Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
"But it's all right now, I learned my lesson well.
You see, ya can't please everyone, so ya got to please yourself" - Garden Party by Ricky Nelson
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Rebecca and The Bloody Codes
- Thread starter Praefectus Praetorio
- Start date
You see, ya can't please everyone, so ya got to please yourself" - Garden Party by Ricky Nelson
twonines
LIMERICUS
Nothing beats a bit of faux Kipling in the morning.
twonines
LIMERICUS
If you please yourself, you know you have at least one satisfied customer, go for it.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Chapter 17 Rebecca’s Cell
Rebecca was taken by the woman down several corridors and shown into a room. Sparsely furnished with a bed and a small wooden chair, washbasin, and chamber pot, nevertheless, it was larger and nicer than the room at the inn that had cost her 10d (and all her possessions.) Thinking back to the ill-fated start to her journey, Rebecca realized that now she was without a single possession of her own, wearing even a borrowed gown which she now surrendered to Dorcas.
Rebecca's father would read the Bible to the family every night. Rebecca recalled one passage in particular:
"Naked came I out of my mothers wombe, and naked shall I returne thither: the Lord gaue, and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the Name of the Lord."
Mistress Bly proceeded to take out a tape measure and carefully measure and record the girl’s measurements.
“We’ll soon have for you, nice clothes that fit, girl. In the meantime, put this on,” she said, handing over a brown linen shift that only came to her knees. “Why don’t you lie down and rest a while before you meet the owners.” Rebecca wanted to ask who “the owners” were, but Bly was already leaving and closed (and locked) the door behind her.
Rebecca explored what little there was in her new home, but soon the sleeplessness of last night and stress of the day caught up with her and she lay down to rest, pulling the wool blanket over her. In just a few minutes, she was sound asleep.
When the Keeper opened the door two hours later, Rebecca hardly stirred. Shaking her roughly, he spoke loudly,
“Up! Up wench. The owners are here and expect to see you.”
Rebecca, still bleary, said, “Have I nothing better to wear?”
“We’ll have stuff later. But, for now, that is fine. In fact, the owners prefer it.”
He drew her arms behind her back and attached cuffs (much lighter than the heavy irons) to her wrists. Propelling her out the door and down the passageway, he shepherded the barefoot girl clad in only the short shift.
While the hallways were initially prison drab, they soon brightened with wallpaper and even windows.
They came to a handsome doorway and Breaker knocked. “Come in,” came a voice from behind the door.
Rebecca was taken by the woman down several corridors and shown into a room. Sparsely furnished with a bed and a small wooden chair, washbasin, and chamber pot, nevertheless, it was larger and nicer than the room at the inn that had cost her 10d (and all her possessions.) Thinking back to the ill-fated start to her journey, Rebecca realized that now she was without a single possession of her own, wearing even a borrowed gown which she now surrendered to Dorcas.
Rebecca's father would read the Bible to the family every night. Rebecca recalled one passage in particular:
"Naked came I out of my mothers wombe, and naked shall I returne thither: the Lord gaue, and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the Name of the Lord."
Mistress Bly proceeded to take out a tape measure and carefully measure and record the girl’s measurements.
“We’ll soon have for you, nice clothes that fit, girl. In the meantime, put this on,” she said, handing over a brown linen shift that only came to her knees. “Why don’t you lie down and rest a while before you meet the owners.” Rebecca wanted to ask who “the owners” were, but Bly was already leaving and closed (and locked) the door behind her.
Rebecca explored what little there was in her new home, but soon the sleeplessness of last night and stress of the day caught up with her and she lay down to rest, pulling the wool blanket over her. In just a few minutes, she was sound asleep.
When the Keeper opened the door two hours later, Rebecca hardly stirred. Shaking her roughly, he spoke loudly,
“Up! Up wench. The owners are here and expect to see you.”
Rebecca, still bleary, said, “Have I nothing better to wear?”
“We’ll have stuff later. But, for now, that is fine. In fact, the owners prefer it.”
He drew her arms behind her back and attached cuffs (much lighter than the heavy irons) to her wrists. Propelling her out the door and down the passageway, he shepherded the barefoot girl clad in only the short shift.
While the hallways were initially prison drab, they soon brightened with wallpaper and even windows.
They came to a handsome doorway and Breaker knocked. “Come in,” came a voice from behind the door.
twonines
LIMERICUS
I can`t decide whether I am spending too much time on here or whether I should be in the garage building the Ark.
Surname of Wragg, Migoz,, Twonines, or Oldslave, by any chance?
Sorry. Just a random thought
twonines
LIMERICUS
Not impossible, just be thankful that it is poor Rebecca in that prison and that PrPr seems to have given you a reprieve, heaven knows why, perhaps he is softening towards you. On the other hand, it sounds as though his plans for your future in Singapore may provide you with considerable discomfort and us with some innocent enjoyment.Surname of Wragg, Migoz,, Twonines, or Oldslave, by any chance?
Sorry. Just a random thought
old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
I'm afeared we'm not haristocratic enough for this 'ear story like.
twonines
LIMERICUS
You are right. I come from a long line of peasants, but there is no harm in dreaming.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
twonines
LIMERICUS
Fortunately, despite my advanced years, I still have a forelock to tug. As for my place, they have yet to dig it. The old ones are the best!Just tug your forelocks, say "Yes Squire," and remember your place.
twonines
LIMERICUS
As you have indicated that you will return to Singapore,can I add a verse of my own?
Take us back to Singapore where the locals caned Ms. Moore,
On that steel frame,bare and bending,to her pain is there no ending?
Fresh strokes slice in from one twenty four.
But wait, with buns still bruised and smarting,from this life she`s soon departing,
As you terminate her stay in Singapore.
As from that rope she dangles,you`ll have tied up all the angles
And that`s the end of Moore in Singapore.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Chapter 18 Meet the Owners
Allen lifted the latch and pulled open the large door. He ushered Rebecca into a grand drawing room, richly decorated. Two walls were covered with high windows and the third with a massive mirror. The whole was lit with numerous chandeliers. Rebecca gazed in awe at the sight. The chandeliers had forests of cut glass, glittering in the candlelight. The walls were cream with gold trim and filigree everywhere. An elegant woven carpet covered the floor under the rich furniture. She had never imagined such lavish decoration anywhere.
In the center of the room were two elegantly-dressed gentlemen, sipping drinks. One of them waived the visitors forward. “Come along, Keeper. Let’s see your new charge!”
The man who spoke was just below medium height, early thirties, portly, with a flushed complexion and a fine powdered wig. Rebecca noticed that he had a rich shoe on one foot, and a bandage on the other. His mouth was hard with a cruel look in his eyes.
Rebecca was immediately drawn to the other man. Tall, lean, and straight, he looked about forty. His eyes were dark grey and his complexion showed much time in the sun. He had an open, honest face and a regal bearing.
Rebecca came to the men and curtsied awkwardly, due both to inexperience and to her arms cuffed behind her.
“Yes, she is a beauty,” said the first man. “Don’t you agree, George?” he asked the second.
“Most certainly yes, Elliott. She has the look of an innocent angel,” George replied, with an accent. Rebecca had far too little experience to identify a French accent.
“That will be all for now, Mr. Breaker.” Said Elliott. “Wait outside the door for our call.”
“Of course, Sir Elliott, Your Royal Highness,” said the keeper, bowing deeply before withdrawing.
“Girl, has Keeper Breaker explained to you the importance of obeying?” asked the portly one.
“Yes, Sir. He has. I vill do anything! I’ll vork hard to keep from hanging.”
“If you please us, we may be able to save you, Rebecca,” said the taller one in a soft voice. “The judge is a special friend of ours.” Though accented, his English was more refined than Grabbe’s.
“I want to please, Sir…Royal, Yours... Please, I don’t know what to call you, Sir.”
“You can call me Sir, for now,” George said, reaching out and stroking her beautiful, but unkempt hair, admiring the red highlights in the flickering candlelight. “Why don’t we three go over to the sofa and get better acquainted?
Allen lifted the latch and pulled open the large door. He ushered Rebecca into a grand drawing room, richly decorated. Two walls were covered with high windows and the third with a massive mirror. The whole was lit with numerous chandeliers. Rebecca gazed in awe at the sight. The chandeliers had forests of cut glass, glittering in the candlelight. The walls were cream with gold trim and filigree everywhere. An elegant woven carpet covered the floor under the rich furniture. She had never imagined such lavish decoration anywhere.
In the center of the room were two elegantly-dressed gentlemen, sipping drinks. One of them waived the visitors forward. “Come along, Keeper. Let’s see your new charge!”
The man who spoke was just below medium height, early thirties, portly, with a flushed complexion and a fine powdered wig. Rebecca noticed that he had a rich shoe on one foot, and a bandage on the other. His mouth was hard with a cruel look in his eyes.
Rebecca was immediately drawn to the other man. Tall, lean, and straight, he looked about forty. His eyes were dark grey and his complexion showed much time in the sun. He had an open, honest face and a regal bearing.
Rebecca came to the men and curtsied awkwardly, due both to inexperience and to her arms cuffed behind her.
“Yes, she is a beauty,” said the first man. “Don’t you agree, George?” he asked the second.
“Most certainly yes, Elliott. She has the look of an innocent angel,” George replied, with an accent. Rebecca had far too little experience to identify a French accent.
“That will be all for now, Mr. Breaker.” Said Elliott. “Wait outside the door for our call.”
“Of course, Sir Elliott, Your Royal Highness,” said the keeper, bowing deeply before withdrawing.
“Girl, has Keeper Breaker explained to you the importance of obeying?” asked the portly one.
“Yes, Sir. He has. I vill do anything! I’ll vork hard to keep from hanging.”
“If you please us, we may be able to save you, Rebecca,” said the taller one in a soft voice. “The judge is a special friend of ours.” Though accented, his English was more refined than Grabbe’s.
“I want to please, Sir…Royal, Yours... Please, I don’t know what to call you, Sir.”
“You can call me Sir, for now,” George said, reaching out and stroking her beautiful, but unkempt hair, admiring the red highlights in the flickering candlelight. “Why don’t we three go over to the sofa and get better acquainted?
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Drawing room at? Ramsey Prison House.
twonines
LIMERICUS
She would have been better advised to have warned you to avoid Singapore and not to chew gum!My mother always said, “beware of sofas!”
twonines
LIMERICUS
Very luxurious, but it looks more likely to have been attached to the Bastille or Salpetriere given the style of the furniture but you never know.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Chapter 19 Inspection of the Prime Article
The men took Rebecca’s arms and lead her to an upholstered sofa under the massive mirror. They sat her between them and both stared at her lovely face.
“May I have my cuffs off, please, Sirs?”
“No. We first need to see how obedient you are, Rebecca,” said Elliott. “We will do all the needed hand work needed here.”
“You are very lovely, my dear,” said George, taking her chin gently in his hand and turning her to face him. He placed a gentle but warm kiss on her pink lips.
“Yes indeed. Your lips are quite kissable,” said Elliott, turning her face to his and planting a more passionate kiss on her lips, partially inserting his tongue between them.
Soon the men were pulling Rebecca back and forth, dipping their tongues deeply in her mouth. This was very confusing and, also, a little arousing for the innocent girl who had never done more than chaste kisses on the cheek with her parents and siblings and never with any but family.
A slight flush rose on her face, highlighting her pretty coloring and cute freckles. Even as the kisses continued, their hands roved softly to the girl’s body. Hands moved down and up her pinioned arms and fingers teased her nipples through the shift. A hand hands came to rest on her bare knee, exposed by the shortness of the shift. Rebecca’s breath came quicker as she felt her body being explored by strange men. She knew this was terribly wrong, but she was even more terrified of offending the men who had total control over her fate, including her life!
Like most country girls, Rebecca had a good idea of the mechanics of copulation. But such things were never discussed in a poor but respectable family like hers. The only comments ever made were on the absolute prohibition on any physical contact with a man before marriage and the life ruining consequences of becoming pregnant out of wedlock. Such topics as how sex feels or of a man’s or a woman’s feeling or desires were not even considered.
As the hands began to move to her inner thighs and insistently move up her legs, Rebecca allowed them to open those legs, making the ultimate target accessible. Before she was really prepared, the fingers were rubbing her thighs just by her furred cunt. With this stimulation and the now teasingly light pinches on her nipples and constant exploring of her mouth with their tongues, the two were giving the teen feelings she had never dreamed existed.
“Time to see our whole package, wouldn’t you say, George?” sand Sir Elliott.
“Certainement!” agreed the other, slipping into the language that had been his first childhood tongue. “Let us unwrap our young package.”
Each man grabbed the hem of her shift and, pulling her up enough to clear her ass, they drew it up and over her head and back down on her arms behind her, exposing her naked body to their lustful gaze.
The men took Rebecca’s arms and lead her to an upholstered sofa under the massive mirror. They sat her between them and both stared at her lovely face.
“May I have my cuffs off, please, Sirs?”
“No. We first need to see how obedient you are, Rebecca,” said Elliott. “We will do all the needed hand work needed here.”
“You are very lovely, my dear,” said George, taking her chin gently in his hand and turning her to face him. He placed a gentle but warm kiss on her pink lips.
“Yes indeed. Your lips are quite kissable,” said Elliott, turning her face to his and planting a more passionate kiss on her lips, partially inserting his tongue between them.
Soon the men were pulling Rebecca back and forth, dipping their tongues deeply in her mouth. This was very confusing and, also, a little arousing for the innocent girl who had never done more than chaste kisses on the cheek with her parents and siblings and never with any but family.
A slight flush rose on her face, highlighting her pretty coloring and cute freckles. Even as the kisses continued, their hands roved softly to the girl’s body. Hands moved down and up her pinioned arms and fingers teased her nipples through the shift. A hand hands came to rest on her bare knee, exposed by the shortness of the shift. Rebecca’s breath came quicker as she felt her body being explored by strange men. She knew this was terribly wrong, but she was even more terrified of offending the men who had total control over her fate, including her life!
Like most country girls, Rebecca had a good idea of the mechanics of copulation. But such things were never discussed in a poor but respectable family like hers. The only comments ever made were on the absolute prohibition on any physical contact with a man before marriage and the life ruining consequences of becoming pregnant out of wedlock. Such topics as how sex feels or of a man’s or a woman’s feeling or desires were not even considered.
As the hands began to move to her inner thighs and insistently move up her legs, Rebecca allowed them to open those legs, making the ultimate target accessible. Before she was really prepared, the fingers were rubbing her thighs just by her furred cunt. With this stimulation and the now teasingly light pinches on her nipples and constant exploring of her mouth with their tongues, the two were giving the teen feelings she had never dreamed existed.
“Time to see our whole package, wouldn’t you say, George?” sand Sir Elliott.
“Certainement!” agreed the other, slipping into the language that had been his first childhood tongue. “Let us unwrap our young package.”
Each man grabbed the hem of her shift and, pulling her up enough to clear her ass, they drew it up and over her head and back down on her arms behind her, exposing her naked body to their lustful gaze.