A Tale of Victorian Debauchery 1

Lord Richard Barrington III was growing more surly and discontent every day. Since the death of his wife Rowena last year he had spent his days carrying out his duty in the House of Lords and his nights in the various bawdy houses of Cheapside. If he wasn’t busy gambling away his deceased wife’s sizable inheritance he was burying his prick in one or two of the harlots or even a dandy from time to time. This was quickly becoming tiresome for him and he longed for the days of having a warm cunny at home to use at his whim and indiscretion. Not that his late wife Rowena had a particular warm cunny or disposition, but she was his and he didn’t have to pay her. He had never been particularly inclined to the idea of marriage until he was introduced to Rowena who was an heiress to an estate much larger than his own. She had been enamored with his rakish good looks and charm, and they were married within a fortnight.

The problem with Lord Barrington was his unique and limitless sexual desires. Some have even said that his sexual proclivities are what led to the death of his young, beautiful wife Rowena. She had a timid demeanor and had always been prone to bouts of melancholia after he visited her bedchamber, but she usually recovered after a couple of days. That was until the day she came home early from afternoon tea at The Strand to find the Lord copulating with one of the kitchen maids and a footman in their marriage bed. Lord Barrington, who always tried to be attentive to his dear Rowena’s needs, had simply invited her to join in the festivities when she ran from the room and threw herself from the stairs in a fit of despair.

Lord Barrington did not grieve for his young wife very long. He found this to be an incredibly well timed turn of events as he had already squandered the sizable inheritance from his father on a series of bad debts and expensive mistresses. Within a week he was out celebrating his newfound freedoms and wealth, but no matter how much money he spent or how many people he rutted with he still could not find what he was searching for. There was an emptiness and need inside him that he could not fill. That was until the day he met Miss Eliza Turner.

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Miss Eliza Turner had not had an easy life, orphaned while she was still in the cradle, she had spent her childhood being shuffled around orphanages and girls homes throughout London. As soon as she turned eighteen she found herself being tossed out of Mrs. Chatterly’s home for wayward girls onto the streets of London. Well really she only had herself to blame for that. Miss Chatterly had been kind enough to keep her on as a kitchen maid after she had come of age. That was until she was caught lifting her skirts for the cook’s son out by the wood pile. The repercussions of the incident were not worth the little pleasure she had received from coupling with the inexperience lad as he roughly rutted into her with his small prick. She regretted it now as she was standing on the corner trying to sell posies for enough money to keep food in her belly, and pay for a bed in a run down rooming house in Cheapside.

Truth be told though she would have made the same mistake again if given the chance. Eliza was a bit of a different creature than most other ladies. Her every thought and desire was driven by her needy quim. This all started after arriving at Mrs. Chatterly’s and being introduced to her new roommate Beth. Beth was several years her senior and quite a little minx. They spent many a long night engaged in petting and licking each others tight quims until they fell into and exhausted slumber. Unfortunately Beth had found herself pregnant with the footman’s babe and was thrown out of Mrs. Chatterly’s a month before Eliza’s own departure.

Eliza now spent her lonely nights in the rooming house petting and playing with her cunny, fantasizing about Beths angelic mouth and nimble fingers. She had taken to using candles and carrots to stroke the itch deep within her quim, but it was never the same. She had considered taking up work in one of the bawdy houses, but was too afraid of being roughed up by a patron or becoming pregnant.

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It had been a most trying day in Parliament and Lord Barrington was in need of several wet, warm cunts to release his frustrations upon. Feeling particularly unsettled this afternoon he had directed his carriage driver to let him off a few blocks away from his favorite bawdy house so he could walk the rest of the way. He ambled leisurely down the sidewalk avoiding the various peddlers and three pence whores, until he came upon a most angelic creature selling posies. Her soft blonde ringlets, large doll shaped blue eyes and rosy cheeks captivated him immediately. She could have been confused for a china doll if not for her tattered, dirty frock.

“Sell you a posy for a pence Sir. Sure to put a smile on your lady’s face,” she said holding her basket out for his inspection.

Lord Barrington stooped down from his impressive height to peer into the basket but quickly averted his gaze to meet Eliza’s bright blue eyes.

“I’m sorry to say that I do not have a lady to take it home to, but how about I give you a shilling to come to my carriage for a moment,” he said flashing his dazzling grin.

Eliza hesitated for a moment before responding, a shilling would pay her room and board for a week and ease the constant rumbling in her stomach, but the risk was just too great.

“I’m sorry Sir, I must decline. I am not a harlot.”

“I apologize Miss. I was so enchanted by by beauty that I lost my manners. Let me introduce myself, Lord Richard Barrington III, It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am sure your parents are very proud of such a darling daughter.”

Eliza’s eyes lit up and her little cupid mouth turned up into a smile, “Thank you Sir, but I have no parents. My name is Eliza Turner.”

“Ah well then I am sure your guardian or husband is much pleased. I tell you what, I am in need of a new house maid. Would you be interested in working for me?”

“I’ve no husband or guardian sir. I take care of myself just fine,” Eliza replied with a grin as she twirled her basket.

Lord Barrington’s eyes lit up at the revelation of this sweet, little waif being completely unattached. “No guardian, what a shame. Well in that case, I have been looking for a ward and I think you will do just wonderfully. How would you like to come and live in my nice townhouse on the Strand with me. I will buy you some new dresses, and we can groom you into a fine young lady.”

Eliza bit her lip and looked into his dazzling green eyes, as he held out his hand to her.

“What do you say little one? Come with me and I promise to make your life pleasurable,” he purred in a low timbre that sent a shiver straight to her cunny. She nodded her head and took his hand as he led her across the street to his carriage.

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Eliza studied the Lord as the carriage trundled across the rough and dirty streets of Cheapside. He was a handsome man, well dressed and roughly twenty years her senior. He had broad shoulders and long legs making him an imposing figure in the small cab of the carriage. His deep emerald eyes met her gaze and he smiled.

“So tell me how does such an angelic young lady find herself all alone in Cheapside?”

Eliza averted her gaze into her lap before replying, “I was orphaned as a babe. I was living at Mrs. Chatterly’s and working in the kitchen until a month ago when she threw me out.”

“That’s terrible why would she throw such a fine young lady like yourself out into the street?”

Eliza bit her lip and looked out the carriage window, trying to avoid his intense gaze as a tear rolled down her cheek. Lord Richard leaned forward and took her delicate hands in his, “Come now little one. I don’t want you keeping any secrets from me.”

Eliza’s cheeks where flushed bright red with shame and she choked back a sob before replying, “I got caught out by the woodpile with the cook’s son.”

“Hmmm, I see.