Gillian Bagwell

The Darling Strumpet


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conveyed a sense of coiled danger. Nell could see why Rose had said that his mere presence was usually enough to discourage troublemakers. She remembered, too, what Rose had said about his occasionally requiring the services of one of the girls, and hoped that he would not find her to his liking.

      Rose hurried up to Nell and leaned close to speak to her.

      “The missus won’t like it if she sees you back here. You’ve got to get out and speak to the men.”

      “But what will I say?”

      “It doesn’t matter; you’ll think of something. Ned—give me a cup of comfort for Nell, would you? Here—drink this down. It’ll take the edge off and make things easier.”

      Nell wrinkled her nose at the brandy but made herself swallow it in a gulp. She coughed, and tears came to her eyes, but almost instantly she felt a warming sensation followed by a pleasant numbness.

      “Better?” asked Rose. “Good. Come with me.” She pulled Nell with her to the table where she had been sitting with her gentleman and his friend. “Mr. Green, Mr. Cooper, this is my sister Nell.”

      “The usual phrase is ‘one of my cousins,’ is it not?” asked Mr. Cooper with a leer, peering at Nell over spectacles. He was fat and greasy looking and Nell instantly hated him.

      “Yes, sir, but I do not speak in jest or in cant. She really is my sister.”

      “Pretty little thing,” Mr. Cooper commented to Mr. Green. Nell felt she might have been a doll on a shelf, the way he spoke as if she were not there to hear him. She thought of him touching her and wanted to run, but was stopped from further action by the arrival of Madam Ross at her side.

      “I beg your pardon, gentlemen. Come, Nell. A gentleman is asking for you particularly.” She led Nell away and glanced at the table of officers in the corner. “Mr. Cade. He says you’ve met. Take him upstairs. And treat him well. It will do us no harm to be in well with the army lads.”

      Nell nodded, her heart suddenly in her throat. The young officer who had first spoken to her was making his way towards her. He was rather handsome, with dark curling hair and a face bronzed by the sun, and he had seemed friendly enough. Nevertheless, she was afraid. The brandy was making the noisy room echo around her and she felt rooted to the floor.

      Madam Ross gave Cade a seductive smile and a half bow as he approached. “Here she is, sir. Enjoy yourself, pray.”

      Cade returned the bow and the smile.

      “Of that I have no doubt, madam.”

      With a flutter of her fan, Madam Ross drifted off, and Cade turned and looked down at Nell.

      “Lead on, little one.”

      His speech was casual, but his eyes were bright and she could sense the heat of his desire as he followed her out of the taproom and up the stairs to her room.

      As soon as they were in the door, he shoved her against the wall, plunging one hand down her bodice and the other beneath her skirts, reaching between her legs and exploring her roughly. Nell caught her breath at the suddenness of his assault. Images of the previous night flooded her mind and she fought down panic.

      Cade lifted her skirt and grasped her around the waist, thrusting against her backside. Nell could feel his hardness beneath his breeches. He pulled himself away and stood looking at her for a moment, his breathing rapid and his eyes like coals.

      “Take your clothes off,” he commanded, pulling off his sword belt. She was frightened, but with his eyes on her she was more frightened not to obey, and she fumbled with the hooks of her bodice and skirt and dropped them to the floor. He ran his hands over her bare shoulders and throat, then unlaced her stays. When they were free he pulled her shift over her head. Standing there in nought but stockings and shoes, Nell felt more naked beneath his gaze than she would have if she had worn nothing.

      “Come, wench. Onto your knees.”

      So here it was, Nell thought. If this was her chosen trade, this was a part of it, and she had better get used to it than fight it.

      She knelt before Cade and unbuttoned his breeches. His cock sprang forth like a living thing. It seemed enormous, and was alarmingly ruddy and purple. Nell took it into her hand and tentatively licked the head. It felt velvety beneath her tongue, and tasted slightly salty, of sweat and something more, but was not vile, as she had feared it might be. Cade moaned and grasped a handful of her hair and thrust himself into her mouth. Nell felt her gorge rise and instinctively pushed him away. She turned from him, gagging and coughing. Fear rose in her. She was a failure at this, too, and would be turned out.

      “I’m sorry, sir,” she said, her eyes fixed on his boots. “Only I haven’t—”

      “You haven’t had a prick in your mouth before?”

      “No, sir.”

      “Well, first time for everything, isn’t there? Come, try again. I won’t hurt you.”

      Nell once again took him into her mouth, and he did not push so deep into her throat this time. She did nothing except let him move inside her, but that seemed to be all that was required.

      After a few moments, he withdrew and pulled her onto the bed. His breeches around his knees and still wearing his boots, he nudged her thighs apart. Nell remembered the salve that Rose had left with her, but it was too late now.

      Her nether parts were bruised, and Cade’s entry hurt. She thought that if last night had been anything to go by, at least this would not last long. She was relieved to find that she was right. After only a few minutes, his thrusts sped up and Nell felt the spasm as he shoved hard and spent within her.

      She felt his heartbeat slow along with his breathing before he rolled off her. She was unsure what she should do, but he seemed not to expect anything more. He gave her a brief smile and tousled her hair.

      “That’s a good girl.”

      Evidently Nell had given satisfaction, for Cade gave her tuppence on his way out, and as she was washing herself, Madam Ross came to tell her not to bother dressing, as two of Cade’s brother officers had paid for her services.

      “Here’s Lieutenant Dawkins,” she said. Dawkins, big and blonde, was out of his coat before Madam Ross had shut the door behind her, and without a word he pushed Nell onto the bed and settled himself between her legs.

      “Oh, God, but you’re tight,” he moaned in her ear. He moved slowly, lying heavy on top of her. Nell felt that she would smother under his weight and wrenched her head to the side, gasping for breath. Dawkins felt even bigger than Cade inside her, and she wondered how big a man’s pego could be. She thought with alarm of the enormous member of a stallion. Surely no man could be as huge as that?

      A fist thundered on the door.

      “Hurry up, you poxy bastard. Are you going to take all night about it?”

      “Piss off,” Hawkins answered, not interrupting his purposeful stroke.

      The owner of the voice, Lieutenant Harper, was waiting outside the door and gave Dawkins a leering grin as they met in the doorway. He was a ruddy-faced young man with sandy red hair who reminded Nell of a fox.

      “Give her a good one?” he asked, with a glance at Nell.

      “Better than you could manage, mate,” Dawkins returned, and was gone.

      Harper came to the edge of the bed where Nell sat naked and squeezed her small breasts in his hands, pinching her nipples until they stood erect and hard.

      “Go on, open my breeches,” he said. She obeyed. “Look what a star-gazer I’ve got. And it’s going right down your gullet.”

      He pulled Nell to her knees and shoved himself into her mouth, and she fought the urge to gag.

      “Suck, wench.”

      Nell did as he told her. Her lips hurt, stretched wide, and she wished