Migoz2
Senator
How PrPr manages to keep writing when it is dark outsideMy girls fight over who get to be the ashtray!
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Rebecca and The Bloody Codes
- Thread starter Praefectus Praetorio
- Start date
connoisseurs
Senator
Will be no problem. As I know from myself - the older you get, the more you puff.He's got to blow them all out in one puff!
The Beast
Governor
I'm glad to hear that because I thought the sentence would be reversed. Although you don't have to kill her. The earlier elements of the sentence will suffice.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Chapter 23 Elliott Escorts Cinderella to the Ball
The key in the door lock turned and the door opened to reveal Breaker and Sir Elliott.
“Well, Rebecca,” said Grabbe. “Are you ready for your first Ridotto!”
Rebecca gasped at the knight’s appearance. He wore a small black mask, but Rebecca recognized his voice and face at once. While she had thought him richly dressed before, he was now a shining vision of fashion. His coat and breeches were of a bright silk brocade in pink with silver threads. His waistcoat was cream with embroidery in colours contrasting with the suit. He wore a full-dress wig, with its mass of curls, rising high on the forehead each side of a center parting and falling over and well below the shoulders. Rings with brightly coloured stones decorated his fingers.
Standing quickly, Rebecca made a cute curtsy while stammering, “Y..yes, S..ir. You look wonderful!”
Rebecca was not the only one stunned by appearances. Both Sir Elliott and Breaker were mesmerized by the vision before them. The lovely colour palette of Rebecca’s lustrous red hair, her cream complexion and the rich green of her clothes was enchanting to the eye. The generous display of skin provided by the costume enchanted other male members.
“Thank you, girl, but I am far from the best. Wait until you see the real peacocks at the Ridotto. It is time for you to make an appearance. I must say you look good enough to devour. Just one more thing needed.” He took a collar of green dyed leather, encrusted with several jewels out of his pocket and gave it to Allen. The Keeper fastened it snugly around Rebecca’s delicate neck and attached the green leather leash that Grabbe handed him.
Elliott bowed and indicated they leave the cell.
“Is it far to the Ball…I’m meaning the Ridotto?” she asked.
“Not at all!” It’s in this very building, just over on the side occupied by the Club.”
Grabbe lead the way holding the leash, followed by Rebecca, and then Allen taking up the rear. After going through a doorway of heavy iron bars, they continued down ever wider and taller corridors until Grabbe stopped before a tall double-doorway beyond which music could be heard. After listening a moment, he said, “A minuet from that Water Music Suite. The writer, Handel, is a favorite of George and his father. Well, Keeper, let’s prepare Rebecca for her grand entrance.”
Allen produced a small mask of green damask fabric with an intricate floral pattern woven in using scarlet thread, which he tied on her face. Then he produced a set of thin cuffs and quickly drew her hands back and attached her wrists behind her back. He then took a strip of green wool and bound it on her arms just above the elbows, forcing her arms and shoulders back and her chest out.
“What? Why?” the girl protested.
“Just to ensure you maintain the proper posture, Rebecca,” explained Elliott in a syrupy voice, taking the leash from the keeper. Looking at how her breasts were thrust out and the mini-jacket separated and her bare middle was uncovered by the now loose cape, he nodded, “Yes, very proper.”
He turned and flung the doors open and strode in with the girl in tow, literally.
The key in the door lock turned and the door opened to reveal Breaker and Sir Elliott.
“Well, Rebecca,” said Grabbe. “Are you ready for your first Ridotto!”
Rebecca gasped at the knight’s appearance. He wore a small black mask, but Rebecca recognized his voice and face at once. While she had thought him richly dressed before, he was now a shining vision of fashion. His coat and breeches were of a bright silk brocade in pink with silver threads. His waistcoat was cream with embroidery in colours contrasting with the suit. He wore a full-dress wig, with its mass of curls, rising high on the forehead each side of a center parting and falling over and well below the shoulders. Rings with brightly coloured stones decorated his fingers.
Standing quickly, Rebecca made a cute curtsy while stammering, “Y..yes, S..ir. You look wonderful!”
Rebecca was not the only one stunned by appearances. Both Sir Elliott and Breaker were mesmerized by the vision before them. The lovely colour palette of Rebecca’s lustrous red hair, her cream complexion and the rich green of her clothes was enchanting to the eye. The generous display of skin provided by the costume enchanted other male members.
“Thank you, girl, but I am far from the best. Wait until you see the real peacocks at the Ridotto. It is time for you to make an appearance. I must say you look good enough to devour. Just one more thing needed.” He took a collar of green dyed leather, encrusted with several jewels out of his pocket and gave it to Allen. The Keeper fastened it snugly around Rebecca’s delicate neck and attached the green leather leash that Grabbe handed him.
Elliott bowed and indicated they leave the cell.
“Is it far to the Ball…I’m meaning the Ridotto?” she asked.
“Not at all!” It’s in this very building, just over on the side occupied by the Club.”
Grabbe lead the way holding the leash, followed by Rebecca, and then Allen taking up the rear. After going through a doorway of heavy iron bars, they continued down ever wider and taller corridors until Grabbe stopped before a tall double-doorway beyond which music could be heard. After listening a moment, he said, “A minuet from that Water Music Suite. The writer, Handel, is a favorite of George and his father. Well, Keeper, let’s prepare Rebecca for her grand entrance.”
Allen produced a small mask of green damask fabric with an intricate floral pattern woven in using scarlet thread, which he tied on her face. Then he produced a set of thin cuffs and quickly drew her hands back and attached her wrists behind her back. He then took a strip of green wool and bound it on her arms just above the elbows, forcing her arms and shoulders back and her chest out.
“What? Why?” the girl protested.
“Just to ensure you maintain the proper posture, Rebecca,” explained Elliott in a syrupy voice, taking the leash from the keeper. Looking at how her breasts were thrust out and the mini-jacket separated and her bare middle was uncovered by the now loose cape, he nodded, “Yes, very proper.”
He turned and flung the doors open and strode in with the girl in tow, literally.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Fantastic! It captures (sans masks) the atmosphere I intended for the Ridotto.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
The Bath Minuet Company putting on a Georgian Ball with amatuer dancers (and more women than men -that would never happen in the actual Balls). The complexity of the dances are quite authentic. In my younger days (much younger), I danced Scottish Country Dancing which is quite similar. Though not very graceful, I am good at patterns and therefore remembered where to go - a very valued skill you can see.
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foggybottom
Venator imaginum
I partook in a few Georgian Balls back when I was an 18th century re-enactor, we had people there instructing how to perform different dances. It was an enjoyable learning experience and yes there were more ladies there than men, I also enjoyed that.
I still have my knee breeches, stockings and buckle shoes, I sold my weskit (waistcoat) and tri-corn hat to a fellow re-enactor when I retired from the scene due to a change in work schedule. 
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
So another expert for me to contend with! I hope I've not committed too many anachronisms for your taste.I partook in a few Georgian Balls back when I was an 18th century re-enactor, we had people there instructing how to perform different dances. It was an enjoyable learning experience and yes there were more ladies there than men, I also enjoyed that.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Chapter 24 The Center of Attention
Even for a far less inexperienced person than Rebecca, the sight presented was dazzling. A forty by forty-foot room with a twenty-foot ceiling was brightly lit by a dozen crystal chandeliers and dozens of wall sconces. The walls were covered in blue flock wallpaper, hand-stenciled with repeating patterns of stylized flowers and animals. At one end, on a large balcony, was an orchestra of two dozen musicians, playing lively dance music. Above a small stage in a corner was a banner with the inscription, Fais ce que tu voudras
While the room was impressive, it was the occupants who took Rebecca’s breath away. About forty spectacularly dressed people filled the room. Both men and women wore bright pastel coloured suits and gowns, elaborate wigs of various heights, and much sparkling jewelry. All wore coloured masks. The riot of colour and style was more than the simple country girl had ever dreamed existed.
“They are all so beautiful,” she whispered to Elliott.
“So are you, my dear. And, take note, you are the only one in green.”
Looking again at the crowd, she realized he was right. Her green stood out as a special flower in a field of colour. And her red hair and pink skin contrasted beautifully.
Rather than being flattered, Rebecca was made even more self-conscious. She noticed that though many of the women exhibited daringly low necklines, none had a bare middle.
After only a moment in the room, Sir Elliott and Rebecca (or really, just Rebecca) became the center of attention. Individuals and couples gathered around the pair and gushed over Rebecca’s looks.
“My dear girl,” said an older man with hands covered in diamond rings. “You relight the long- banked fires of my loins. I hear you are from the country, from Kent?" Rebecca nodded and smiled at someone knowing her background. "Does that mean you are open to country matters?" he said, with emphasis on the first syllable of 'country' as he rudely grabbed her crotch, causing a high yelp of protest. "I think I love you!.”
“Such a young coquet and such beauty,” said an elegant lady on the arm of a rich looking man. “Is that your natural hair? It positively glows like a flame. I love how you let it down on your shoulders. So unpretentious and so alluring.” As she said this, she ran her fingers sensuously through Rebecca’s auburn locks. She turned to her companion and said, “Come along, Alfred. Don’t let your mouth hang open! Maybe we’ll bid on her later and perhaps we can both enjoy her innocence.” He replied with a leer, “That would be heaven, Agnes.”
A handsome man of about twenty-five, moved in quickly and slipped his arm around her bare waist. “Do you have more charms that you are not showing us, Rebecca? A posterior?” His hand lowered to squeeze a buttcheek and she squealed in protest. “Don’t make a fuss over that, little girl, one of us will be squeezing more than that soon!”
A very short and bent old man next approached the girl with mutterings of admiration. “Oh my,” he said in a rustic, northern accent. “We don’t see such beauty on the Pennines often! I wish I were twenty years younger so I could give you a go. You remind me of my desire to grope under gore” he said, drooling slightly as he absent-mindedly stroked her tummy. “If only, if only,” he continued muttering as he drifted off in the crowd.
We shall only relate these four encounters since all were of the type. Over the next half hour, Rebecca was the center of attention with people politely looking to get to speak to and even touch her. She said little in return, so overawed was she by the attention. But none seemed interested in what she said, but only how she looked.
Slang:
Grope under gore – reach under a girl’s skirts, archaic even in 1723
Even for a far less inexperienced person than Rebecca, the sight presented was dazzling. A forty by forty-foot room with a twenty-foot ceiling was brightly lit by a dozen crystal chandeliers and dozens of wall sconces. The walls were covered in blue flock wallpaper, hand-stenciled with repeating patterns of stylized flowers and animals. At one end, on a large balcony, was an orchestra of two dozen musicians, playing lively dance music. Above a small stage in a corner was a banner with the inscription, Fais ce que tu voudras
While the room was impressive, it was the occupants who took Rebecca’s breath away. About forty spectacularly dressed people filled the room. Both men and women wore bright pastel coloured suits and gowns, elaborate wigs of various heights, and much sparkling jewelry. All wore coloured masks. The riot of colour and style was more than the simple country girl had ever dreamed existed.
“They are all so beautiful,” she whispered to Elliott.
“So are you, my dear. And, take note, you are the only one in green.”
Looking again at the crowd, she realized he was right. Her green stood out as a special flower in a field of colour. And her red hair and pink skin contrasted beautifully.
Rather than being flattered, Rebecca was made even more self-conscious. She noticed that though many of the women exhibited daringly low necklines, none had a bare middle.
After only a moment in the room, Sir Elliott and Rebecca (or really, just Rebecca) became the center of attention. Individuals and couples gathered around the pair and gushed over Rebecca’s looks.
“My dear girl,” said an older man with hands covered in diamond rings. “You relight the long- banked fires of my loins. I hear you are from the country, from Kent?" Rebecca nodded and smiled at someone knowing her background. "Does that mean you are open to country matters?" he said, with emphasis on the first syllable of 'country' as he rudely grabbed her crotch, causing a high yelp of protest. "I think I love you!.”
“Such a young coquet and such beauty,” said an elegant lady on the arm of a rich looking man. “Is that your natural hair? It positively glows like a flame. I love how you let it down on your shoulders. So unpretentious and so alluring.” As she said this, she ran her fingers sensuously through Rebecca’s auburn locks. She turned to her companion and said, “Come along, Alfred. Don’t let your mouth hang open! Maybe we’ll bid on her later and perhaps we can both enjoy her innocence.” He replied with a leer, “That would be heaven, Agnes.”
A handsome man of about twenty-five, moved in quickly and slipped his arm around her bare waist. “Do you have more charms that you are not showing us, Rebecca? A posterior?” His hand lowered to squeeze a buttcheek and she squealed in protest. “Don’t make a fuss over that, little girl, one of us will be squeezing more than that soon!”
A very short and bent old man next approached the girl with mutterings of admiration. “Oh my,” he said in a rustic, northern accent. “We don’t see such beauty on the Pennines often! I wish I were twenty years younger so I could give you a go. You remind me of my desire to grope under gore” he said, drooling slightly as he absent-mindedly stroked her tummy. “If only, if only,” he continued muttering as he drifted off in the crowd.
We shall only relate these four encounters since all were of the type. Over the next half hour, Rebecca was the center of attention with people politely looking to get to speak to and even touch her. She said little in return, so overawed was she by the attention. But none seemed interested in what she said, but only how she looked.
Slang:
Grope under gore – reach under a girl’s skirts, archaic even in 1723
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old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
What a bunch of perverts!!! Geeze!
The British aristocracy at their finest; no wonder the puritans left for the New World, a place of moral decency for at least the next three centuries.
Migoz2
Senator
Translate it to Latin, and that could be the forum motto:
Quod fasciculum suum pervertit
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
In the words of John Lennon:
"All we are saying, is give Perversion a Chance!"
connoisseurs
Senator
xso
Tribune
Agree! Good to know that no perverts exists within the CF community!What a bunch of perverts!!! Geeze!
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Author's Note.
I first conceived the story of Rebecca (not her name then) a dozen years ago, but never filled out the complete story until now. I also had no conception of trying to create a true period piece with authenticity of location, architecture, clothing and some language.
The two parts I imagined back then excited my libido were scenes of a unfortunate young girl (18+, of course) being swept up in the harshness of the law and then falling into the hands of people who could use a condemned girl as they wished. So the part where she is alone and homeless and arrested, and the part where she is paraded bound and half dressed to a ball were the seminal ideas. There is much more ahead for Rebecca, but I wanted to let you know how important these two parts were for me.
And the motto, Fais ce que tu voudras, 'Do what you wish', was the motto of the original Hellfire Club in 1718
I first conceived the story of Rebecca (not her name then) a dozen years ago, but never filled out the complete story until now. I also had no conception of trying to create a true period piece with authenticity of location, architecture, clothing and some language.
The two parts I imagined back then excited my libido were scenes of a unfortunate young girl (18+, of course) being swept up in the harshness of the law and then falling into the hands of people who could use a condemned girl as they wished. So the part where she is alone and homeless and arrested, and the part where she is paraded bound and half dressed to a ball were the seminal ideas. There is much more ahead for Rebecca, but I wanted to let you know how important these two parts were for me.
And the motto, Fais ce que tu voudras, 'Do what you wish', was the motto of the original Hellfire Club in 1718
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