The Education of Victoria (19 page)

‘Oh, please, sir. You wouldn’t take my possessions.’

‘Nothing is yours. It all belongs to the courts. It’ll be gone by nightfall.’ I collapsed onto the bed in shock.

‘What will I be left with?’

‘Nothing I should think. Your father’s creditors are owed thousands of pounds.’

I felt as if I was bound in cords by the courts. I had no freedom, no control over what was happening to me. Only one course seemed to remain. I took hold of the hem of my skirt and pulled it and my petticoat up to my waist. I revealed myself to the bailiff.

‘Is there nothing that will delay you?’ I asked.

He looked at me and a grin spread across his face.

‘You’ve lost everything so you might as well lose your honour,’ he said, removing his hat and coat, and beginning to undo the buttons of his trousers. He advanced towards me. I shuffled back onto the bed, pulling my skirt and petticoats up to my waist. I opened my legs and raised my knees. He crawled on to the bed between my legs with his erect penis poking out of his trousers.

‘You’re a right temptress, aren’t you, my lady,’ he said as he crawled over me. His hot breath brushed my cheek and his cock rubbed against my fanny.

‘Guide it in,’ he ordered. I reached between my legs, took hold of his penis and placed it between my lips. He pushed and the tip slipped into my vagina. He sighed. He thrust again and I felt the cock sliding deep inside me. He lowered his head.

‘Kiss me, darling.’ I didn’t want to but his tongue found its way between my lips and I tasted its foul flavour. He began to thrust repeatedly.

‘Come on, love. Match me.’ He held my arms against the bed and grunted on each inward thrust. He came with a gasp and I felt a gush of semen within me. He dropped onto me, his weight pressing me into the bed and stifling my breath. I struggled to breathe and beat against his shoulders. He heaved himself off.

‘Careful, lady. You don’t want to upset me now, do you?’ He stood up and rearranged his dress. ‘To show you how much I care, I will put off my return until tomorrow. I am sure you will be able to entertain me then. Good day.’

He left and I listened as he went down the stairs, walked along the hall and pulled the front door closed behind him. I stood up and brushed my skirt and petticoats down. I was disgusted with myself but thankful that I had bought a day’s grace. But what could I do? I hurried to my father’s study and pulled drawers and cupboards open. Paper after paper spilled out, letters, invoices, nothing that meant anything to me. I was in despair when the front door bell rang again.

I opened the door but an inch and peered around it. I was fearful that the bailiff had returned despite his promise. Instead a slim, smart, young man in a new overcoat was standing on the step with a cane and top hat.

‘Hello. Miss Victoria, is it? My condolences regarding your father’s untimely death.’ He doffed his hat and I saw that he had short, dark hair slicked down and pale features.

‘Who are you?’ I asked.

‘Ah, pardon me.’ He presented a card and said, ‘Samuel Blenkinsop of Blenkinsop, Blenkinsop and Blenkinsop, Solicitors. I’m the last one by the way; my father and grandfather are the others. We are the executors of your father’s estate.’ The card confirmed what he said so I opened the door. He stepped into the hall.

‘Executors?’

‘Yes, we represented your father while he was alive, and we shall handle matters now that he is dead. May we talk?’ I took him into my father’s study. Papers were strewn over the floor and other surfaces.

‘I’ve been trying to find out what happened but I don’t understand it.’ He sat in a chair while I grabbed handfuls of papers and dropped them again.

‘Ah, I’m afraid your father’s business dealings suffered a great misfortune in recent months. Well, he lost a fortune and left a lot of debts. There is not going to be anything left in his will for you once our bill has been paid.’

I told him about the coal man and the bailiff demanding payment.

‘I’m afraid there will be a lot of that.’

‘But I can’t service them all,’ I cried.

‘Service them?’

I described how I had gotten a bag of coal from the coal man and put the bailiff off for a day.

‘You would sell your body for a bag of coal?’ There was a look of amazement on his face.

‘Not my body,’ I replied, ‘my skills, my knowledge, my experience. Just like you I suppose with your knowledge of law and wills and I don’t know what.’

He laughed. ‘Well I suppose you’re right. We each have our expertise. What do you want me to do?’

‘Help me. Save what you can of my father’s estate. I suppose the Berkshire house is gone as well. Leave me enough to set up on my own.’

‘And how will you pay?’

I turned away from him, knelt and pulled my skirts and petticoats up. I presented my bare arse and fanny to him.

‘This is all I have to offer,’ I said, my head resting on the carpet.

Perhaps it was the sight of the white heart of my buttocks, or the pink orchid of my sex. Or possibly it was the faint musky odour that rose from my exposed fanny. From being starchy and distant he became inflamed by animal passions. I looked over my shoulder to see him throwing his coat off, and fumbling with the buttons of his trousers. He thrust his trousers and drawers down below his knees and knelt behind me. His penis was already proudly erect and his commendable testicles dangled between his legs. I turned my head away and awaited the touch of his cock against my quim. His cool hands rested on my buttocks and then I felt his cock, not against my fanny but pressing against the tight puckered hole of my anus. A few months earlier I would have recoiled from this indignity and not believed that a fully erect penis could enter my rear passage, but the last term at the Venus School for Young Ladies had taught me differently. I used my newly developed skill to relax my muscles and so when he applied pressure his knob slid inside me. He let out a long drawn-out sigh as he pushed in further. When he could penetrate no more he paused. I felt as though my abdomen was full, that I was forever rendered immobile by his spike, like a butterfly pinned to a display box. Then he began to pump me. Each thrust was accompanied by an insult, ‘you slut’, ‘whore’, ‘common hussy’. I took each name and accepted it, for they were indeed true. After innumerable advances and retreats, when I felt that my whole arse was afire, he came and filled me with his semen. When he withdrew it trickled down my thigh.

He remained kneeling, breathing heavily. I got up and let my skirt and petticoat fall, restoring my decency to some extent. I collected a bowl of water and a cloth and, kneeling before him, washed his shrunken penis.

‘I’ll do what I can, Victoria, but it is not going to be easy. Your father’s affairs are in disarray.’ He re-fastened his trousers and replaced his coat and hat. ‘I will call again soon.’

Christmas was a lonely and dismal affair. Samuel was, however, as good as his word and ensured that I had sufficient fuel to fire the kitchen range, and food enough for my needs. I moved a small mattress and blankets into the kitchen and lived there, spending my time looking through father’s papers and trying to make sense of his business dealings, with little success. The bailiff did not return but Samuel did on a number of occasions. Each time he came I offered him my body and each time he took advantage of the availability of my rear orifice. On one occasion early in the new year we were lying on my improvised bed in the kitchen and I was caressing his erect manhood prior to intercourse. I asked a question which had been troubling me.

‘Why, when I offer you my mouth and my vagina, do you always choose to sodomize me?’

He turned a little red in the cheeks and there was a pause before he answered.

‘My father expects me to marry soon. I would not want the scandal of making you, one of my clients, with child.’

I sensed that was not his whole answer. I stared at him and after a few moments’ thought, he went on.

‘Also, I like the constriction one feels when one enters an arse.’

‘You have experienced others similarly, then.’

‘Yes,’ he said almost inaudibly, ‘at school and university I have been both the active and the passive partner. But please do not speak of it again. My father must never know of my predilection for a tight anus.’

I chuckled, ‘I don’t think I am in a position to tell tales, Samuel. Come, your cock is ready for the game, fill my arse again.’

I really do feel that despite my apparent subservience to his desires I gained some kind of authority over Samuel Blenkinsop. He became most solicitous about my health and well-being. However, despite his efforts in warding off the creditors and bailiffs nothing could prevent the ultimate forfeit of all my father’s possessions. I discovered that the London house had been mortgaged and many of the furnishings already sold to service his debts. Our Berkshire estate would also be broken up. In a few weeks it would all be in the hands of other owners and I would be homeless and penniless. I had to decide what to do and my only thought was to get away. There was only one other place that was anything like a home and that was the Venus School for Young Ladies. I determined to return for the spring term. My fine dresses and jewellery were sold and together with the remaining cash from my summer occupation, I bought my passage to the Austrian mountains.

Chapter 18
Victoria’s Term of Servitude

I trudged up the mountain track, my feet sinking into the snowdrifts with a biting easterly wind cutting through my thin woollen coat. The Venus School for Young Ladies could just be seen above through the veils of snow ahead of me. I had used the last of my money in getting to the village and I had nothing left to pay for a sleigh to carry me up to the door of the school in style. However, I did not have a trunk full of luggage to accompany me; I carried just a small cardboard suitcase packed with a few skirts, petticoats and blouses.

With the final light of day fading I came at last to the main entrance to the school and tugged on the bell pull. After a short delay, Eric opened the door. He looked at me for moments before recognising me.

‘Victoria, what has become of you?’ He opened the door wide, and invited me into the hall. I shook snow from my coat and shoes. Madame Thackeray emerged from her study bedroom.

‘Who was that at the door … oh. Hello, Victoria. We weren’t expecting you. You had better come into my office.’ I put my case down and Eric made to pick it up.

‘Leave that, Eric,’ Madame commanded. ‘Victoria will not be staying in her accustomed room.’ Madame returned to her study and I followed. She sat at her desk leaving me standing in front of her. With the warmth of her log fire the snow and ice in my clothes began to melt and drip onto the carpet.

‘What are you doing here, Victoria?’ Madame asked.

‘I have come for the next term, Madame.’

‘But your father has not paid your fees to my agent in England.’

‘My father is dead, Madame,’ I said, noting that a look of sympathy passed briefly across Madame’s face to be replaced by the stern visage that I found unfamiliar.

‘I am sorry, Victoria. You must be sad. But who will now pay your bill?’

‘No one, Madame. My father’s money is all gone and I have no one else.’

‘But you cannot be a pupil here without paying. We are a school not a poorhouse. You will have to leave.’

‘I have nowhere else to go, Madame.’ Tears welled in my eyes and I began to sob.

‘Stop your snivelling, girl.’ She passed me a handkerchief. ‘You know we don’t suffer that kind of weakness here. We teach you to be strong, independent women.’

I blew my nose and dabbed at my eyes. ‘I know, Madame, I have tried. I’ve dealt with coalmen and bailiffs and solicitors but I have nothing. I couldn’t think what else to do but come here.’ There was silence for a few minutes while Madame looked at me, searched my face for the truth of what I said and contemplated. When she spoke again her voice was softer.

‘You have obviously had a trying time, Victoria, and it would be hard of me to send you back out into the snow to perish in the cold. I will see what I can do to find you a position suited to your skills and talents, and in the meantime you can be my maid.’

Her words cheered me. ‘Oh thank you, Madame. I will serve you with all my energy.’

‘There is a problem, however,’ she mused, ‘we don’t have any rooms for maids.’ Indeed the men carried out all the tasks around the house under the supervision of Madame Hulot. There were no maids. ‘But, there may be a solution.’ Madame rose from her seat and walked around her bed to the far end of the room. There was a door which she opened to reveal a small room, a box room, barely more than a cupboard. It was cluttered with trunks, packing cases and other items of luggage.

‘This could be cleared and a bed made up for you. It has the advantage of being close to me if I should have need of you. There, that’s decided.’

‘Thank you, Madame.’

‘That is all right, Victoria, but I want you to remember that you are no longer a pupil here so you must not talk to the girls, and nor must you treat the men as your servants.’

‘No, Madame.’

‘Good. Now collect your case and start clearing out that room.’

The little room that was to become my home was soon empty. It was bare of furniture and as it had no fire of its own I relied on the little heat that spread from Madame’s study for warmth. Still, with a mattress and blankets, I expected to be comfortable enough.

Having warmed up a little I stripped off my wet clothes and was hanging them to dry when Madame called for me.

‘I shall be retiring shortly, Victoria. Your first task will be to warm my bed.’

I looked around for a warming pan but could see nothing that would suffice.

‘With what shall I warm your bed, Madame?’

‘Why, yourself, of course. Take your clothes off and get under the covers. I will be back shortly.’ She left the room and I hurried to remove my remaining underclothes. I slid under the bedclothes, feeling comfortable for the first time in many days.

I was actually asleep when Madame returned.

‘Wake up, girl. Help me undress.’ I stirred and slipped naked from the bed. I assisted Madame in removing her silk dress and petticoats and then unlaced her corset. Soon she was naked too. She went to the bed and I began to move towards my little room.

‘Where are you going, Victoria?’

‘I was going to bed, Madame,’ I replied.

‘I did not dismiss you.’

I hung my head, ‘No, Madame.’

‘Then come here. I need some warming.’ She lifted the covers and I slipped into the bed beside her. She pulled me to her so my head rested against her firm breasts. I lay still as I was unsure of what Madame required of me.

‘Your body is comforting,’ she said quietly, ‘but my hand needs warming.’ She pressed a hand between my legs. Her fingers pulled at my lips until they could slip inside. I spread my legs a little.

‘Not too wide. I want to feel the warmth of your thighs on my hand,’ she whispered. Her fingers dug further, pushing into my crack. Her thumb found my clitoris and made me gasp. Her fingers were inside me now digging deeper and deeper. She pushed and twisted her hand until her fist was within me. No cock was ever as thick as a balled fist but Madame ensured that I stretched to accommodate her. I felt as if my womb was full and that I was the dummy which she controlled. With her hand motionless inside me she leaned forward and took a nipple in her lips. It was erect because my whole body felt charged with electricity. She played with the engorged nipple with her tongue and closed her teeth on it. I cried and she released my breast but rammed her hand up my vagina hard. I gasped.

‘Keep quiet, girl,’ she hissed. She took hold of my other nipple in her teeth and bit hard. I struggled to keep silent, clenching my teeth.

‘Yes, I see our arrangement is not without its benefits,’ Madame whispered in my ear. She pulled her hand from my fanny. ‘Go down on me, now.’

I slid down the bed beneath the suffocating covers. She parted her thighs and I crawled between them. A hot and strong sexual odour emanated from her fanny. I extended my head and pressed my nose between her lips. I pushed my tongue into her crack and lapped up the juices. Now it was her turn to moan. She tossed her head from side to side as I worked on her, forcing my face harder against her quim so that I could reach further into her hole with my tongue. Then I moved up and grasped her long clitoris in my lips and began to suck and play with it with my tongue. She thrashed around, sometimes grasping my head with her thighs, sometimes opening her legs as wide as she could, pushing me away while gripping my head in her hands and urging me on. Through it all I kept my grip on her knob until her orgasm began to subside. Finally she released my head.

‘You can go now,’ she whispered. I crawled out from the covers and went to my own bed to fall into a deep sleep.

The following days fell into some kind of routine. I rarely left Madame’s study but waited on her, helped her dress and undress and warmed her bed. Many nights she demanded that I pleasure her and I soon found the moves that brought her to a satisfactory climax in the minimum length of time. I was disappointed that I did not see my former school friends. Madame Thackeray forbade me from mixing with them in the drawing room or going upstairs to their rooms. One evening, however, she sent me to the kitchen to collect a cup of hot chocolate. As I passed the stairs, my friend Natalie was descending with the other girls. They were dressed in black corsets, stockings and ankle boots and obviously on their way to a session in the cellar with Madame Hulot. When Natalie saw me she ran to me and flung her arms around me. The other girls clustered around us.

‘Oh, Victoria, how wonderful to see you. How are you?’

‘Shh,’ I said, ‘Madame Thackeray must not hear us talking.’

‘She said that we mustn’t speak to you,’ Natalie whispered. ‘She said that your father is dead and that you have lost your fortune.’

‘That is so and it is why I am reduced to being Madame’s maid.’

‘But I miss you, Victoria. I miss our kisses and the touch of your hands on my body. I miss you when Madame Hulot is instructing us.’

I nodded in agreement. ‘I know. What are you doing this evening?’

‘How to stop a man getting an erection,’ Freya said.

‘How strange,’ I commented, ‘why should you want to do that?’

‘Apparently Madame has some instruments which perform the task,’ Natalie explained.

‘Come on. We’re going to be late,’ Bertha said, urging the other girls towards the door to the cellar stairs.

‘We must find a time to meet and talk,’ Natalie called out as she was dragged away.

‘Yes, we must,’ I replied, suddenly very sad that I was not part of the group any more.

They disappeared in a huddle through the narrow door and I continued to the kitchen. Johann was stoking the range. Blond and well-muscled, he was the quietest of the menservants.

‘What do you want?’ he asked.

‘I’ve come for Madame Thackeray’s hot chocolate.’

He nodded to the jug on the hotplate. ‘Don’t you want something too?’ he asked, standing up straight and coming towards me. I poured the hot liquid into the cup waiting on the kitchen table.

‘What do you mean?’ I asked.

‘Shut in that room. You haven’t had it for weeks, have you?’

‘Haven’t had what?’

‘This.’ He pulled his erect cock out of his flies and stepped closer to me.

‘Perhaps I don’t want it,’ I offered. He grabbed my arm.

‘You didn’t used to say that. You’re not one of the fancy girls now. You don’t decide any more.’ He pushed me back against the kitchen table, tipping me so that I fell onto my back. He shoved my legs apart and pushed my skirt up to my waist. He grabbed my thighs and pulled me towards the edge of the table, towards his arrow-like cock. I struggled to push myself up on my elbows.

‘Why are you doing this, Johann? You have endless opportunities to fuck the girls. Why force me to have intercourse with you?’

‘Because I can. You’re nothing now. You have no wealth. If you don’t do what we say Madame will throw you out.’ His manhood was at the entrance of my sex, forcing the doors and barging into the corridor.

‘So this is about control, is it? You think you can control me because I’m just a servant now.’

‘You’re not even a servant. You’re Madame’s slave. She only keeps you so that she can have her way with you. If you stop satisfying her you’ll be out and done with.’ He gripped my buttocks and rammed his penis into me hard. I gasped as he pierced me, but forced myself into a sitting position.

‘So what about the girls who stroke you, suck you and open their legs for you. What are they?’

‘Sluts, devil women, whores of hell.’ For a quiet man he suddenly had a lot to say. I felt his penis thrusting deep inside me.

‘And what does that make you?’

‘Damned. Damned. Damned.’ On each word he thrust in and on the last I felt him come, semen filling my womb. He withdrew and sank to the floor sobbing. I slid off the table, smoothed my skirt down and picked up the cup of chocolate. I stepped over him and left the kitchen. I felt a trickle running down my leg.

The next morning, Madame brought me an envelope. On the outside it said simply ‘Victoria’. I tore it open and read the letter inside. There was just one line that read ‘I am sorry’ and it was signed Johann.

‘What is it?’ Madame asked. ‘Who is sending you letters?’

‘It is from Johann, Madame.’

‘Johann. He has disappeared. Eric says he walked out late last night and has not returned. What have you had to do with him?’

I cried and sank to the floor. Bit by bit I explained how he had raped me and called all the women dreadful names; how he despised us and himself.

‘He always was the quiet one,’ Madame mused. ‘Well, he’s gone and we will have to replace him. What it does show is that you must not speak to the men. You must stay in here unless you are accompanying me or Madame Hulot.’

‘Yes, Madame.’

My service, or slavery as Johann had called it, became something like a gaol sentence as I was not permitted to leave the room or speak to anyone other than the principal or her deputy. However, I could see no alternative. I had no money to travel anywhere or to provide the essentials for life so I threw myself into my tasks. I served Madame and pleasured her whenever she required it. I came to know every part of her body, where she liked to be caressed, the time to spend sucking on her nipples, the pressure to apply when licking around her arsehole, the precise spot in her vagina where a finger could bring her to orgasm. Often she would strap on a dildo and pump me until we both achieved a climax. Satisfying her needs became the meaning of my existence.

On a few occasions I was not required while Madame Thackeray spent the evening with Madame Hulot. I thought they were talking school business but Madame Thackeray returned flushed and her hair untidy. She did not partake of my services for a few days afterwards. Later I found marks on Madame’s body as if she herself had felt the weight of someone’s hand, but she never spoke of it and I refrained from mentioning it.

One afternoon in early March, Madame said she had business to attend to and that I was to stay in my little room and close the door. I did as she said but some time later I heard cries coming from the study. I pressed my ear to the door to hear well. There was the swoosh as a cane or crop sped through the air, the crack of the implement on flesh and the cry of the victim. Madame was punishing someone. I opened the door a crack and peered through. It was Lydia, my former room-mate, bent over the elephant stool. Good, I thought, she was often insolent and deserved to be taught a lesson of contrition. The beating stopped and now I watched as Madame Thackeray, herself naked, caressed Lydia’s fundament. I felt strange. Of course, Madame always followed the pain of punishment with pleasure. I realised that I knew what was going to happen next and the acid bile of jealousy filled me. When Madame picked Lydia up from the stool and laid her on the bed and began to kiss and caress her small, childlike body, fury grew in me until I could stay behind the door no longer.