Aphrodite's Necklace

by Anh Leod

  Soon, abnormally cool hands touched her own face and Emily closed her eyes to receive the woman’s kiss. She felt a surge of heat through her body, as if the blood vessels by her mouth had received an injection of fire, which then spread through her veins, even stronger than in the carriage.

  Her feminine juices let down and her thighs softened, as if to receive a man. The strange woman’s hands left her face and traveled down steadily to her breasts, then her hands. She pulled Emily toward the swing.

  “Show me your pleasure. I delight in it.”

  Another woman was there, but her hands were warm as she undressed Emily, who felt stony and unblinking, yet ready for passion’s embrace. When Emily was naked, the other woman pushed her into the cloth seat of the swing and placed her hands on soft ropes braided with garlands of bright flowers, both unseasonal and new to Emily’s experience. They smelled of a floral fragrance but also of sex.

  She leaned her head back as the woman helped her put her feet through slings, so that her womanflesh was exposed to the room. Somehow though, the ceremony of it quieted her and she wasn’t afraid.

  The woman went away then and she saw William had a helper now too, taking off his shirt then undoing his trousers.

  But the lady in red, she had seated herself in a chaise on the other side of the fire and regarded them steadily in turn.

  “Embrace,” she commanded, when William was undressed.

  Emily could do no more than watch, caught in the slings as she was, but she saw nothing but excitement and approval in his eyes as he stepped toward her.

  “I feel so warm,” she whispered.

  “Passion makes it so,” the lady in red responded. “Even at the end of an English winter.”

  William knelt before Emily and she saw his eyes flash as he bent his head to her cunny. He closed his mouth on her and she gasped, bowing her hips toward his questing tongue.

  “Is it sinful?” she cried out.

  “No, child. You are under the spell of the pentacles and can be generous to each other in a way I would imagine you’d never be otherwise, poor little repressed souls.”

  Emily bit back a moan as William’s tongue dipped across a particularly marvelous part of her anatomy.

  “You needed to be schooled properly,” the woman said in her husky voice. “Relax, little mortal.”

  William’s tongue bathed Emily in swirling ecstasy. Time and time again he brought his tongue across her pleasure nub and she writhed in the seat, clutching the ropes wreathed with flowers. As she crushed the blooms their heady scent filled the room and her head felt full of bubbles, no rational thought left. She was all sensation, dictated by William’s hot mouth and questing tongue.

  She felt her throat go dry after a timeless interval and kicked against the straps, then pulled her legs apart as far as she could, straining to push her cunny even more fully against his mouth. Three times she strained, then waves of pleasure broke over her body, leaving her bucking and quivering against the suspended swing. She moaned low in her throat. William lapped the juices from her, causing ripples of sharp pleasure to radiate from her cunny.

  As she came back to herself, her breathing was harsh in her ears and when she opened her eyes, she saw the lady in red still watched, a faint smile on her wide mouth.

  “Bravo,” the lady murmured. “I have schooled you well for sensual love.”

  Emily swallowed hard. “It isn’t enough for him to merely please me,” she ventured.

  “Then you must please him,” the lady replied.

  William’s face turned to the lady. His chest rose and fell rapidly from his exertion, but what came out of his mouth was so like him. “With your permission?” he asked.

  The woman smiled and nodded, raising her elegant fingers to him.

  He bowed slightly, then turned back and unhooked the straps that held the swing’s seat in one place. It rocked back. Emily’s legs were still firmly apart, but there was room for him to place his knees on the seat. He looked down at her, then appeared to notice his cock was inches higher than her cunny.

  She released her tight hold on the ropes and ran her fingers lightly down his cock. It was heavier, fuller than before, as if he was even more aroused. Magnificent, she thought and could have spent hours just touching him, but he had other ideas in mind.

  He leaned down and embraced her. When his full weight was atop her, he said, “Oh, now I see. There are more straps underneath, for my feet.”

  Wordlessly, Emily urged him to find his way to her. She was stretched nearly to the point of pain as he thrust home, despite her readiness. But then his cock rubbed against some tender-tense place inside her and her rationality shattered into mere random thoughts. The swing rocked them gently back and forth in tandem with his thrusts.

  His arms were braced against the back of the swing, stretching the fabric and sweat began to dew his chest. Emily leaned forward and licked across his breast, tasting the tang of sweat and salt.

  The lady in red made a noise of appreciation. Despite Emily’s usual modesty, the knowledge of an observer did nothing to reduce her pleasure. In fact, the lady’s vocalizations made her sense the web of approval holding them together and she felt warm and safe. Loved even, in an impersonal way.

  She bit William’s nipple, as if to draw even more of him into herself. He thrust deeper, harder into her. She was defenseless against his onslaught, caught as she was by the swing.

  Her body began to draw into itself, all of her consciousness focused on that tiny point of pleasure between her legs and William’s long journey back and forth in her cunny. Her legs stretched even farther apart and her very heart trembled as she smelled the musky scent their coupling made.

  An approving murmur from outside her little world of pleasure could have come from anyone. Somehow, Emily couldn’t ignore it and was taken a little back into herself. She opened her eyes and saw the lady in red, her skin sparkling again like that night at the party, standing above William. She held the necklace above him and the pearl drop floated back and forth, mesmerizing Emily.

  As William bucked and moaned in advance of his orgasm, the lady began to chant.

  “Love and pleasure, oh yes, pleasure and love/ the owners receive the relief they dream of./Aphrodite commands you/the universe obeys,/these lovers have made it/their pleasure love has lit.”

  Emily felt a surge of gold-flecked waves rush over them. She cried out as William’s seed pulsed into her, convulsing with her own orgasm, mingling her soul with the waves created by the lady’s strange spell. It went on and on, so much pleasure that her mind couldn’t stand it. She lost consciousness.

  Chapter Four

  Emily stirred and blinked. Half-asleep, but knowing she wasn’t alone, she lifted her arms and put them around William’s warm back. His head nuzzled her neck. She smiled and his tongue moved up the side of her face, so lightly it left a trail of moist heat against her cheek and temple. When it reached her ear, her eyes opened wide.

  Her palms dropped to her side. Fabric, like bunched sheets, felt cool under her hands. She pushed against William, who muttered indistinctly and rolled to one side. The scent of lavender rinse was thick in the air.

  They were in her very own bed. She pulled her thighs together, her limbs no longer imprisoned in the swing’s apparatus.

  Pushing aside the sheets, she raised herself on her elbow and pulled the bed curtains apart. Her room was bathed in weak March sunlight.

  She stood on wobbly legs, looking around. Surely she hadn’t dreamt it. They had been in that lady’s house. The last thing she remembered was the woman standing over them and Emily blushed to remember how a witness to their lovemaking hadn’t bothered her.

  Another woman’s hand had stroked her lover’s back, while he was inside her and she hadn’t cared. What a world of shameless sensuality there was to explore. Was that really true? Did she really feel that way? She folded her arms around herself, feeling exposed.

  Turning, she noted their clot
hing was in a neat pile on a chair. Pawing through it, she discovered the necklace was nowhere to be found. The lady had it. Emily remembered seeing the pearl drop hanging over their heads. Either she’d had a very strange dream or the lady kept it. She shivered with the memory and cold.

  Somehow, she was certain the lady had it in her possession now. There were no more worries from that quarter and no chance of selling it to benefit the Rogers household either. She grabbed her chemise from the pile and pulled it on, then her stockings.

  After stirring the coal in the grate, she quickly cleaned herself with the water in her washbasin and a towel. Then she went to the bed and poked at William.

  “You need to go,” she hissed. “It must be close to teatime.”

  He murmured something indistinct and burrowed deeper beneath the covers. The life of a butler didn’t leave much time for relaxing, she imagined and this must be a rare treat for him. But she couldn’t risk their being caught.

  She might be forced to marry him, or worse. Though what was worse she couldn’t imagine. Where would a butler’s wife live? Could they have wives? He was paid so little. Compared to her family’s income from Papa’s work and investments, his income might as well be nothing. If her father found out about them, William would be turned out without a reference anyhow.

  A shudder ran through her with the realization of the potential consequences of her actions. What had gotten into her? There had been some strange spell over her, but now it was removed and she saw the truth clearly for the first time. William Coxe was a mere lowly butler and until her father’s recent setbacks, she had been destined for an aristocratic marriage. She still had high prospects, if only she forgot this interlude had ever occurred.

  Forget it she must, or her life as she knew it would be over.

  As she leaned over him and touched his back, William turned over. Meeting her eyes, he scrambled. His flesh touched the carved mahogany headboard.

  “Sweet Lord in heaven,” he muttered. “I’ve got silver to polish!”

  * * * * *

  Aphrodite woke abruptly in her bed, where she had retired after a bacchanalia with seven or so of her male followers, fed by the sensual energy created by two lovers who found genuine ecstasy in their joining. Innocent pleasures created great power. She and her men had fucked for hours and it had been glorious. Her immortal flesh still tingled with the joy of so many orgasms.

  Now, however, the energy was gone. That glow of sexuality had vanished and the golden chain attaching her essence thinly to each of her followers was bereft of two worshippers.

  What had gone wrong? She pushed aside Jack’s heavy slumbering form and stepped onto the stool placed at the side of her high bed. In her dressing chamber, she pulled on an embroidered robe. Her hair was a tangled mess and she impatiently pushed it out of her face as she stepped into slippers and left the room.

  A few minutes later, she was standing on the roof above her house, looking out over London. The acrid scent of coal was thick on the air, even high above the streets. She saw the winking lights of lanterns in the streets and wind rushed around her, though she could hear no human voices, at least none crying out for her assistance. What had gone wrong with her young lovers?

  Lost in thought, she scarcely heard the attic window creak open some time later.

  “Ma’am,” Gawaine said. “It is full dark. Would you like to come in for a cup of ambrosia?”

  “No,” she said, her sullen tone evident even to her ears.

  “Would you like me to have the serving girls fill your bath?”

  “No,” she said again.

  With a most inappropriate sigh, he hoisted his muscular form through the window and climbed gingerly onto the roof. Aphrodite noticed he clutched a chimney pot even as he tried to straighten himself into his usual erect posture.

  “Perhaps a dessert?” he suggested. “Cook has invented the most marvelous-smelling chocolate cake. You love chocolate.”

  “Don’t tell me what I love,” she muttered. “Goddesses don’t need food.”

  “Of course, my lady. But it really smells wonderful,” he wheedled.

  She sighed, feeling an empty spot inside her that could well be filled by an application of chocolate. It was as close to ambrosia as mortal food came and she wasn’t in the mood for the immortal beverage. Losing followers made her terribly depressed.

  “What did I do wrong?” she asked Gawaine, because even though he was a mere servant, he was surprisingly insightful at times.

  “Your necklace spell, you mean?” he inquired.

  “Mmmm,” she nodded.

  “Butlers don’t consort with the young ladies of the house as a general rule,” he told her. “You didn’t take class differences into account when you matched the two. Perhaps you disrupted the natural order too greatly.”

  “I didn’t choose the butler for the chit.”

  “Really?” Gawaine said. He stepped even closer to the chimney as a gust of wind rattled by.

  Secretly she had to admit to herself that Gawaine sometimes gave her more credit than she deserved, but she’d never tell him that.

  “He was the one the girl wanted,” she told him. “I chose her alone. The rest was her doing.”

  “Perhaps she only craved him sexually.”

  She waited for him to say more, but he was silent. After a moment, she gave in. “So you are saying he is an inappropriate choice?”

  “They could both lose everything to be together.”

  “Love should be a grand gesture.” She lifted her arms, her gown floating around her.

  “Is there love? Or is there sex?” His tone flattened her.

  “Love, most definitely. In the spell I said lovers, not fuck friends.”

  Gawaine’s lips thinned. “Of course, my lady.”

  She felt a wave of affection for him. Even if he wasn’t exactly her follower, he was her loyal servant. “You are such a prude, Gawaine.”

  “I am very attuned to my society, ma’am.”

  The implication being that she wasn’t. Bloody Gawaine.

  “It is as if taking the necklace from them reversed the spell, rather than ended it. Otherwise I’d still be able to feel them, happy and together but not under the spell.”

  “What is the reverse?”

  “One must only look to the Tarot to see the reverse of the Queen of Pentacles. Sexual cruelty, lack of trust, suspicion,” she mused. “All quite the opposite of what I’d intended.”

  “What is your intention now?”

  She shrugged, a gesture she’d picked up from mortals and quite liked. “What would you suggest? This William Coxe is not so different from you.”

  He spoke through bared teeth. “Promise me, my lady, that you will never put a charm on me.”

  Aphrodite tossed her hair. “I don’t have to promise anything to a mortal.”

  “I’ll leave you,” he cautioned.

  She didn’t want that. His efficient household management made living here almost tolerable. “All right. I’ll leave you be.” For now.

  “Thank you,” he said in a crisp tone. “As for my opinion, I think you should leave them alone to find their own way through the aftereffects of your interference.”

  Aphrodite bit at her lip, tasting the ambrosia that ran in her veins. “They might remain apart if I don’t interfere.”

  “They should be allowed free will. But—” he paused. “Somehow I think they will find their way. I cannot believe their glow when they came here was completely due to the spell. They found something in each other and perhaps they can find it again.”

  “So I may have them back?”

  “Yes, ma’am. It is entirely possible. I will monitor the situation for you.”

  “Thank you, Gawaine.”

  He inclined his head.

  She pursed her lips, then stared at him. “You’d best go in. It is a bit slippery out here.”

  “May I fetch you anything, ma’am?” Supercilious to the last, her servan
t raised his eyebrows.

  She acquiesced with a sigh. “Have the girls heat my bath and send for three of my prettiest boys to wash me.”

  His lips curved. “As you wish.”

  * * * * *

  “Then you’d better go,” Emily told William. “We could be discovered at any moment.”

  His fine lean body leapt off the bed.

  “Quiet!” she told him in a low whisper, afraid the floor’s reverberations would attract attention. His cock was at rest now, but she followed it with her eyes, still feeling a longing for his magnificent phallus to be inside her.

  He softened his steps as he moved past her. His back turned, he bent to the chair.

  Goodness, he had a fine ass, probably from going up and down steps all day. She felt moisture pooling between her thighs, as if he were an appropriate choice for her, already her husband and lawfully her lover.

  The thought must be pushed away, she told herself, gathering her corset. Another would wed her, one with prospects. She struggled with the thing, but of course couldn’t put it on by herself.

  “Here,” William said darkly, once his trousers were on and his dignity was somewhat restored. “Let me help you.”

  “I could call the maid, tell her I’d just been resting.”

  “She’d know you had help taking it off,” he told her in a no-nonsense tone.

  “Don’t talk to me like a child.” she snapped, suddenly finding his butler-voice terribly annoying. It was so different from his lover-voice, not that she ever wanted to hear that again. Or did she? Where had this confusion come from? It made her head ache.

  His eyebrows met at the bridge of his nose. “I’m trying to point out the realities to you.”

  “I know what the reality is.” She thrust the corset to him. “I gave my purity to you and for what?”

  “The pleasure of it.” He moved behind her. “Now be quiet so I can lace you into this thing.”

  “It wasn’t that much pleasure,” she retorted. “It hurt too.”