“May I m’lord?” Miss Frothinglips’ gentle dulcet vowels contrasted sharply with her strong thumbs as they dug into my rear crease. Her nails bit. My knuckles slowly whitened. The pail rattled against the stile. “Jut your buttocks outward Ruby,” His Lordship commanded. He clasped my hands where they clenched the rungs: the vertical lean barely accommodated his bulk. I dipped my knees and squatted, by sore bottom mooned rudely. Eight dainty digits peeled my peach, I felt warm puffs of air; her thumbs prodded my soaked purse, a forefinger pressed my rosebud. “Mr. Steedstiff will appreciate this naughty one m’lord.”
This link goes to The Bumhampton Chronicles category so you can catch up at any time.
I feel like Ruby is in for another treat shortly 😊
Lots and lots of treats.
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Okay, I am caught up. This is some story, I must confess I am in a stiffened state by now.
Thanks Elliot for reading every single episode. I’ll be posting more drabbles 4-5 days a week. In the main, this is not a stroke story and certainly not a faithful recreation of Victorian erotica. I am trying something different by writing 100-word snippets while creating an overall story arc to be fleshed out later. It’s Ruby’s story and there are lots of adventures to cum.