Breathless Heavings- by R. Cartwheel

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  1. Chapter One:

    "Lady Victoria Shania Britney Jessica Simpson-Spears awoke that morning feeling both reckless and passionate. Although she had awakened feeling one way or the other every day since puberty, the fact that she had awakened feeling both meant that today was going to be a special day.

    She did not awaken suddenly, for she had been immersed in a dream so rapturous, so tempestuous, so passionate, so timeless, so filled with the manifold ecstasies of love that she surely would have swooned had she not already been asleep. Now, blinking her long-lashed Delft-blue eyes once or twice to remember where she was, a saucy smile played across her full, lush, supple, ruby-red, heart-shaped lips as she recalled the rhapsody to which her nocturnal trance had transported her. She had dreampt, as she did every night, that a tall, mysterious stranger had swept her up onto his dashing white steed, his arm firm and strong as it encircled her slight, perfect waist, and had carried her across the foggy moors to a lush, Eden-like glade, where they had alighted and at once declared their everlasting love for each other while birds twittered in the trees and the dashing white steed relieved itself in the moss. He had pulled her to him impetuously, and though she had tried to restrain him, he was too irresistible to withstand and so she had given in to his fiery caresses. He had crushed her pliant body to his and...and...

    But then she had been awakened by a shaft of sunlight rudely penetrating the curtains of her bedroom window, and the rapturous trance was dissolved, transporting her back to reality.

    As she arose, placing one foot upon the delicate carpet of Persian wool, then another foot, then another, a warm sense of anticipation permeated her perfect body and a smile as beautiful as life itself played upon her always- moist lips. This was, she remembered suddenly, the day of the Duchess of Winston's Masquerade Ball, the most important event of the Devonshire social season. Everyone would be there, virtually the entire peerage of the realm; The Lord of Marlborough, the Duke of Kent, the Earl of Tareyton, the Marquis of Chesterfield, both the Dukes of Benson and Hedges. And, yes, Victoria would be there, too!

    It was to be her first ball. True, she would not be wearing as beautiful a gown as her three sisters. And, true, she would not get to see what her escort looked like until this evening, when he would come by in his carriage to pick her up. But she was going at last! After all the years of drudgery, of sitting at home in the castle playing endless games of solitaire, or that fashionable new game from France, " Toss the Toast," while her half sisters went to all the balls and galas, she, the eldest daughter of Lord Simpson-Spears, was finally going to have a night of her own! Her father, so often intimidated by her sisters, had given his assent secretly, provided she went with young Lord Gastleigh, whom she had never met. And, if her gown did not meet the fashion standard of her sisters, she was certain her Beauty would make up for it.

    For Beauty was somethinjg she possessed in a way that few had ever posessed it before. She was the very definition of the word. Green eyes the colour and texture of the most precious sapphires blazed like yellow beacons from aquamarine sockets. A flawlessly patrician nose separated those eyes from an equally flawless set of full, lush, supple, ruby-red, heart-shaped lips that, when parted, allowed her to speak or consume food. Pitch-black hair the colour of willow bark cascaded from her slender forehead, and the russet tresses floated down to her shoulders, which were like alabaster in the morning sun, though more like the finest marble by moonlight. she was Beauty personified, and uncanny combination of Venus and Aphrodite.

    How beautiful was her Beauty? It was a Beauty so heart-stopping that the spindly old Duc de Beaujolais, on a visit from Versailles, spotted her on the streets of Devonshire one afternoon and promptly toppled headfirst onto the cobblestones, later to be pronounced dead of heart stoppage.

    But, Beauty, as she knew only too well, could also be a curse. Unfortunately, Lady Victoria's three half-sisters had not been graced with a beauty as remarkable as hers, and though Victoria felt only kindness toward them, their envy and jealousy of her occasionally showed. When the old Lord wasn't looking, which was much of the time, due to his various distractions, her sisters had a tendency to treat Victoria like a common scullery maid, ordering her to scrub floors and dressing her in rags inappropriate to her family's wealth and station, and that were completely out of fashion anyway.

    Was it her fault that her natural Beauty had lured her sisters' suitors away, one after the other? Was she to blame that Lady Agnes had always seemed somewhat plump about the ankles? Or that Lady Gertrude had, at birth, been more or less deprived of a neck?Or that Divine Providence had made her third sister, Lady Ralph, both taller and wider than most of the castle doorways?

    She could only hope that her father, never considered the swiftest peer in the county, would be able to rouse himself to get the sisters suitable husbands. Only then would she have her freedom! Only then would she find True Love!
     
  2. " But, in the meantime, she knew that she had to cater to the fanciful whims of her three step sisters, and with that in mind, she threw on her shabby gingham dress and slipped into a pair of old pighide slippers. There was much to do - for one thing, she had to prepare for the arrival of a quaint little tailor she had summoned in secrecy. It was he who would provide her with agown for this evening. She also had to clean out the chamber pots and cook breakfast for her sisters.

    Tripping quietly downstairs so as not to awaken anybody, then picking herself up, Victoria was overjoyed to see that her father was in what was for him a fairly alert state. He was sitting upright in his elegant, mahogany-lined study, tapping himself briskly on the forehead with the venerable family scepter, a hobby that had absorbed much of his time since Lady Victoria's mother, his beloved wife, had expired eighteen years earlier. Cathching sight of his radiantly beautiful daughter, the old Lord averted his eyes, for he had a weak heart.

    ' Dear Victoria, you must be awake already! ' he exclaimed, staring at a priceless tapestry hanging on the wall, a mere trifle he had picked up on a visit to Bayeux.

    ' Oh, Papa! ' Lady Victoria replied happily. ' I am indeed awake, as my presence before you testifies. I daresay I could not sleep another wink, for today I am in higher spirits than ever before! '

    ' And why, pray tell, is that? ' the kindly old Duke asked.

    ' Surely you haven't forgotten, Father, ' she said. ' Tonight is the Rose and Thorn Masquerade - the eight ball given by the Duchess of Winston this season! '

    ' Ah, yes, ' the old Lord said. ' The Duchess certainly has a lot of balls.'

    ' I have heard that said about her, Papa,' said Victoria. ' but this will be my very first ball and I can hardly contain my excitement!'

    ' Yes, but you must promise me again not to breathe a word of it to your sisters, ' the old Lord whispered. ' If they were to find out I had given you my permission to attend this affair, they would make my life miserable. '

    ' I promise, Father,' said Victoria in a voice that was filled with sincerity. ' I have arranged for the tailor to meet me by the Crooked Tree while mysisters are dressing. By the time Lord Gastleigh's carriage arrives, they will have already left. '

    ' Splendid, ' the elderly gentleman said. ' Just make sure that you do not remove your mask at the ball. I have told Lord Gastleigh that he should also remain masked, to avoid any possibility of heinous wrath. '

    ' Yes, Papa,' said Victoria pleasantly, ' though I regret that I will not be able to see all of Lord Gastleigh's fine, handsome features behind his mask. '

    Her kind father cleared his throat nervously.

    ' I imagine he is extremely handsome and dashing, ' Victoria said dreamily, falling into a slight rapture.

    ' One might say he is hadnsome and dashing,' said the Lord slowly, ' but in sooth I cannot say I have actually heard him described so.'

    ' And tall,' Lady victoria continued. ' I'll wager he is tall. And strong, very strong.' The thin, sensuous cloth of her blouse began to stick to her skin. she felt her rapture increase somewhat, and a quiver ran through her perfect body. ' I'll also wager that his shoulders are broad and...'

    ' I would counsel you against rushing into such a wager, my dear, ' averred the old Lord helpfully.

    ' Then he is slender, Father? ' Victoria asked, her breath coming short and heavy.

    the old gentleman coughed several times. ' Everything is relative, my dear. Is the swine slender when compared with an elephant?'

    'Yes,' Lady Victoria replied brightly, sensing this was the beginning of one of her father's clever riddles.

    ' But is the elephant slender when compared to a gnat?'

    'No.'

    ' Then there is your answer,' said the kindly Lord.

    ' How very, very clever you are, Papa!, Lady Victoria gushed. ' But...'

    ' Enough questions, my dearest, ' the old gentleman said with that firmness he could summon up from time to time. ' Soon your sisters will be lumbering downstairs. you should hie yourself hence.' With that, the old peer picked up his beloved family scepter and resumed his habitual pastime.

    Her blush still fading, Victoria happliy gathered up her skirts and bounded girlishly from the study, the rhythmic thwack, thwack of the scepter following her out the door.
     
  3. Well done, so far it has been as funny as colon cancer.
     
  4. Somehow I don't see this featuring in the Guardian Arts review this week.

    Could we have Peter Dow back please??
     
  5. Have you been shagging Anya1982 - She is the only other member of Arrse who posts such drivel :x :x
     
  6. " Lady Victoria thought the afternoon would never end. Her three sisters kept her busy with all manner of menial tasks so they could rest for the Grand Ball. But, she went about her chores with a pleasant humour, and a smile of anticipation never left her face, not even while she massaged the unusually large bunions on Lady Gertrude's feet.

    Still, her sisters could not stop cruelly taunting her. ' A shame you shan't go to the ball,' Lady Agnes brayed. ' Everyone above a Viscount will be there.'

    ' I hear that the Prince may attend,' Lady Gertrude mumbled, dribbling cake crumbs down her ample bodice.

    ' Even more exciting than that,' rasped Lady Ralph, ' rumour has it that the Duke....of Earl will be in attendance! ' The sisters all gasped. as everyone in Devonshire knew, the Duke of Earl was the most charming, the most sought-after - and the most elusive - man in the county. even dutiful Victoria, who did not indulge in idle chatter, had heard of the notorious Duke of Earl. Women repeatedly fell at his feet, scuffing his boots, and it was even whispered that several had committed suicide - of an overdose of epsom salts - after being spurned by the young Duke. So many men had challenged him over affairs of honour that he had been compelled to keep a waiting list. If that weren't enough, he was also an accomplished horseman, a first-rate swordsman, and the luckiest gambler in the realm.

    He must be awfully conceited, Victoria thought as her stepsisters indulged in gossip about the young Duke. She pictured him as a bloated, somewhat pompous man with long whiskers who would probably speak dully and at great length on subjects that bored her - cards and horses and life. Yet, in her heart of hearts, she was curious about the undoubtedly arrogant Duke and wondered if she would ever meet him.

    Victoria turned to scrubbing out the privvies with good cheer, though she wished that her mentor and governess, Martha, was with her still. For years Martha had supervised the household staff and castle. She..she could make the privvies glisten or know the reason why! But, that was not all. Martha was a genius of domestic science. Frugal and inventive. Nothing was ever wasted. Once Victoria was stunned to witness Martha chastizing a servant for daring to throw away a worn metal cooking pot. ' Fool ! ' Martha screamed. ' There's much use left in that! ' upon which she grabbed the tin pot, turned it upside down, tied a blue ribbon, pulled from her hair, about it and created a radiant centrpiece for the table. Victoria could not contain herself. ' Why, that is magic, Martha! You're a.. a Fairy Godmother! '

    ' We prefer to be called Daughters of Sappho,' she replied and left the room leaving Victoria to ponder her words. Sadly, Martha had to be dismissed when it became apparent she was cooking the castle books rather than supper.

    Victoria returned to the privvies. It was a task her sisters gave her when the servants were off, as they were today, to attend the public hanging later that afternoon of a notorious bread-roll thief. Even her own lady's maid, the French-born Brigitte, had decided to attend, for advance word among the servant class had it that the thief might be drawn and quartered as well. As she toiled, she listened virtuously to her sister' slanderous gossip.

    ' D'you suppose the Duke of Earl is anything like his late father?' Lady Agnes grunted.

    ' Oh, my, those rumours! He was quite the ladies man, wasn't he?' asked Lady Gertrude crudely. ' Still, nothing as bad as his son, the young Duke of Earl. Rumour has it ' - her voice dropped to a coarse whisper - ' that he has violated the purity of several county virgins. '

    A hush fell over the three sisters as each of them pondered the fortunate local ex-virgins.

    ' I wonder how he'll be hung ? ' said Lady Ralph dreamily.

    'What? her sisters chorused.

    ' The bread-roll thief,' said Lady Ralph.' from a gibbet? From a gallows? drawn and quartered? I do hope they aren't coddling them this month.'

    'Oh,' said Lady Agnes, much relieved.

    'Anyway,' Lady Ralph opined, ' that young Duke is certainly a bounder!'

    ' A blackguard! '

    ' A Rake! '

    ' A Hoe !'

    The three sisters looked at Vistoria, whoi had uttered this last declamation.

    ' What, pray tell, is a hoe?' Lady Ralph asked witheringly.
    Victoria blushed. ' A hoe,' she said weakly, 'You know, like a rake, only without teeth. '

    At that, the sisters dissolved into sputering, loud snorting giggles and it took all of Victoria's Christian charity not to think of the sounds made by the hogs when her sisters forced her to slop them. She tried to banish the thought from her mind. I'll think about Love and Beauty and Passion instead, Victoria said to herself and soon the snorting laughter of the sisters faded as Victoria was once again transported into a semitempestuous rapture....
     
  7. At least Papa is getting some action.

    Does this story have a meaning? Is it copied from a Mills and Boon? Or Womens' Weekly?

    Either way, its REALLY rivetting.

    zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
     
  8. And there you have it folks, from the EXPERT of boring posts. :D
     
  9. :cry: :oops: :cry: :oops: :cry: :oops: :cry: :cry: :twisted: :x :x

    Philistines!! Illiterate ingrates!!!

    Like none of you have ever read a ' romance novel ' and thought you could do better...

    If I had called her Lady Fergie and slapped Prince Harry in it somewhere, you'd all be hanging on every word!..

    SIGH
    SNIFF [ takes out delicately scented lace handkerchief with a wonderously embroidered initial in fine gold thread ] HHHOOONNNKKK!!!! [ and spits demurely in the corner ]
    FINE!! I'm closing my laptop on this and going to the bar for a drink..

    b*gger
     
  10. You meant desperate ugly fuckw*t expert of boring posts, surely?.
     
  11. ViroBono

    ViroBono LE Moderator

    [​IMG]

    Rocketeer is unhappy that we do not appreciate his 'ladies' novelette...
     
  12. Being a man of great patience I read that drivel - every bloody word. Please tell me that's not the end. Please tell there is a punchline. Please tell me I haven't just wasted 10 minutes of my life reading it and there isn't a punchline. Help me.

    Translated version for Ragy and Anya

    I red dat it wusnt very gud wus it a joke cus ifit wus ididnee geddit.
     



  13. Make your mind up :roll: :roll: or does she have one of each colour??
     

  14. i was wondering exactly the same thing!
     
  15. Dirt_Diver

    Dirt_Diver LE Moderator

    that's the badger.