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Libertines in the Library | Before the Auction Monday Jan 3rd.- Xmas 1677

Charles Audley

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Royal Library

  • The ceilings of the Royal Library are 15 feet high. Shelves of polished walnut climb the walls to a height of 10 feet and are filled with books. Bindings of rich brown calf are interspersed with jewel-toned volumes of red, blue and green.
    Windows set high in the walls above the shelving fill the room with light. A number of comfortable chairs in rich tobacco coloured leather are dotted about for the use of those reading for pleasure. For those who have a serious purpose, several tables and upright chairs are provided.
    Damp is the natural enemy of the book. With the palace so close to the river, the battle is waged continuously. The Library has 6 fireplaces: fires are lit every day. The size of the blaze depends on the weather.
    Mr Potts is the Keeper of the King's Books. It is rumoured that Mr Potts never sleeps and that he has forgotten his way home as a result of his devotion to his beloved volumes. Nonsense, surely, but Mr Potts does always seem to be in the Library...
    His desk, well supplied with paper, quills and ink, is situated near the main door of the library. It is here that he works on his catalogue of the King's books. He also has an excellent view of the room and the doings of those therein, as well as seeing everyone who comes and goes.
    The greatest treasure of the Library is situated by Mr Potts' desk. Held in an ever-locked case of walnut and glass, lies the Bible of King Henry VIII, who founded the English church. Bound in the finest of ruby-coloured leather, richly ornamented with gold and jewels, the book is a thing of great beauty quite apart from it's historical significance.

Charles sat in a remote corner of the library, flicking idly through a copy of Xenophon's Anabasis. Someone (he could not remember who, but he fancied it might have been Luxembourg) had recommended the story of the Ten Thousand to him when he had served with the French, but he had not had a chance to until now, despite his best efforts. It was well written, to give the old Greek his due, clean and concise in style, similar to Caesar's Commentaries. Like Caesar, Xenophon had clearly known what he was talking about too, which was not always the case with historical authors, and the soldier in Charles appreciated the little details that rang true to him.

He wore sea green justacorps, patch, cravat and stockings with mint green waistcoat and breeches. The red heels of his court shoes gleamed, freshly polished by Wodehouse that morning, and his hair hung loose about his shoulders, helping to soften the lines of his face. (Which had been sharpened somewhat by his bout with migraines at the weekend, somewhat to his displeasure. It was one thing to look striking, and quite another to look as though your face could at need be used as an axe-head.) He had scorned any other adornment, save for his pocket watch.

He was enjoying his reading, but in truth it was nothing but an excuse for his presence and something to keep him occupied while he waited.




Edited by Charles Audley
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As silently as a cat, Juliana approached the corner of the library where she and Charles had cavorted at the ball. When she saw him reading, she paused, studying him for a few moments. He looked quite dashing in sea green and she liked the way his dark hair cascaded around his shoulders. It was almost as if they had coordinated their outfits, for she was dressed in a low-cut turquoise silk gown adorned with pearls in seashell patterns. Instead of a riding crop, a mermaid mask swung from her hand, made of turquoise silk and decorated with pearls and snow white lace. She wore a necklace of pastel seashells and matching combs in her hair. Part of it had been arranged into a mass of curls and braids entwined with ribbons atop her head while the rest fell down her back in flaxen waves.


“What are you reading?” she asked casually as she approached him. “I hope you have not been waiting long.”

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Charles arched an eyebrow as he reached the aftermath of the Battle of Cunaxa and the murder of Clearchus, where the Ten Thousand had elected three generals to lead them. Carefully, he read over the passage again, and then a third time, more slowly. His Greek was far from perfect, so perhaps he had misread. But no. It seemed the Greek mercenaries had indeed held elections for their commanders.

Even leaving aside the ills of democracy, an army with more than one general is like a man with an erection — too many heads trying to do the thinking.

Charles smirked at the thought. Should the time ever come to write his own memoirs, he would have to remember that turn of phrase.

He was distracted from his self-satisfied ruminations by the arrival of Juliana.

And what a distraction she makes he thought, running an openly appreciative eye over her as she approached. Glorious.

"Not Venus today, it seems, but Thetis," he observed, grinning. He stood to draw out a chair for her.

"You have not kept me waiting," he assured her once they were both settled at the table. "As for my book, it is Xenophon's Anabasis, or the March of the Ten Thousand, if you prefer. It was recommended to me some years ago, but I have not had the opportunity to read it until now." He made a face and lowered his voice. "Thus far all I have gained from it is the realisation that my Greek is deplorable." He laughed.

Placing the book to one side,  Charles drank in Juliana's presence once again. Memories of what they done on this very table not even a week ago rose up, bring a wicked grin to his lips.

Give the servants their due, there is absolutely no sign.

"Even by your own exalted standards, you look radiant," he told her. "It is most unfair to the other ladies of court." He relaxed back in his chair and slipped his right shoe off under the table.

"Have you thought any further on plans for our little mouse?" he asked, brushing his foot off her ankle. (A delicate business, to do so without getting tangled in her skirts.)

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Juliana lifted her half-mask to her eyes when he called her Thetis. “If more notice was given, I would have commissioned a Venus mask. I brought this one along with me just in case there was a masquerade ball this season. They were held quite often around Christmas in Sweden and one always needs to be prepared for any eventuality that might occur at court.”


Charles pulled out a chair for her and she traced a long slender finger across the polished wood of the table they had shagged on as she walked toward it. Before settling upon it, though, her gaze slid over him, and an appreciative smile turned up the corners of her full lips. “You, too, look like you came from the sea.” Lifting her hand from the table, she ran the same finger down the side of his face and around the back of his neck. “Tonight, you shall be my Poseidon.”


She wrinkled her nose at the title of his book. “It sounds dreadfully boring. No matter how horrible your Greek is, it's much better than mine.” The self-styled Princess was multilingual, but the ancient languages had never seemed useful enough to bother learning.


His compliment, as always pleased her. “And you look positively majestic … a magnificent god indeed. You will drive the ladies wild and will probably bring in more donations than the other gentlemen combined. I wonder which lucky lady will win you.”


A golden eyebrow rose slightly when she felt the touch of his foot on her stockinged ankle. It was difficult to concentrate on gifts for their mouse when pleasurable little tingles were shimmering up and down her leg. “There's only two days left in the season, but if we can swing it, I'd like to do as we agreed at the ball and send her both The Decameron and a dildo. Or have you thought of something even more fitting?”


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Charles laughed at Juliana's look of distaste. "Oh, it's engaging enough. Similar in style to Caesar's Commentaries, actually, if you've ever read those. As for my Greek..." he shrugged. "My tutors assured me that one could not be accounted a proper gentleman unless one could read Greek, but even as a boy I suspected that I was being lied to. They might have had more success if they had not forced me to read Hesiod. Couldn't stand the man, or his works."

He snorted with amusement when she returned his compliment. "Possibly," he agreed with easy, lazy confidence, "or perhaps I shall scare them as much as I scare our little mouse." He turned his head to confront her with the patch and his thoroughly villainous profile. "I look like everything their mothers have ever warned them against. It shall be... interesting, to see which of them it intrigues and which of them it repels."

He met Juliana's raised eyebrow with an open, pleasant expression, but under the table his foot crept higher, stroking softly against her calf. He was in a playful mood, and eager to see how she would respond.

"That still promises to be most entertaining, and I have not thought anything better that would be practical," he agreed, smirking, "but I'll admit that what I most want is a few minute to talk to her and see if she's worth the effort of properly tormenting..." He looked at Juliana, wickedness shining out of his eye, and his voice dropped. "Or corrupting."

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“It's probably only interesting to people who are military-minded, and I'm most definitely not. I've heard of Hesiod, but have never read anything he wrote. I do love Homer, though, which I read translated into Swedish.” Juliana shrugged. “Your tutors may have been right. Many gentlemen of my acquaintance can read both Latin and Greek. In fact, that's how I knew of 'The March Of The Ten Thousand.' A former lover tried to explain it to me once. Talk about ruining the mood …” She chuckled wryly.


The princess didn't think that Charles' profile was villainous at all. But maybe that was because she'd had him completely at her mercy … and would again. And she wasn't frightened easily. “Many ladies are attracted to those men their mothers warn them about. Our mouse is obviously not one of them, but I'm sure there will be plenty at the auction who find you dangerously alluring.” Including myself.


Juliana had thought his foot would stop at her ankle but it moved to her calf. The library suddenly seemed much warmer than it had been only moments ago. She wanted to tease him in return, but then neither of them might make it to the auction. However, if he continued, she most likely wouldn't be able to help herself.


“The bookstore should have the book, but I have absolutely no idea where to buy a dildo.” Her smile was sly. “Maybe you'll get the chance to speak to her tonight if you recognize her. I would try to befriend her and introduce the two of you but she's as scared of me as she is of you.” Juliana's voice lowered as well. “So you wish to debauch her? Remember, she's the daughter of a Duke and you don't want to make a powerful enemy.”


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"You have missed nothing," Charles assured Juliana of her ignorance of Hesiod. "The man had a shockingly low opinion of women."

He arched an eyebrow and laughed as she mentioned her previous experience with the Anabasis.

"Well, as far as works for the bedchamber go, Xenophon is no Catullus," he said, wincing theatrically.

Juliana might not consider his features particularly villainous, but she was far from the sort of naive young ingenue Charles (perhaps foolishly) imagined would make up the bulk of the bidders at the auction, and those Charles did not expect to find him extraordinarily appealing, at least in that context. It mattered little to him or his image of himself in any case. He was a proud man, but this was one of several areas where that pride became arrogance verging on solipsism. It was nothing to his ego if some little rabbit, or a crowd of them, found themselves scared of the fox. (And even were his self-esteem to prove more vulnerable than he expected, it would be an easy enough wound to staunch. Juliana's company would be a wonderful tonic.)

He blinked and laughed softly at her admission.

"You know, neither do I," he said, still laughing, "but I am sure that we shall have a most entertaining time finding out." He grinned wickedly. "Do you think any of your maids might know?"

His foot slowed and stopped its stroking when Juliana asked if he intended to debauch Henrietta. He cocked his head and frowned faintly into the middle distance.

"Ormonde would make for a dangerous adversary," he agreed, voice soft, detached. He might have been commenting on a particularly bland meal. "And in truth the girl is nowhere near exceptional enough in either looks or character to justify the risk. I know all this, and yet, if the opportunity were to present itself, I cannot say I would not take it."

It was almost a sickness in him, he was willing to admit now, in this curious mood that had seized him. The need not so much to transgress as to court destruction, to laugh at the abyss and dare it to take him.

Ye Gods and little fishes, but the melodrama is sickening.

His lips curved into a rueful smile, and Charles shook himself, foot resuming its motions against Juliana's calf as his mood shifted mercurially once again.

"I am fortunate, then, that I have you to keep me on a leash, no?" he told Juliana, eye shining.

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Juliana shivered melodramatically. “Then it's a good thing that I never read him. I would have thrown the book across the room and might have broken something valuable.”


Both of them knew the power of Catullus, which he had read to her at this very table. Their passion had already been kindled, but the poetry had fanned the flames. The phony princess winked mischievously. “Your choice of reading material was much better than his. As you can imagine, our relationship did not last very long. He even made love like he was going into battle.”


Most of her lovers didn't like her talking about other men, but Charles didn't seem to mind. This was a huge point in his favor for she was not the kind of lady to be faithful to one man. She doubted that he was the monogamous type either.


His wicked grin excited her as much as his foot upon her calf. “I brought my personal maids from Sweden, so I don't think they would know. And as much fun as it would be to seek the shock on the faces of the others, I have an image to maintain. Are you acquainted with anyone who might know where to buy one?”


Juliana couldn't say she was surprised when he said he might debauch Ormonde's daughter if he got the chance. He seemed to be as drawn to danger as she. “Is that truly what you want?” she asked about being kept on a leash. “Or would you like me to remove it if the opportunity … arises?”


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"Now what exactly do you mean by that?" Charles asked, laughter bubbling in his voice. "Did he armour himself before coming to grips with you? Did he steal everything not nailed down and set fire to anything that was? Did he, ah, manoeuvre by drum beat? All of the above?" He made a face. "Or do you simply mean that he was damnably grim about the whole business?" 

He focused on the stroking of his foot against her leg, letting it inch upwards with agonising slowness. He had an impish desire to see if he could detect any sign of his ministrations upon Juliana's face. He almost missed her answer, so absorbed was he in his self-imposed challenge.

"Hmm? Ah. Unfortunate, that, for none of my acquaintances spring immediately to mind." He snorted his amusement. "Hilarious, is it not, that I would have a far better idea where to find a dildo in Paris or Venice than London?" He shook his head, considering the matter further. 

Caroline might know, if I have a chance to ask her.

"Leave it with me. Worst comes to worst, we can just send the book for now."

His nostrils flared at her question, and his lips peeled back to expose sharp, carnivore's teeth in a hungry, barely human expression. He could have been Pan from a particularly lurid fresco.

"That," he said softly," is a dangerous question for me, and in truth there is no point in my answering it. In such matters I am a creature of the moment, and any reply I might make now would change half a hundred times 'ere we part. But if you would know what my passions bid now, then..." he shrugged lazily, meeting her eyes. "I would be free of that leash."

He leaned forward.

"And I think you would have me free of it too."


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“None of the above.” Juliana grimaced. “He went about it like he was launching an attack. “If he had done any of those things you mentioned, it might have at least been entertaining. I feel sorry for his wife, having to endure that regularly.” She shrugged. “Although maybe his method is the secret to producing heirs. When I met him, he had three young sons and his wife was pregnant with their fourth.” That particular gentleman … if one could call him that … was not the father of her own son, though.


On the subject of dildos, she laughed. “And I would know just where to find them in Sweden.” She had several herself and they had all been bought at a nondescript little shop in Stockholm. Because she had wanted to choose her own and didn't want to be recognized, she had gone in disguise.


“Very well, you're in charge of finding a dildo seller.” She wagged a long slender finger in front of his face. “You must not buy one without taking me with you.” Juliana was looking forward to making him purchase it. Who knew? Maybe he would want one for himself as well, another toy to incorporate into their sexual play.


The expression that contorted his face was rather savage, and Juliana could now understand why some ladies found him frightening. She wasn't one of them; she found his ferocity arousing and her lips parted slightly as he leaned forward and told her that at least at the moment, he would be free of his leash.


She leaned forward as well, and at the same time, gave him some of his own medicine by kicking off a shoe and lifting the leg that he wasn't stroking, plopping it into his lap. “And what would you do if I released you from it?”


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"Ah." Charles winced in sympathy. "That's considerably less amusing. I suppose I should be thankful that he did not sour you on military men entirely." He smirked. "And I hope I have shown you that we are not all such artless brutes." He trailed his foot teasingly up her leg.

Charles cocked his head to one side, considering the question of dildos. A slow smile curved his lips as he tracked the wagging of Juliana's finger. The thought of her accompanying him to buy the dildo remained an arousing one. He had no doubt that she would make it an erotic experience. 

"Wouldn't dream of it." His eye shone wickedly. "We could find all sorts of interesting toys for ourselves while we're at it. Collars, for instance." He might have shivered had he known the direction of Juliana's thoughts. He had had a rather fevered dream of just that after the ball, and the thought of seeing it made real would have had his blood running even more hot than it usually did.

Charles was comfortable with the darker side of his nature, and had long made peace with the fact that most others were not. Perhaps that was why he found himself so affected by Juliana's reaction to her glimpse of it. His hands slid down to his lap to massage her foot, and he leaned even closer, growling deep in his throat.

"What any beast would do if granted freedom to sate its desires," he forced out, and kissed her hungrily.

Edited by Charles Audley
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“I tried to avoid them, but it seems that the most intriguing gentlemen have been in the military at one time or another. So, I took my frustrations out on them.” Juliana threw Charles a wicked smirk. “And instead of complaining, they begged for more.” Which she was on the verge of doing herself, for his foot was causing the most delectable sensations. A trail of fire burned up her leg and concentrated at the apex of her thighs.


Her grin broadened when he suggested that they buy toys for themselves as well as a dildo. “You must have read my mind. But no collars. Leave those to me.” She had already commissioned a set for him, as well as a leash, but they were still being constructed. If they were ready by Wednesday, she would present them to him as a promise of pleasure to come next season.


His growl made the fire within her grow hotter, enhanced by his hands caressing her foot. As his lips met hers, she moved her foot slightly and curled her toes against his groin. Juliana responded to his kiss with fervor and passion, and as she pulled away, she gently bit his lower lip, enough to cause a little pain but not to break the skin.


“As much fun as it would be allow you the freedom you crave, you must wait, my pet. You don't want to miss the auction, do you?”


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Charles answered her smirk in kind, amused wickedness dancing in his eye.

"I can well believe that," he told her. "You make begging feel very natural."

He could not but help but shiver with delight watching Juliana's grin broaden as she told him that she would look after the collars.

"As you say, Venus," he murmured, all sorts of delightful thoughts running through his mind. "But tell me then, what toys shall we purchase for ourselves, hmm?"

He arched his hips into her as they kissed. Doubtless she would be able to feel her effect on him, but that thought only made the whole thing sweeter. He growled in displeasure as she bit his lip and withdrew. Not for the nip, which he had rather enjoyed, but for the loss of her lips. 

"Hang the bloody auction," he told her. "It's a farce, a game for the frightened and the dull, that they might pretend to be free. What need have you and I for such?"

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“And you do it so naturally,” she retorted.


Juliana noted his shiver when she told him that she would take care of the collars. Anticipation was a powerful aphrodisiac. As to toys, she shrugged. “We will have to see what is available. What would you want me to use on you, if you could have anything you desired?”


She smirked, feeling the result of her foot's ministrations. The self-proclaimed princess continued to stroke him with her fluttering toes, enjoying his reaction. Though she wanted to kiss him again, she refrained for the moment, but kept her face close to his. Her body trembled at the warmth of his breath as he spoke derisively of the auction. “We don't.  You and I live by our own rules.  Yet why should we deny the pleasure of our company to those who seek it?”


Juliana winked saucily. “And don't tell me you won't like being on display.”


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"Anything I desire, hmm?" Charles asked, smiling hungrily. "A variety of restraints, of course. But if we are to stretch the bounds of our debauchery, well..." he met Juliana's eyes. "It seems to me that it would be a very great shame to visit a dildo seller and only buy one, and that for a mouse not like to know what to do with it."

It was vexing, to feel Juliana's toes pressing against his growing hardness, to have their lips so close to one another, and not do anything about either. But she had made a game of it, as she had the last time they had visited the library, and Charles felt that to kiss her would be to lose. And he had rather too much pride for that, even after admitting that he wanted her to use a dildo on him.

"Because, by and large, they are not worth it," he answered her faux-testily, looking to distract himself. "And when they are, I would still rather they have that pleasure on my terms, not theirs."

He growled deep in his throat again when Juliana winked.

My pride can go hang too.

He dipped his head to nuzzle at her throat.

"There is that. I am a shameless exhibitionist."

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Real restraints would definitely add flavor to their passion. Her scarves worked well, but he could easily get free if he wished. It seemed to Juliana that he didn't want that option. If the shop they found didn't have any, she could easily have some made during recess.” She smiled when Charles voiced his desire for a dildo, having already guessed that he might enjoy one. Some men found the notion offensive, while it excited others. “Then we shall buy at least two, maybe more,” she said, smiling slyly.


Her toes did not cease their caressing. How far could she push him this time, she wondered? She could tell he was trying to ignore the sensations she was giving him. “Some are, some aren't,” she replied with a casual shrug of her shoulders. “Sometimes you have to try them out to know. The results of the auction can still be on your own terms. You can't choose the lady who wins you but you can choose how to act toward her. You don't have to give her what she wants unless you think she's worth it.”


His control seemed to be slipping, much to Juliana's delight. She adored Charles when he was submissive, but she also adored him when he was assertive, as he had been that first night in the maze. Lifting her head, so that he had full access to her slender neck, she moaned. Her toes increased their tempo upon the bulge in his breeches. They probably had time for a quickie before the auction, though there was a chance that someone might walk in on them.


“And I wish to see you up on the stage, enticing the ladies to part with their money for a chance to spend time with you.”

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"Do you really want to see me on stage, though?" Charles asked between nuzzles, sliding a hand stroking up along Juliana's calf. "Because if you keep that up" — he arched into her foot — "I'm like to put you over my shoulder and carry you off to my rooms to ravish you."

He was not exaggerating by much, as she was doubtless able to feel through his breeches. It was a very real struggle not to do as he had just playfully suggested. In the past, he had known women (not many, but some) that had fired his passions like Juliana, but he could not recall any that had made it such a struggle to restrain them once they were woken. 

And none who made losing that struggle quite so much fun.

Breaking off his nuzzling, he sat back and growled.

"The hell with it," he forced through teeth bared in a hungry snarl. "If we are late, we are late. You've roused me, you little minx, and I mean to see you answer for it."

He leaned forward to reclaim her lips, kissing her with almost bruising force, while beneath the table his hand crept further up Juliana's leg.

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“Then should I stop?” Juliana asked coyly. Her toes stilled upon his groin, but she didn't remove her foot. She wouldn't mind at all if he threw her over his shoulder and carried her away. The sweet ache between her thighs was heightening with each stroke of his hand upon her calf. Move higher, she implored him silently.


The self-styled princess felt something for him that she could not recall experiencing for any of her former lovers. It wasn't love, but it was more then mere infatuation. He was almost identical to her in temperament and attitude, so perhaps it was simply like calling to like, an attraction that was impossible to resist. She knew instinctively that she wouldn't tire of him the way she had tired of his predecessors.


Juliana pouted when he ceased nuzzling her neck, but grinned saucily when she found out why. They had boffed before on this very table. Why should they not do so again? Her toes resumed their fluttering, “And how do you plan to that?” she purred, her lips parted seductively.


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"That is entirely your decision," Charles told Juliana, voice a warm purr. "I am merely appraising you of the consequences either way." Under the table his caressing hand crept steadily upwards. If he was to suffer, so would she. (The fact that he had started this was entirely beside the point.)

But his resolve to prolong this was a fragile thing, and it snapped abruptly under Juliana's ministrations. He stared at her for a long moment, his hand leaving her leg. He let the silence stretch a little further, kicking off his second shoe, and then stood.

"I should put you over my knee, but I fear this is not an appropriate setting to give you the proper treatment," he growled. "I shall have to settle for bending you over the table for now."

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“The consequences will be the same no matter what I do.” Was that philosophy? With Charles' hand moving steadily higher on her leg, it was hard to tell. Juliana wasn't feeling philosophical at the moment; she was feeling ecstatic and looking forward to the pleasure to come. She had not come to the library for a tryst, but now that she thought about it, it was already inevitable. The two of them never could keep their hands off each other … or in this case, their feet.


The way he stared at her sent lovely little shivers rippling down her spine, and when he stood and looked down at her, claiming that he should spank her, she grinned wickedly. “Then I shall remind you of that promise later.” Juliana remained seated. She was not going to make this easy for him, no matter how much she wanted the same thing. “Are you sure you're up to the challenge? I am quite willful, you know.” Baring her teeth, she added: “And I bite.”


(OOC:  Feel free to wrestle her to the table or anywhere else you'd like.  She won't really bite  - unless you want her to. 😉)

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Charles matched Juliana's grin, lustful flames blazing in the solitary sapphire of his eye. "Clearly I have allowed you far too much license, if you feel able to cheek me so." He stepped behind her and bent to place his lips next to her ear.

"Because, my little wanton..." he breathed out, "I bite too." He nipped firmly at the lobe of her ear to illustrate the point. Juliana had long shown herself not to be made of glass, and Charles, frankly, was too far gone for gentleness. His blood was a howling torrent of fire, and the need to feel Juliana against him was all-consuming.

He pinioned her wrists in one hand and drew her up to her feet in a sudden movement, shoving her chair aside with his free hand. He tarried for a moment, pressing his hips against her backside and kissing and nipping at the join of her neck and shoulder, before pushing her forward and down over the table, sliding a knee between her legs to urge her thighs apart.

"Much better, no?" he asked laughingly, hand busily first hiking her skirts up, and then unlacing his breeches to draw out his cock. (Both proving to be more complicated procedures than he might have imagined.) "I rather like you like this, at least." His fingers probed at the juncture of her thighs to make sure she was ready and he growled amusedly.

"Wanton indeed," he teased, and thrust into her, hard and fast. The table had proven it could take it, after all, and so had she.

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So now their roles were reversed. Like her, Charles seemed to like playing both sides of the coin when it came to dominance and submission. Juliana smirked insolently. There was at least one difference in their preferences. While he liked to portray a humble slave worshiping his goddess, she preferred to be defiant and impertinent, making her master work for his satisfaction.


She stubbornly remained seated as he moved behind her, but was unable to keep from shivering at the the warm whisper of his breath in her ear. The bite was totally unexpected and she jumped slightly. The keen ache between her thighs was becoming insistent and quite excruciating … yet oh so so exciting.


Before she could leap from her chair and make him chase her, Charles grasped her wrists and yanked her to her feet. His grip was strong, and though she struggled, she could not break fee. Her wrists stung but the pain was welcome and arousing, an awareness completely at odds with the bliss she felt when he pressed his hardness against her. Her inner muscles contracted in anticipation. More sultry moans followed the kisses and nips he bestowed upon her neck and shoulders.


Suddenly, Juliana found herself bent over the table, her breasts flat against its polished wooden surface. She struggled playfully as he nudged her legs apart, but she had no intention of actually breaking free. Charles had her at his mercy, and she was enjoying it inordinately.


“No, it's not,” she snapped, playing her role to perfection. He pulled up her skirts and the cool breeze on her arse provoked a burst of wetness between her thighs. She couldn't see what he was doing but she could guess. Imagining that glorious cock of his waiting to plunge into her inflamed her further. “Of course you do,” she remarked, her voice a bit breathless. “You can do anything you want with me now and I am helpless to stop you.”


It wasn't his cock but his finger that she felt between her legs. Juliana gasped and her backside bucked upward, which gave him the perfect angle to drive into her, stretching her internally and probing against her back walls with each powerful thrust. He was not being easy on her, but she liked it hard and fast and Charles seemed to know exactly how to please her most.


It wasn't long before ecstasy enthralled her, washing over her in wave after wave of intense pleasure. It was more extreme because she couldn't move, able to do nothing but enjoy the sensations that careened through her. Juliana cried out, too consumed by passion to care whether anyone heard or not. Though she wished she could feel like this forever, her rapture began to subside.


Would he release her now?


Did she even want him to?


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Charles withdrew from Juliana as she reached her peak. He was dangerously close to climax himself, and it was no part of his plans to spill so early. It was a struggle. He had not lied when he had said that he liked her this way. Juliana was always beautiful, but like this she was a breathtakingly erotic vision.

"Such a loud little wanton," he scolded teasingly, swatting at Juliana's arse (purely to admire the resultant jiggle). "And after all your protestations, too." His fingers returned to the juncture of her thighs, teasing at sensitive flesh. "These lips are far more honest, I think."

He ground against her for a few moments, fingers still playing, and then bent to whisper in her ear.

"Shall we play a game? A simple one, I promise." He sheathed himself in her again. "I'll keep fucking you as long as you stay silent. But the first hint of a noise, I stop, and we find another way to keep you quiet, hmm?"

He started to move with deep, steady thrusts, setting a slower pace this time, all the better to draw things out. If they were late for the Auction then so be it.

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Juliana didn't even feel him withdraw from her, but she noticed the emptiness inside her as her climax began to fade. Had Charles rode the waves of pleasure with her, or had he yet to reach completion? With her cheek pressed against the table, she couldn't tell. Most likely not, from the way he teased her.


Had she been loud? She couldn't remember making any noise at all, but it was certainly possible. The self-proclaimed princess was not shy at letting her lovers know how much she enjoyed their sensual ministrations. It wasn't unusual for her to scream in ecstasy.


Charles swatted her arse, and she yelped.  Her hips writhed upon the table. Now Juliana wished that she had brought along her riding crop so that he could use it on her. “You didn't like it?” she asked with a defiant smirk. “Good!”


She might have said more if she had not felt his fingers sliding over her pearl. Again, she gasped, and desire came flooding back, stronger than it had been before. By the feel of his hardness against her bum, she suspected he had held back and was prolonging his pleasure.


And then he was inside her again, suggesting that he would only fuck her as long as she remained silent. A saucy retort formed on her lips but she forced it back and simply nodded, agreeing to his terms. He begin to thrust within her with rhythmic slowness. Each time he hit her back walls, her excitement grew, and she tried her best to be quiet.  Though she was curious as to how Charles planned on silencing her if she did cry out, she decided not to push him.  There would be other occasions for that and tonight they both had an auction to attend.


Now she just wanted to reach the crescendo of pleasure again ... this time, with him.


(OOC:  Shall we begin wrapping this up?  More mischief awaits them next season..😉)


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Charles laughed at Juliana's yelp and spanked her arse again, just for devilment.

"We are in a library. Contain yourself," he chided mockingly, hand caressing at the sweetly rounded cheek he had just slapped. Admiring the lewd posture he had placed her in, Charles could not help but grind himself against her upraised backside, his fingers sliding down to play teasingly with her pearl. 

"For all your bravado, you're positively dripping," he growled amusedly. "Is it truly so hard for you to admit that you enjoy being at my mercy like this? Your contrariness does you no credit, I fear."

Entering her again, Charles nodded approvingly as Juliana made no noise in response to his proposed game.

"Good girl," he murmured in her ear, fingers circling her pearl in reward. "See how much more pleasant this all is when you behave yourself?"

For all his intentions of drawing this out, Charles found it difficult to stick to his plans when he was inside Juliana. His pace increased steadily, and the only sounds he could hear were the thunder of his pulse and the harsh rasp of his breathing. It did not seem all that long to him before he felt his climax rush towards him. His caresses grew faster too, as he sought to drag Juliana over the edge with him. He clung on for several moments before hilting himself in her and groaning softly as he reached completion.

He withdrew from her and took a last moment to admire her splayed over the table before stepping back and releasing her wrists.

"Oh, you are beautiful like this my little wanton," he told her. "And I wish I had the time to tend to you properly. But we had best stop if you still wish to attend the Auction."


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The second time Charles smacked her bum, Juliana restrained herself and remained silent. The attention he paid to her pearl made it immensely difficult to keep quiet and she had to bite her own lip to keep from moaning. The pain increased her ardor, and again, she reprimanded herself for leaving her riding crop at home.


His whisper in her ear was like a sweet caress. He was right, though she would never admit it. She liked being at his mercy as much as he liked being at hers. Juliana continued to squirm as his fingers tormented her sensitive little pearl and when he drove into her, her hips rose and fell in rhythm to his thrusts. Even pinned down as she was, she could feel when he was close to climax and as he plunged deeply into her, pleasure overcame her again. She bit her lip harder to keep from crying out.


She felt him pull out of her this time, and though he released her wrists, which chafed from his grasp, Juliana did not get up immediately. So breathless that colorful little dots swam in front of her eyes, she thought it best not to rise until she regained her composure. Charles could admire her for a moment longer if he wished.


And he did. His words were like music to her ears and she looked forward to a future encounter when he could properly chastise her in her own residence where they would have all the time in the world.


Bracing her palms upon the table, she lifted herself up and slid to her feet in one smooth movement. It would be clear that she had been in that position before. After smoothing down her skirts and adjusting her bodice, she turned around and wrapped her arms around Charles' neck. “Are you ready for the auction now?” she asked him, kissing him lightly. “I hope that you are sufficiently sated so that you will not drool all over the lady who wins you.”


Pulling away, she smiled saucily. “I suppose this is farewell until the new season begins. I will have a gift for you, and until we meet again, you can wonder what it is. Perhaps by then, you will have found a place to buy a couple of dildos and other toys to enhance our pleasure.”


With a playful tug on his cravat, she turned away and strolled out of the room. She needed to find a mirror to make sure that her hair was not out of place before she went to the drawing room.


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"A gift?" Charles asked, grinning. "Now you've made me curious. I'm almost tempted to keep you here and see if I can tease an answer out of you." He ran his fingers gently along the line of Juliana's throat and jaw. "But I suppose I can be patient until the spring."

He gave a mock huff as she played with his cravat.

"Minx," he called softly after her. "I'll add that to the list of things I have to call you to account for."

He watched her leave before readjusting his cravat, whistling softly to himself.

I suppose I had best attend the damn auction. It might even be amusing.

Mind made up, Charles took a moment to right their chairs and then left the library, still whistling.


(Et fin. Thanks!)

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