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Introduction:

It the time of Napoleon Hugo takes Amelia for his whore

Set in the days of the Napoleonic Wars Amelia has an unwelcome visitor

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Sweet Amelia ravished.

(by her "Uncle".)


“Papa, dead?” Amelia gasped as her uncle Rufus brutally announced his brother’s demise.

“Indeed,” Rufus agreed, “”My dear brother has gone to meet his maker, or more likely the forked tailed blighter where it’s nice and hot!”

“That is outrageous!” Amelia declared.

“Sir please!” her mother Lady Armitage added, “I know you despised Henry but please do not speak ill of your brother.”

“Yes indeed, what right have you to criticise?” Amelia demanded, “Keep a civil tongue or be gone!”

“Control yourself my dear,” Lady Armitage cautioned, “With Papa gone everything is entailed upon your uncle.”

“What everything, surely not, for what will become of us?” Amelia queried.

“You, well, you should do very well, in the whore house!” Rufus chuckled with twisted wit.

Amelia choked.

“No!” her mother gasped, “Do not be so disgusting, surely you have some compassion?”.

“You may remain as cook or housekeeper, of course,” Rufus conceded, “But that whorish abomination shall remain within my house not a moment longer than is absolutely essential.”

Amelia’s mother stood immobile and wordless, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly as her face drained of colour until white with shock and fear

“But Mama!” Amelia protested, “What does he mean, this is our house, Uncle Rufus cannot order us about so!”

“But he can,” Amelia’s mother corrected, “With your father gone Uncle Rufus has everything we must seek to rely on his charity.”

“And such should I extend willingly but for your deceitful and immoral conduct," Rufus explained, “Oh yes I know your dirty secret.”

Amelia looked at her mother and her mother looked away, her stomach churned, how had Rufus found out her secret.

But how could he? Amelia wondered, surely Stephen would never have betrayed her?

“Sleeping with the footman! whoring yourself with the staff,” Rufus continued.

Amelia blushed bright crimson, but Stephen was a gardener not a footman, how had Rufus got it wrong?

Amelia thought back to the day many years earlier when she became friends with the new young gardener, Stephen was her own age almost and lacking friends she had tarried near him and made him slow with his work so he was scolded by the fore-man but they became friends.

Good friends, too good, “I wish I were a Gentleman,” Stephen had said one day, “Or you a maid.”

“Why?” Amelia asked.

“So as I could wed thee,” Stephen admitted.

“Wed me?” Amelia simpered, “Do you have feelings for me then Stephen?”

“Aye indeed, rampant feelings Miss, in the night miss,” he teased.

“For me?” she simpered, “Surely you don’t, there are many maids much prettier than me!”

“There is something special,” he said, “As if we were meant to be.”

“I feel it too,” Amelia admitted, “When you touch my hand, it is like my own hand.”

“Aye that’s it,” he said, “It’s from inside somehow or other.”

“And when you kiss me?” she asked.

“Well I don’t know,” he said.

“So kiss me,” she taunted.

“Someone will see!” he protested.

“In the shed,” Amelia suggested and she took him by the hand and into the near darkness of the potting shed.

A chaste kiss, a hand upon her knee, a touch like her own hand yet larger, firmer and a yearning which she sensed as his hand slid under her dress and petticoats.

His lips sought her lips as his hands sought her teats and with no thought of impropriety but only of kindness she slid her hands inside his breeches and released his constrained snake.

She only wanted to feel it against her thigh, and against her slot, but devilment led her to ease it within the base of her slot and with a single thrust he claimed her.

But not for a moment did she see the impropriety in it, everything seemed so right, so natural, his skin the same as hers as if cut from the same sheet, and as they conjoined they became as a single being, two beating hearts in concert and two minds in complete concert and unity.

But how could Rufus know.

“No brother you cannot!” Lady Armitage insisted bringing Amelia’s thoughts back to the present.

“Do not seek to lecture me sister, or you too will be seeking alternative lodging,” Rufus said nastily, “And I do not think the whore house will welcome you!”

“But Uncle!” Amelia pleaded, she did not understand, he was rugged and strong in a way her father had never been, hansom some would say, like a bearded pirate almost but his beard was curly and a ginger and though often a jovial character it seemed he had never liked Amelia, and she knew not why.

“But why,” Amelia pleaded, “You have no wife or family,” she pointed out though at barely twenty eight years of age Rufus had many years of freedom planned before he succumbed to the drudgery of marriage, “Why do you seek to evict us?”

He stared at Amelia, secure in the knowledge that his beard hid his emotions, “Because I can.”

“Then I shall defy you.” Amelia insisted.

“And see your dear mother in the work house?” he queried, “I think not.”

“I shall allow you one week,” Rufus said simply, “And then you shall accompany me to the George Hotel where in a back room and the servants quarters has Madame Hubbard set up her establishment.”


Amelia was deeply troubled, she knew little of whores and whore houses and as soon as she could she sought out Stephen and laid her troubles bare upon him.

“Why thats a pretty pickle and no doubt,” Stephen admitted when Amelia blurted everything out.

“But don’t you see, we can marry!” Amelia suggested for she thought she might flee with Stephen but he counselled against it.

“No,” he said, “For I shall visit you whenever I can afford to.” How could she understand that he felt he was saving her from a life of drudgery, “And what use are you as a wife, cannot cook nor sew nor nothing, no,” Stephen had said sadly, “You canst be no wife for the likes of me, better far to go to the whore house, save your money and open your own establishment one day.”

Amelia was quite simply stunned, she could not understand how Stephen could be so heartless.


It was a week to the day when Rufus returned, Amelia waited in the parlour, her bags packed,
“And what exactly do you expect to do with those?” Rufus asked as he kicked at one of Amelia’s bags, “You can hardly carry all those bags to Rutherford Magna can you?”

“But I thought,” Amelia said awkwardly.

“Well you thought wrong,” Rufus said nastily,” Just leave it.”

“No!” Amelia protested.

“Leave it or walk to Rutherford Magna,” Rufus advised, “For my compassion extends only to carrying yourself upon my horse.”

“Go Amelia,” her mother advised, “There may even be enjoyment in it for you.”

“As a whore?” Amelia retorted, “Pah!”

But Amelia still went with Rufus, sitting behind him upon his horse to the George in Rutherford Magna.

Mrs Hubbard was a statuesque woman of some fifty years, once a courtesan now a brothel keeper she stood in the doorway of ‘The George’ attired in the latest fashions of the previous season as Amelia approached.

“Is this she?” Mrs Hubbard asked, of Rufus, “Hardly the great beauty you promised.”

“I have never claimed to be beautiful,” Amelia insisted.

“No,” Mrs Hubbard insisted, “But your ‘Friend’ said you were something special, though why I cannot fathom.”

“Madam we had an agreement,” Hugo insisted.

“Ten guineas?” Mrs Hubbard offered.

“Then I take her honour,” Hugo countered.

“Done, a pleasure Mr Cornard!” Mrs Hubbard agreed.

Amelia took careful note but said naught.

“Then take a beverage, Mr Cornard” Mrs Hubbard suggested, “And I shall prepare the wench.”

Hugo indeed took a beverage, but a lime juice cordial rather than mead or porter, while he thought of Amelia, the soft swell of her bosoms, the graceful curve of her neck, her ruby lips, her curly blonde hair and he imagined her cries as he despoiled her.

Amelia was whisked into the bosom of the whore house, Mrs Hubbard summoned the girls and swiftly Amelia was stripped to her under things and beyond until she was entirely naked and then the tightest corset she had ever known, in black leather which thrust up her bosom and shaped her hips, and then she was taken to a small room with just a simple bed to await Rufus.

“You cannot leave me thus, I shall die of shame!” Amelia protested, but it was excitement she felt, anticipation of a long warm cock sliding inside her making her feel whole and loved the way Stephens lovely pink cock made her feel, could manly bearded Rufus make her feel thus she wondered? and her parts became moist at the thought.

Her thoughts were banished as Hugo was ushered in, “My eye!” he gasped as he saw her sitting on the bed, her knees drawn up and her chin resting thereon, and unknowingly holding the poise of a seasoned courtesan, “Oh my, but you’re all grown up.”

“So what did you expect?” Amelia demanded.

“I don’t know, but your mounds, so womanly!” Hugo gasped.

“Thrust up by this contrivance, dear brother,” Amelia mocked.

“Enough insolence, lie back,” he ordered, “That I may make a woman of you!”

Amelia giggled, he was too late, too late by many months, why she was nigh on nineteen years now and should have had her season and been married by now but for her father’s long illness.

She watched Hugo disrobe, his chest was manly, his thighs well muscled, his chest acceptable but his cock, why it was half the size again of Stephen’s, Amelia licked her lips, why he might never realise she was no virgin.

But her smile gave her away, her eager anticipation, “Lie back,” Hugo ordered as he joined her on the bed, naked now but his dagger sheath strapped to his lower left leg.

“Be gentle with me,” Amelia said quietly and entirely insincerely for she wanted his length deep and hard inside her, filling her as never before until it burst in uncontrollable passion.

“Please,” she said.

“I’ll be gentle all right,” Hugo said as he eased her thighs apart and placed his knees between them, “When it suits.”

He gently aimed his cock between her soft pink lips leading to her womb and thrust mightily against her maidenhead as he thought.

“Ohhh,” he gasped as she yielded much more than he could have dreamed throwing him off balance from where he would have fallen if Amelia had not grasped him firmly.

“You’re not pure?” Hugo gasped as his cock speared too easily into Amelia’s moistened slot.

“No,” she admitted.

He paused, shocked but could not resist a further thrust to slide almost ball deep within her

.“Ohhh, brother!” Amelia gasped, “That is perfection!”

“You stupid sluttish whore!” Hugo gasped, but though revolted he could not but thrust again, “Losing your honour, well madam, I’ll teach you to deceive me!” he said and he eased back and then thrust with all his might against her, showing no care for her feelings.

“How does that suit madam,” Hugo demanded as Amelia gasped with the force of his passion.

“Very well sir,” she admitted, “But do not hold back on my account, why Stephen was far more forceful on occasion and he did not break me.”

“You evil slut!” Rufus charged, “Take that, take all of it!” he railed as he brutally rammed his member into Amelia time after time after time.

Amelia convulsed with Hugo’s thrusts, her eyes wide as the bearded monster rammed into her straining to the utmost in his quest to outdo Amelia’s other lover.

But her mind was in turmoil, Amelia’s struggled with her emotions as wave after wave of pleasure wracked her body as with seemingly never ending energy Hugo possessed her utterly. Waves of pleasure that engulfed her entire being in a way Stephens gentle loving could never equal and she gasped with each thrust until tears ran down her cheeks and she cried out in ecstasy.

“Oh brother, yes, yes, love me brother, oh my this is heaven!” she gasped to Hugo’s utter astonishment, no whore he knew welcomed being used thus leaving their parts bruised and battered, and soon he came to realise he too was floating heavenwards on a sea of passion.

“I’ll show you what pleasure is Madam!” Rufus cried “Take that!” And he erupted with a mountainous wave of passion as his seed flooded her parts like an ocean wave upon the rocks of the sea side. A wave of cooling semen flooded Amelia’s seemingly red hot parts and they stilled as with a last mighty spurt his passion was sated.

Amelia stared wide eyed into Stephen’s eyes and she reached up and pulled his head down to hers ad kissed his lips as his thrusting died to a gentle rhythm, “Thank you,” she said, “I own I shall relish being a whore.”

“You bloody fool, tis not always thus,” Rufus said quietly as he gently rocked within her, “Ninety nine times from a hundred it shall not be, my god, that was the best ride I ever had.”

“Then you must come to see me with regularity,” Amelia suggested as she imagined her future life as one of constant passion, “For I know only of Stephen’s loving tenderness and your passion.”

“I shall, I shall indeed,” Hugo agreed though he made no move to prise himself from the bed or from her embrace.

Hugo struggled with his emotions, Amelia smiled where she should have cried in utter humiliation, “Who plucked thee, was it forced?” he demanded.

“No, it was Stephen, Mosely, the gardener, are you shocked?” Amelia asked.

“Albert Moseley’s son?” Hugo enquired.

“Yes, why?” Amelia asked innocently.

“You idiot!” Hugo protested, “Don’t you realise what you have done is a mortal sin?”

“Lost my honour, so what?” she enquired.

Hugo wiped his cock and sat on the bed next to Amelia, “My brother was impotent, he took a whore in Egypt back before Napoleon in seventeen ninety something, caught the clap. He could have no issue. Your mother was caught in flagrante with Albert Moseley, several times, do you see.”

“See what?” Amelia asked.

“You’re Stephen Moseley’s sister,” Hugo said awkwardly, “I thought everyone knew.”

“So?” Amelia asked.

“That is incest, you will rot in hell,” Hugo insisted.

“Well it was worth it!” Amelia insisted, “At the time, he, well I, thought he loved me.”

“You whore!” Hugo snapped.

“Touche’” Amelia exclaimed and clapped, “Did not the bed, and my attire suggest I that I am a whore, did you not plan for me to be a whore?”|

“Amelia!” Hugo responded.

“So here I am, waiting, so use me, please me, come along, chop chop,” Amelia goaded and she trailed a finger along Hugo’s now shrunken cock which immediately began to stiffen.

“My god I shall, indeed I shall, and relish it,” Rufus replied and with that he stood up and abruptly swung onto the bed, briefly adjusting his position until he could drive his swelling member between Amelia’s willing thighs and deep into her wanton womb.

A gentle knock upon the door, “Tis time sir, another Gentleman awaits.”

“Tell him to bugger off, I am not finished,” Rufus insisted.

“Now now sir we have an agreement.” Mrs Hubbard reminded him.

“Uncle Hugo,” Amelia said curiously, “Your member is growing again.”

“Uncle!” a deep voice chuckled from outside the door, “She calls him uncle!”

“The young lady will be with you shortly sir, take a seat if you would please,” Mrs Hubbard requested.

“Why did you kiss me?” Rufus asked suddenly.

“I wanted to,” Amelia replied, “You looked so hansom and rugged.”

“Do you expect me to say you are beautiful?” Hugo asked.

“I am not beautiful,” Amelia laughed, “What a notion.”

And as she said it she stroked his member to full attention and lay back to guide it within her womb.

“But you are, even as a child, lord knows how I kept my hands off you,” Hugo admitted as he began to thrust, “Lord if only I had known of your relations with the gardener.”

“So why do you hate me?” Amelia asked curiously.

“I don’t hate you not now,” Hugo explained, “Indeed how could I when you bring me so much pleasure.”

“Well,” Amelia said coyly, “Why did you not simply tell me how you felt?”

“You might have spurned me,” he suggested.

“And now?” she said as she again reached up to brush his lips, “Do you still want to share me, do you want to be second or third or twenty first best, or do you want to be the best lover I ever had for always?”

“I can not marry you.” he said flatly.

“But I can be your mistress!” Amelia suggested, “Who will know?”

“I don’t,” Hugo said but his member betrayed his thoughts and passion overwhelmed him, “We will talk later,” he said and as he began to thrust once more he pinned Amelia’s head to the pillow with his lips.

“Admit it,” Amelia whispered, “Confess.”

“I love you,” Hugo whispered.

“I know, now show me,” she replied.

The bed creaked to the rhythm of love, Mrs Hubbard wisely enticed the other gentlemen away to other willing wenches and at length Hugo was spent.

“Will you come home?” Hugo said as he dressed afterwards, “Be my mistress?”

“Yes,” Amelia agreed almost too quickly.

“And the gardener?” Hugo asked, “Your feelings for him?”

“Send him hence for all I care,” Amelia agreed, “For he is not a quarter the man that you are.”

“You switch your allegiance so quickly, hatred to love in an instant?” Hugo asked.

“I am a whore sir, I love the highest bidder,” Amelia simpered, and then whispered, “I crave your cock sir, and I know you want me.”

“My god here’s a pretty pickle,” Hugo admitted, “I thought to leave you here for all to enjoy but now, oh lord, how do I explain this away?”

“You are my uncle, explain nothing,” Amelia suggested, “Until the children come.”

“You are truly an evil devious,” Hugo said his cock stiffening as he said it.

“A perfect match then are we not?” Amelia asked.

An awkward discussion ensued, for the brothel whores had already stolen Amelia’s fine clothes and after much bartering Amelia was given a poor smock to cover her nakedness and she went barefoot with Hugo to return to the house.

But after a few paces Hugo swept Amelia up onto the horse, but before him this time, so he could hold her with his arms around her, his hands briefly cupping her breasts, “Hugo!” she hissed, “You will inflame me again, desist, or be prepared to sate me.”

“Oh I shall sate you Amelia, you may be sure of that,” Hugo chuckled, “Absolutely!”

They made their way to the Armitage house, Lady Armitage herself attended them as they swept into th courtyard, “Amelia!” she cried, “What is the meaning of this?”

“Finest whore I ever sampled, she is a credit to you ma’am,” Hugo laughed as he handed Amelia to the ground and followed, where after he swept her into his arms and kissed her full on the lips in a long lingering passionate kiss.

“Too good by half for that common rabble,” Hugo confirmed, “She shall be my whore and mine alone!”

“He is so strong and passionate Mama,” Amelia confirmed, “Is it true Papa was not my father?”

Lady Armitage looked at the floor, “Yes, it is common knowledge.”

“And Stephen is my brother?” Amelia asked.

“Maybe, maybe not, the father and I,” the Lady admitted, “But there were others, many others, you could have one of a dozen fathers.”

“Mother!” Amelia gasped.

“My eye, now there’s a turn up!” Hugo declared, “Who would have thought it?”

“I grew wary after Amelia, careful, do you see?” the Lady admitted, “Though after Amelia I never gave rise to any question of impropriety.”

“No, and it was very noble of you,” Hugo chuckled, “Though dashed frustrating I’ll wager.”

“Oh you and your small mind Hugo,” the Lady declared, “I’ll have you know Mrs Hubbard’s predecessor Miss Grayson was a particular friend of mine,” she smirked, “There I have shocked you!”

“Surely not?” Hugo said suddenly serious.

“Oh indeed yes, many’s the penny I have earned from some lusty young labourer when I would gladly have paid him ten times the price for serving me,” she said, “Have I shocked you?”

“Yes madam, deeply, to the core.” Hugo exclaimed.

“Mama, you jest surely?” Amelia queried.

“No dear, it was the cruellest misdeed that gave Henry the Egyptian cock rot so soon after we married,” Lady Armitage continued, “But I made the best of it.”

“And now your whoring days are behind you?” Hugo enquired.

“No sir,” Lady Armitage insisted, “For I still have carnal lusts and cravings, why I could give you a good time the equal of any my daughter might.”

“Mother!” Amelia snapped, “Remember your station!”

“And remember yours Amelia,” Lady Armitage snapped, “You are nothing but a whore and the daughter of a whore!”

“And a very fine one indeed,” Hugo said reassuringly.

“What her, she is nothing but skin and bone,” Lady Armitage challenged, “One day when you are grown up perhaps you’ll like a proper woman.”

“Leave him alone Mama, he is mine!” Amelia challenged.

“No, no, Amelia, your mother has laid down a challenge,” Hugo declared, “She avers that I
would rather hump her mountainish flesh than make love to you Amelia.”

“Surely not, not after what we had?” Amelia queried.

“Well, under the circumstances,” Hugo suggested wickedly, “And as the offer appeared sincere, I shall accept the offer Madam, and if you prevail I shall indeed cast Amelia back to the whore house, and if not, well we shall see.”

“No Hugo, not Mother!” Amelia protested but Hugo moved to hold Amelia again pulling her to him, his hands on her breasts, his lips kissing her neck until she felt his cock stir anew..

“Ha, see how insincere he is Amelia.” Lady Armitage chortled.

“On the contrary Madam,” Hugo countered, “My member grows stiff with anticipation, pray disrobe that we might fornicate forthwith.”

“I was a jest sir,” Lady Armitage insisted.

“And in poor taste,” Amelia added.

“Disrobe I say,” Hugo repeated, “Now Madam, now!”

Lady Armitage stood defiantly, “I shall not!” she insisted, but in an instant Hugo drew his dagger and sliced open the back of Lady Armitage’s gown, exposing the lacing of her corset which he proceeded to cut string by string, and her petticoats which he dragged to her knees thus exposing her buttocks and backside.

“Hugo!” Amelia protested.

“I know my darling,” he replied, “How could anyone desire that when they have you to ravish instead,” and with that he advanced upon Amelia and pressed her against a wall while he released his member from his breeches and with every encouragement from Amelia thrust once again into her wet and willing womb.

There was less hardness, less passion, less foaming torrent of love juice, but more tenderness, more love, and as she looked on Lady Armitage found her gaze transfixed and her needs paramount and she swiftly grabbed a rolling pin from the side and began to sate her needs by thrusting it deep inside herself.

“Hugo!” Amelia gasped.

“Amelia!” Hugo gasped.

“Oh god,” Lady Armitage gasped as Rogers the boot boy walked in on them.

“Beg pardon sir, madam, miss,” he said.

“Well don’t just stand there, your mistress needs seeing to, drop your breeches and go to it lad!” Hugo chuckled.

“Sir?” Rogers said awkwardly.

“Drop your breeches lad, the old bitch is on heat and needs quenching!” Hugo laughed.

Rogers looked at Lady Armitage rather uncertainly but seeing the wicked glint in her eye he did as he was bid, revealing his boyish cock which strained rather ineffectually to a paltry six inches.

“It will have to suffice,” Hugo observed, “Up and at her lad.”

“Round the back!” Lady Armitage ordered as she went and laid herself across the kitchen table her buttocks raised awaiting Rogers, and swiftly Rogers forced his manhood such as it was into her ladyship’s waiting hole.”

“It’s not on my list of duties,” Rogers complained as he started to hump, “Butler usually seed to her lasyship afore he got boot.”

Hugo shook his head sadly, “Is there no one with any decency in this household?” he queried.

“It would seem not,” Lady Armitage agreed, “And you sir are worst of the lot.”

“And you Madam shall be pilloried for your debauchery, so think on,” Hugo replied as he thought wicked thoughts of Lady Armitage pinned naked in the stocks at Dawley or even the market square at Rutherford Magna whilst all and sundry took their turn to humiliate her or fornicate with her. Why they might even force a confession that Amelia was not Henry’s issue but a bastard and then.

To be continued

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