“Oh Papa,” wailed Lydia, “Why will you not allow me to attend the reception tonight to welcome the regiment to Meryton? Charlotte says that all the officers have been invited, and that afterwards there will be dancing!”

Mr Bennet lowered his newspaper and looked sternly at his daughter.

“Because, Lydia, last time you consorted with those officers, you returned with your dress covered in distasteful stains, and no undergarments at all.”

“Mama, please tell him,” pouted Lydia.

Mrs Bennet looked flustered and fiddled with her embroidery.

“I’m sure, Mr Bennet, that Lydia has learnt her lesson,” she suggested nervously.

“I doubt that very much indeed,” said Mr Bennet firmly, “she is far too much like her mother.” He raised his newspaper, signifying that the conversation was at an end.

At which point Mrs Bennet had a fit of hysterics, and Lydia flounced out of the drawing room, ignoring the giggles of her sisters.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Banging shut the door of her bedroom, Lydia lay on the bed and sulked. The annual muster of Colonel Forster’s regiment in Meryton was always an event of great excitement to the young ladies of the vicinity, bringing as it did an influx of young single gentlemen in uniform, all keen to disport themselves before the admiring members of the opposite sex.

For Lydia, it was their uniforms that had attracted her to the young officers right from the start. She could still remember the first time she had seen them march into the church on Sunday morning, dressed in their finest scarlet coats, tight cream breeches and high boots that glistened in the sunlight. She had felt herself become quite moist between her legs, and it was only a stern look from her eldest sister Jane that had prevented her from putting her hand up under her skirt and fingering herself with excitement. As it was, she had several times been distracted by the large bulge in the breeches of Lieutenant Denny and had to be reminded of her place in her prayer book. Since then, whenever she saw an officer in uniform her juices welled up as if by magic, often running uncontrollably down her leg.

Now, as she lay on her bed, she closed her eyes and pictured Lieutenant Denny in his scarlet coat and shiny boots. In her mind, she chose to picture him without his breeches, his manhood standing up proudly in front of him, all eight throbbing inches of it. Once this enticing image was fixed in her mind, she hitched up her skirts and plunged her fingers into her moist quim, where they were soon swimming in her copious fluids. Curving up her fingers to find her special sensitive spot, she used her other hand to play with her hard little button. As she approached her point of release, she was forced to stuff the corner of her bedsheets into her mouth to stifle her cries of ecstasy.  

Then, pensively licking her sticky fingers, she meditated on a plan. If her father would not let her meet the officers at the planned dinner-party, then she would have to visit them by herself. A devious plan soon occurred to her.

~~~~~~~~

During luncheon the following day, Lydia announced that she had a headache and would be spending the afternoon in her room.

“When I have a headache, I find a long walk to be a far superior restorative,” announced her sister Mary primly.

“Well, Mary, I do think Lydia knows what is best for her own health,” observed Mrs Bennet.

“Nonsense,” said Mr Bennet, whose instinct was always to disagree with his wife, on the very reasonable basis that she was almost invariably wrong. “Mary is quite correct. A good walk will clear your head most satisfactorily, Lydia. I suggest you set out immediately after you have finished your luncheon. Just take care to be back in time for supper.”

“Oh Papa,” pouted Lydia, but inside she was thoroughly pleased with herself. Had she directly proposed taking a walk, her father would have immediately smelt a rat and insisted on her remaining indoors. But her family had responded to her suggestion exactly as she had predicted, and she was now free to roam as she pleased.

As a final deception, she set off down the lane in the direction of Netherfield, but as soon as she was out of sight of their home of Longbourn she doubled back by way of the fields and was soon heading in the opposite direction towards Meryton.  She knew that the officers would have lunched as usual in the private upper room at the inn and would likely be relaxing after the meal.

Arriving at the establishment in question, she asked the landlord to go upstairs and ascertain whether Lieutenant Denny was present. Returning from his errand, he informed her that the gentleman in question was indeed upstairs and had asked the young Miss Bennet to come up.

Ignoring the sniggers and ribald comments from the drinkers in the downstairs parlour, Lydia marched up the stairs, and knocked confidently on the door of the dining room. It was opened by one of the other officers.

“I say, Denny, your young lady is here to see you,” he announced.

“My dear Lydia, how delightful to see you,” said Denny, coming forward to meet her. “We were very sorry not to see you last night at dinner.”

“Mama refused to let me go,” pouted Lydia, “so I decided to come this afternoon instead.”

“I am delighted to see you at any time,” said Denny, bending to kiss Lydia’s proffered hand. “I think you met most of the other officers last time we were at Meryton, but I believe Captain Carter has yet to have the pleasure of an introduction.”

A strikingly tall and handsome young officer stepped forward and bowed low to her.

“I am most delighted to at last have the opportunity to make the acquaintance of the renowned Lydia Bennet,” he said. “All the officers of the regiment speak very highly of your charms and abilities.”

Lydia simpered at these words, affecting to ignore the stifled guffaws of the other officers.

“The pleasure is all mine,” she said.

“Won’t you come and sit with me?” said Captain Carter. He led Lydia to his seat and made her sit on his lap. Lydia could feel a substantial bulge in his tight breeches, and wriggled around, rubbing her plump bottom against it. She could feel the bulge swelling considerably.

Captain Carter offered her a glass of wine, which she took willingly.

“I must be careful not to spill it,” she said. “My papa will be most annoyed if I get any unsightly stains on my dress.”

“That would indeed be a shame,” said the Captain. “Maybe it would be best if you were to remove it altogether?”

“Oh Sir, you are very forward,” said Lydia, starting at once to undo the buttons. Very soon she was dressed in just her chemise, which did little to cover her little bosoms. She playfully slapped Captain Carter’s hand as he began to unlace the front of it, but this only served to encourage him, and very soon her two firm mounds were freed from their confinement. She giggled as he bent over and kissed them in turn, paying particular attention to her pert nipples.

 In turn, Lydia began to toy playfully with the buttons of the Captain’s red coat.

“What a lot of buttons you have, Captain Carter,” she purred. “How do you keep them so shiny? Do you polish them yourself?”

“I should say not,” said Captain Carter, “That’s Perkins’s job, he’s my batman, you know. Fine chap, Perkins, very thorough.”

By this time Lydia had managed to undo several of the shiny buttons. She put her hand inside the Captain’s jacket and began to stroke his chest.

“I wish I had someone to shine my buttons for me,” she murmured.

“I’d be delighted to look after your button, you saucy minx,” said Captain Carter. “I know what young ladies like you enjoy.” Without further ado he put his hand up under Lydia’s chemise and began to rub at the little button between her legs.

“Oh, Captain,” squealed Lydia, affecting to be horrified by his action. “How could you be so bold…oh my!” - this last as one of his fingers slipped inside her quim. She sighed with pleasure as he slipped in a second finger and tickled the insides of her moist passage.

“It would be a shame if your pretty chemise were to get stained too,” he suggested, “I fear your fluids are starting to run out already.”

Lydia took the hint, and obligingly wriggled her arms out of the lacy straps to enable him to pull the garment off over her head. She was now totally bare as she sat on Captain Carter’s lap. He continued to rub her private parts with one hand, while playing with her pert little bosoms with the other. Her pink nipples were standing up like two little strawberries.

By this time, most of the other officers were rubbing the front of their tight breeches, revealing some impressive bulges. As Lydia watched with delight, one of them unbuttoned himself and took out his manhood, which was standing to attention in fine military style. He smiled at Lydia as he stroked it proudly.

Lydia could feel Captain Carter’s own member pressing against her plump thigh. She undid his buttons and freed it from its confinement. She could not suppress a gasp of delight, as it proved to be of impressive length and girth, with a smooth rounded head. Bending over, she put the tip in her mouth, and licked at it with her tongue.

“Dammit, girl, you’re every bit as filthy as the chaps said,” exclaimed the Captain. “Why don’t you help me off with my boots so we can get down to business?”

Lydia was delighted to have the opportunity to handle the Captain’s military boots. She could not resist licking the shiny black leather as she undid the straps and pulled them down his calves. While he removed his jacket and shirt, she took one of the boots and rubbed it between her thighs against her extremely wet quim, leaving glistening trails of her juices across the soft leather.

“Clear the table, boys,” he ordered, removing his breeches, “make some room so I can give the girl a good rogering.”

The younger officers cleared a space on the table, and Lydia obligingly sprawled on her back across the tablecloth, her legs dangling off the edge. Captain Carter positioned himself between them and spread her thighs apart. She in turn pulled open her moist petals and showed him her welcoming hole. Taking his manhood in his hand, the Captain positioned the bulging helmet at her entrance, before thrusting his rod inside. He began to pump it in and out, his ball-sack slapping against Lydia’s thighs with each forward push.

Lydia accompanied his rogering with squeals of pleasure, her firm little bosoms bouncing back and forth in time with his enthusiastic thrusts. To her delight, one of the other officers stepped forward with his manhood in his hand and presented it to her mouth. She eagerly put her lips around it and licked it with her tongue, for all the world like her mother’s lapdog with a juicy bone.

Soon enough, the Captain let out an ecstatic cry and emptied his load into Lydia’s moist passage. Taking his cue from his senior officer, the other man took his rod out of Lydia’s mouth and rubbed it vigorously until he deposited a copious helping of thick fluid over her face, coating it in richly scented cream. Lydia shivered with pleasure as each sticky rope splashed onto her face, before licking her lips in order to collect as much of it as possible, and then swallowing it all with delight.

Several of the other younger officers were now lining up to take their turn, their rods proudly standing to attention. But just then there was a commotion by the door, and in walked Colonel Forster, the commander of the regiment. The younger officers stood at once to attention, several of them with an erect manhood incongruously projecting from the front of their breeches. Fortunately, the Colonel chose to ignore this flagrant breach of military protocol.

“At ease, men,” he ordered. “I hear there’s some special entertainment on offer this afternoon, eh?”

“Yes Sir,” announced Captain Carter, saluting his senior officer smartly, the effect being somewhat spoilt by the fact that he was without clothing of any kind. “Lydia Bennet, Sir.”

“Ah, yes, I knew I had good reason for ensuring the Regiment visited Meryton on a regular basis,” said the Colonel, unbuttoning his jacket.  “And I see you’ve been leading by example as usual, Captain. Good man, good man.”

“Mind you,” he went on, looking at Lydia sprawled across the table, white cream running out of her quim onto the tablecloth, “I don’t much like swimming in another chap’s river. How’s your tradesman’s entrance, girl?”

Lydia replied by rolling over onto her front, raising her plump buttocks and spreading her cheeks to show the Colonel the tight entry to her back passage.

“Dammit, that’ll do,” he said, pulling down his breeches. He took hold of Lydia’s hips and positioned himself between her thighs.

“Brace yourself, my dear,” he said, and pressed his shiny helmet against her tight hole. Fortunately, a great many gentlemen had previously pleasured themselves up Lydia’s back passage, so she had no worries about her ability to accommodate the Colonel’s manhood, which was of the long but slender variety. As he pushed forward, Lydia rocked back against him, and her hole expanded to allow his round knob to pop inside.  Once the knob was in, the rest followed easily enough, and soon the Colonel was vigorously rogering her, his full length going well up her back passage.

Lydia was enjoying this even more than being rogered in the more usual way. One of the younger officers was about to offer her his manhood to suck, but his companions stopped him.

“The Colonel gets sole use of any of the young fillies,” said one. “Don’t worry, when he’s finished we’ll all get a chance.”

Before long Lydia felt the Colonel thrusting harder and deeper into her, and with one final thrust and a groan he emptied his load into her backside. With a satisfied sigh he pulled out of her, and she felt his emissions dribbling out and running down her legs.  

“Very good, men, carry on,” said Colonel Forster, pulling up his breeches again and taking his jacket from the young subaltern who had been holding it. “And well done, young lady, I do like a nice tight rear end.”

Once the Colonel had left, the other officers felt able to get fully down to business. Soon Lydia found herself sitting in the lap of Lieutenant Denny, his manhood buried deep inside her, while accommodating another member down her throat and a further two in her hands. Once Denny had spent his load inside her, and her mouth had been filled with another tasty helping of cream, she rubbed the other two firm members against her pert bosoms until they were each covered with a healthy portion of ejaculate.

Now that her back passage had been well stretched, Lydia was eager to have it filled again. As there were still a number of officers who had yet to experience her charms, she decided she would have to service as many as possible of them together. Her father would be gravely displeased if she was not home in time for supper, so there was no time to be lost. She accordingly instructed one of the officers to lie down on the table while she mounted him in such a way that, by bending forward, another lucky gentleman was able to pleasure himself in her rear end simultaneously. With another in her mouth and one in each hand, she was thus able to satisfy five erect members at one time, which she felt must be some kind of record, in Meryton at any rate.

During a brief lull in the proceedings, she found a discarded red jacket and a pair of shiny boots, both of which she put on before mounting one of the officers and riding up and down on him as if he were a warhorse charging into battle. By this time, she was so full of fluids that each time the young gentleman thrust into her a fresh squirt of liquid was forced out of her quim and ran down over his thighs. Then, having at last exhausted her mount, and taken his own helping of ejaculate inside her, she encouraged several of the other officers to rub their members against the boots, until the shiny leather was coated in several new emissions. She then proceeded to lick the boots clean again, enjoying the taste of fresh cream as it slid down her throat.

Soon Lydia was running with fluids from both her front and rear passages, and her face, bosoms and stomach were all decorated with dollops of creamy dessert. Even so, several of the more vigorous young officers were still rubbing their members and apparently not yet exhausted. Lydia accordingly instructing them to stand in a semi-circle around her naked body, members in hand, as she reclined on a chair.

“Now cover me in your cream,” she instructed, “and whoever is the last to spill his load on me, will have to lick all it all off, as a forfeit!”

The young men all began to rub vigorously at their members, and one by one they spent their fluids all over Lydia. At last there were only two officers still in the game, named Henderson and Shipley, and Captain Carter started taking bets as to which of them would last out the longest. There were loud cheers, and some groans, as Shipley shot a huge spurt of emission onto Lydia’s thighs, leaving Henderson to finish by giving Lydia’s face a final serving of cream.

“Come on, Henderson, eat it all up!” cried the Captain. Henderson set to with unexpected enthusiasm, and lapped up substantial quantities of his companions’ emissions, paying particular attention to the icing that coated Lydia’s bosoms.  

It was now generally agreed that all were spent and satisfied. The question then arose as to how Lydia might best clean herself up before getting dressed and back to Longbourn in time for dinner. Despite Henderson’s best endeavours, her body was still well endowed with sticky fluid, so it appeared at first to be no simple task. After some discussion, it was concluded that the best solution would be to lead her into the stable yard of the inn and wash her down with water from the well, as if she were one of the horses. And so it was that an unclothed Lydia found herself exposed to the ribald remarks of the other patrons of that establishment, as several of the young officers sluiced her naked body with copious buckets of water in full view of anyone who happened to be passing.

Be that as it may, at last she was clean and dry and dressed again, and ready to return to Longbourn.  As she was finding it quite difficult to walk, both her front and rear passages being by this time somewhat chafed, Lieutenant Denny kindly offered to take her on his horse to the crossroads just south of her home. In return, she rubbed at his manhood as they rode along, and was pleased to see a substantial stain spread across his breeches as he spent himself one last time.

Fortunately, she was able to tiptoe back into the house unobserved and had almost half an hour to clean off any stray samples of fluid that had escaped the buckets. When she eventually joined her parents and sisters for supper, her father remarked on the fresh glow of her complexion.

“I do believe that your walk has indeed done you good, Lydia,” he observed.

“Thank you, Papa, it was indeed most invigorating,” she replied with a smile. “I do believe I will partake of some similar exercise again as soon as possible.”

Which I think it is safe to assume she did.