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Lady Emily's Guardian

Part 17

Mr. Singer


I had deceived my Emily. I felt guilty for it, long after the deed was done, but I never stopped believing that the ends justified the means. For though she grieved the loss of her friend, I did know that Beatrices leaving was for the best. I had made it happen.


While Emily bathed in our suite, I had left the baby girls to Rebeccas care and had gone to Beatrice alone. I had found her sobbing on her bed. The sight of her crying annoyed me to no end, but I merely sat beside her and waited for her to speak. She had finally turned to me slowly, sniffling pathetically. “You dont love me, Aaron?” she asked.


I sighed impatiently and stood. “What do you wish for me to say, Beatrice? Yes, I love you, I love you very much. Damn you.”


A hint of a smile played on her lips, even as they trembled. “But you will never love me as you love Lady Emily?”


“Of course not,” I said, and her little smile disappeared. “You are a foolish girl, Beatrice. Ive never said or done anything to make you believe differently. Youve known the truth all along.”


She covered her face with her hands. “Im so ashamed, Aaron! Im humiliated!” She sobbed more, and I did pity her then. Her reputation was in ruins, and she had resorted to living the life of a slave, in a desperate bid to stay with me. Even after all shed done, I pitied her.


I proposed that she should go. “I wanted to keep you with us so that you would know your child,” I said. “You do not wish to know her, anyway.”


“I dont deserve her.”


I waved my hand impatiently. There was no talking her out of her twisted logic. “I feel that it is no use, Beatrice. Some part of you refuses to allow you to be happy with us. And to be perfectly frank, I do not want your poor spirits to affect my wife. Her happiness, her well-being, has always been my top priority. She will be upset to lose you, certainly, but in time, it will be the best thing, for her sake. And for yours as well.” I did not add that it would be the best for me; while I had not quite forgiven her betrayal (and I never would), I had had her for so long. And I never did stop loving her, or wondering about her when she had left us.


She cried, but did not beg me to allow her to stay. She accepted my offer of money. “I will bring my wife in to speak with you on the subject,” I said. “This conversation that weve just had is between us…you will tell her that you want to go, that it was your decision, do you understand?”


Beatrice readily agreed. I felt that Emily would be angry with me if she knew the truth, and for a very long time, I kept it from her. Beatrice played her part well, and when I took Emily back to our bedroom for the night, I knew she had believed it all. I didnt want any more lies or deception between us, but…this was for the best. I knew it.


After Beatrice departed, Emily did not enjoy her time in St. Tropez as much. So we cut our vacation short and went home again. On the train from London, I took her hand as she stared vacantly out of the window. I whispered in her ear, “I did not show you the message that Tatiana left for us in London. She is quite eager to have us in her home upon our return.”


Emily turned to me in surprise. “She knows what has happened, sir?”


I nodded. “I wrote and told her everything. Rest assured, darling, our friend doesnt lay any of the blame on you.”


She smiled a little at that. I knew that this would not relieve all of her troubles, but knowing that her oldest, dearest friend (besides myself) was still on her side helped her mood, and she was quite cheerful by the time we arrived at our station. Her mood was further lifted when, upon alighting from the train, we were approached by some old acquaintances. Emily had not spoken with any of our neighbors since her return from her wild adventures, and I knew that she was worried that her reputation was in ruins as well.


But these neighbors, conservative as they were, greeted her warmly. “Its so good to see you again, Lady Emily,” Mrs. Winthrop, a relation of the Gainsleys, said, most sincerely. “You look very well. And your girls are quite adorable.”


Just like that, my dear little Lady Emily was back in the center of society in our little corner of the world. She and I would marvel at it in private, how quickly she had been embraced again. “Well, my dear, consider: youre very wealthy, and titled, and youre just as pretty as you ever were.”


Though she flushed, she said in disappointment, “Thats true.”


“But youre also a lovely person,” I added sincerely, kissing her softly. “Youre wonderful and kindly…you know how your charity work has continued, even in your absence. Why shouldnt everyone adore you? Youve done nothing to earn their derision.”


Emily took comfort in my reasoning, and she enjoyed attending parties by my side that season. I was tempted to be selective about which invitations to accept, but being around others distracted her. It also gave her the chance to become reacquainted with Alfonso Beaumont, and surprisingly, widowed Mary Steepleton, who had taken her big, black driver on as her lover after her husbands passing. We had some times with them, and I began to feel like the wild social life that Id briefly dreamed of in Barcelona would still be a reality.


Certainly there were rumors about Emily, about her mysterious time away and about the two baby girls, but over time, everyone pretended that the babies were twins, not noting that their birthdays were several months apart, and the other rumors simply faded away. Things really can go back to the way they were, I thought to myself one cool evening, about a month before Christmas (our first Christmas as a family again). But things had changed, to be sure, and some of the changes were much easier to cope with than others.



Emily recovered quickly from giving birth to pretty little Charlotte, and was as hearty and energetic as ever as winter approached. One afternoon, after the first snow of the season had prevented me from going to the office, my wife and I were alone in my study. The fire roared, filling the otherwise dark room with a warm glow as my naked wife straddled me. Having kept on some of her extra pregnancy weight, her little body had tightened considerably, but shed still left me plenty extra to grab around her waist.


I was naked as well; wed been lounging about that afternoon, enjoying one last day with Rebecca before she left us for an extended holiday. As much fun as shed been having with us (though shed been often neglected since wed lost Beatrice), she desired to see her family in the Highlands, and Emily, of course, did not refuse her. The little babies would be our sole responsibility until after the new year, and such a handful those little darlings were. We would not have the chance to play all day like that while our nanny was away.


That afternoon, we took our time in our playing. I kissed Emilys soft neck slowly, caressing the back of her ear with my tongue, groping her tits as she shuddered. I felt her getting wet against me, soaking wet, and she let out a tiny moan, “Oh, please, sir…”


I nibbled on her earlobe. “Patience, whore. Tell me, darling, would you like to host a little Christmas party for our friends?”


My wife eyed me curiously. “A Christmas party, sir?” We had not hosted any parties since her arrival home. The last party at Wainwright Hall had been for the Sheltons wedding.


“Nothing too extravagant,” I said. I smiled at her teasingly. “Just for our very close friends.”


Emily giggled and knew exactly what I intended. Though I had been tempted to guard her close after all of our time apart, we could not resist playing our games with others. And we had so many friends now to play with. “Who will we invite, sir?”


“You know,” I said. “Our dear friends the Sheltons…”


“And Joseph as well, sir?” She still enjoyed spending time with her lover, and he (along with his brother and sister-in-law) was a frequent guest in our home.


“Of course, my silly thing,” I said affectionately. “And Mrs. Steepleton, and our dear Alfonso…”


“Oh, sir, we have not introduced Joseph and Alfonso yet,” Emily observed, and I grinned, knowing what my nasty little wife had planned for her friends.


“No, we have not,” I agreed, and added, “Mrs. Steepleton told me that her husbands niece will be coming to visit her for the holidays. You must remember our old friends the Santoses, from Barcelona?”


Emily blushed then; any mention of that disastrous trip to Spain distressed her. I forced a smile and said, “Sra. Santos speaks most fondly of you, my dear, and is very eager to be reacquainted.” Emily said nothing to this. “Well, my dear? Would you like to have a little party? It is up to you…”


“Yes, sir,” she finally said. She wrapped her arms around my neck and hugged me in gratitude. “I think it will be a lot of fun. Thank you, sir.”


“It will be fun, my dear,” I agreed, squeezing her. “It will be a very happy Christmas indeed.”


We had our own little pre-holiday fun that afternoon, and I thoroughly enjoyed my wifes tits (even with two babies to feed, she still had plenty of milk left over for me) as she ground her pussy against me, in a slow rhythm to accompany my gentle suckling. I wanted to properly enjoy her milk, the sweet nectar that sustained the girls and sustained me, and I took my time. As much as she enjoyed allowing me to drink from her, I knew it was tormenting (and part of the reason why I was not hasty).


When I detached myself from her sweet, hard nipple and kissed her softly, she pulled away and moaned in my ear, “Oh, sir, please let me…”


“Hush, now,” I teased, and to further her delicious impatience I had her go to her knees to please me first. She smiled up at me, though she trembled in her longing, for I knew she longed to please me even more. My dearest Emily, the most unselfish lover Id ever had, my precious little slave.


She did not rush to please me, but took her time, running her tongue slowly along the underside of my shaft as I moaned. I held the back of her head, but allowed her to maneuver freely, worshiping me slowly, planting sweet kisses along my sensitive hard member before taking me fully down her throat. My hand tightened in her hair, but I still did not rush her as I panted, my toes curling as she slowly drew her mouth away, never quite removing me, slowly swirling the tip of my cock with her tongue before it went plunging down her throat again.


After several minutes, I could stand no more of her torment. “You teasing little whore, Emily…” I moaned as she took me fully again, and gave my sensitive testicles (which shed been stroking slowly, in rhythm with her sucking) a gentle squeeze, and…well, my wife has never failed to please me, and I daresay that I had never filled her stomach with so much cum in her life. Now shed had her nectar, her sustenance.


I could not stop myself from grinning at her as she cleaned me. Having done her duty, she looked up at me eagerly, waiting for me to give my orders. How could I resist touching her face softly, my pretty little Emily? Still as fresh and sweet at 30 as shed been at 18. I told her this, and she flushed prettily, giggling softly, though not quite believing me.


“And I,” I joked, “I grow older by the minute.”


“You do, sir,” she agreed, rising to her knees. I bent and allowed her to kiss me. She wrapped her arms around my neck. “Older and more handsome, my dear sir.”


“You are desperate to come, arent you, my little slut?” I teased, and she laughed gaily, and I knew she spoke the truth, at least in her view. I was always handsome, and getting older was not easy for me, for I could see my looks deteriorating…and with them, I was afraid, my charm. My dear little wife, always adoring me, kept up my confidence, so convinced was she that I became a better man in every way, all the time. I certainly tried to, for her sake.


I pulled her to my lap and finally allowed her to ride me (for how could I not grow hard again, with my darling Emily, huge lactating tits and all, on her knees before me?), even holding out so she could come several times before I filled her. I buried my face in her neck, tasting her sweat, teasing her sensitive places again. Still holding me inside of her, she shuddered, very sensitive from her rapid orgasms. I knew she was exhausted, and normally I would not push her limits so, but I felt as energetic that afternoon as I had when we were first wed, and Emily was very quickly riding me again, and coming over and over until it was sweet torment for her.


Lying with her on the floor in front of the fire, holding her naked, exhausted body close as we enjoyed the afterglow, was the sweetest part of all. As we both faced the fire, I was surprised when Emily turned to me with tears in her eyes. But she was smiling. “Oh, sir,” she said, “I really am so glad to be home. You do make me so happy, and I…thank you, sir.”


I wiped her tears, almost frowning, not certain how to express my thoughts. What could I say? How could I tell her what I hadnt already said, that she was my everything and that I could never do for her all the good she did for me, it was quite impossible, and I could not understand how she could love me and need me so…


But those troubling thoughts, which had bothered me especially in our extended absence, flinted away. I kissed her and said, “Youre welcome.”


Emily was quite busy with the three girls after Rebecca left us for the holidays, and I was kept away from home in the office, working with Shelton to contact our clients before taking a break for a few weeks. We had all come up with a plan for our holiday. A week prior to Christmas, we would send Mina and Alice (who was home from the boarding school that Emily had selected and paid for) out to stay with the other Shelton children. All of them were older than Mina, but my wife figured that she would enjoy herself more in their company than with the little babies and the adults.


“Mina is a good helper with the babies, to be sure, but she is restless,” my wife observed as we changed the nappies of the little girls one evening. “And the rest of us would join them after the party, right before Christmas…do you think that plan is viable, sir?”


My wifes planning and reasoning all made perfect sense, but I was surprised that she would propose to send our daughter away, even for so short a time. She smiled at this and answered, “She will be going away to school in only a few months, sir. Dont you think it is important that we encourage her independence?”


Independence. Throughout Emilys childhood, I, as her guardian, had done my best to encourage certain values in her. Patience, sympathy, respect, kindliness. Certainly I had neglected to foster her independence, to a large extent. I wondered if I had done so, if I had allowed her to go off to school and to have her own life outside of Wainwright Hall, away from me, would we have ever become lovers? Would we have married? It is not a topic that Emily and I had ever discussed, for I believe we both felt that the outcome of such a discussion would not be pleasant. I suppose you might say, it is what it is. Emily never went off to school; she became my wife. There isnt really any way to prove or disprove the cause-and-effect relationship there.


It pleased me that Emily saw such a different future for our daughter, for reasons that I cannot readily explain. Perhaps she was proving my theory, that though Mina was such a different person from her, she would appreciate and love her regardless…or rather, because of it. Mina craved independence, and Emily was willing to allow it to her. Mina saw this in her mother, how her mother loved and appreciated her, and she came to love her more than she ever loved me. That seemed right; I wanted it to be so.


On the night of our little party, the only children in the house would be our little girls, and young Joseph. Our dear Tatiana would provide the services of her nanny, so all was settled on that front. Our other servants were staying on until the day after the party, so all would be prepared for an impressive feast, after which they would clean up and be off to their own quarters before the real party began. My Emily was excited for our little orgy, and she saw to all of the details the same way she would have for her annual spring party for the neighbors. She made sure that there were enough chairs, restraints, pillows, flogging devices, toys, and plenty of firewood and alcohol in the parlor. She fretted over what she would wear (for she would be clothed for the first part of the evening, at least), and eagerly sought my approval for a very low-cut dark-blue gown.


“I was going to wait until Christmas,” I said, going to my wardrobe, “But I have just the thing to go with that gown.” I removed a gift box (one of several filled with jewelry, all for my darling for Christmas) and presented her with a new collar. I had not collared her since wed reunited, but she was eager to have me put the dark blue collar around her neck. The lining was very soft and the texture was very fine and smooth. The thin silver buckle sat at her throat like a fine choker. I tenderly stroked and kissed the soft white skin around the collar, and my wife sighed.


“Oh, sir, this collar is so lovely,” she said. “Will you allow me to wear it for you all the time?”


My dear little wife always knew the right things to say to please me. She thanked me properly, wearing that gown and her new collar, and she was very careful as she sucked and cleaned me. Of course, on the night of the party, she would take off the dress while we all played together.


On the afternoon of the party, Tatiana, her baby, and the nanny arrived early to set the children up in the nursery and to talk with my wife. I left the ladies to their gossiping and saw to the dinner preparations before preparing to take a bath. Just as I was thinking that it would be nice to have my wife there to bathe with me, she appeared in our bathroom, wearing nothing but her new collar, which she slipped off before climbing into the warm water with me and allowing me to bathe her.


“Tatiana is in her old room in the east wing, preparing for the party,” my wife reported as I washed her small white neck. She giggled. “She does have some naughty surprises for her brother-in-law this evening.”


“Im sure that she does,” I said with a laugh. I had recently spoken with Shelton and his brother about their activities at home. Wild Tatiana, who had once declared that she would never be fully tame, had enjoyed some wild times with Joseph. I had heard tell of a strap-on phallus, which Tatiana would sport while fucking Joseph in his ass. Fascinating. I hoped that she had brought it along for the party (and I was not disappointed).


My wife and I did not play during our bath, wanting to save our energy for our friends that evening. I did tease her a little, tickling her sensitive clit while I bathed her huge tits. They were bigger than theyd ever been, and I imagined that her efficient little body, knowing how many hungry mouths depended on her milk, was producing more than ever to meet the demand. My obsession with my wife has fueled in me an interest in the female body, all of its little complications and nuances, how everything works (and for the most part, knowledge has been power, as knowing all about my wife allowed me to please her thoroughly…or to torment her lovingly). I never grew bored with my little wife…on the contrary, I marveled to learn new things about her, about her body and her mind and her heart, every since day.


I learned a little about her that night during our party. After dressing each other, I left my wife alone to finish preparing herself. “I will meet Tatiana and will see to our guests,” I said. “Take your time; see to the girls, if you must.” Emily already planned on taking a break after supper and feeding the little girls (Tatiana joining her to feed young Joseph), but I knew she would want to see to their care before allowing herself to be a carefree little hostess.


By the time Emily joined us in the parlor, the Shelton brothers had arrived, and drinks were already flowing. My partner, enamored with my wife since hed first met her (and who could blame him?), quickly stood and offered her a drink, and she responded that she would retrieve it herself as she affectionately touched his cheek. I was correct when Id predicted that theyd enjoy being playmates, and I had enjoyed watching her please him (especially since it meant returning the favor, after using his wife so often).


The maid announced Alfonso, Mrs. Steepleton, and Sra. Santos, and my wife hurried to greet them all as they came through the door. Her uneasiness about seeing Sra. Santos again seemed to have completely vanished as she greeted her friend with a kiss on the cheek. “It is so wonderful to see you again,” she said sincerely.


“My husband and I were so relieved to hear that you were well!” Sra. Santos replied. I remembered, with some mortification, how the police had questioned the Santoses about the whole ordeal in Barcelona. But they had been most gracious and sympathetic, and had seen to me several times during my stay there.


“And where is your husband?” Emily asked, leading Sra. Santos to a seat near me (I stood to greet her warmly).


“He had to stay on at home. Business,” she said with a roll of her eyes, knowing that it was untrue, and caring very little. They had not changed, it seemed.


Emily set about introducing Alfonso and Mrs. Steepleton, as well as Sra. Santos, to Joseph. The shy young man had not attended any parties since hed arrived, only staying in his brothers home or coming to Wainwright Hall, or going to his siblings home outside of London (where we would be spending our holiday). His bashfulness surprised me, as hed had many “friends” and acquaintances in San Francisco, but he explained that hed acquired these out of necessity. He was really quite introverted.


Well, my Emily was determined to help him break out of his shell, and she eagerly introduced him to Alfonso. The big black driver, who had known my wifes ass quite well many times, had only a few traces of grey in his short-cropped black hair to betray his age; otherwise, he had the face and build of a very young man. He was now dressed in a fine suit, purchased by his wealthy lover, and seemed perfectly at his ease in our crowd (though Mrs. Steepleton would not dream of bringing him as her escort to any of the more conservative social events).


As big as Alfonso was, Joseph had a build to rival his. As they got to talking, my wife caught my eye, and I knew what she wanted to happen. I found myself eager to see the two men have at each other…but our real fun would wait until after dinner.


The drinks poured freely, and Emily and Tatiana served as the little bartenders. My wife and I had agreed that we would have fun that night, let loose, though the two nursing mothers did nothing more than drink a bit of wine (with pregnant Tatiana hardly partaking) as the rest of us became quite drunk before dinner. Still, Emilys face bore a healthy flush as I escorted her into the dining hall. One gentleman for each lady, though we certainly wouldnt be pairing off in quite that way during our after dinner playtime.


Already a bit tipsy, I kissed my wifes neck softly before helping her into her seat. “Might we skip our dinner and go straight to dessert, hostess?” I whispered teasingly.


“Oh, do sit down, sir,” she scolded me with a smile, and I sat at the head of the table, with my wife by my side, as our friends took their seats. We ate to our fill, the food sobering us up a little (though we continued to drink throughout the meal). At one point, I unsteadily stood and proposed a toast to my wife.


“I feel comfortable telling you all here, that this little woman is the best thing that I have in my life. She has brought us all here together this evening, to celebrate the love and friendship that she provides. I am very grateful to have her home.” I looked down at her, and she up at me, with tears in her eyes as she touched the fine buckle of her collar. “To Lady Emily.”


“To Lady Emily!” the guests declared heartily, and she flushed as they drank to her health.


After dinner, we decided to forego dessert until the games had started. Emily and Tatiana departed upstairs to nurse, and though I would have wished to join them, I accompanied the rest of the party back to the parlor, for cigars and more drinks, and to begin some of our playing.


Emily and Tatiana laughed heartily upon their return to the parlor to already see Alfonso and Joseph having their fun. The rest of us watched as Joseph went down on Alfonso, sucking his huge cock expertly, and I could tell that Alfonso was impressed with his skills as Id been. When my wife sat beside me, I prompted her to begin removing her dress. She stood, and said to Sra. Santos, “I was very proud of myself, that I was able to fit back into the corset that you got for me in Barcelona.” And so she was wearing that same red corset, which I had not seen since that horrible night (for she had disappeared while still wearing it!).


Emily flushed as she saw the look of appreciation on Sra. Santoss face, and the look of shock on mine. She wore this, and her collar, as she coaxed the red-haired lady into allowing her to lick her pussy for my enjoyment. Tatiana, always wanting to be the center of attention in such situations, offered to suck my cock, and so I received my pleasure as well. Undoubtedly, Mrs. Steepleton and Shelton began playing together; all were active throughout the course of the party games.


Our activities were not limited to the parlor that night. Drunk, laughing, high on orgasms, we went through the house, playing in different rooms. I took Alfonso and Shelton to see the portrait of Emily that Joseph had painted, in one of the spare rooms (my wife accompanied us, of course, for she was never far from my side through that whole night). Shelton nodded appreciatively. “One of Joes best, I daresay, though the one hes working on for Tatiana could give it a run for its money.”


“I would love to see that!” Emily declared.


“If I were bold, I would hang it in front room for all to see,” Shelton said. “I know my wife would love that. But it will have to go in the bedroom.”


“I wanted to hang this in our bedchamber,” I said, “but humble little Emily wouldnt have that.”


My wife flushed. “Would you want to see yourself, staring at you, while playing bed, sir?”


“Better that than a picture of your mother,” Alfonso joked, and we laughed at that. While in that spare room, Emily removed her corset (and would be naked for the remainder of the party) and had all three of us on the small bed, taking Alfonsos huge black cock in her ass while sucking Sheltons cock. While I fucked her cunt, I teased her.


“Emily, youre looking at yourself, but you cant see it with all of this flesh surrounding you. Yes, three big sweaty men to fuck you, what a dream come true for a tiny whore.” Emily muffled a weak protest around Sheltons cock, and we all laughed at her and pounded into her, managing to come in short succession. My poor wife was gagging down Sheltons huge load while dripping from both of her holes, and she gave us all a weak, watery-eyed smile, kneeling on the bed as we all stood and loomed over her.


“Sir, youre cruel, quite cruel,” she said, the smile never fading from her lips or eyes.


“And you love it, dont you, whore?” I demanded. She held up her arms for an embrace, and I held her while our friends started from the room. I kissed my wife and picked her up, carrying her easily back down to the parlor to join the rest of our friends. We still had plenty more playtime ahead of us.


Tatiana did not disappoint me that evening. For not only had she brought her own strap-on phallus, but she had also brought a new one, as a Christmas gift for my Emily. “Fit it around your waist, dear, and let the phallus dangle,” a naked Tatiana demonstrated for her. Mrs. Steepleton, though used to her lovers huge black cock, was fascinated by the device. Emily, wearing her strap-on, swung her hips and let the phallus swing, and she giggled. I couldnt help smiling.


“Mary,” I suggested, “Perhaps youd like Lady Emily to try her new toy out on you?”


Mrs. Steepleton eagerly bent over the edge of one of the side tables, and Emily, with me standing close by, fucked her in her ass. My wife was hesitant at first, thrusting awkwardly, but her whorish friend encouraged her to pound harder. “Come, Lady Emily, you know how hard Alfonso can fuck…oh, come, Lady Emily, fuck me hard!”


My wife eventually got into a rhythm with her thrusts, and grinned, perhaps reminded of when shed raped Lydias virgin ass in San Francisco. As Emily fucked her, she was fingering Mrs. Steepletons clit, and successfully made the lady come.  When she pulled out and stepped away, I replaced my wife and she stood by, hands on hips, shit-covered phallus still dangling, and watched.


Meanwhile, Tatiana had started to make use of the restraints. She had tied her brother-in-law to the back of a chair, and he straddled the seat of it awkwardly as she fucked him with her own strap-on, jerking him off as she pounded expertly. When he tilted his head back, moaning, it was clear that he had been blindfolded. After filling Mrs. Steepletons ass, I sought a blindfold for my Emily, removing her strap-on and forcing her to her knees.


I motioned to Tatiana, who was spent from fucking Joseph. She sat on the couch, her legs spread, and I took my wife by the collar and guided her between Tatianas legs. I tied her hands behind her back before I allowed her to begin pleasuring her friend. I watched the girls together (though my attention was briefly caught by the sight of Sra. Santos beating her naked aunt with one of the riding crops). When Emily had made her friend come, and had cleaned her as lovingly as a mother cat cleaning her kittens, Tatiana said, “Well, Lady Emily, you know that your husband will not allow me to return the favor. But what I can do to please you, my friend?”


Blindfolded, lightly bound Emily made a surprising request of her pregnant friend (for Tatiana was quite large in her nakedness, only a couple of months from giving birth to her second child). “May I drink of you?” she asked shyly, flushing slightly.


Tatiana looked at me in surprise, and I could not suppress a grin. My dear little Emily had never had a womans milk before, never, I realized. Oh, she did not know…she could not possibly imagine how lovely it tasted. Tatiana, always generous, did offer up her nipple to her friend, and Emily suckled contentedly for a couple of minutes as I stroked myself. When I helped my wife to her feet and asked her how it tasted, she admitted, “A bit strange, sir.” I had to laugh at that, and I kissed her.


“Naughty little girl, Im sure that some people here would love to punish you,” I said, and led her, still blind and restrained, to the larger table. I had her kneel, and I lashed her wrists to one of the sturdy table legs. Her back exposed as she knelt, I gave all of the guests a chance to beat her with their choice of flogging device, and blind Emily had no way of knowing who, or what, would be hitting her next as her friends lovingly reined blows on her back and ass. Her backside was a garish red, and her face was streaked with tears, by the time her punishment was finished.


While Emily was being abused, I enjoyed a little pleasure from Joseph while Sra. Santos teasingly fingered his ass (for she is the only woman I ever knew who was more turned on by two men playing than my own wife), and even that was enough to cause the sensitive boy to shoot his load all over the couch. He, in many ways as submissive as my wife, proceeded to lick up the mess himself.


The party was a success, to be sure, and our friends all went home thoroughly satisfied. After dressing, Emily (the calm, happy hostess again…one would never guess that shed just been used as a nasty little pain-slut for the past three hours) led Shelton and his wife, and Joseph, to their quarters for the night, for they would be staying with us and going on to the train station with us in the morning. I was already in the room, undressing again, when she came back in from the nursery, having checked on the quietly sleeping children one last time.


Though Emily smiled radiantly, very pleased with herself, as she undressed to join me for bed I observed, “Dearest, you did not come very much during our little party.”


Emily looked thoughtful for a moment. “Twice,” she said thoughtfully. “When you fucked me, of course, sir, and while I was being whipped.”


I laughed again. I knew that she had always enjoyed her punishments, much more than would seem natural, but I could not recall a time when she had come just from punishment alone. She flushed again, grinning, knowing my thoughts. “My nasty little exhibitionist whore,” I teased, for I knew that being around others, having them abuse her for their own pleasure, turned her on so. “We will have to have more parties for our friends, wont we?”


“Oh, yes, sir.” And though she felt shed gotten her share of pleasure, I had her ride me one more time, and gave her more of the pleasure that I knew she so deserved.



I would have preferred to spend Christmas more quietly, but I knew that Emily was quite in her element at the Sheltons large country house. There was more than enough room to accommodate us, with some of the siblings (many of them attending school themselves, and off for their break) doubling up in the rooms. They kindly offered us the master bedchamber, but Emily gave it up to the Sheltons, for she felt that it was their family home (though shed been the one to pay for it). Such things never mattered much to Emily, and she was just as happy in the slightly smaller corner room, looking over the lovely little duck pond in the backyard, frozen over with the winter chill.


The house was perfectly warm and comfortable, and full of bustling activity. Emily got on well with the older Shelton girls, and teenaged Alice was glued to her side during our entire week there. Alice was absolutely in love with Emily, and the relationship that developed between them later was no surprise to me at all. I would even say that, though I was her husband and loved her for all of her life, Alice was, in many ways, her true soul mate. Of course, it would be years after this Christmas celebration that they would begin any such relationship, and all was perfectly innocent at that time. Still, I could see the future, and it pleased me.


Though they had resided in the city for most of their young lives, all of the Shelton boys had taken well to country life. The day before Christmas Eve, all of us men set out early to hunt for geese. Emily saw us off in the early morning, packing our provisions and wishing us luck. As we set out, the next oldest Shelton boy, who was in his first year at a respectable university, commented, “Sir Aaron, your wife is a fine woman.”


Shelton and his twin exchanged knowing glances, and I smiled modestly. “Thank you,” I said, and we left the subject there. I had no intention of sharing my lovely wife with the entire Shelton family. Whore that she was, I was still the one to choose her partners, and I certainly wouldnt have her bending over for any good-looking young man who showed his attentions. Our stay at the Shelton house, on the whole, was quite tame. Emily and the other girls saw to the care of the young children, and Mina ran about as usual, while I spent time with the Shelton men, enjoying the company of other gentlemen for the first time in far too long. Our conversations did often veer into sexual territory, particularly after a few drinks, but these discussions were still fairly mild.


We enjoyed a lovely Christmas feast, with the geese that we had bagged on our trip (most from me, being the most experienced hunter in the group). After exchanging gifts (I had saved all of the gifts for Emily back home, waiting to give them to her in private), we all went to our rooms. Emily and I kept the curtains parted, and with a full, bright moon and the snow-covered grounds, the room glowed strangely as I tied her to the guest bed and fucked her sweetly. We slept while bathed in that glow, whispering to each other, “Happy Christmas, my love.”


We parted for home a couple of days before the New Year, the Sheltons staying on with their family. The rest of our holidays were quiet, compared with our wild party and the busy Christmas with the Sheltons, as we stayed in Wainwright Hall and cared for the girls and for ourselves on our own. I always did enjoy those solitary holidays with Emily, alone in Wainwright Hall, no servants or friends around, just the two of us. And our girls…ah, but they were good girls, demanding as they could be at times, they did give us just enough peace and quiet to enjoy each other properly.


Our lives continued as such for quite some time, and we were perfectly happy and contented once again. For the first time ever, I did not doubt my Emilys happiness. I knew that her smiles were not forced, that she was not dissembling for my sake, or for the sake of the little girls. Our babies grew up healthy in our loving care, and Mina started to become a young woman, as bold and inquisitive as ever, and ready to go out and begin her life.


Emily did not allow herself to cry over Minas going to school until our daughters train had pulled away from the station in London. In the weeks prior to Minas departure, Emily had seen to all of the details, that she had her uniforms ready and her undergarments and other clothing, the proper footwear for any occasion, the proper toiletries, her correct schoolbooks. She seemed as excited as she would have been, if she were preparing to go off to school herself. But when the train left, and I put my arm around her little shoulders, she sobbed. “Oh, sir, our little girl!” I embraced her and laughed softly as she cried against my chest. “Our only child, sir, and shes grown now.”


The poor dear was thinking of Peter again, our lost son who would never get the chance to go to school. “There, now, darling,” I said. “We have our little ones, our collective children, and we love them so.”


“Oh, yes,” Emily agreed readily. At that point already, we each had our favorite of the little girls. We each favored the others child, perhaps to compensate for our lack of blood relation. Emily doted on chubby little Beatrice, and I adored sweet little Charlotte, whose peaceful manner reminded me of the time I had held her mother in my arms, when she had only been a tiny baby herself.


“And we may have more children yet,” I reminded her. And so we did, as she would soon learn that she was pregnant with our last child, our dear little boy Avery. Emily was equally devoted to all three of the youngest children, in part to make up for what she viewed as her failure to care for our first two children. She never could completely rid herself of her guilt, the poor little dear. But she was genuinely happy with our family.


Emily always devoted herself completely to me as well. For the rest of her life, she was my dedicated little sex slave, my darling whore, my only one. Shed give herself to others, certainly, with my prompting and approval, as happy with our little games as she ever was. Shed even fall in love with Alice. But she was all mine, always, and while I dont think that eternity would have been enough time for me to enjoy her thoroughly, I still appreciate the years that I had with her.




















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