Strange Masks (Lust and Lace)
Author: Lady T L Jennings
Date: 2011-08-18T14:00:00+00:00
Description: Two sisters and their cousin find an old chest in the attic filled with antique masks and decide to throw a masquerade. However, the masks seem to make everyone forget who they are and how to behave properly… About the author: Lady T. L. Jennings is a secretive writer who loves the Victorian era, afternoon tea, and small obedient dogs. She lives in Oxfordshire, England, and writes Victorian erotica and romance short stories with a dash of gothic mystique, usually after midnight and by candle light. She collects corsets, lovers, and books.
Publisher: Lady T.L. Jennings

~ Strange Masks ~

A Victorian Romance and Erotic Short Story

by Lady T. L. Jennings

Look! What is that, over there?” Isabella was pointing at an object under a dusty sheet in the corner of the attic, which turned out to be an old wooden chest. The two sisters and their cousin immediately tried to open it.

“It is stuck; it will not open!” said Mary, disappointed.

“Oh, step aside, little sister, and let me have a try,” said Isabella. “After all, I was the one who found it.”

“I think actually that I should have a try – after all, I am the oldest one here,” interrupted Jane, their cousin, sweeping her brown curly hair out of her eyes.

After much debating and fussing, they managed to open the antique chest. The metal from the hinges creaked a little. They looked into the chest curiously, pushing each other to get a better look at its contents.

“What on Earth is that?” asked Mary.

“I-I do not know, really,” said Jane, looking down at the face-shaped items in black and white.

“I know what it is!” Isabella cried out with triumph in her voice. “Look,” she said, and grabbed one of the objects and held it up in the weak light. “These are masks! Masks, which are meant to be used during a masquerade!”

The silence held for about three seconds, and then the two sisters and their cousin left the attic, running down the stairs and screaming to each other.

*

Oh, no. The peace is over for today. Thomas Wilson sighed and lowered his newspaper as he heard the girls coming down the stairs and talking loudly to each other.

“Papa! Papa! You have to see what I found,” yelled Isabella.

“Uncle Thomas, Uncle Thomas! Look at this!” screamed Jane, waving a mask above her head.

“Papa, can we please arrange a masquerade, please? Please say yes! You have to!” Mary added to the general ruckus as they stormed in to Thomas’s study, a nice room with wooden panels, a large oriental rug and several bookcases filled with books.

Thomas closed the newspaper with another sigh. He was just reading about “The Great Exhibition” which had been held at the Crystal Palace in London, where attractions such as hydraulic presses and steam hammers had been on display.

“Girls! For heaven’s sake, what are you talking about? And please, one at the time. You, Jane. My daughters are not making any sense – perhaps you could enlighten me?”

Both Isabella and Mary blushed, but Jane cleared her throat and said:

“Sir, we found an old chest in the attic. Inside we found strange masks of a curious design.”

Isabella was waving one of the masks to show her father. It had an oversized beak instead of a normal nose, and slanted slits for the eyes.

“And, well…” continued Jane. “We thought that maybe, if you do not think I am to bold to suggest it, we could hold a masquerade, here at the mansion – if you would agree of course.” Both sisters were nodding enthusiastically behind Jane her to show their father what an excellent idea this was.

“A masquerade, you say…” Thomas mused with a blank expression. “I think I recognize those masks... I think that my grandfather brought with him from one of his trips to Venice. There was a story behind them, but I cannot remember it…” He trailed off, absently stroking his greying moustache.

“So, Father, is that a yes? Can we arrange a masquerade then?” asked Isabella in her sweetest voice.

“Please?” begged Mary and tilted her head to one side. “I mean, we had to cancel the spring reception because Mama took ill, and Isabella and I have never had the opportunity to wear the new evening dresses from London. Oh, and Jane will go back to Ipswich in just a couple of weeks,” she added rapidly, realizing that her father would never ever grasp the full importance of dresses.

“Girls! Really!” said Thomas

The girls immediately fell silent and tried to look as well-behaved as possible, even though they were covered in dust and Isabella had spider webs in her hair.

Thomas looked at his two youngest daughters and his favourite niece and knew that he already had lost this battle. “I will talk to your mother about it,” he continued and looked sternly at his daughters, who gave up a cry of disappointment echoed by Jane.

“A-ha! Only well-behaved daughters and nieces get to attend any possible future masquerades!” he said, interrupting their wailing.

“Yes, Father,” said Isabella with a curtsy.

“Of course, Uncle Thomas,” said Jane, and made a curtsy as well.

“As you say, Father,” added Mary, and spread her dusty dress and made a curtsy too. “We do not want to disturb your studies any further, and we will leave you now. Thank you for taking your time with us. Come, little sister and cousin; let us leave Father in peace,” said Isabella. The young women left the room quietly.

Thomas sighed again.

*

“Do you really think Lord Barlow will come tonight?” asked Mary as she fidgeted with her fair, coiled hair in front of the dressing table.

“Is he not too old for you?” teased Isabella, who was standing behind her, examining her own figure and the new emerald green evening dress in the mirror critically. “Maybe he is looking for an older, more mature woman.”

“Oh! Like you ever are going to get married! You are already nineteen, practically an old hag!” screamed Mary and threw the hairbrush at Isabella, who ducked.

“Jane was nineteen when she married last summer, was she not?” Isabella retorted.

“Do not involve me in your argument, please,” said Jane, who was concentrating on putting on a golden necklace.

“What if I never get married?” said Mary in a worried voice.

“Yes, it must be a terrible fate. You will continue to live with our parents and never have children or your own family. But ask Jane; she knows all the tricks for a good match,” said Isabella as she helped Mary with her black and white mask. The mask was decorated with blue feathers that matched the sky-blue evening dress that Mary was wearing. She then helped Jane with her necklace.

“Thank you,” said Jane. “And, well, yes, I consider myself very fortunate that I got married last year.” She smiled mischievously and added in a superior voice, “In fact, I would never ever want to spend so much energy on gossiping about future husbands like you do!”

“I beg your pardon!” Isabella exclaimed with a smile. “Well then. Tell us about your marriage,” she said slyly, adjusting her own mask with the long beak instead of a regular nose.

“You will have to find out for yourself one day.” Jane smiled. “Oh! I forgot my mask in my room. I must go and collect it before the guests will start to arrive. I will meet you downstairs in a moment.”

*

Jane lingered a while in her room before she went downstairs. She had been in this room every summer for as long as she could remember, but this was the first summer she had arrived as Mrs Campbell and not as Miss Lewis, and she could not help that deep down, she missed being Miss Lewis. The matrimonial bliss had yet to occur, but how could it ever do so when Mr Campbell never was around?

And what about children? Jane thought to herself, half mocking and half-sad. How can there be any children if Mr Campbell is always travelling to London?

Aunt Henrietta had carefully asked in the beginning of the summer if Jane had any delicate questions that could be discussed only between married ladies. Jane had said that she had no questions, and she had added that, sometimes, certain things took longer time than others did. Sweet stout Aunt Henrietta, who had given birth to eight children, had given her a knowing smile, agreed and said that patience is a virtue.

Mr Campbell – my husband – is sweet and young, Jane thought, and started to walk back and forth absentmindedly. Not twice my age, which sometimes is the case for younger brides. He was also a very good catch, so everyone had agreed. I should be very grateful and nothing else. He also was quite handsome. Tall and slender, with clear green eyes and dark brown hair. What else could I possibly wish for?

Jane sat down restlessly in a leathered winged chair. Oh, Jane, be honest with yourself and stop acting like a girl. As a married woman, should you not admit – at least to yourself – that two attempts of…physical contact, during a whole year, might be too… seldom for a newly wedded couple? That was the question she would have liked to ask Aunt Henrietta.

She thought about their wedding night. Oh, how she blushed at the memory. It had been a long day, with celebrations and all, until they finally had went to bed. Both of them had been nervous, she was sure about that, and she tried to make everything as easy as possible. She had lain completely still as Mr Campbell had taken off her nightgown and his own and kissed her gently while he spread her legs. It had not been too bad, only hurt a little, and it had not lasted very long. She thought secretly, and perhaps wickedly, that maybe, just maybe, she might even enjoy it with some practice. But the months went by, and even although Jane went to bed early, she rarely had company. Mr Campbell usually sat up late in his study or went to London on business. Before Christmas, when Mr Campbell had arrived back to Ipswich after a long business trip, they had repeated the procedure awkwardly. Mr Campbell sent wonderful gifts from London and seemed to enjoy her company, in a nervous way perhaps, but Jane could not help but wonder if he avoided her.

The sun was going down and the last rays cast long shadows over her old bed. She tied the long velvet ribbons behind her head and adjusted her chequered smiling mask with jester bells in front of her dressing table. For some reason it felt better wearing the smiling mask instead of her own smile. Downstairs it sounded as if the party already had begun.

*

Jane walked down the large stairs, looking for Mary and Jane, but realized the futility of it since everyone was wearing the black and white masks given to each guest upon their arrival. Even the serving men and the little orchestra in the corner were wearing them. She managed to get a glass of punch that she sipped on while she searched for her cousins. She thought she recognized Isabella dancing, with her new green dress and long-nosed mask, and Jane decided to join the dance.

The dance was the classic dance that was held at practically all balls or social gatherings, but Jane thought that either the music played a little too fast or she had drunken the punch a little too swiftly, because in the corner of her eyes she kept seeing strange things going on. Every time she had tried to get a proper look, a new dancing partner, wearing a different mask, arrived in front of her and distracted her. She thought she caught a glance of two persons kissing, half hidden behind a curtain.

That could absolutely not be one of the servants kissing Mary, could it? Jane thought, alarmed, after recognizing Mary’s sky-blue dress from London together with her chequered mask, decorated with feathers. She had to end this dance immediately. She begged her next dancing partner pardon and stepped away, leaving her spot and a surprised woman behind her.

As she left the dance and finally had the opportunity to have a proper look around the room, she was shocked by the scene before her. The drawing room was large, and the dancing event and orchestra took up most of the space, but around it chairs were placed for guests resting or watching the dance while taking refreshments. This night, however, the guests were acting odd, very odd indeed.

She could see a man and a woman, both wearing masks, sitting – no, half lying! – on a loveseat while kissing each other in a most indiscrete way that was not suitable at parties. Even worse, a member of the orchestra lay on the floor and was straddled by a plump woman, and he was actually to Jane’s shocked astonishment stroking the woman’s breasts through the velvet fabric of her gown. No one seemed to mind or care.

“What is going on here?” she asked loudly. She tried not to look anywhere except at her feet as she approached the corner where she had sighted Mary.

“Going somewhere?” a man asked and grabbed her wrist as she passed by. She had not noticed the person as she walked by, but when she tried to turn, he took hold of her other arm so that it was impossible to turn around. “I have not seen you earlier tonight,” he whispered in her ear.

“Please, let go off me instantly! I am terribly sorry to inform you, but somehow everyone has gone quite mad. It could be something with the punch maybe…” She trailed off as the man leaned against her.

“But you do not want me to let go, now, do you?” he said in her ear.

To her surprise, she realized that the unknown man was right. In fact, she wanted something else, something quite the opposite.

“Well, I… I must go to Mary! I think she is in trouble,” she said nervously.

“But she is not. Look for yourself,” the anonymous man said. Jane could feel his breath against her cheek.

He was right, at least in a way. Mary – if indeed it was Mary – was engaged with both the servant and one of the guests. One of the female guests. She was sitting in front of Mary and kissing her tenderly, while the serving man was undoing the many buttons on the back of the sky-blue dress. Mary seemed to enjoy the experience, and one of her hands had slipped underneath the woman’s elegant dress.

“Oh, my God, what are they doing? Someone should stop them…” Jane said, when she suddenly felt a hand moving slowly along her waist. Dazed, she looked down and saw that the hand was travelling along her waist until it reached her chest.

He is wearing a very expensive-looking pleated coat, she thought distractedly, and struggled weakly to be free, but she managed only to press herself closer to the stranger holding her. She became conscious of the fact that she could feel his whole body against her back, which added to her confusion and growing pleasure. This is wrong, she thought distantly, but abandoned the thought completely as her captor started to touch her breast. She wanted him to stop, but also at the exact same time she wanted him to continue!

She pressed herself firmly against him as he slid his fingers inside her mouth. She was pleased to hear him moan quietly as she started to lick his fingers. The moan grew to something else as she discovered that he liked also when she sucked on his fingers as they slid in and out of her mouth. His fingers left her mouth and she felt him undo her evening gown, which fell to the floor. He then let his hand wander under the many layers of her silk undergown while he gently rocked her back and forth against his hard body. When she was ready to come, he brought her down on the floor, and there, in front of everybody and only half-dressed, he entered her with slow, delicate determination. He continued to rock her rhythmically until she cried out and begged him to continue, to take her, to come inside her, without even knowing his name.

*

Episode One

The day after, in the backyard, they burned all the black and white masks together with the old wooden chest in which they had found them. No one ever spoke about all the dreadful and shameful things that had occurred, but quite a few remembered dimly what had happened, and it was agreed secretly and silently that it had been the best masquerade ever.

Episode Two

“Granny, Granny! Look what we have found in the attic.”

***

~ THE END ~

Did you enjoy this short story and would like to read more?

~ Secrets and Seduction ~

- a Victorian Romance and Erotic short story collection. Vol. III.

(Coming in December, 2012)

~ Corsets and Cravings ~

- a Victorian Romance and Erotic short story collection. Vol. II.

~ Lust and Lace ~

- a Victorian Romance and Erotic short story collection. Vol. I.

~ Blackmail ~

- a Gay Victorian Romance and Erotic Novella.

~ Seduced by a Dandy ~

The first novelette from "Different Desire",

a Gay Victorian Romance and Erotic novelette collection

~ A Gentleman’s Secret ~

The second novelette from "Different Desire",

a Gay Victorian Romance and Erotic novelette collection

~ Captured by Him ~

The third novelette from "Different Desire",

a Gay Victorian Romance and Erotic novelette collection

~ About the author ~

Lady T. L. Jennings writes all her stories by hand into classic journals. (The picture was taken in Bath, where Jane Austen lived between 1801-1806.)

Lady T. L. Jennings is a shy writer who loves the Victorian era and afternoon tea. She lives on the outskirts of Oxford in England, and writes Victorian erotica and romance with a dash of gothic mystique in longhand with a fountain pen. She collects books, corsets, and lovers (all with varying levels of success).

Visit her website: www.mysecretquill.com or follow her on Facebook or Twitter for the latest news regarding writing and free stories.

Would you like to support the Author and her work?

Please write a review on Amazon or Goodreads!

~ About this story ~

Masks and masquerades have always intrigue people and the theme is of course not that uncommon in the literature, but I wanted to write my own version of a Victorian sinful masquerade. The main inspiration behind this story was the dancing scene in the movie “The Labyrinth” with David Bowie and Jennifer Connelly together with my general fascination Mardi Gras. Furthermore the whimsical sisters and their cousin were also slightly inspired by the Bennett sisters from Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.

I did some research for this short story including research regarding the “Great Expedition” in London which took place in 1851 at the Crystal Palace in Hyde Park, how to arrange a ball during the 19th century, and women’s’ role in marriage.

I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I liked writing it!

***

All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reused. This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s peculiar imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be regarded or constructed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons (living, dead, or undead), actual events, locales, organisations, or groups is wholly coincidental.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Copyright © 2011 Lady T. L. Jennings

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