Indecent: 15 Erotic Victorian Romance Story Box Set (34 page)

The sound resounded through the house like thunder. Every
room seemed to have a separate peel of echoes. Carol was not a woman to be
frightened by echoing rectal gas. She fastened the door, walked across the wall
and up the stairs, trimming her pussy hair with scissors as she went.

Darkness is cheap and Carol liked it. But before she shut
her heavy door, she walked through her rooms to see that all was right, she
recalled the boob long enough to do that.

All were as they should be. Nobody fucking under the table,
nobody masturbating under the sofa. A small fire in the grate was ready as was
a saucepan of gruel on the hob. Quite satisfied, Carol closed her door, locked
herself in to secure against surprise, took off her dress and put on her night
shirt and dressing gown and then sat down, gruel in her hands.

It was a low fire she sat before and she was obliged to sit
close and brood over it. The tiles around the fireplace were illustrated with
quaint designs and yet the pussy of Marlene appeared on each one in the throes
of orgasm, the contraction of the muscles visible as if each tile had been
blank and she were in the midst of a powerful climax, a rivulet of spunk
dribbling out of her hole.

“Cumbug,” said Carol and walked across the room. After
several turns, she sat down again. As she threw her head back she happened to
glance at a disused bellended vibrator that sat gathering dust on top of a
cupboard. It was with great astonishment and inexplicable dread that as she
looked ,the vibrator began to move, buzzing louder and louder until it fell
from the top of the cupboard and onto the floor, spinning wildly in circles for
half a minute that seemed like an hour.

The vibrator fell still, succeeded by a clanking noise deep
below as if some person were dragging heavy chains over casks in the wine
merchant’s cellar. Carol remembered that Marlene used to like being tied in
chains.

The cellar door flew open and then she heard the noise much
louder, coming up the stairs, someone coming on the stairs in a loud moan and
then coming straight towards her door.

“It’s cumbug,” said Carol. “I won’t believe it.”

Her colour changed when without pause it came on through the
door and into the room before her eyes. The dying flame leapt up and the
vibrator buzzed loudly.

The same pussy, the same knocker. It was Marlene, naked,
bound in chains and ropes around her middle. The chains were made of bent and
curved sextoys, vibrators and more. The ropes were of peephole bras and
crotchless panties, silk stockings, leather boots, all tied tightly together.

Though Carol looked the phantom up and down and through and
through, she fought against her senses. “What do you want with me?” Carol
asked, as cold as ever.

“Much!” Marlene’s voice, no doubt about that.

“Who are you?”

“Ask me who I was.”

“Who were you?”

“In life I was your partner, Marlene.”

“Can you sit down?”

“I can on that vibrator.”

Carol placed the sex toy on the seat of a chair and Marlene lowered
herself onto it. Translucent as only a spirit can be, Carol watched the sex toy
both go into Marlene’s pussy but also remain visible through her body.

“You don’t believe in me,” observed the ghost.

“I don’t.”

“What evidence would you have of my reality beyond the fact
that I’m so clearly here being fucked by this delightful device? Do you doubt
your senses?”

“A little thing may affect them. A disorder of the pussy
cheats the mind. You might be a thwarted orgasm, a bit of spunk in my eye.
There’s more of love gravy than of grave about you.”

Carol didn’t often crack jokes but had done so to distract
her attention and keep down her arousal for the sight of the spectre’s naked
body was making her pussy throb with desire for the first time in years. To sit
staring at those enormous boobs would play the deuce with her. There was
something arousing about the spectre’s whole being as her skin moved as if
invisible hands were toying with her whilst she sat.

“You see this carrot,” said Carol, picking up a scrawny
specimen of the vegetable kingdom.

“I do.”

“I have but to fuck myself with this and not reach climax to
be persecuted for the rest of my days by fantasies of group sex with an entire
cricket team. The illness brought on by thinking of spunk. In short, cumbug I
say. Cumbug.”

At this the spirit began to bounce on the vibrator, her clit
moving as if teased by unseen tongues. She shook her chains and made such a
loud cry of orgasmic pleasure that Carol held on tight to her chair to save
herself from spontaneously climaxing at the sight. “Why do you trouble me
dreadful apparition?”

“Do you believe in me coming before you or not?”

“I do. I must. But why come in front of me?”

“It is required of every adult that they fuck far and wide
and if not done in life, they are condemned to do so after death. Oh woe is me
for not sleeping with more people when alive.”

Again the spectre moaned, shook its chains and reached a
shuddering climax.

“You are fettered in chains,” said Carol, trembling with
desire. “Tell me why?”

“I wear the chain I forged in life,” replied the ghost. “I
made it link by link, girded it of my own free will. Is its pattern strange to
you?”

Carol trembled more and more, her clit aching for attention
as Marlene fingered a length of maid’s uniform tied around her ankle.

“Or would you know the weight and length of coils you bear
yourself. Each time you turn down sex, another length is added and your chains
were this long and heavy seven years ago. You have ignored your pussy a long
time since.”

Carol glanced around as if expecting to find herself tied
down by fifty fathoms of dildo shaped cable but she saw nothing. “Marlene,” she
implored. “Tell me more, speak comfort to me.”

“I have none to give. It shall come from elsewhere as shall
you come elsewhere. My time is nearly done! Listen to me!”

“I will but don’t allow a hard on to be put in me.”

“I have sat here invisible many a day and watched you refuse
to masturbate. I saw you that time you pushed a finger into your bottom
ostensibly to warm it, I saw the excitement in your eyes and the sadness when
you forced it out again. You have the spark of desire in you, a chance to
escape my fate.”

“You were always a good friend to me.”

“You will be fucked by three spirits.”

Carol’s countenance fell low at the thought. “Is that the
chance and hope you mentioned?”

“It is. You must let them fuck you, hard, fast and in
whichever position they see fit until mutual orgasms are achieved by all and
you are filled with ectoplasm.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Without their visits, you cannot hope to shun the path I
tread. The first will come tomorrow when the bell tolls one and they should all
come shortly afterwards if you understand my meaning. By which I mean spunk in
you.”

“Couldn’t I take them all at once and have it over?”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? Three on one? It is not the
way. Expect the second on the next night at the same hour. The third upon the
next night when the last stroke of your pussy and your sex toy has ceased to
vibrate. Look to see me no more and remember what has passed between us and up
me.”

Saying those words, the spectre stood up and walked
backwards as the window behind it began to open.

It beckoned Carol to approach when it reached it, sitting on
the windowsill with its legs spread wide apart. Carol became aware of confused
noises in the air outside, the mixed sounds of countless people in the midst of
passionate lovemaking. Marlene listened for a moment then began to join in the
noise as she motioned for Carol to lick her pussy.

This Carol did, unable to stop herself at the sight of it
glistening even as she could see the windowsill through it. Marlene leaned back
and rocked her hips against Carol’s tongue, moaning ever louder as behind her
the air filled with phantoms, all fucking or watching in restless haste,
moaning as they went.

Carol ran her tongue along the length of Marlene’s barely
there pussy, sinking into her hole but having to resist delving too deep for
fear her head would push on through and she’d be licking the windowsill
instead.

She found the engorged nub of Marlene’s clit and flicked her
tongue over it until Marlene let out a wail of delight and climaxed, falling
back as she did so, drifting out of the window and up into the air to join the
other spirits.

Carol looked out, seeing a number of phantoms known to her
in life. There was one voluptuous naked woman crying piteously at being unable
to sink onto the erect cock of a man sat masturbating in the street below, her
chains holding her in place. A gentleman was trying to push himself into the
ass of a woman bent over to tie her shoes, her dress riding up to expose her
lack of underwear but he merely passed through her and up on the next gust of
wind.

They all looked sexually frustrated as they sought to
improve the lot of the living and yet could not. Whether they faded into the
mist or the mist faded into them, Carol could not tell but they soon faded away
and night was night again.

Carol closed the window and examined the door by which the
ghost had entered. It was still locked. She tried to say cumbug but stopped at
the first syllable. Being tired of the emotions endured whilst bringing Marlene
to orgasm, she went straight to bed and refused to masturbate, lying with a
pussy which begged for attention until she fell asleep.

Chapter 2

When Carol awoke it was so dark that looking out of bed she
could hardly distinguish between the window and the wall of her bedroom. She
was attempting to pierce the darkness when the chimes of a nearby church struck.
Her mind was as fogged as the sky outside as memories of her dream washed over
her, blurring with her memory of Marlene’s visit. In her dream Marlene was as
solid and real as her, pushing her back onto the bed and climbing on top of
her, fingers and lips moving over every inch of her body under her nightshirt.

The heavy bell didn’t stop chiming. It went all the way up
to twelve. Twelve! It was two when she went to bed. The clock must be wrong. “I
cannot have slept through a day and into the next night. It must be noon.”
Leaping out of bed, she was obliged to rub the frost from the window before
looking out and even then all she could see was fog and darkness.

She went to bed again, her nipples achingly hard in the
cold, her pussy throbbing with desire which she chose to ignore. She lay in
this state for three quarters more, unable to sleep as her clit screamed to be
touched and yet unwilling to degrade herself by deigning to attend to it. She
remembered all of a sudden that Marlene’s ghost had warned of a visit at one
and resolved to lie awake until the hour had passed.

The quarter was so long that she was convinced she must have
dozed and missed the clock until it broke upon her listening ear.

Ding dong.

“Quarter past,” said Carol as the thought of a huge dong
filled her mind.

Ding dong.

Half past, thought Carol, an image entering her mind of what
half could also mean. It could refer to semi as of a semi on, a cock beginning
to stiffen and grow as her lips enveloped it.

Ding dong.

Quarter to, thought Carol, visions in her head of a penis at
the same angle as the minute hand, thrusting towards her waiting pussy.

Ding dong.

“The hour and nothing else.”

The hour bell sounded and light flashed into the room, the curtains
of her bed drawn aside by a hand. Carol started up and found herself face to
face with the unearthly visitor. It was a strange figure, young and old at the
same time. Its hair hung about its neck, white with age yet the face bore no
wrinkle. The arms were long and muscular, the hands the same. It tore a short
tunic of shimmering white and jutting from its hips was a cock as green as
holly. From its tip sprung a jet of light by which all this was visible.

“Are you the spirit whose coming was foretold to me?” asked
Carol.

“I am.” The voice was soft and gentle, low as if coming from
a distance and yet seductive as if whispered into her ear.

“Who and what are you?”

“I am the ghost of erotic encounters past.”

“Long past?”

“Your past.”

“Perhaps you might shield the light coming from your member
for it is blinding my eyes.”

“What? Would you put out the light I give? I am here for
your welfare and that is how you greet me, asking me to cover my cock?”

“I apologise good sir but perhaps sleep would be better for
my wellbeing than the sight of a stranger’s reproductive organ.”

“It is a cock and I want you to take hold of it this instant
and we will walk together.”

It would have been in vain for Carol to plead that the
weather and the hour were not adapted to walking, that she was clad in nothing
more than a nightshirt and that she had no interest in holding his prick. She
rose as the spirit moved to the window.

“I will fall,” said Carol, looking down at the ground far
below.

“The slightest taste of my spunk and you shall be upheld as
if you were a night owl. On your knees Carol Christmas.”

“I am not desirous of your seed in my mouth.”

“You are coming with me out of this window. Suck me and fly,
reject me and fall. Your choice.”

Carol tried to protest but the spirit was unmoved. Finally
she reasoned that if this were a dream, as she was certain it was, sucking a
dream cock would be permitted even to her prudish mind. Thus she lowered
herself until it was at eye level and taking the shaft in her hand she opened
her mouth and eased it inside. Once it was on her tongue all doubts were gone
in the same instant as the bright light vanished and she desired only to taste
the spirit’s issue. She licked and sucked in the dark as if she had done so
daily for many years, being unable to see making her shame lessen as the cock
began to twitch and shake.

A moment later the spirit came and her mouth was filled with
cum that ran to back of her throat, the salty taste of it warming her soul. At
once she felt lighter and as the spirit stepped from the window ledge into the
night air she took his hand and away they went, passing through the wall in an
instant.

They were stood upon an open country road, fields either
side. The city had vanished as had the mist for it was a clear cold winter’s
day with snow upon the ground.

“I was a young woman here,” said Carol, clasping her hands
together, the taste of spunk still upon her tongue. “I lost my virginity in
this place.”

“Your lip is trembling,” said the ghost.

“It is nothing. Lead me where you will.”

“You recollect the way?”

“I could walk it blindfold.”

“Shame I did not bring one. Though it is strange you forgot
your homeplace this many years.”

They walked along the road and Carol recognised every gate
and tree as being where she took her first forays into womanhood. They reached
a market town with bridge, church and winding river. A group of men and women
approached, stepping off the path into the field beyond. Carol looked across at
them as one man spoke.

“Are we sure none can see us here?”

“We are alone,” a woman replied. “Let us begin for I am
desirous of discovering what the delightful thing is of which you’ve often
spoken.”

“I also wish to learn the pleasures of intercourse post
haste,” added another.

“And I’m dead horny,” cried a third.

They laughed at her coarse tone before the three men in
unison pulled out their cocks. They gave guidance to the women as to the best
way to suck and lick them. Carol and the ghost observed in silence until the
women raised their skirts and in a line bent over on their knees, posteriors
presented to the cocks behind them.

“This is the story they told me when they returned,” Carol
said. “I did not believe they had really done it but it was true.”

The three men entered the three women at the same moment,
the air filled with the moans and cries of each of them. The three couples
tried numerous positions, experimenting with what felt best as they were guided
towards powerful orgasms. “I wish that I could join them,” said Carol.

“These are but shadows of the things that have been,” said
the ghost. “They have no knowledge of us and you would pass through them as if
you were a mere chill wind.”

Carol could name each of the participants and her heart
leapt up at the sight of their pleasure, jumping for joy as each man came
inside his partner. Afterwards they parted and went away to their different
homes.

“The finishing school is not quite deserted,” said the
ghost. “A solitary eighteen year old woman, neglected by her friends, is left
there still.”

Carol said she knew it and began to sob.

They left the high road and soon approached a mansion of
dull red brick with a cock shaped weather cock upon the roof. It was a large
house but of broken fortune, walls damp, windows broken, gates decayed. Passing
inside they found the rooms poorly furnished, cold and vast.

They went across the hall to a door at the back of the
house. It opened to disclose a long bare room filled with desks. At one sat a
young woman masturbating by a feeble fire. Carol sat on a chair and wept to see
her poor forgotten self trying ineffectually to reach an orgasm for the first
time, following the guidance of the book open beside her but unable to pass the
point of no return.

The spirit touched her on the arm and pointed at her younger
self intent on her reading. Suddenly outside the window they could see the
scene enacted.

“Why it’s Alison and Barbara,” exclaimed Carol. “I remember
the story. They came together in the tales of erotic adventures I used to read.
And there is the vibrator boy buzzing along the women of the HMS Cocksucker
lined up ready. Do you see the giant with his beanstalk? Biggest dick in the
empire and used only to bring pleasure, never to harm or do evil.”

To hear Carol expending her heart on such a subject in a
voice halfway between laughing and crying, her excited and aroused face shining
with life, would have indeed been a surprise to her business friends in the
city.

“There’s the Parrot,” cried Carol. “So called because she
squawked when she climaxed. Poor Robin Cumsoe, he thought she was ill when he
first made her orgasm. Oh I wish…” Carol dabbed her eyes with her cuff. “But
it’s too late now.”

“What is the matter?”

“Nothing. There was a lad of eighteen who asked for one off
the wrist from me as he had no money for a whore the other day. I should have
liked to have given him one, that’s all.”

The ghost smiled thoughtfully and rotated his cock with his
hips, saying as he did so, “Let us see another Christmas.”

Carol’s former self seemed to balloon out in her chest as
the room changed, becoming darker and dirtier, the windows cracking as a year
passed in the twinkling of an eye. There she was again, pacing up and down and
glancing anxiously at the door.

It opened and a man of eighteen came darting in, kissing
Carol and addressing her as, “Dear stepsister. I have come to bring you home.”

“Home Fan?”

“Yes! Home for good and all. Father is so much kinder since
he started taking the pills again. Home is like heaven now and I asked him if
you could return for you are like a sister to me even though we are not related
by blood, remember that, we are not blood relations.”

“Why are you saying that so loudly?”

“Just making sure anyone overhearing understands we are not
related by blood.”

“Say blood more.”

“I asked father if you could come home and he said yes and
sent me in a coach. You’re to never come back here and we’ll be together all
the Christmas long and perhaps I could give you a White Christmas?”

“But we live together dear Fan.”

“Yes but we are not related, I thought I made that very clear.”

“Then perhaps a White Christmas upon my face would be an
adequate way of celebrating.”

He began to drag Carol to the door just as a terrible voice
in the hall cried, “Bring me Miss Carol’s box.” In the hall appeared the schoolmaster
who glared at Carol with such ferocity that Carol cowered backwards. He
conveyed the pair into a parlour and produced a decanter of light wine and a
cock of heavy weight. The three sipped the wine as the master began to
masturbate freely, bringing Carol’s face to his cock just as he came to coat
her cheeks for a final time before she was bade farewell and set off with Fan
into the snow.

“Always a delicate creature,” said the ghost. “But he had a
large heart.”

“So he had,” cried Carol.

“He died a man and had children.”

“One child.”

“Your step-nephew.”

“To whom I am not directly related, yes.”

At that moment the school vanished behind them and they were
now in the busy thoroughfare of a city where shadowy carts and coaches battled
for the way. It was plain by the dressing of the shops that it was Christmas
time again but it was evening and the streets were lit up.

The ghost stopped at a warehouse door and asked Carol if she
knew it.

“Know it? I was apprenticed here in the sexual arts.”

They went in. At sight of an old woman sitting behind a high
desk, Carol cried out in excitement.

“Why it’s old Lezziwig. Bless her heart. It’s Lezziwig alive
again.”

Old Lezziwig laid down her pen and looked at the clock which
pointed to the hour of seven. She rubbed her pussy, adjusted her boobs, laughed
all over herself and called out, “Yoho Carol, time for Dick.”

Carol’s former self now a sprightly twenty years old came
briskly in followed by a man with his cock out. “Dick wants to give me his
dick,” said Carol to the ghost. “Bless me yes, he was much attached to me with
his dick was Dick.”

“Yo ho,” said Lezziwig. “No more work tonight. Christmas Eve
Dick, put your dick in her and then get the shutters up.”

You wouldn’t believe how fast the pair went at it. Carol had
her dress round her waist and leapt onto Dick in both meanings of the term. She
rode him whilst old Lezziwig laughed and yelled, “Yoho,” twice more.

Once Carol had achieved a satisfying orgasm, the pair
panting like racehorses, she set up the shutters in the street and returned to
a cleared desk. “Clear the room,” was the next command.

There was nothing they wouldn’t have cleared and it was done
in a minute. Every movable was packed off, the floor swept and watered, the
lamps trimmed, the cumstains washed off the walls and the warehouse was as sung
and warm as a ballroom.

In came a fiddler fiddling with himself followed by a second
fiddler with a fiddle who at least resisted a diddle. In came Lezziwig and
three little Lezziwigs. In came six followers whose hearts they broke by not
wanting the company of men. In came the house staff. In they all came and away
they all went, round and round in various stages of copulation. All the while
old Lezziwig would cry out, “Well done,” as each orgasm was achieved.

There was more sex and more cum and a cold roast and plenty
of beer. When the clock struck eleven the ball broke up and old Lezziwig shook
an intimate body part of each person as they went out, wishing them a Merry
Christmas. When all had retired but Dick and Carol, they fucked them before
leaving them to their beds.