Indecent: 15 Erotic Victorian Romance Story Box Set (25 page)

The gentlemen of the board came to general agreement on one
point above any other, “Oliva Twist will take on a man well hung, I never was
more convinced of anything,” they nodded. “Well hung indeed.”

Chapter 3

For a week after committing the offence of asking for more
Olivia was kept in a dark and solitary room, the cum on her clothes and drying
by degrees until she rustled with each movement, which were not many. She cried
bitterly over her confinement and the injustice of her punishment after giving
pleasure to every gentleman of the workhouse.

She was provided with exercise once daily. Each morning she
was allowed to wash in the yard, Mr Bummer holding her clothes and observing
her body, ensuring she did not dawdle with regular applications of his cane to
her backside. Afterwards she was taken, still wearing not a stitch, into the
hall where the other girls ate. Here she was tied over a table set aside for
the purpose and spanked soundly as a warning to the others. Her bottom was the
warmest part of her body at this time and the motion of the table on her
clitoris whilst bound in place was such that she could not hold back an orgasm
even whilst the blows to her posterior continued to fall.

After a number of days of this punishment a Mr Cumfield the
arsesweep was passing down the High Street and cogitating on the manner and
means of paying his rent arrears when he spotted the bill on the whorehouse
gate.

Finding a gentleman of the board, Mr Cumfield smiled a
toothless grin. “This girl that wants to be apprenticed?”

“What of her?”

“I could take her on in the arse sweeping business if you
desire.”

“Walk in sir,” said the gentleman.

Once inside Mr Cumfield again made his proposition.

“Arse sweeping is a dangerous trade,” said Mr Limbkins of
the board. “Young girls have almost lost their lives when smothered by the
posterior of a larger client.

“That’s because they do not take a deep enough breath, not
leave a gap in the crack for their nostrils. It’s laziness that’s all sir, I
teach ‘em to hold their breath whilst their tongue is cleaning the hole and
catch up on precious air once the client is cleaned.”

The board conversed amongst themselves before turning back
to the arse sweep. “We do not approve of your proposal,” Mr Limbkins said.

“So you won’t let me have her?”

“Not for the premium we offered.”

“What’ll you give then gentlemen?”

“Three pound ten and you can have a blow job from her.”

“Come, say four pound and a face sitting and you’ve got rid
of her for good.”

“Three pound ten and you come on her face once.”

“Three fifteen and she lets me do it in the style of man’s
best friend?”

“Not a farthing more than three ten.”

“You are hard on me.” Mr Cumfield looked round the table and
then the bargain was made. Mr Bummer instructed that Olivia was to be brought
before the magistrate for approval that afternoon.

In pursuance of this Olivia was released from her bondage
chair and put into clean clothing. “You’re to be a ‘prentice,” said Mr Bummer
as they left the whorehouse. “At a cost to the parish of seventy shillings for
a naughty orphan whom all have come inside.”

Olivia was brought to the magistrates where behind a desk
sat two gentlemen with powdered heads. “This is the girl your worship,” said Mr
Bummer. The magistrates continued sleeping.

“Wake them up,” said Mr Bummer to Olivia. “You know the
way.”

With a sigh Olivia went round the desk and knelt before the
men, reaching into their trousers and pulling out their cocks. She sucked one
into her mouth as the old man stirred and stiffened, the other coming to life
as his cock did in her hand. She made use of the methods she knew well,
bringing each to orgasm in a matter of minutes.

“Oh this is the girl?” said the gentleman with spectacles as
Olivia swallowed the last of his cum. “And I suppose you’re fond of arse
sweeping are you?”

“She is your worship,” said Mr Bummer.

“And she will sweep arses will she?”

“If we bound her to any other trade, she would run away at
once.”

“And you will look after her will you?” said the man to Mr
Cumfield.

“I will,” said he with an ugly leer as Olivia came to stand
shivering beside him, his hands squeezing her bottom roughly.

“What’s the matter girl?”

Olivia fell on her knees and clasped her hands together.
“Please send me back to the bondage chair, starve me, beat me, but do not send
me with this man, arse sweeping is no job for me.”

“We will not sanction these indentures,” said the gentleman,
tossing aside the parchment. “Take her back to the whorehouse and treat her
kindly with regular sex as you see fit. She clearly wants it.”

That same evening Mr Bummer did as ordered, tearing open
Olivia’s whorehouse trousers as she lay strapped and bent over her chair,
entering her most roughly as she gasped at the stretching of her insides from
his girth.

The next morning the public were informed that Olivia Twist
was again To Let and five pounds and anal sex would be given to anybody who
cared to take possession of her.

Chapter 4

The very next day Mr Semenbally, the parochial pimp came
across the bill of sale whilst leaving the whorehouse. He was a tall, gaunt man
in garish suit with a jewel topped cane. “I have inserted myself in the two
women you provided,” he said to Mr Bummer.

“You’ll make my fortune,” the beadle replied.

“Your prices are very tall Mr Bummer

“So are our women.”

“Well you must have your profit I suppose but I would like
to make mine. Perhaps your girl for sale might be the way I could make my fortune.”

Mr Bummer grasped the pimp by the arm and led him in and it
was soon arranged that Olivia would go to him that evening ‘upon liking’ which
meant if the master found after a trial that he could fit enough cock in her
without needing to add too much food besides that he should take him on for
good.

Mr Bummer walked Olivia to meet the pimp, frowning down at
him as she began to cry.

“Well of all the ungratefullest girls in my whorehouse
Olivia, you are the worst.

“No sir, I am a good girl. I am just so lonely for all fuck
me but all hate me. Pray, don’t be cross with me.”

Mr Bummer regarded Olivia for a few seconds before bidding
her to dry her eyes and be good. They walked on in silence.

The pimp who had just put up the shutters of his brothel was
making entries in his day book when Mr Bummer entered.

“So this is the girl?” Mr Semenbally said, pausing in the
middle of a word.

“No one else.”

“Mrs Semenbally, come in here.”

His wife emerged from the room behind the brothel, cum
dripping from her cheek as a sailor squeezed through all and passed into the
street. “This is the girl? She’s very small in the chest.”

“She is small chested,” said Mr Bummer. “But she’ll grow.
Remember she is only eighteen.”

“I dare say she will grow on our victuals and our drink. Get
downstairs girl.” With this she pushed Olivia down a flight of stairs into a
stone cell, the anteroom to the kitchen were a slutty girl sat. “Here
Charlotte,” she continued, “give this girl the cold bits put out for Tit. She
hasn’t come home since the morning so she may go without.”

Olivia whose eyes glistened at the mention of meat was
disappointed to learn Mrs Semenbally was referring to Charlotte’s breasts. She
returned to the brothel whilst Charlotte lifted her top to expose her chest and
brought Olivia’s mouth to suckle on her nipples. She sighed happily as Olivia’s
lips warmed her before pushing her down under her skirts and pulling aside her
knickers. Olivia began to lick her wetness as she slouched back in her seat,
rocking her hips towards Olivia who made short shrift of the meal before her,
bringing Charlotte to a shuddering and screaming orgasm in no time at all.

“Well,” said Mrs Semenbally as Olivia finished her meal.
“Are you done?”

Olivia replied in the affirmative.

“Then come with me,” she said, taking up a lamp and leading
the way upstairs. “Your bed is under the counter. You don’t mind sleeping among
the condoms I suppose? Come, don’t keep me here all night.”

Olivia did not linger but meekly followed her new mistress.

Chapter 5

Olivia was left alone in the brothel with the lamp beside
her. She looked around with awe and dread at the sex toys arrayed across the
window space and on countless shelves. There were dildos and nipple clamps,
ropes and straps, butt plugs and strap ons, enough to drive her mad with lust
at the sight. His ardour was still heightened when she climbed into her narrow
bed and fell asleep.

She was awakened in the morning by a kicking on the brothel
door. As he undid the chains a voice began. “Open the door will yer?”

“I will directly madam,” said Olivia, turning the key.

“I suppose yer the new girl?” said the voice through the key
hole.

“Yes madam.”

“How old are yer?”

“Eighteen madam.”

“Then I’ll spank yer when I get in. You just see if I
don’t.”

Olivia drew back the bolts with a trembling hand and opened
the door.

Outside was a slutty girl eating bread and butter.

“Did you want a dildo?” inquired Olivia innocently.

“You’ll want one before long if you make jokes like that,”
said the girl. “Do you know who I am?”

“No madam.”

“I am Missis Tit Cockpole and you’re under me. Take down the
shutters you young whore.” With this Tit spanked Olivia and entered the
brothel.

Olivia took down the shutters as Mr and Mrs Semenbally came
down, taking both girls down to breakfast.

“Come near the fire Tit,” said Charlotte. “I saved you some
bacon. I know you like pork. Olivia, shut that door and take them bits. There’s
your tea, take it and mind the shop.”

Tit was a charity girl but not from a whorehouse. She could
trace her genealogy to all the way back to her parents who lived nearby.
Fortune having cast upon her a nameless orphan she did not hesitate to make use
of her. Once breakfast was completed she appeared in the shop as the first
clients of the day came in. Setting them in the chairs in the window, she
stripped Olivia of her clothes and offered her to each. Olivia for her part was
unsure what was expected of her but soon came to realise as the gentlemen
requested a show from the three girls of the shop.

Olivia was told to sit and watch Tit and Charlotte without
moving and definitely without touching herself. As the two lovers began to
touch each other, Olivia found it increasingly difficult to sit on her hands as
it seemed did the three gentlemen observing affairs.

Charlotte stripped Tit slowly, teasing her audience as she
took Tit’s tits into her mouth one after the other, sliding a hand down her
panties and stroking her vigorously. Olivia’s pussy began to throb with desire
as she forced herself to remain where she was.

Tit turned to Charlotte, kissing her way down her body until
she was buried between her legs. “You can touch yourself but you mustn’t come,”
Charlotte gasped.

The men reached for their cocks and pulled them out as
Olivia eased the burning itch in her clit, having to stop almost instantly as
she almost came. She moved her hand faster and slower as best she could,
holding back whilst Charlotte came with a scream before her. She bent Tit over
the counter a moment later, pushing two fingers inside her before beckoning the
first of the men over, guiding his cock into her companion’s bottom. “Help
those two,” she motioned to Olivia who stood up and found herself surrounded
with the other two men. They slipped into both her holes in seconds and she was
impaled between them, their bodies crushing her as she reached one climax after
another, the emptiness inside her finally replaced with a delicious fullness.

She couldn’t hear the girls anymore as the men grunted ever
louder in her ears until she felt them both come at the same time, spunk
filling her pussy and her arse simultaneously. The men withdrew slowly and
nodded their thanks to her.

“There’s many more where they came from,” Charlotte said as
the man in Tit’s bottom groaned and fell still, filling her with spunk. “Many
more indeed.

Olivia had been at the brothel for a month when Mr
Semenbally turned to his wife one morning. “My dear, she has such an expression
of melancholy and lust in her face that perhaps she would make a delightful
street worker.”

Mrs Semenbally looked up but said nothing.

“I don’t mean a regular whore working the docks but one for
the poor. A whore in proportion to income if you will.”

Mrs Semenbally was much struck by the idea but it would have
compromised her dignity to say so, instead she inquired only why the idea had
not occurred to her husband before now. Mr Semenbally construed this as
acquiescence and thus it was determined that Olivia would be initiated into the
mysteries of the street trade.

The next morning Mr Bummer entered the shop and passed a
scrap of paper to Semenbally.

“Aha,” said the pimp. “An order for a whore eh?”

“A whore first and a parochial dividend after,” replied Mr
Bummer with a wink.

Semenbally handed over a coin whereupon Mr Bummer made a
passing show of being a magician rather than a beadle in that he made it
disappear with such haste one would have thought it never existed.

“Olivia,” said Semenbally, “Come with me.”

They walked on through the most crowded and densely
inhabited part of town then struck down a narrow street more dirty than any
they had passed. There was no knocker nor bell on the open door where Olivia
and his master stopped. They groped through the dark passage and reached a door
atop the stairs.

It was opened by a young woman of nineteen or twenty who
looked nervous.

“Are you the whore?” she asked in a low voice.

“That I am,” replied Olivia. “May we enter?”

“Enter your chamber and then enter you I say,” added Mr
Semenbally, laughing at his own wit as they were admitted into a grim room with
only a single bed and an empty fireplace.

“How do we do this?” the woman asked.

“However you wish,” the pimp said. “I can join in or wait
outside.”

“I have known the touch of none, male or female,” said the
woman. “My name is Kate by the way.”

“Well Kate,” said Semenbally, “shall we begin?”

He took off his coat and motioned for Olivia to commence
proceedings. For her part Olivia recalled Charlotte’s slow striptease of Tit,
using the same movements to remove Kate’s clothes, kissing each portion of skin
that became exposed. The woman gasped as Olivia’s soft lips slid over her
nipples, making them pucker and harden as Semenbally undressed quietly behind
them both.

Once Kate was naked, Olivia pushed her back onto the bed,
sliding her legs over her face, blocking her view and entreating her to stick
out her tongue post haste. Kate did so, the taste of Olivia falling into her
mouth as Semenbally moved between her legs, thrusting up inside her wetness in
a single movement, making her gasp with surprise. Olivia observed the cock
entering and leaving their client, the sight arousing her so much she needed
only a light brushing over her clit to reach her first orgasm.

As she came she moved off Kate and knelt beside the bed,
taking Semenbally’s cock into her mouth, tasting Kate on his shaft as she drew
him deeper to the back of her throat before guiding him back into their
client’s pussy. She toyed with her clit as Semenbally moved ever faster,
growling with lust as his orgasm approached.

Kate reached a climax first, Olivia’s hands on her clit to
assist and to bring her to a second soon after. Semenbally could last no longer
as she spasmed around his cock, filling her with his seed before slowly
withdrawing and standing up again.

“Well Olivia,” said Semenbally as they walked home
afterwards. “How do you like it?”

“Pretty well thank you,” she replied. “I’m not sure I am
very good though.”

“Ah, you’ll get better with time.”

Olivia wondered in her own mind how long it had taken
Semenbally to get good at it but she thought better than to ask the question,
walking back to the brothel and thinking over all she had seen and heard.