admin

*** This is my first story, let me know what you think. ***

***

It was mid-afternoon, and a girl ran hard across the field. The grass was short, and even though she wore a half-inch heeled boots, it provided excellent footing. Her flowing ankle length dress billowed wildly around her long legs as she descended into a natural dip in the landscape.

On her heels was a man riding a horse. The sound of the galloping stallion echoed loudly through the countryside. For a brief moment he reigned in the beast, which was panting and sweating hard. He had lost her, but then she appeared. His nineteen year old quarry was heading for a wooden boundary fence. He struck the riding crop firmly against the horses rear, urging it after her.

Emily swung her legs over the fence. As she landed, she took a fleeting glance at her pursuer. His horse was bringing him ever closer. She could feel her chest heaving with exertion, and her heart fluttering with anticipation. Without a second glance, she was running again. The faster she went, the more her legs felt like jelly, and the more her breathing labored.

Victor took the fence with ease. His horse landing with a satisfying thump. He caught sight of his prey and smiled. Not long now, he thought. On he rode. The distance between the pair shortening every second.

Desperately, she headed for a small wood. She hoped it would slow him down.

The barbs of a wild blackberry bush caught the fabric of her linen dress. Rather than hampering his progress, it was slowing hers

Victor, seeing her enter the wood, took his horse to the right, skirting around the wood. He knew this land well, and he intended to cut her off. Better to take her there, than on the open field, he mused.

She made it deep inside before finally stumbling over an exposed root. It turned her ankle painfully, and with a limp she headed into a clearing.

Victor's horse was quick, it was bred for the race track. He had found a log cutters path and had made his way inside.

Emily stopped. There he was, blocking her only path. His horse snorted loudly.

Her limbs felt weak, and her ankle burned with fire. She dropped to the ground, her dress ballooning around her.

He slipped off the saddle, his leather riding boots landing with a thud on the ground. as he approached her, he tapped the leather riding crop against his leg.

She looked around. There was no way out. This clearing in the wood, on the Keeley Hall estate, was where she was going to be deflowered, and she couldn't be happier.

***

Keeley Hall didn't have a lord. The last one died almost twenty years previously. Some said he had been driven mad by a curse. Other said, that he simply drank himself to death.

The abandoned estate was bought by the Lancaster family. A once middle-class household, brought high by the industrial revolution. The patriarch owned mills, mills that made them money. The money in turn bought them a grand seat in the countryside.

Their position waned though, bad debts and an over extended credit line at Chesterton and Son's bank. It had taken them a mere handful of years to lose Keeley Hall.

The bank took the mills, and the hall, but not all the land, they kept a small holding for themselves on the estate. A small cottage with a tumbledown farm.

John Lancaster was born in the slums, lived in a country mansion, and died in a small cottage. The locals blamed the curse. His family blamed his poor business dealing. He had left them a home though, and a small inheritance. Still, though, for his wife and daughter, the life they had lived was now no more.

Louise and her daughter Emily, lived relatively peacefully in the shadow of the Georgian house. Then as all good property, it was bought.

His name was Victor Jellico, Not a lord, but a disgraced peer. Scandal followed him. He had enjoyed cards, actresses, and drink. It wasn't until he took the honor of a married woman in the confines of a carriage that his wild lifestyle caught up with him. The rumors grew and spread. Once fine establishments now turned their back, and friends stopped calling. He fled the city in search of peace.

"I think that's his carriage. " Emily said, excitedly to her mother.

Louise nodded, as they stood at the gates to their meager home. She loved her daughter, and always enjoyed her enthusiasm for the simplest of things. They both stood and watched it rising over the hill, making its way to Keeley Hall.

The week before they had done the same thing, only that time they were watching a procession of servants and groundsmen taking their residence before their master. The hall had to be ready for his arrival. One of the cooks had come the day before to talk. He needed eggs and fresh produce, and liked the prospect of having a small farm nearby for such things. It would also mean a small amount of extra income.

"We can't see him." Emily said, a little disheartened.

"I'm sure he is a stuffy old man." Louise said. Her daughter was nineteen now, and her interest in men was gaining steam. She hoped that ankara escort she would find a nice local boy in the village to marry.

In Emily's mind, the man in the carriage was handsome and dashing. Someone to take her away from her life of drudgery and boredom.

If he had the blinds of the carriage open, and he looked their way, from that distance he would have seen two women that didn't look so dissimilar to each other. There both shared the same build. Average height, and with a slight slender frame. Emily also took her mothers hair. A light chestnut colour, that each of them had tied up tightly against their scalps.

It was only at a closer distance that the differences were noticeable. The lines on Louise's face befit a woman of her age, while Emily's freckles that adorned her smooth youthful complexion spoke more towards the innocence and inexperience of the young. The boys in the village also noticed a similarity much to their delight. Emily had also inherited her mothers ample bosom. It was even more apparent as it pushed willfully against the linen dress she wore. A dress that desperately needed to be adjusted to accommodate her burgeoning body.

"Do you think he will be safe from the curse?" She said, to her mother.

Louise shook her head. "There is no curse, it's just a silly tale to entertain the small-minded."

Emily thought about that, as her mother went back into the cottage. A boy from the village had told her more about the strange things that went on at Keeley Hall. The noises at night, the sad fates of all the previous occupants. To her it all sounded very interesting. Her mother would hear nothing of it. Maybe because her late husband was now part of the folklore.

After the excitement of the carriage arriving Mother and daughter went about their daily routine. Louise went to clean out the chicken coup and Emily, having already completed her daily tasks, went into the fields nearby. She wandered alone looking for flowers for her scrap book. It was almost full now, she thought.

She returned to the cottage an hour later, with a handful of poppy's. In her room she went about her routine of pressing them between two heavy books. Both were volumes of an encyclopedia that her Father had saved from the debtors. A to B, and C to D, did the job nicely. It would take some time for gravity to do it's work.

"Do you think he is married?" She asked her Mother, who was now busy washing pots in the kitchen.

"I'd hope he would be, living in that house." She answered. "Give me a hand with these."

As they washed and scrubbed, there was a knock at the door. Louise answered it to find the cook from Keeley Hall. They greeted and shared a few words about the weather.

"Do you have anymore eggs?" He inquired.

"Emily, go fetch this man some eggs." She said.

Emily nodded happily, glad to get out of the kitchen for a change.

As she walked with him to the chicken coup, he introduced himself. His name was Mr Laithwaite, and he was middle-aged, and fat. A sign of a good cook, Emily thought wickedly.

"Can I help you with them to the Hall." Emily asked as she filled a wicker basket.

He nodded, glad for the company. She didn't check with her mother, as she doubted her approval would be forthcoming. It wasn't along trip anyway.

They chatted and Emily asked him about the curse. Mr Laithwaite came from a neighboring county and hadn't been aware of the talk. He took her questions as simple daydreams of the bored and the young. He humored her non-the-less.

Emily thought that the house looked better now that the shutters had been taken in. It looked more alive. Some of the windows were open, letting in the fresh air, and letting out the staleness of inactivity. She could see people moving around inside, as they worked.

When she lived there, she would always go through the front, but as a mere deliverer of eggs she was guided to the rear of the building.

"I will return the basket." Mr Laithwaite said, and he unburdened Emily of her basket of eggs. As he did, neither of them noticed the man approaching.

Victor had been in the study over seeing the hanging of a painting when he noticed the two figures approaching the house. He knew the cook, but the girl was a stranger to him. It crossed his mind that this pretty girl was a member of his staff, as he didn't know them all. A good enough time, he thought, to introduce himself.

He approached them from one of the side doors. Living in the social circles that he did, he was used to sizing people up at a moments glance. That's all it took to give him a measure of this girl. She looked poor, but not a destitute. To him, her youthful face gave an air of naivety. A country girl through and through. Of course, he had heard stories of these provincial girls, and how their virginity didn't stay intact for very long. Especially with many places for young people to sneak off to.

"Good morning, Mr Laithwaite." He said.

"Sir." He replied, and tugged at his forelock. "This is Emily Lancaster. From the cottage down the way."

She ankara escort bayan smiled a little shyly at him. Emily knew who he was. His clothes gave his position away. He had a head of jet black hair, and a perfectly cut face. Handsome, and with dark mysterious eyes. He was tall too, and cut a fine figure in his fancy outfit, she thought.

"How are you, Emily?" He asked, using her christian name, as one would do a child.

This made her blush slightly, but enough so that he could she her cheeks redden. As she greeted him, his eyes lingered for a moment on her full chest. He thought that they filled her linen dress delightfully, and that her pearl buttons just begged to be undone.

"Bringing us eggs. I see." He said, and again she nodded politely.

She was shy, he thought. Maybe he had misjudged her, and she could be a virgin after all. It was a nice thought.

"The Lancaster's, were the family who owned Keeley Hall previously." The cook interjected.

This gave Victor all the excuses he needed.

"Is that right? Maybe you could help me Emily?"

"Of course, Sir." She said.

He told her that he needed some advice on the placement of some artwork.

"It would help to get your opinion, seeing as you know the house so well."

At first Emily, questioned her own expertise on such a matter, but Victor assured her, it would be most helpful to him.

Mr Laithwaite was dismissed, and Victor invited her in.

It was strange for Emily to be back in the house that she had once lived in. It felt much smaller than she remembered. The walls were bare and made it seem more empty to her. Victor was polite though, and a gentleman. It was nice to be in his company.

"Your Father bought this house, yes?" Victor asked.

She nodded and told him briefly about her childhood growing up here.

"Do you know about the curse?" Emily asked. She didn't want to scare him, but she was curious to what he already knew.

"No, what curse?"

She told him what she knew, which admittedly wasn't much. He was polite and listened. Curses and folklore was not something he gave much mind too, but he listened as she talked.

"You must tell me more about it sometime." He said, as they made their way into the entrance hall. The artwork in question was a fine bronze statue of a horse.

"It's beautiful." Emily said, truthfully. It was an excellent representation. The artist had managed to capture the strength and beauty of the animal. Emily could clearly see the muscle definition which made it almost seem lifelike.

"Isn't it just. I had it commissioned especially."

As her eyes were mesmerized on the dark surface of the stature, his eyes took another lengthy look as her breasts. They looked firm and plump. She probably was the type to protest if he just reached out and cupped one, he thought.

"Feel the quality." He said, and took hold of her hand. At first there was a little reluctance on her part, but he was respectful, and she let him guide her hand onto the statue.

As he traced her hand over the hind quarters of the horse, she felt her heart flutter a little. It was slightly inappropriate, but it was only to help her appreciate the art better. The smooth metal was cold, but somehow warm at the same time. It wasn't just a quick caress, he was slowly stroking her hand over the curves of the horse.

"What do you think?" Victor asked.

There was a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. If she had been more experienced she would have known his intentions straight away.

"It's very nice." She said, and nervously drew her hand away. This made him smile inwardly. He liked it when girls became nervous around him. It was all part of the game.

"My horse Agamemnon will be here in a day or so. I'd love you to meet him, Emily."

"I'd like that too." She said, a little weakly.

There was something about him that made her feel special. It was a mixture of his confidence and his bearing. She felt foolish around him. He had asked for her opinion and all she could say was that it was nice. All the thoughts she had, were too hard to communicate. It didn't help that she was attracted to him too. Emily had never met a man like him before. He was so different than the boys in the village. While they were common and salt of the earth types, he was refined and well-spoken.

"Until then, maybe." He said, giving her a curt nod.

She agreed and made her own way out.

This was his way, get them interested and leave them wanting more. He knew that he would be on her mind for the next few days.

***

Days went by, and Victor had never left Emily's thoughts. She replayed their meeting over and over in her mind. Still, she had felt like she had let herself down. He must have thought I was a real bumpkin, she mused. Part of her wanted to ask her Mother's advice, but she knew that wasn't such a good idea.

Then one day she saw him riding, he was far off in the distance, but she was sure it was him. Her Mother thankfully had to go into the village to escort ankara buy some bread. This was her chance, she thought.

She took a shortcut over a small field, and soon she was at the stables at the rear of the hall.

Victor and his horse were there, he was brushing it off, after his ride. For a few moments she observed him without him knowing. He was wearing his riding gear, knee-high riding boots, ice white breeches and a grey waistcoat. They looked to be tailored and fit him very well.

She was worried that he might turn around at any second and catch her watching, so she approached him anxiously.

"Emily." He exclaimed, as he heard her footsteps on the flagstones. "I knew you'd want to come," and he did. This shy girl had thankfully plucked up the courage. Question was would she let him pluck her flower.

"He is very big." She said. Agamemnon lived up to his majestic name, she thought.

He nodded, and gestured for her to come closer.

Emily had been around horses before, but something about this animal was intimidating. It was as black as coal, and looked as muscular as the bronze statue. It was restless after it's run, and it's legs fidgeted. She thought, that at any moment it could just bowl her over.

"He was a racehorse. Out to stud now."

She nodded, as she let Agamemnon sniff her palm. It snorted heavily, making her jump a little.

"You know what a stud horse is for??" He asked.

"I do, Sir." She said, feeling her cheeks redden.

"There's a filly on the next estate, her owner is going to pay me fifteen guineas for Agamemnon to service her. He needs to break her in first though."

Emily nodded again.

This time he smiled, as he asked her if she knew what that meant.

She knew better than to answer, he was teasing her.

"Have you been broken in Emily?" He asked.

This shocked her, and she really began to blush now. She couldn't even look at him. The boldness of the question was far too much.

"I've embarrassed you, I apologize." He said, a little more softly. Victor knew what effect the question would have on her, and it had achieved it's desired result.

"It's okay." She said.

"Like I say, he is a race horse, maybe we could have a race?"

"I... don't have a horse." Emily admitted with some regret.

"How about this then." He said, cheerfully. "You can be on foot, I will give you a head start. Like a fox hunt."

She laughed, assuming he was making a joke.

"I have a shilling. If you beat me you can have it."

"I don't have any money." She said, not really sure if this was a joke anymore.

He approached her and put his hands on her shoulders, making her stiffen up.

"If I win then, I will get what's under your dress." His words were low and measured, and spoken directly into her ear.

It was too much, she mumbled that she was expected home, and quickly turned on her heels and started to walk away. Her whole face felt flushed. Was he just being cruel, she thought. He couldn't be serious.

Victor was serious, as serious as he'd ever been in his life. He jumped up on his horse, and began following her at a slow walk. Agamemnon wanted to run, but Victor held him firmly.

She heard him, but didn't turn, He was gaining slowly, the sound of shodden hoofs on the flagstones crept closer. Her farm would be quicker if she cut across the countryside. As she walked out onto the close cut grass, she increased her pace.

Behind her, she heard the horse going into a trot. Her heart was beating out of her chest.

Then she ran, she didn't know why, but she did. As per his word, he gave her a head start, he sat on the horse watching her. He waited till she looked over her shoulder, then he brought the whip down hard on the horse's rear. Agamemnon burst into life, and tore across the countryside towards it's prey.

***

Emily could barely look at him as he approached. There was a strong knot in her stomach that made her feel faint. The pain in her ankle was almost forgotten now.

"I've come to claim my prize." He said.

Victor could see the anticipation she was trying to hide, but still she seemed nervous. The dye had been cast, and both of them knew what was about to happen. He knelt before her, his eyes never leaving hers.

He eased her gently onto her back. then as he knelt between her legs, he raised her skirt. Then he did something Emily had not expected. He lowered his head between her legs.

Her bosom rose and fell quickly as she felt his hands pulling at her undergarments. Then his face was on her sex. She bit her lip as his mouth engulfed her pussy.

He was sucking and licking. It was the most amazing feeling she had ever experienced. Deep down she knew it was wrong, but no part of her wanted to resist. All she could do was to close her eyes, and sink into the pleasure.

Victor wanted her first time to be memorable, as that may lead to other more fun experiences. There were many things he wanted to show her, but for this time, he was going to be gentle and tender. Introduce her to sex, and show her how great it can be. It wouldn't be long before she longed for more. Then he would slowly introduce other things like teasing and pain. In time, he would even teach her how to pleasure a man with her mouth.