London 1902

‘Hector thinks it would be a good idea if we were to receive some lessons in the noble art of self-defence. He points out in his note that you may not always be able to rely on a rolling pin being to hand, Mary.’ She raised her eyebrows at me in her inimitable way.

‘A reasonable point, Georgina.’ I smiled back.

‘Exactly. Anyway, tomorrow evening we are to attend the Berkley Club in Berkley Square at half-past seven to meet a certain Mr Portman, who will put us through our paces. He advises us to wear loose clothing, as physical activity will be involved.’

There was an obvious remark to be made at that point; however, as we were both civilised and decorous ladies, neither of us made it. We both thought it, though. And, of course, one of us sniggered.

At the appointed time the following evening, we presented ourselves at what proved to be a gentleman’s sporting club in the southwest corner of Berkley Square. Mr Portman was waiting for us in the hall, and I heard Georgina whisper, ‘Oh, my dear,’ to me as he strode over.

She had a point. He was a strapping fellow in his early forties. His face was tanned and angular with lively blue eyes, a thin military-style moustache, and curly black hair oiled and combed directly backwards. The fellow’s physique was impressive and well set off by the white singlet he wore, which showed off his powerful shoulders to good effect. A pale blue sash circled his waist and a tight pair of tumbler’s hose ending below the knee enclosed his muscular thighs.

‘Good evening, ladies. Guests of Hector Wyatt, I assume? I am Campbell Portman. You are most welcome to the Berkley Club.’ A delighted grin appeared on his face as he looked us both over rather obviously and then added, ‘My word, very welcome indeed.’ He had a rather engaging Scottish burr to his voice, I noticed.

‘I am Mrs Beaufort, and this is Miss Felix. We are here to place ourselves in your hands, Mr Portman,’ said Georgina magnificently, nearly managing to avoid staring at his well-filled groin.

His grin remained in place as he answered. ‘Perhaps you will permit me to show you around before we commence our activities.’

We graciously agreed to this proposal, although Georgina rather spoilt our façade by nudging me and ogling his rather pert bum when he turned and led the way.

The large and very pleasant entrance hall led off to various dining rooms and salons on that floor and above, whilst below, the building extended downwards two floors, the first containing a well-equipped gymnasium with wall bars and a range of apparatus. The lowest floor was given over to a sizeable swimming pool in an attractive pillared hall. A steam room occupied one corner of the pool area, and day beds and cushioned benches completed the furnishings. All was done to the highest quality, and the whole place was redolent with privilege and luxury. We were both much impressed, although Mr Portman had to explain to me the meaning and purpose of the steam room, as they were in short supply in Devon.

Finally, he led us into the gymnasium and indicated a door in the far corner. ‘The changing room is over there, ladies. Don’t worry, as there will be no men in it at this time in the evening. Strip down to the last level of decency, if you please. We will be performing some choreographed movements that require as much freedom for manoeuvre as possible.’

And so it proved.

Over the next two hours, we huffed and puffed our way around chokeholds, jujitsu throws, and various blows and strikes to the vulnerable parts of the body. Mr Portman showed us how to deal with an assailant grasping us around the neck from behind, swinging a punch from the front, and, most alarming, a knife thrust to the stomach.

Then we moved on to wrestling holds, in case an assailant threw us to the ground, and the vulnerable pressure points on the male body. One of which was already well known to us.

Inevitably Georgina peppered this element of the exercise with much eye-rolling and the occasional louche remark as she grappled with our instructor. Nevertheless, it was a fascinating lesson, and, although we were hardly experts, by the end I think both of us were confident we could do more than just scream if the worst happened. Indeed, I felt that had the Francombe assault occurred after this session, then I might have triumphed without Sir Tommy’s assistance.

At ten o’clock, Mr Portman suggested that we had done enough. Then he added, ‘However, before we finish, I wanted to give you both one of these.’ At this, he walked over to a chest next to a set of wall bars. Opening a drawer, he withdrew something and returned to where we were standing. Opening his palm, he held out two silver hat pins. ‘Please take one each.’

I picked mine out of his hand. It was noticeably heavier and more robust than a normal pin and had a wide circular head the size of a guinea at one end that fitted snugly into the palm of my hand. Altogether, it was five inches long at least.

‘If you are going into a situation that carries a degree of threat, then please wear a hat. And secure it with this hat pin. As a last resort, place it against your assailant’s body and drive it in with a palm thrust. Into the leg or arm will distract them so you can run. Into the ear or eye will kill them.’

I looked at him and then at Georgina. For once she seemed shocked into silence as he continued. ‘I hope that this evening has been useful to you, and I most fervently hope that you never have the need to put any of your new learning into practice. Please get changed and make your way upstairs again. Mrs Beaufort, Miss Felix, it has been a pleasure.’ He shook our hands and turned to leave the gymnasium by the way we had entered.

‘Shame,’ said Georgina as we repaired to the changing room. Once inside, she turned to me and pouted a little.

I raised my eyebrows at her, but I knew what she was thinking and could not disagree. Watching Mr Portman’s muscles flex and bulge as he demonstrated the fighting arts had been very diverting, and at times I had found myself idly speculating about what he would look like with those athletic clothes removed. As I returned from my reverie, I could see a look in Georgina’s eye that indicated misbehaviour was about to make its appearance.

‘Would you like to have a swim, Mary?’ she asked.

‘No, Georgina. We should be getting dressed.’ I tried to sound firm.

‘But the pool is just one floor down, and there’s no one else down here at this time of night. Mr Portman said so. They’re all in the rooms upstairs. And we’re so overheated.’ She leaned forward and pulled at the front of my camisole. The material moved over my nipple, causing it to stand up rather obviously. ‘Poor Mary, so flushed and hot,’ she whispered and met my eye.

My resistance wavered and then crumbled in the face of her gloriously naughty expression. The woman was irresistible when she put her mind to it.

Arm in arm and giggling to ourselves, we crept downstairs. The swimming pool looked delightful, its motionless silver surface steaming gently in the silent pillared room. Something about the tranquillity of the place quietened us as well, and, with a whisper or two, we removed our remaining clothes and slipped naked into the water. After our exertions upstairs, the sensation of the cool silky water was delicious, and we slowly stroked up and down for a few lengths.

After a while, I stopped at the shallow end, near the door through which we had entered. Hearing a splash, I turned and saw Georgina climbing the wide marble steps at the far end. She posed nude and glorious for a moment at the top of the flight, then gestured towards the steam room and collected a white towel from a pile before opening the door and disappearing inside.

I have always enjoyed swimming and slowly made my way up and down the pool for another few minutes. Just as I was thinking I would join Georgina for my first steam room experience, I heard the faint sound of voices drifting over from the stairwell outside. I sat waist-deep on the steps at the deep end and cocked an ear. Yes, men’s voices laughing and definitely getting louder.

At the same time, I realised I could hear another sound coming from the steam room. A low moaning as though someone was in pain. Concerned as I was by the approaching voices, I was also suddenly anxious for Georgina too. She had been alone in there for at least ten minutes. Had she been overcome by the heat? I splashed out, picked up a towel, and walked quickly to the door, my breasts moving gently with the motion.

A waft of stiflingly hot air swept past me as I opened it. Inside, two large candles lit the interior dimly, and I saw two stepped pine benches built onto the wooden walls. Georgina was lying flat on her back on the uppermost bench directly opposite me, and the cause of the noise was rapidly apparent. Mr Portman was fucking her vigorously, his backside pumping between her widely spread legs, his powerful shoulders flexing as they supported his weight.

They both turned their heads to look at me. Georgina attempted an apologetic grin, but it was clear Mr Portman was too far gone for any restraint. As I watched, Georgina’s hands reached out and grasped his muscular buttocks, pulling him deeper into her and whispering encouragement as her own spend approached. He came seconds later, grunting and thrusting hard into her as she cried out and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her hips kicked violently upwards as her own climax broke over her.

I felt a strong rush of arousal. In the soft yellow light of the candles, the scene looked both beautiful and primeval. A powerful, handsome man and a desirable and receptive woman giving in to their natural drives. Had the news from outside not been more pressing I would surely have joined them, especially when Mr Portman pushed back onto his knees to show his fine glistening cock in profile and still fully erect.

He looked at me for a long moment, well aware of his display, and I realised that I was still holding the towel rather than wearing it.

‘Someone’s coming,’ I said.

This produced a predictable snigger from certain quarters, but alarm immediately showed on Mr Portman’s face.

‘What?’

‘I heard voices outside. On the stairs.’ I wrapped the towel around me as he stood up and paced over to the door of the sauna, his cock bouncing jauntily. Even as he did so, we heard the double doors at the far end of the pool burst open and the shouts and calls of a group of young men echoing around the pillars.

‘Damn,’ said Mr Portman, his voice low as he opened the door a crack and peered out. ‘I recognise them. It’s four young officers from the Blues and Royals. They must have been drinking upstairs and decided to have a late swim.’

‘Well, we can just hide in here until they’ve gone,’ whispered Georgina, who had joined us.

Portman turned to her. ‘And if they decide to take a steam bath? They almost certainly will. I’ve often seen them in here with a couple of bottles of cold Hock.’ He looked at us both. ‘It’s serious for me. Ladies are not allowed down here, and if we are discovered, I will certainly lose my place.’

As he finished these worrying remarks, we heard more shouting followed by four loud splashes.

‘They’ve stripped off and are naked in the pool. I’d say they are drunk,’ Mr Portman reported, his eye still at the crack as the noise of further splashing and horseplay reached us.

‘We must create a diversion.’ The words were out of my mouth before I realised. ‘Something to distract the gentlemen so that you can slip away.’ I looked at him, but he frowned at this suggestion.

‘But that would mean disclosing your own presence here. And trouble for yourselves.’

Georgina chimed in at this point. ‘We are not members, Mr Portman. They can only throw us out once.’

Still he hesitated. ‘Ladies, please consider this carefully. They are drunk and headstrong young men. And you are barely covered.’ He gestured vaguely at our towels.

He was right. They stretched from above our breasts to mid-thigh but offered nothing more than that in the way of protection.

I looked at Georgina, who was wearing a dangerously innocent expression. She slowly reached out and quite deliberately pulled my towel downwards, exposing my bare nipple. She drew her fingernail over it. It stood up immediately, sending a shiver through me.

‘What say you, Mary? Should we form up to receive cavalry?’ Her grin was utterly infectious as she exposed my other breast and stroked again. The sensations went straight to my cunny. Aroused as I was by her vigorous rutting with Mr Portman, the amorous attentions of four strong young horsemen was an engaging thought to say the least.

‘Ye gods, ladies, are you sure?’ Mr Portman was appalled and thankful in equal measure, I think.

‘Oh yes. I really think we are,’ I replied, suddenly confident and fizzing with excitement. Pulling the towel up again, I looked at Georgina. ‘Ready?’

She rolled her eyes at me in agreement, managing to look both horrified and lustful in a single glance. ‘Tally ho! For Blighty and Mr Portman,’ she whispered, and with a last grin at his shocked face, she pushed the door open and we both stepped out.

To say that our appearance created a stir in the pool would be something of an understatement.

The men had obtained an inflated ball and appeared to be playing some kind of game at the deep end. In fact, as we stepped through the door, the ball bounced out of the pool and rolled towards us, stopping at my feet. I bent down to pick it up and, smiling, asked, ‘Is this your ball, gentlemen?’ before tossing it back into the water. It landed with a flat smack amongst them and was ignored completely as they stared, mouths agape, at our sudden appearance.

Unfortunately, the action of throwing the ball somehow loosened my towel and it fell down, landing behind me. There was a gasp as my nakedness and tattoo were revealed.

‘Miss Felix, bend over and pick that up at once,’ scolded Georgina.

‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Beaufort. Of course.’

I turned around and bent over, straight legged, to pick up the towel. Positioned as they were below us in the pool, I fear they got a very clear view of my buttocks and shaved cunny.

‘Bloody hell,’ one of them managed to utter, finally breaking the silence.

‘Gentlemen, we were just having a steam bath, and your splashing disturbed our peace, I’m afraid,’ I said, readjusting the towel.

‘Yes,’ agreed Georgina. ‘What are we going to do now, Miss Felix?’

My answer was drowned out by a collective roar and frenzied splashing as the four men launched themselves at the steps above which we were standing. They waded out and climbed towards us. I was delighted to see two were stiff-cocked already, and their compatriots were well on the way.

Georgina stepped forward, held up her hand, and spoke loudly and firmly.

‘Stop right there, gentlemen, if you please.’ Her magnificent effort at taking control of the situation would have been helped if her own towel had not chosen that moment to jettison itself from her shoulders and fall to the floor. I think it was the sight of her glorious red Chinese dragon as much as the voice of command that brought the men to a halt at the top of the steps.

‘Would I be right in thinking that you are military men?’ she continued, making no effort to retrieve the offending towel and standing there in all her gorgeous naked blonde glory, tattooed, pert-breasted, and bare-cunnied.

‘Indeed we are, ma’am. The Blues and Royals.’

It was the oldest one who had spoken. I guessed he was in his late twenties, a hairy, thick-set fellow of average height with dark features and a moustache but no beard. Not classically handsome but very serviceable. He grinned wolfishly at her. His stiff cock was standing vertical, parallel with his flat stomach, balls high and tight below. Georgina looked at it for a long moment and licked her lips.

There was a further pause whilst we waited for her response, and not for the first time I marvelled at her ability to take command of a situation. Then she answered him.

‘Cavalry, no less. Hmmm. Then I think perhaps we should have an inspection, don’t you, Miss Felix? Line your men up, Lieutenant.’

‘Captain, ma’am,’ he corrected, but he caught on quickly enough, and in truth, I think the other lads were grateful for his guidance. ‘Fall in, gentlemen. Come along. Let the ladies have a look at you.’ All three were grinning as they formed a line. The captain stood slightly apart at the right-hand end.

‘The men are ready for your inspection, ladies.’ He gave us a mock salute.

‘Present arms for Miss Felix, gentlemen.’ Giggling, Georgina finally retrieved her towel and wrapped it under her arms, then nodded to me.

I took a step towards the first in the line. He was a tall chap, well over six feet, and all in good proportion, with a lean horseman’s body. No more than twenty-two years old, I guessed, but still older than me. His cock was achingly hard.

‘Name?’ I asked.

‘Rollo Wilkinson.’

‘Are you a captain too?’

‘A lieutenant, Miss.’

‘That is a fine weapon, Lieutenant Wilkinson. And well primed, if I am any judge. Wouldn’t you say, Mrs Beaufort?’ Without thinking, I gently reached out to it, but Georgina intervened from her position behind me.

‘Don’t touch it, Miss Felix. Why, it might go off at any moment, I do believe.’

I nodded regretfully and moved on, stopping in front of the next young man. He was younger, brown haired, with hazel eyes and a pleasant open countenance. He looked terrified and excited in equal measure. I raised my eyebrows in an unspoken question.

‘William de Canston. Cadet.’

I glanced down, made complimentary noises, and then moved past him to the last of the three. He was a handsome fellow with a languid air and wet blond hair that fell forwards over his forehead. He smiled though his moustache and beard, revealing gleaming white teeth.

‘Lieutenant Gerald Fitz-Lloyd, Miss Felix.’

I nodded to him and turned back to Georgina.

‘All present and correct and standing to attention, Mrs Beaufort.’

She looked at the captain. ‘And you, sir?’

‘James Augustus Finch-Berkeley, Mrs Beaufort. The Lord Wight. Although my friends call me Gus.’

‘Well, Gus, The Lord Wight, Miss Felix and I are happy to consider whatever entertainment the cavalry has in mind for this evening, but I must tell you that we are much more attracted to generous men. You take my meaning, I’m sure.’ She raised her eyebrows at him.

He smiled at this and nodded his head. ‘My dear Mrs Beaufort, I quite understand. You can be assured on the point. The Blues and Royals endeavour to meet their obligations in every way.’

‘In that case, we have an accord.’ She smiled prettily at him. ‘I suggest that you and Mr de Canston accompany me to the daybed over there, whilst Lieutenants Wilkinson and Fitz-Lloyd escort Miss Felix to the one adjacent and …’

At this point, Georgina’s little speech ended in a squeak as the captain strode forward, his face set in a resolved expression, and flicked the towel off Georgina. He picked her up easily, and as she wrapped her arms around his neck, I caught her eye as she glanced over his shoulder and gave me a delighted grin before strong arms engulfed me and I was also lifted and carried in the same direction.

The following hour passed in something of a lustful blur as the randy young men had their way with us repeatedly.

Lieutenant Wilkinson brusquely told Fitz-Lloyd to wait as he laid me down against the raised backrest of the daybed and firmly spread my legs wide. With an admiring expletive, he eyed me for a moment and slowly traced his finger down the line of my serpent. Then, without hesitation, he bent forward and buried his mouth in my cunny, his tongue penetrating and licking in fine style as I gently moaned and thrust my hips up and onto his mouth.

Poor Fitz-Lloyd was temporarily reduced to spectating. Taking pity on him, I beckoned him forwards. He literally jumped at the chance and leant over, eagerly rubbing and mauling my big breasts and sucking my nipples. I loved it, pushing them upwards and whispering encouragement. Down below, the gallant cavalryman’s tongue and moustache were working their magic, and I knew I was running wet and ready for him.

I took Gerald’s cock in my hand. ‘Have you ever had it sucked?’ I whispered, stroking it firmly as he reluctantly disengaged from my painfully erect nipples.

‘No, Miss,’ he gasped.

I gently skinned him back and slipped my warm mouth over the swollen cock head. With one thumb and finger clamped tightly around the base to avoid a premature explosion, I worked him over with my lips and tongue. His climax came quickly, but I tightened my grip as he cried and shuddered and cried again, and nothing emerged into my mouth. After some further stimulation and more vocal exuberance from the young gentleman, I could wait no longer and pushed him away from me.

‘Sit down on that daybed, Gerald, and watch. Then it is your turn. But keep your hands off your cock in the meantime.’ I grinned at him, then reached down and lifted his partner’s head. His face was visibly wet from my juices, and as he raised himself up onto his knees, he stared at me like a starving wolf looks at a helpless faun. I looked at his cock and gave him a lustful sneer.

‘You can fuck me now, Rollo. Good and hard while Gerald watches. And come inside me. I want it all.’

Just saying the words raised me to fever pitch, and I splayed my legs wide as he drove his cockhead deep into me. I think I screamed; certainly the emotion and sensation completely overwhelmed me as his weight pressed down and his mouth met mine in a passionate open-mouthed kiss.

‘Mary, you’re exquisite,’ he mumbled into my neck as his hips pumped away, and I fear I may have drawn blood on his back as I cried and bucked underneath him. The sheer arousal of the moment meant any attempt at longevity was doomed, and as I came, he pumped spurt after spurt deep into me, crying and groaning.

Slowly and breathlessly we calmed, and he disengaged. Looking to my left, I saw that Georgina was on her hands and knees on the daybed next to us. Sitting in front of her, his legs far apart and his cock deeply embedded in her mouth, young William de Canston was getting a lesson that he was unlikely to forget. His expression was an absolute picture.

Behind her, The Lord Wight was fucking steadily and expertly, his thighs hitting her buttocks with hard, regular smacks, making them ripple and flex. I am not sure he would have been grinning so delightedly had he known he was pounding into Mr Portman’s come, but least said, soonest mended, as my mother used to say.

‘We’re the women your mother warned you about, William,’ I called.

‘She was wrong,’ he managed to utter, then stared as I turned my attention to Mr Fitz-Lloyd, who was now standing by the bed ready for his turn. He gestured at Georgina.

‘Please, Miss Felix, like that?’

‘What a naughty boy,’ I cooed and, turning over, raised myself onto all fours and spread my knees, presenting him with a view of my rounded derriere, pink bum hole and enflamed cunny lips.

Face down, I wriggled a little, which produced an almost inhuman moan from the fellow, followed by a frenzied and fumbled attempt to mount me. I teased him by wriggling again before Rollo leaned over and smacked my backside hard with his hand.

‘Hold still, Mary. And more haste, less speed from you, Lieutenant.’ He laughed. ‘Take your cue from The Lord Wight. He has it, sir.’

Taking pity on him, I held steady until we were properly horsed. And indeed, he did settle down into a fine brisk rhythm, reaching forward and underneath to clasp my swinging breasts. We fucked in fine style for a minute or so and then he came, praising God most noisily, it must be said, provoking guffaws of laughter from Rollo and Gus.

The evening wore on. The gentlemen swapped beds so that each of them fucked us both. The second occasion provided much lengthier enjoyment, and all of them came back for thirds after a short rest and a glass of Hock.

‘An absolute credit to the British Army,’ as Georgina said later.

At some point, I saw Mr Portman slipping quietly past us in the shadows on the far side of the pool. I feared our reputation with him might not recover, but, as I pointed out in the cab going home, our reputation with Her Majesty’s cavalry seemed to be beyond reproach.

Laughing, Georgina held up her bag, which contained a contribution totalling almost ten pounds from our gallant cavalrymen. It was a notable sum. ‘How right you are, Mary. We might be sore, but we are solvent, and that’s a good lesson for you. If you ever take on a private client, make sure they are rich.’

I looked out of the window of the hansom. It was well after midnight and Pall Mall was quiet, the windows in the buildings dark and just the occasional gaslight offering a pool of light. A cab slowly clopped by, going in the other direction, and I wondered what its occupants would think if they knew what we had been up to. I had been at Arundel Court for more than a year now and had completed a number of commissions for Hector, and the thought made me reflective for a moment.

‘Are we whores, Georgina?’ I asked.

‘Good God, no, dear. We are courtesans. A much better thing to be.’

I smiled in the darkness at this typical response. She was irrepressible and wonderful. I slipped my hand into hers and she squeezed it and turned to me.

‘Are you having regrets?’ she asked.

I shook my head. ‘No. Honestly, I enjoyed tonight very much, and I enjoy the work for Hector. I really do. You were right when you said that we are free spirits in a world full of men’s rules. I can see no reason not to take my pleasures where I find them, and if the good Lord has given me the looks and character to be a courtesan, then I think I am beholden to be the best I can possibly be.’

‘Bravo, Mary. And remember we are not just any courtesans. We are courtesans by appointment to His Majesty’s Government and perform in defence of the Realm.’ She sat up straight, saluted, and said this in a rising tone that had us both laughing. She raised the bag again and gently swung it from side to side. ‘To the bank in the morning, Mary. Every deposit you make helps to secure your future, and heaven knows we’ve earned it tonight.’

‘What about you and Mr Portman, anyway?’ I asked.

‘When I opened the door, he was just in there, Mary, all hot and muscular, and with just a towel over his groin. I couldn’t resist him. I thought we might manage a quick one before you came in.’

I leant back, smiled, and resumed my study of the night-time streets of London as I listened to Georgina chattering, and we headed back hand in hand to Arundel Court.

My simple life in Devon felt a very long way away.