Indecent: 15 Erotic Victorian Romance Story Box Set (24 page)

Chapter 2

For the next eighteen years, Olivia was a victim of systemic
treachery and deception. She was farmed off to a workhouse three miles off and
joined other juveniles under the supervision of a buxom female who took
sevenpence per head per week alongside her secondary occupation of giving head
for sevenpence per client to those of the parish who felt the need.

She knew what was best for the children and appropriated
their money alongside her own, not wanting to inconvenience them with too much
sustenance lest they get an unfair expectation of the goodness that might be
found in the world.

Olivia turned eighteen a pale and thin girl, short in
stature and shorter still in circumference. Her spirit was firm as may be
attributed the fact that she reached her eighteenth birthday at all. She spent
it in the coal cellar with two gentlemen who had been locked in for having the
audacity to be hungry.

“I will die of thirst before the night is out,” ventured
one, whose name was Finn.

“To die without feeling the touch of another would be the
most painful thing of all,” added the other, given the soubriquet Jones.

“Perhaps you could assist us with both our needs,” Finn
said, turning to Olivia.

“I know not what you could mean for I have no drink to
furnish you with,” she replied.

“I believe you have,” said Jones. “I believe you could
furnish us both with a drink if we correctly handle the tap so to speak.”

“Is this a riddle of some kind?” she asked, speaking back as
the two gentlemen approached her in the gloom. Stumbling over the coal she fell
to her knees and that was the moment they chose to reveal the feast they had
planned for her, pulling down their workhouse trousers to expose their hardened
foodstuffs of choice.

“Do you wish me to dine on these?” Olivia asked.

“That we do and then we both will gain our drink,” replied
Finn.

Olivia took one cock into her mouth and the other in her
hand as the men stood over her, enjoying their first encounter with the
opposite sex. For her part, Olivia felt the taste of their heat was most
pleasurable, moving from one to the other like the starving waif she was.
Eventually the men grew too close to climax, lifting her and stripping her
clothes before she could protest, not that she wished to.

Finn knelt before her and lapped at her wetness, gulping
down the fluid that formed whilst his companion brought her nipples to a
stiffness she had never felt before. In the darkness she could see little of
either man but she could at least feel a tongue deep inside her which was soon
replaced by a burning hot member.

Trapped between the two men, she felt the second shaft
sliding between her buttocks, the lubrication of her own saliva assisting its
passage into her posterior, stretching and filling her in such a manner that
every nerve ending fired joy through her.

Thrust back and forth between the two of them, it was all
she could do to remain on her feet as two pairs of hands slid over her naked
body, finding her hardened nub, the core of her pleasure, and manipulating it
continually until she tensed up, her fists clenched, as she reached the first,
but by no means the last, orgasm of her poverty stricken existence. As she came
she let out a gasp, a tongue entering her mouth, the cock in her posterior
juddering inside her as Finn reached his own climax, spurting deep inside her.
She had barely time to feel it deep in her bottom when the cock the other side
of her reached its own orgasm, spraying cum into her pussy a second later.

Whilst the three prisoners continued to pass the time in the
coal cellar, Mrs Mann, lady of the house, was startled by the sight of Mr
Bummer undoing her garden gate.

“Is that you Mr Bummer sir?” she asked, thrusting her head
out fo the window. “Susan, take Olivia, Finn and Jones and wash the coal from
them directly.”

Mr Bummer kicked open the gate and walked in. “It was locked
on the inside,” he announced. “Is this how you keep parish officers awaiting?
Now lead the way in for I have business to attend to.”

Mrs Mann ushered the beadle into her parlour, took his cane
and his hat whilst he wiped his forehead. “Will you take a drop of something Mr
Bummer?”

“Not a drop,” he replied.

“I think you will,” she said. “A drop of something with a
little water and sugar.

“What is it?”

“It’s gin, Mr B. It’s gin.”

He took a proffered glass, stirred in the water and drank
down the contents. “Now I have a drink for you,” he replied, standing boldly
before the fire.

“Oh yes?” Mrs Mann replied. “Is it a fluid I’ve imbibed
before?”

“That it is,” he said, undoing the buttons on the front of
his trousers to reveal the organ that produced the beverage he wished to bestow
upon her. Mrs Mann sank to her knees and took hold of him as he stiffened
before her.

“I would love a tipple from this dispenser,” she said, taking
him into her mouth and flicking her tongue over the engorged head until it
began to drip as it was wont to do when handled in such a manner. She licked
away each drop that formed before moving her mouth faster and deeper, drawing
him into her throat until he grunted with pleasure and provided her with an
equal measure to the gin he had been given but in much hotter and stickier
form.

“I thank you for your drink,” Mrs Mann said, wiping the
corner of her mouth as the beadle dressed himself once more.

“And I yours madam,” he replied. “Now to business. You have
a girl baptised Olivia Twist who is eighteen today.”

“Bless her,” interposed Mrs Mann, dabbing her eye with her
apron.

“And not withstanding a reward of twenty pounds, we have
never discovered her father.”

“Then how did she come to have a name at all?”

“I invented it.”

“You sir?”

“I, Mrs Mann. We name our paupers in order. The last was S,
Sexy, this was T, Twist. The next will be Underwear. I have names for all the
alphabet. Now take me to the girl.”

“I’ll fetch her directly.” Mrs Mann left the room and found
Olivia naked in the washroom with Susie still sponging the coal dust and
encrusted cum from her body. “Quickly now,” Mrs Mann said, taking over with the
sponge. As she slid the soapy water over Olivia’s body, she found herself
dwelling on the swell of Olivia’s breasts, circling her nipples which stiffened
under the attention of the nurse. Mrs Mann moved the sponge down between
Olivia’s legs and scrubbed so vigorously the girl could not resist letting out
a sigh, spreading her legs a little wider and bending her knees just so.

Mrs Mann continued to rub even as the sponge fell from her
hands. Susie assisted in cleaning, rubbing the engorged clit of the inmate. “I
must clean the inside of you as well to be sure,” said Mrs Mann, sliding two
fingers into Olivia who only stood in silence as her body began to burn with
heat despite the cold air around her. Mrs Mann continued to slide back and
forth inside her whilst announcing, “A final taste test of your cleanliness I
believe will suffice.” She leaned forward and replaced Susie’s fingers with her
own tongue, lapping around Olivia’s clit until the girl reached a shuddering
climax of some magnitude.

Satisfied at last, Mrs Mann dressed Olivia and brought her through
to the beadle. “Bow to the gentleman Olivia.”

Olivia made a bow as best she could, her body still tingling
with pleasure.

“Will you go with me?” asked Mr Bummer.

Olivia was about to undress, making assumptions as to the
reason for the question, when she glanced across to Mrs Mann who shook her head
vehemently.

“I will,” she said, bursting into tears at the thought of
leaving the workhouse behind.

Mr Bummer led her through the streets from the workhouse to
the whorehouse, taking her into a large room where eight or ten gentlemen sat
around a table. At the top of the table was gentleman with a round red face.

“Bow to the board,” said Bummer.

Olivia saw no board but the table so bowed to that.

“What’s your name girl?” said the man in the high chair.

“Olivia Twist sir.”

“You know you’re an orphan I suppose?”

“What’s that sir?”

“The girl’s a fool,” said one of the men around the table.

“Hush!” replied the chair of the board. “You know you’ve no
mother or father and that the parish brought you up.”

“Yes sir,” said Olivia, beginning to weep.

“What are you crying for?” said one man.

“I hope you say your prayers every night?” said another.

“Yes sir.”

“You have come here to be educated in the ways of whores and
taught a trade.”

In unison the men stood up to reveal not one of them wore
anything below the waist, their legs bare, their cocks proudly pointing into
the air. “You begin tomorrow with tasting cum at six in the morning but for now
you must demonstrate your current level of knowledge of such things. Begin at
once Olivia Twist.”

Olivia was knelt down by the beadle before he stood back,
the men standing in a long line as if queuing for their dinner. But was it not
Olivia who was to be fed and not them? She bore in mind her encounter with the
gentlemen in the coal cellar and made use of the technique she had found so
effective with them as the first of the board slid himself into her mouth. He
tasted warm and slightly salty and stretched her jaw to fit him in. Olivia
sucked hard as his shaft as he ran his hands through her hair. From the corner
of her eye she could see the others surrounding her until her vision was
entirely taken up by cocks as if they made up the entirety of the world.

As she brought the first man to orgasm, she felt a heat
within her loins but dared not touch herself, not knowing the etiquette at such
a meeting. She felt him shake his member in her mouth, a spray of cum coating
her tongue which she barely had time to swallow before the second man was
inside her.

He did not last long, barely thirty seconds had passed
before his cum hit the back of her throat. The others seemed to grow impatient,
hands slid along shafts and she felt a sudden spray of spunk splash onto her
face, followed by another load in her hair. She had another cock in her mouth a
moment later as one splash after another of the salty liquid coated her face.

She blinked away the fluid as the last of the men came on
her, spunk dripping from her chin to her chest as she wiped her eyes and licked
her lips before being lifted to her feet. “Take her away Mr Bummer,” the chair
of the board said. “She will do well here I believe.”

Olivia bowed to the board and was then hurried away to a
long ward where she fell asleep with the cum drying on her face, awakening the
next morning to begin life in the whorehouse. For the next six months Olivia
took in little food and large cocks, the payment for her services rendered to
the board to be spent on gruel for the inmates with the balance kept on account
by their own good natures.

The room in which the whores were fed was a large stone hall
which also served as their workplace. A copper pot at one end provided the food
and a door at the other admitted the clients. Olivia and her companions grew so
voracious with hunger that one girl suggested one night that unless she
received more food than cum soon, she might take upon herself to eat the girl
who slept next to her.

With a wild eye Olivia moved beds so that evening the girl,
named Smith, awoke and slid under Olivia’s thin blanket. “I must eat,” she
said, her eyes wild.

“So must I,” replied Olivia, twisting as her name suggested
until her face was between the legs of her companion. “I will devour you,” she
added, planting a kiss on Smith’s protruding lips before sliding slowly between
them, finding the hole wet and ready and plunging into it. Whilst this was
taking place, her companion did the same to Olivia, the pair eating their fill
of each other until they reached the most satisfying climaxes, even as their
stomachs continued to growl for more.

A council was at last held and lots were cast to see who
should ask for more. Olivia won, or lost depending on your perspective. On the
evening in question the master stood at the copper, his assistants beside him
handing out the gruel.

Olivia was nudged and prodded as they ate far less than
their fill until she at last stood up and advanced to the master. “Please sir,
I want some more.”

The master was fat and healthy but turned very pale. “What!”
he said at length.

“Please sir. I want some more.”

The master pushed Olivia to her knees. “All the men of the
whorehouse are to be brought here this instant.”

He pulled out his cock as his assistants did the same.
“You’ll get more all right,” he scowled, pushing himself into Olivia’s mouth.
He thrust fast and hard in her, holding her head still until she gasped for
air, feeling his cum run down the back of her throat. His assistants soon
copied his example and poor Olivia could only catch a breath as best she could,
more and more cocks thrust towards her face. Someone bent her over and slid
into her pussy and she let the cock in her mouth fall out to utter, “Please
sir, I want some more.” A finger slid into her bottom as she tasted one man
after another until she felt quite full with their liquid but they did not stop
there, coming on her and in her to a man until not one pair of balls in the
entire whorehouse was undrained. Only then was the beadle called for, Olivia
still on her knees, her entire body and face coated in thick cum which ran down
her as she shivered in place, her stomach engorged with the first full meal she
had received in this establishment or any other.

Mr Bummer ordered her into confinement for her audacity and
the next morning a bill was pasted on the whorehouse gate offering five pounds
and a round of anal sex to anybody who would take Olivia Twist off the hands of
the parish.