Playing at the Hell Fire club

RobynDominque

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The Lady Robyn Dominique, the 25th Marquessa Domnique, awaited her visitor; she knew that he was the son of her most obnoxious rival, the Earl of Wampon. The son was sent to gather information about the Marquessa. But what would happen would be much more fun indeed
The earl was very conservative and wanted very much to bar the marquessa from her seat in the House of Lords.
But the Marquessa would make sure the Earl would lose his seat and
 
This woman, a Marquessa, had somehow managed to manipulate her way into the House of Lords - something the Earl (Julian's father) was dead set against, as was his elder brother Rupert. He was sure Edward - the middle brother - would have disapproved as well, only Edward was off with the 89th (West Somersetshire) Regiment of Foot, putting down a rebellion in India somewhere in the northwest frontier.

There was nothing unusual in a young nobleman calling on the Marquessa to pay his respects - and even less unusual now that she was a "member" of the House of Lords, or very soon will be. Julian knew his job wasn't to prevent her from doing anything - he was merely a foot in the door. He couldn't hope to match his father, or even his older brothers, in politically savvy and machinations, but he was happy to do his part. He would call on her, pay his respects, chat about whatever she indicated she wanted to chat about (the weather was always a safe subject, or perhaps what the Queen was seen wearing on her most recent public appearance) - and quietly observe. Was he looking for anything specific? Hardly - he didn't know enough to know what he was looking for, but he was a very observant young fellow. And quite charming, or so he was told.

His calling card would have preceded him into the Marquessa's drawing room. "The Honourable Julian Alaric Thurston"

"My Lady" he bowed upon entering her presence ... it was automatic, and rightly so. If he'd had any time to think about it, to take in the vision sitting before him, he might have forgotten to bow, and stumbled over his words.
 
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Marquessa Robyn Dominique observed the young man entering her salon. He was very young and very thin. He had a vague air of almost feminine grace as he came up to her chair and bowed oh so properly before her.
"Hello, Mr. Julian Thurston," the Marquessa did not rise; that was proper etiquette for one of a higher social standing. "I know you are here to find out what you can for your Father, Earl Thurston. So you might as well ask me direct questions. And I will answer if I feel you and your father should know."
The marquessa could see that the man was looking her over. While thinking of the first question to ask.
 
The young man was literally stunned by her presence. She wasn't just beautiful, she was ... formidable.

A good Christian would not have allowed his gaze to rest so long upon her décolletage, but a healthy young man of 18 could not control the urge. And when he finally tore his eyes away from her breasts, he was met with her equally captivating face.

The words she spoke... they seemed scrambled inside his mind. Ask her direct questions? No, that was not his intent. His intent was to deceive, to pretend this was merely a long overdue social call. And to observe - to take note of anything which could be useful to his father.

"My Lady" he finally stumbled. "You misapprehend my purpose. My father - though his - he has made no secret of his conservative outlook - I am calling on you on my own accord, and only because it is expected that we of the ... ruling class .. observe all the proprieties which ..." He was having a great deal of difficulty maintaining focus. "Which.. propriety.. demands."

"I.. I myself.. w..wanted to.. you see I... I may be off to India soon.. a lieutenant's commission in the West Somersetshire Regiment.. my family... for generations.." he was literally becoming dizzy in her presence - his good Christian morals under assault by his natural male tendencies to want to possess the most desirable of women. "Before I departed ... wanted to meet you, to.. p...pay my respects"

It was like a playful puppy meeting a regal tigress in the wild and trying to pretend he was worthy of her respect. His commission had not yet been "arranged" for him.

"I would have shipped out already, but my mother..." NO, not your mother! She will have no respect for a mama's boy! "I mean, my parents.. and I.. decided my schooling... at Oxford.. at Christ Church College.. should take priority."

Young Julian was only vaguely aware he was rambling, and possibly making a fool of himself in trying to impress her. He paused only to take in a deep breath.

"I am obligated only to inquire after Your Ladyship's health and ... and ..." And what? "And ... I shall require my father to throw a ball.. in your honor... if Your Ladyship will consent."

A ball? For her? His father would never consent to such a thing. But Julian was determined to do something - anything - to get in her good graces.
 
Robyn Dominique smiled as she knew she was having the right effect on the young man
"I would never accept your father having a ball in my honour. Our mutual hatred for each other. would make any social event more of a duel of words and ideology. I, too, have had much schooling in the classics and in science. I can fake being a gentle lady. But I would much rather have a good discussion on any number of subjects, and your father hates that in women."
Marquessa Robyn looked at the boy
"So what subjects do you think you have a better grasp of than I do?"
She moved to let the boy see more down the cleavage of her dress.
"Oh, forgive me. Where are my manners? Would you like a cup of tea while we talk?"
 
"I.. could never .. hate you" the boy said, breathlessly. "As for my father... I do not care what he thinks. If you want a ball in your honor, I'll see to it myself." How he would accomplish this, no one could be sure, but he certainly meant every word he said.

As for discussing anything to which he was exposed in his schooling, the poor lad would be hard pressed to recite the alphabet at this point.

She moved to let the boy see more down the cleavage of her dress.
"Oh, forgive me. Where are my manners? Would you like a cup of tea while we talk?"

"Oh.. uh.. yes.. yes, please." He was aware his throat was dry, and the thought of some tea was a pleasant thing indeed. After all, he was as English as they came. Never, in a million years, would he suspect this gorgeous creature of ulterior motives.
 
The maid brought in the tea service and gently poured the tea into delicate china tea cups. She gave one cup to Julian and the other to the Marquessa
Julian's eyes widened as he stared at the erotic version of a French maid's outfit the maid wore.
"So what subjects did you excel in at Oxford?" She asked as she sipped her tea.
 
"So what subjects did you excel in at Oxford?" She asked as she sipped her tea.

"I was studying for ...." he hesitated. He had been preparing for the Church, but for some reason he didn't want to tell her that. It was most definitely a suitable avocation for the third son of a nobleman, but somehow it didn't seem fitting for her... "the law" he said. It was a lie, and Julian was not one prone to lies, but he was more than willing to make all manner of exception for the Marquessa. "Latin, seemed to come easy for me" he bragged, "but Greek... not so much. Otherwise, I might have considered the Church."

He sipped his tea, nervously - and nervously meant he sipped it much too quickly, despite the heat.

"I'm considering .. politics" he said - and even then he felt the overwhelming realization that he, should he enter the House of Commons, would still be somewhat beneath her as a member of the House of Lords.

If only.. if only he could somehow prove himself more equal to her, someone more worthy of her attention. But nothing came to mind, so he took another sip of tea while he strained his mind to come up with something. Anything, which might impress her. For this woman, he would give his life.
 
The marquessa watched as the boy talked on. She watched as the head began to droop.
"Julian, can you hear me?" and was awarded with a slow nod.
"Julian, you now lust after your mistress, me. You need to please her anyway you can. You must
tell her the truth at all times."
"You will need to return to this peaceful state every half an hour to receive more commands"
"Your nipples will become sore and puffy, and your waist will come in 1/4 of an inch"
"When you wake, you will not remember receiving any of these commands"
"The Marquessa snapped her fingers, and the boy's eyes fluttered open
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