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Rebecca and The Bloody Codes

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Barbaria1 said:
What of the other women at this affair? Surely they don’t approve. They should be appalled if not jealous that all male attention be directed to this girl. Speak up women! Drag these louts away by their ears!!!!
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Do you remember this?
Praefectus Praetorio said:
“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.”
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At least some of the women present seem as anxious as the men to compel and enjoy Rebecca's charms.
 
Praefectus Praetorio said:
Chapter 22 A Very Special Gown

It was Mistress Bly, carrying a mass of fabric. “Come along girl, take off that old shift and let’s try these on. I’ll be able to make them fit like you were born in them!”

Rebecca stripped off her shift as Bly arranged several pieces of fabric on the bed. The girl had no idea how they fit together; most were unlike anything she’d ever had.

What struck her first were the colours, well, really, one variety of colour green, a dark Kelly green. The next impression was the richness of the fabrics. Soft velvet, sheer lace, shiny silk. All material that a poor girl from Kent had never seen up close.

First, Bly had the girl put on a pair of short pantaloons in dark green which rode very low on the hips and stopped six inches above the knee. These were sewn from a fine cotton, almost like silk.

Next real silk stocking, in light green and sheer to the knee with embroidered clocks at the ankle. Rebecca was amazed at the lace garter bands worn to support them. Her stockings were always supported by a simple strip of fabric tied.

Bly had her try on a pair of dainty shoes with silver buckles and heels, but they were a might too big. She said that was no problem, the cobbler could have a smaller pair there in an hour.

Next was a lacy petticoat in a pale green with ruffles to stand out and tied very low on the hips. Rebecca wondered why these garments were worn so low. And why she hadn’t first donned a shift, the ubiquitous undergarment?

Over the petticoat was a velvet skirt, open in front and of dark green to contrast with the light petticoat which showed in front. This also, rode surprisingly low on her hips.

Mistress Bly next produced a narrow swath of sheer green fabric and proceeded to wrap it several times around Rebecca’s chest as a bandeau, tied in the back. The girl saw that you could discern her nipples and aureoles through the sheer cover. Of course, she thought, her kerchief, stays, and gown top would cover it all.

The next was surprising. Rather than stays, Mistress Bly had her don a kind of mini-jacket of the same green velvet as the skirt. Though the beauty of the fabric and fine red embroidery impressed her, it seemed to be too small. It had buttons and closures in front, but these were purely for appearance since the two sides barely came to the middle of each breast and could not be secured. In addition, it was very short, just reaching the bottom curves of her breasts. She looked quizzically at Mistress Bly, who smiled and said, “It’s meant to be that way girl, it’s the fashion so the men can enjoy themselves. Turn around and let me see the full costume.”

As Rebecca turned, she realized the outfit was complete with no shift or stays or kerchief! This outfit left her bare from mid-hip right up to the bottom of her breasts.

Rebecca blushed deeply. “Mistress Bly,” she said softly, not wishing to offend, “It is huge proper, but surely there must be more; it idden decent to go to a Ball half undressed.”

“Hush child, you’ll be in deep trouble objecting,” cautioned Bly. “It’s what the owners want. And in Ramsey House Prison, what the owners want is likes a command from His Majesty, himself!”

The woman picked up the final piece, of the outfit, a shiny green silk cloak that tied at the neck and came down to the top of her thighs. It was cut to flare open in the front and there were no fasteners other than the necktie. Modest Rebeca found that she could use a hand to hold it shut to cover her bare skin.

Bly fastened a green silk choker collar around the girl’s neck and stood back to judge the result. She nodded approval and said. “You look like a hundred pounds, you do! Now just sit down and don’t mess anything and I’ll send for shoes that fit and then do your hair.”

“Could I have some lunch, or, or Supper please?”

“Sir Elliott’s orders, nothing until the Ridotto; you’ll get plenty then, he says.” Mistress Bly hustled out to order the shoes and Rebecca sat in wonderment. The clothes were fabulously expensive and beautiful, but much too immodest to wear to a Ball. But she couldn’t argue, she’d just use one hand all night to hold the cape shut.

Mistress Bly returned shortly and dampened and then brushed and combed Rebecca’s pretty hair. As it was brushed, the auburn highlights brightened and the red curls glistened. The colour was set off to perfection by the greens of the outfit. She did not tie it up, but let it fall naturally down to her shoulders.

By the time she finished, a cobbler’s boy delivered shoes which now fit well. Bly urged Rebecca to walk a little to get used to them. Then she left Rebecca alone and locked the door.

The poor, frightened girl sat on the bed in fine silks and lace and velvet and pondered alternately what the fancy party would be like, and whether she would hang! She tried to calm herself by thinking back to playing with the Marygolds in the garden when she was a little girl.
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For people who ar not really fit in english and have troubles to understand a clothes-word a picture of Rebecca in her outfit were great.
 
geolier said:
For people who ar not really fit in english and have troubles to understand a clothes-word a picture of Rebecca in her outfit were great.
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I agree, but I have not been able to find a pre-existing image that is suitable and I have no knowledge of manips. If any of the wonderful artists here want to try?
 
No Rebecca tomorrow, we leave her for an extra day on the auction block.
I'm sure it will just increase her value on Friday.
In the meantime, enjoy images reminiscent of our story:
A Beauty at the Ridotto
beauty-unmasked.jpg
Examining the Merchandise
jpg_Gerome_Jean-Leon_1824-1904_-_Purchase_Of_A_Slave.jpg
A Red-headed Enchantress
paint46.jpg
Rebecca?
2000_011.jpg
​
 
Barbaria1 said:
Caught up on this story now, and finding everything about it masterfully done!

Bravo! Looking forward to more.
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Research and academic rambling does not make a story.

Just saying.

:)
 
LittleSiss said:
Research and academic rambling does not make a story.
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I can't disagree with that statement. There is a story here. I like to proceed at a leisurely pace, not rush through things without explanation and want to bring my readers into the world of the characters and the story.
I try to balance explanation with momentum and I have put much of the deep research in the prequel posts and separate posts along the way, that a reader, searching for a story, is free to ignore.
Such a reader might be best served by waiting for the archive version. There I intend to include glossary and appendix to avoid interruption.

Just saying. If, in the end, it is still too researched and rambling, the reader may go quietly.

I do appreciate the comment very much. This reply is meant to show respect and, in a small way, justify my choices.

In the words of Samuel Johnson (who was 14 at the time of the story - sorry, academic rambling, can't help myself):

“I would rather be attacked than unnoticed.
For the worst thing you can do to an author is to be silent as to his works.”​
 
More research and academic rambling.

A modern reader (even a CF pervert) might be unappreciative of the fuss made in this story about Rebecca being a virgin and that adding significantly to her value at auction. Nevertheless, it is a documented fact that
many promiscuous men in the eighteenth century made an impassioned pursuit of deflowering virgins. There were several reasons for this.

One was the feudal concept (a concept that most historians believe is a myth) of the droit du seigneur (the lord’s right), or jus primae noctis ('right of the first night'), a supposed legal right in medieval Europe, allowing feudal lords to have sexual relations with subordinate women, in particular, on their wedding nights. The rich and powerful men would see the conquest of a virgin as validating their power and virility. "Everything in the world is about sex except sex. Sex is about power.” An overgeneralization often attributed to Oscar Wilde but not traceable to him or any original author.

Another, related motive was the competitive instinct among rich and powerful men to possess more than others. Samuel Pepys writes in his diary (November 18, 1664) - one Lord Craven compares monopoly to the irreversible nature of virginity: “if I occupy a wench first, you may occupy her again your heart out you can never have her maidenhead after I have once had it.”

Lines from Sappho (c. 600 BCE):
Bride : Maidenhood, maidenhood, where have you gone and left me?
Maidenhood : No more will I come back to you, no more will I come back.

In Fanny Hill (1748), a character is “a slightly dissipated young man of fertile imagination for whom female chastity is the Holy Grail of sexual fetishes...” His fantasy is judged by Fanny to be entirely solipsistic. His adoration of innocence has less to do with women than with his own need to be the conquering hero, the all-powerful ravisher of virgins and other defenseless creatures.

A third, and most unsavory impulse was the “virgin cure myth,” a folklore belief that having sex with a virgin would cure a man of venereal disease (more and more common among the promiscuous in the eighteenth century) by transferring it to the innocent party. Though, of course, there was no factual basis for this and the cure must have almost always failed. But, “hope springs eternal.” So many a man suffering from the degenerative effects of syphilis or gonorrhea would think, "why not get another virgin and try again?" Who cares if it means transmitting the disease to the poor unfortunate girl?

When we speak of the degenerate nature of sexual activity in Rebecca’s time, keep in mind the estimate (needless to say, with very great uncertainty) that one-fifth of women in London in 1750 were engaged in the sex trade.

Tomorrow, The Auction!
 
Praefectus Praetorio said:
More research and academic rambling.

A modern reader (even a CF pervert) might be unappreciative of the fuss made in this story about Rebecca being a virgin and that adding significantly to her value at auction. Nevertheless, it is a documented fact that
many promiscuous men in the eighteenth century made an impassioned pursuit of deflowering virgins. There were several reasons for this.

One was the feudal concept (a concept that most historians believe is a myth) of the droit du seigneur (the lord’s right), or jus primae noctis ('right of the first night'), a supposed legal right in medieval Europe, allowing feudal lords to have sexual relations with subordinate women, in particular, on their wedding nights. The rich and powerful men would see the conquest of a virgin as validating their power and virility. "Everything in the world is about sex except sex. Sex is about power.” An overgeneralization often attributed to Oscar Wilde but not traceable to him or any original author.

Another, related motive was the competitive instinct among rich and powerful men to possess more than others. Samuel Pepys writes in his diary (November 18, 1664) - one Lord Craven compares monopoly to the irreversible nature of virginity: “if I occupy a wench first, you may occupy her again your heart out you can never have her maidenhead after I have once had it.”

Lines from Sappho (c. 600 BCE):
Bride : Maidenhood, maidenhood, where have you gone and left me?
Maidenhood : No more will I come back to you, no more will I come back.

In Fanny Hill (1748), a character is “a slightly dissipated young man of fertile imagination for whom female chastity is the Holy Grail of sexual fetishes...” His fantasy is judged by Fanny to be entirely solipsistic. His adoration of innocence has less to do with women than with his own need to be the conquering hero, the all-powerful ravisher of virgins and other defenseless creatures.

A third, and most unsavory impulse was the “virgin cure myth,” a folklore belief that having sex with a virgin would cure a man of venereal disease (more and more common among the promiscuous in the eighteenth century) by transferring it to the innocent party. Though, of course, there was no factual basis for this and the cure must have almost always failed. But, “hope springs eternal.” So many a man suffering from the degenerative effects of syphilis or gonorrhea would think, "why not get another virgin and try again?" Who cares if it means transmitting the disease to the poor unfortunate girl?

When we speak of the degenerate nature of sexual activity in Rebecca’s time, keep in mind the estimate (needless to say, with very great uncertainty) that one-fifth of women in London in 1750 were engaged in the sex trade.

Tomorrow, The Auction!
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Now well into my ninth decade, I find that actions and attitudes, even as recent as the 1940s and 1950s, which were considered to be right and proper then, would now be regarded as outrageous. There is always a danger when looking at events and personalities in history to judge them by today`s standards ,which is a mistake,we have to try and look at these things in their proper historical context, before coming to judgement .
 
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