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Against All Odds: A Gilded Age Romance
- Thread starter Barbaria1
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- humour punishment romance sex
No, I think Windar means that Goldmann's heart skipped a beat because he's affected by the pretty girl, not out of fear that you'll be losing another few expensive bottles and likely have some vintage crystal broken. Honestly, I don't know why you keep sending her on errands to the wine cellar. It's not doing anything for your health.She has that effect on me, too!
Every time she has an errand to the wine cellar.
twonines
LIMERICUS
No, but it gives him an excuse to punish her!No, I think Windar means that Goldmann's heart skipped a beat because he's affected by the pretty girl, not out of fear that you'll be losing another few expensive bottles and likely have some vintage crystal broken. Honestly, I don't know why you keep sending her on errands to the wine cellar. It's not doing anything for your health.
Damn. Twonines has sussed me out!
Chapter 7.
Barbara listened distractedly to her father’s dinner conversation. They were dining in the Plaza Hotel’s elegantly appointed three-story-tall dining room, as had become their ritual practice on evenings when they were not out on the town. They always sat at the same table. That was something Barbara insisted on, although she never divulged to her father exactly why. It was so that she could position herself to look past her father and into the hotel lobby, so as to keep a close eye on M. Pellegrino at the front desk.
Half listening to her father’s table talk was also something she had perfected as an art. It really wasn’t difficult at all because his conversation could be counted on to revolve around the same three topics. First, there were his business dealings. Appreciative nods and an occasional raising of one’s eyebrows was enough to suffice there. Second, there was his constant, but so far, fruitless search for a place for them to reside that was sufficiently ostentatious and located in close proximity to just the “right people”. A doleful shaking of the head and an occasional statement assuring him that “something good will surely come up” served well enough there. And thirdly, there was the latest on his arrangements to find her the perfect beau, which required simply that she offer in response an “Oh really, father!” … to let him know that she was less than enthused about the new prospect, whoever he might be. To be perfectly frank, that was a foregone conclusion. She invariably despised each and every one of them.
This evening she was keeping a very close eye on Mario, closer than she otherwise would, hoping that he might show her some sign that he had news for her about the true identity of that mysterious and desirable Mr Goldman. She had been watching Mario hoping for a raised eyebrow, a wink, an inclination of the head … anything that would signal her to make up an excuse for tarrying behind when dinner was over and her father went up to their suite.
But nothing.
That was simply too much for her characteristically low level of patience. Barbara had, by nature, always been overly eager and impulsive. Frowning, she resolved that she would speak to Mario immediately after dinner … sign or no sign.
So when dinner was over, she told her father that she’d be up as soon as she found something good to read in the small ground floor library the hotel maintained for its guests. And as soon as the elevator doors closed behind him and the overhead dial indicated that the cage was ascending, she marched straight over to the front desk and planted herself directly in front of Mario.
“Well, hello,” he said, looking up.
“Well, what have you learned?”
“About what?” he teased.
“You know perfectly well! What have you learned about Goldman?”
“Nothing yet. These things take time. My sources haven’t gotten back to me yet.”
“Well, do something to hurry them along!”
“Dear Barbara. The real world doesn’t necessarily work that way. Have patience.”
“I need to know!”
“In good time. But, by the way, you might be interested to know that someone did drop by earlier today asking about you and your father.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t say.”
“What did he look like?”
“How badly do you want to know?”
“Mario!!!”
Turning to a subordinate, Mario said, “Cover for me, I’m going to take a little break.”
“Yessir, Mr Pellegrino.”
Circling around the desk, Mario took Barbara gently by the elbow and led her to a door marked “private”.
“In here,” he hissed, a conspiratorial look on his face.
“Okay. This had better be good.”
Having ushered her inside, he turned to softly close the door and turn the lock.
“I don’t know what you have in mind, Mario, but we agreed to just be friends. Remember?”
“Yes, but this is business. Different rules apply. You have to pay to get what you want.”
“Oh, and I suppose the man who was inquiring about me had to pay too?”
“That’s business. Cost him $10, if you really want to know.”
“Mario! You know perfectly well that father handles all our money. I haven’t a cent on me.”
“We’ll, that makes you a beggar then, I suppose. If you really want answers you’ll get down on your knees in front of me and strip to your waist,” he said unbuttoning his pants. “And don’t worry. Your virginity will remain intact, and father will never know.”
“You Bastard! Father’s expecting me upstairs shortly. So there isn’t much time and I’ve never done this before. It’s repulsive!” she said eyeing his exposed cock which was rapidly stiffening and springing erect as he watched her open and remove her blouse, and lower the straps of her chemise from her shoulders, allowing the undergarment to fall to her waist. Fussing to undo the stubborn fastenings on the front of her corset, she eventually succeeded, removing it and tossing it aside.
“Satisfied?” she said, arching her back provocatively, cupping her breasts in her hands and wobbling them about gently for good measure.
He looked long and hard at the twin globes of silky, creamy, undulating flesh, each sporting a saucy, obviously aroused, tumescent nipple, and breathed heavily, “Oh yessss!”
“Okay, you’re happy. Now what?”
“You suck me.”
“That’s disgusting!”
“You already said that, you’ll’ do it anyway, won’t you, Barbara!”
“As if I have a choice.”
“Honestly Barbara, at this moment I am regretting our agreement to be just friends.”
“I didn’t know this was part of being friends,” she said drily, as she gingerly took his erection in one hand and guided it hesitantly toward her mouth.
“Nor did I, till now,” he allowed, reaching for a breast to fondle with one hand while placing the other on the back of her head, the better to draw her closer and press himself in as deeply as possible. “Now suck! Suck hard!”
“mmmphhhh! she replied.
A very short time later, as she was wiping, with the handkerchief he had handed her, the large gob of cum clinging precariously to the point of her chin, and dabbing at the gooey splatters all over her shoulders and chest, she muttered crossly, “Okay, I’ve paid … in fact, I suspect I overpaid … now tell me!”
“Okay. Okay. A deal is a deal. About the guy who inquired after you. I honestly don’t know his name. He didn’t say. But he was very interested … insistent in fact … that I reveal your identity. I, of course, insisted that doing so would be a violation of hotel policy.”
“But you did it anyway … for money, didn’t you?”
“As your father likely would have done as well. What is that saying … oh yes … money talks … and so does sex. You just paid for information yourself, if I’m not mistaken. So let’s not be critical.”
“Point taken … no pun intended,” she agreed ruefully. “Help me with my corset, will you?”
“My pleasure. So, here’s the rest of it. I would describe him as young … older than you, but young. Well dressed and groomed, but not of the set your father would approve of … in more ways than one. Handsome … no denying that. A bit taller than you. Clean cut. Curly hair. Pomaded. Winning smile. Quite self assured. Knows exactly what he wants and how to get it. Certainly knew how to pry information out of me.”
“My God, Mario. That’s him! That’s Goldman! It’s a perfect description of him. He’s the one I saw at Delmonico’s!”
“Appears so.”
“That means he’s interested in me! Interested enough to seek me out. I must know more. Work your sources, Mario. I need more information.”
“Of course, but you’ll have to pay again, Barbara. Nothing is free.”
“Alright, but not this again. It truly was disgusting!”
“Then what?”
“Ummm … Wait. I’ve got it! How would you like to come up to the suite tomorrow morning after father is gone for the day and watch the Swedish maid, Kristina, and me, pleasure ourselves together?”
“Hmmmm … sounds interesting. I’m sure that can be arranged. I’ll have someone cover for me. It’s a deal.”
“Good, now I’d better get myself up to the suite before father thinks something is amiss.”
**********
“Hello father, sorry it took so long, but it was hard to find something suitable to read.”
“But you did?”
“Yes, father. A new novel by the English novelist, Marie Corelli. It’s called ‘The Soul of Lilith’.”
“Splendid. Are you sure she’s English? Sounds Italian. Which reminds me. You are steering clear of that Italian desk clerk, right?”
“Yes, father. Quite clear.”
Oh, and, Barbara, I meant to tell you over dinner but it slipped my mind. I want you to accompany me to the stock exchange tomorrow. It’s quite a fascinating place and tomorrow is a special day there as they are introducing some very exciting changes. There’s lots to see and people there I’d like you to meet.”
“That’s fine, father. I’d be happy to go.”
With that she withdrew to her room, happy he hadn’t noticed that the front of her blouse wasn’t fastened properly. She had just noticed herself. And even happier to know that the stock exchange excursion was planned for the afternoon, leaving plenty of time for she and Kristina to put on a show for Mario.
And a special show it would be too, for Kristina had a surprise in store … a handmade Swedish carved wooden dildo. Kristina had shown it to her earlier that day, but they had decided not to use it then, saving it for the morrow. It was beautiful … suitably large and shaped, with little ribs near its base. It otherwise had a glossy smooth lacquered finish and was adorned with delightfully colorful hand-painted decorative motifs. A thing of real beauty.
Barbara listened distractedly to her father’s dinner conversation. They were dining in the Plaza Hotel’s elegantly appointed three-story-tall dining room, as had become their ritual practice on evenings when they were not out on the town. They always sat at the same table. That was something Barbara insisted on, although she never divulged to her father exactly why. It was so that she could position herself to look past her father and into the hotel lobby, so as to keep a close eye on M. Pellegrino at the front desk.
Half listening to her father’s table talk was also something she had perfected as an art. It really wasn’t difficult at all because his conversation could be counted on to revolve around the same three topics. First, there were his business dealings. Appreciative nods and an occasional raising of one’s eyebrows was enough to suffice there. Second, there was his constant, but so far, fruitless search for a place for them to reside that was sufficiently ostentatious and located in close proximity to just the “right people”. A doleful shaking of the head and an occasional statement assuring him that “something good will surely come up” served well enough there. And thirdly, there was the latest on his arrangements to find her the perfect beau, which required simply that she offer in response an “Oh really, father!” … to let him know that she was less than enthused about the new prospect, whoever he might be. To be perfectly frank, that was a foregone conclusion. She invariably despised each and every one of them.
This evening she was keeping a very close eye on Mario, closer than she otherwise would, hoping that he might show her some sign that he had news for her about the true identity of that mysterious and desirable Mr Goldman. She had been watching Mario hoping for a raised eyebrow, a wink, an inclination of the head … anything that would signal her to make up an excuse for tarrying behind when dinner was over and her father went up to their suite.
But nothing.
That was simply too much for her characteristically low level of patience. Barbara had, by nature, always been overly eager and impulsive. Frowning, she resolved that she would speak to Mario immediately after dinner … sign or no sign.
So when dinner was over, she told her father that she’d be up as soon as she found something good to read in the small ground floor library the hotel maintained for its guests. And as soon as the elevator doors closed behind him and the overhead dial indicated that the cage was ascending, she marched straight over to the front desk and planted herself directly in front of Mario.
“Well, hello,” he said, looking up.
“Well, what have you learned?”
“About what?” he teased.
“You know perfectly well! What have you learned about Goldman?”
“Nothing yet. These things take time. My sources haven’t gotten back to me yet.”
“Well, do something to hurry them along!”
“Dear Barbara. The real world doesn’t necessarily work that way. Have patience.”
“I need to know!”
“In good time. But, by the way, you might be interested to know that someone did drop by earlier today asking about you and your father.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t say.”
“What did he look like?”
“How badly do you want to know?”
“Mario!!!”
Turning to a subordinate, Mario said, “Cover for me, I’m going to take a little break.”
“Yessir, Mr Pellegrino.”
Circling around the desk, Mario took Barbara gently by the elbow and led her to a door marked “private”.
“In here,” he hissed, a conspiratorial look on his face.
“Okay. This had better be good.”
Having ushered her inside, he turned to softly close the door and turn the lock.
“I don’t know what you have in mind, Mario, but we agreed to just be friends. Remember?”
“Yes, but this is business. Different rules apply. You have to pay to get what you want.”
“Oh, and I suppose the man who was inquiring about me had to pay too?”
“That’s business. Cost him $10, if you really want to know.”
“Mario! You know perfectly well that father handles all our money. I haven’t a cent on me.”
“We’ll, that makes you a beggar then, I suppose. If you really want answers you’ll get down on your knees in front of me and strip to your waist,” he said unbuttoning his pants. “And don’t worry. Your virginity will remain intact, and father will never know.”
“You Bastard! Father’s expecting me upstairs shortly. So there isn’t much time and I’ve never done this before. It’s repulsive!” she said eyeing his exposed cock which was rapidly stiffening and springing erect as he watched her open and remove her blouse, and lower the straps of her chemise from her shoulders, allowing the undergarment to fall to her waist. Fussing to undo the stubborn fastenings on the front of her corset, she eventually succeeded, removing it and tossing it aside.
“Satisfied?” she said, arching her back provocatively, cupping her breasts in her hands and wobbling them about gently for good measure.
He looked long and hard at the twin globes of silky, creamy, undulating flesh, each sporting a saucy, obviously aroused, tumescent nipple, and breathed heavily, “Oh yessss!”
“Okay, you’re happy. Now what?”
“You suck me.”
“That’s disgusting!”
“You already said that, you’ll’ do it anyway, won’t you, Barbara!”
“As if I have a choice.”
“Honestly Barbara, at this moment I am regretting our agreement to be just friends.”
“I didn’t know this was part of being friends,” she said drily, as she gingerly took his erection in one hand and guided it hesitantly toward her mouth.
“Nor did I, till now,” he allowed, reaching for a breast to fondle with one hand while placing the other on the back of her head, the better to draw her closer and press himself in as deeply as possible. “Now suck! Suck hard!”
“mmmphhhh! she replied.
A very short time later, as she was wiping, with the handkerchief he had handed her, the large gob of cum clinging precariously to the point of her chin, and dabbing at the gooey splatters all over her shoulders and chest, she muttered crossly, “Okay, I’ve paid … in fact, I suspect I overpaid … now tell me!”
“Okay. Okay. A deal is a deal. About the guy who inquired after you. I honestly don’t know his name. He didn’t say. But he was very interested … insistent in fact … that I reveal your identity. I, of course, insisted that doing so would be a violation of hotel policy.”
“But you did it anyway … for money, didn’t you?”
“As your father likely would have done as well. What is that saying … oh yes … money talks … and so does sex. You just paid for information yourself, if I’m not mistaken. So let’s not be critical.”
“Point taken … no pun intended,” she agreed ruefully. “Help me with my corset, will you?”
“My pleasure. So, here’s the rest of it. I would describe him as young … older than you, but young. Well dressed and groomed, but not of the set your father would approve of … in more ways than one. Handsome … no denying that. A bit taller than you. Clean cut. Curly hair. Pomaded. Winning smile. Quite self assured. Knows exactly what he wants and how to get it. Certainly knew how to pry information out of me.”
“My God, Mario. That’s him! That’s Goldman! It’s a perfect description of him. He’s the one I saw at Delmonico’s!”
“Appears so.”
“That means he’s interested in me! Interested enough to seek me out. I must know more. Work your sources, Mario. I need more information.”
“Of course, but you’ll have to pay again, Barbara. Nothing is free.”
“Alright, but not this again. It truly was disgusting!”
“Then what?”
“Ummm … Wait. I’ve got it! How would you like to come up to the suite tomorrow morning after father is gone for the day and watch the Swedish maid, Kristina, and me, pleasure ourselves together?”
“Hmmmm … sounds interesting. I’m sure that can be arranged. I’ll have someone cover for me. It’s a deal.”
“Good, now I’d better get myself up to the suite before father thinks something is amiss.”
**********
“Hello father, sorry it took so long, but it was hard to find something suitable to read.”
“But you did?”
“Yes, father. A new novel by the English novelist, Marie Corelli. It’s called ‘The Soul of Lilith’.”
“Splendid. Are you sure she’s English? Sounds Italian. Which reminds me. You are steering clear of that Italian desk clerk, right?”
“Yes, father. Quite clear.”
Oh, and, Barbara, I meant to tell you over dinner but it slipped my mind. I want you to accompany me to the stock exchange tomorrow. It’s quite a fascinating place and tomorrow is a special day there as they are introducing some very exciting changes. There’s lots to see and people there I’d like you to meet.”
“That’s fine, father. I’d be happy to go.”
With that she withdrew to her room, happy he hadn’t noticed that the front of her blouse wasn’t fastened properly. She had just noticed herself. And even happier to know that the stock exchange excursion was planned for the afternoon, leaving plenty of time for she and Kristina to put on a show for Mario.
And a special show it would be too, for Kristina had a surprise in store … a handmade Swedish carved wooden dildo. Kristina had shown it to her earlier that day, but they had decided not to use it then, saving it for the morrow. It was beautiful … suitably large and shaped, with little ribs near its base. It otherwise had a glossy smooth lacquered finish and was adorned with delightfully colorful hand-painted decorative motifs. A thing of real beauty.
Some notes on Chapter 7.
The corset Barbara struggled to loosen and remove while Mario looked on in breathless anticipation was of the kind that fashionable women began wearing in the early 1890s, as the exaggerated bustled-shape of the 1880s, with its emphasis on exaggerating the hips along with a shelf-like extension from the center-back of the body, went out of style.
The new corsets were shorter, extending from the top of the hips to the lower portions of the bust. They were generally fastened down the front and were heavily boned on each side to place emphasis on a narrowed waist, thereby affecting an hourglass figure. As the decade progressed corsets continued to change, putting ever greater emphasis on protruding a woman’s chest to the front and hips to the back, creating a kind of S silhouette. The corset at once froze the female form and exaggerated its femaleness in a way that many found attractive.
The change was accompanied by a new outer clothing style that made the body appear leaner and less rigidly rounded by employing an angular and more maneuverable triangle or A-line shaped skirt paired with blouses exhibiting the puffed, or gigot, sleeves.
Women’s magazines like Harper’s Bazaar, Ladies' Home Journal and Vogue, which had become commonplace across the country by the 1890s, were instrumental in promoting the new look, extolling it as an ideal of femininity .., less inhibited, freer and independent.
Moralists of the time … whom Barbara would have had precious little time for … saw corsets as a dangerous moral ‘evil’, promoting promiscuous views of female bodies and superficial dalliance into fashion whims. They also made claims that the wearing of corsets could impair fertility and result in mental weakness and general depletion of health. Preachers inveighed against tightlacing, and doctors counseled patients against it. Fashion being the only way many women could express themselves, some men did what they could to discourage it, or at least bend it to their own conservative tastes and moralistic predilections.
******
The novel. “The Soul of Lilith”, which Barbara borrowed from the hotel library to provide cover for her meeting with Mario, was published by the British writer Marie Corelli in 1892 at the height of Corelli's career as one of the most successful writers of her generation, “The Soul of Lilith” combines science fiction, spirituality, and romance to tell a cautionary tale of the limits of knowledge and faith.
Marie Corelli was a pseudonym. Her real name was Mary MacKay. She lived and wrote in Stratford on Avon and was a bit of a recluse despite her popularity, allowing herself to be photographed only once, and insisting that the photo be heavily doctored to make her look younger.
Her work was often derided. Although sales of her novels exceeded the combined sales of popular contemporaries, including Arthur Conan Doyle, H.G. Wells and Rudyard Kipling, critics often characterized her melodramatic style as "the favorite of the common multitude".
For over forty years, Corelli lived alone with her companion, Bertha Vyver, to whom she left everything when she died. While she never identified herself as a lesbian, several biographers and critics have noted the frequent erotic descriptions of females that appear in her novels, although they are expressed by male characters.
The corset Barbara struggled to loosen and remove while Mario looked on in breathless anticipation was of the kind that fashionable women began wearing in the early 1890s, as the exaggerated bustled-shape of the 1880s, with its emphasis on exaggerating the hips along with a shelf-like extension from the center-back of the body, went out of style.
The new corsets were shorter, extending from the top of the hips to the lower portions of the bust. They were generally fastened down the front and were heavily boned on each side to place emphasis on a narrowed waist, thereby affecting an hourglass figure. As the decade progressed corsets continued to change, putting ever greater emphasis on protruding a woman’s chest to the front and hips to the back, creating a kind of S silhouette. The corset at once froze the female form and exaggerated its femaleness in a way that many found attractive.
The change was accompanied by a new outer clothing style that made the body appear leaner and less rigidly rounded by employing an angular and more maneuverable triangle or A-line shaped skirt paired with blouses exhibiting the puffed, or gigot, sleeves.
Women’s magazines like Harper’s Bazaar, Ladies' Home Journal and Vogue, which had become commonplace across the country by the 1890s, were instrumental in promoting the new look, extolling it as an ideal of femininity .., less inhibited, freer and independent.
Moralists of the time … whom Barbara would have had precious little time for … saw corsets as a dangerous moral ‘evil’, promoting promiscuous views of female bodies and superficial dalliance into fashion whims. They also made claims that the wearing of corsets could impair fertility and result in mental weakness and general depletion of health. Preachers inveighed against tightlacing, and doctors counseled patients against it. Fashion being the only way many women could express themselves, some men did what they could to discourage it, or at least bend it to their own conservative tastes and moralistic predilections.
******
The novel. “The Soul of Lilith”, which Barbara borrowed from the hotel library to provide cover for her meeting with Mario, was published by the British writer Marie Corelli in 1892 at the height of Corelli's career as one of the most successful writers of her generation, “The Soul of Lilith” combines science fiction, spirituality, and romance to tell a cautionary tale of the limits of knowledge and faith.
Marie Corelli was a pseudonym. Her real name was Mary MacKay. She lived and wrote in Stratford on Avon and was a bit of a recluse despite her popularity, allowing herself to be photographed only once, and insisting that the photo be heavily doctored to make her look younger.
Her work was often derided. Although sales of her novels exceeded the combined sales of popular contemporaries, including Arthur Conan Doyle, H.G. Wells and Rudyard Kipling, critics often characterized her melodramatic style as "the favorite of the common multitude".
For over forty years, Corelli lived alone with her companion, Bertha Vyver, to whom she left everything when she died. While she never identified herself as a lesbian, several biographers and critics have noted the frequent erotic descriptions of females that appear in her novels, although they are expressed by male characters.
“I didn’t know this was part of being friends,” she said drily, as she gingerly took his erection in one hand and guided it hesitantly toward her mouth.
“Nor did I, till now,” he allowed, reaching for a breast to fondle with one hand while placing the other on the back of her head, the better to draw her closer and press himself in as deeply as possible. “Now suck! Suck hard!”
“Nor did I, till now,” he allowed, reaching for a breast to fondle with one hand while placing the other on the back of her head, the better to draw her closer and press himself in as deeply as possible. “Now suck! Suck hard!”
Blue
Magistrate
Classic! Love how the phrases are all different lengths. Hooker was a master story teller
So when dinner was over, she told her father that she’d be up as soon as she found something good to read in the small ground floor library the hotel maintained for its guests. And as soon as the elevator doors closed behind him and the overhead dial indicated that the cage was ascending, she marched straight over to the front desk and planted herself directly in front of Mario.
“Well, hello,” he said, looking up.
“Well, hello,” he said, looking up.
windar
Teller of Tales
Really? I would never have known...
Barb can be VERY friendly...
Now, that's the kind of thing friends do to help each other!
Damn that Comstock!!!
Migoz2
Senator
I've warned her about that before....
Not that it ever did any good.
Did you swallow, then?
It doesn't matter - as long as he swallows that!
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
So, here we have 'fine paint' in stead of 'fine print'.
Doragon
Tribune
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Just complaining! I even did not notice! We are used to it!
Just say, "oh, really Barb?" on occasion, and she'll think you're listening.Just complaining! I even did not notice! We are used to it!
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
It's all in chapter 7 :Just say, "oh, really Barb?" on occasion, and she'll think you're listening.
So, "something good will surely come" , could suit as reply to "That's disgusting!"
