Henry James Bennet, born to Thomas Bennet Esq of Longbourn, Hertfordshire, long after the county squire had abandoned hope of a male heir, was a boy used to the world being dominated by ladies of decisive character. His mother, although he loved her dearly, was indisputably noisy; his nearest sister in age if not in temperament, Lydia was loud. His oldest sister, Jane, was quiet and so calm, unless of course her twin sons were up to their usual nonsense. Henry was, like all of his class, educated at Eton and then decided to follow his father’s lead and go up to Peterhouse College, Cambridge, in the fifth year of the reign of His Majesty, King William IV. There he delighted in the beauty of the colleges, the tranquillity of the Backs, and the nights of lasciviousness and iniquity. Having discovered the forbidden, and yet very common, pleasures that could be experienced between two gentlemen at Eton, Henry continued his explorations when at Cambridge. He was aided in this by fellow enthusiasts from Eton in previous years who knew how to be safe, as being caught was a sufficient misdemeanour to risk being sent down, no matter one’s connections.
Henry’s connections had assured him of a very safe passage through society; his brother by marriage, Fitzwilliam Darcy, had spent hours with him playing chess, educating him on all points of the world and, of course, allowing him free rein of the magnificent Pemberley Library. His cousin by marriage, the Earl of Matlock, was glorious fun and taught him hunting and had paved his way through Eton by having a quiet word with the Provost, the Reverend Henry Bland, that young Henry was under his protection. Henry’s wildest brother by marriage, Captain George Wickham, who had seen action against the Corsican tyrant and in the rebellions in Ireland, was glorious fun and, amongst the more noble activities, had taught Henry how to be a crack shot with pistol, musket, and, most excitingly, the rifle. Wickham had also taken Henry to his first brothel (with permission of Darcy, apparently) and had explained the essential use of French Letters to avoid catching the French Disease amongst other things. Whilst Henry was undoubtedly more enamoured of the delights of the love that may not be spoken, he was also realistic and knew that he would have to marry and have heirs to the estate in time. Matlock’s younger brother, Maj. Gen. Richard Fitzwilliam (ret.), hero of Waterloo and other engagements and married to Anne, of the house of de Bourgh, was superb company and Henry learned so much about the continent and relations with them. He was also introduced to Colonel Richard Sharpe, an old colleague of Fitzwilliam’s, who re-taught him how to fire a rifle.
Thomas Bennet was aging gracefully and discussed the future with his son in his book room one evening after dinner over a glass of port.
“I wish to retire and hand things over to you, my boy.”
“Not yet, Papa, I beg you. I have to finish Cambridge and then go on my tour. Two or maybe three years more and then I will return and take over the estate as you wish,” Henry replied.
“Very well, my son. I know that Matlock and the General are planning to get you out in society properly after you finish at Cambridge. You can go through that circus, go to the continent, and then return here. Your mother and I will move to the house Darcy has for us on the Pemberley estate and leave you in peace once you are settled.” Thomas had never been able to refuse his son anything. “My only conditions are that you complete your studies, maintain your languages, and keep up your reading on estate management.”
Two days later, the aging Longbourn housekeeper, Mrs Hill, fussed, “Come on, Master Henry, the carriage to Cambridge is departing soon, and you’re not nearly ready. Your mother will never forgive me if I send you off without a decent meal. Jenny has packed your trunks, and Alan is driving the carriage. Cook has boxed up your favourite biscuits to keep you going for a while as well.”
To be honest, Henry was somewhat taken with young Jenny, but his brother, Darcy, had made it absolutely clear that taking advantage of one’s position was not something that a gentleman did. Whilst the nubile young staff were undoubtedly a temptation, they were strictly off limits. Darcy, whilst at once being the best brother a boy could have, was also somewhat scary at times. Henry had no doubt that he would learn the lesson the hard way with the help of birch rods if he crossed that line. The problem was that he enjoyed the birch and became more than a little aroused. The ‘Birch Club’ at Eton was not named because of their meeting place in a birch grove after all. His fellow devotees, both giving and receiving, knew they would be unable to resist the allure of the birch throughout their lives and so the club had continued at Cambridge. Henry’s bulge would have been very noticeable had Darcy ever carried out his threat of punishing Henry if he interfered with the staff and he would have died of shame. Matlock had taken him aside during one school break and told him that enjoying himself in all senses whilst at Eton was absolutely acceptable, but those were games for boys, and once a man, they had to be left behind.
The thought of being birched and then servicing hard cock kept Henry engaged all carriage journey to Cambridge and it wasn’t long before he found himself bent over a bench and in ecstasy at being first birched and then thoroughly rodgered by his friend, Williams, son of the Earl of Cardiff.
Their first stop would be to the little island of Sark in the British Channel Islands. Matlock was at Cambridge with the Seigneur and the young men would be hosted there and introduced into society by the ranking noble.
“Captain Pugwash, good afternoon. Are we making good progress?” Henry enjoyed chatting with the captain but was careful not to be in the way.
“Yes, Master Bennet; if the winds hold, we should be putting into Sark in the morning.”
Later, after retiring to the cabin he shared with Williams, they discussed their mutual fascination with the flogging procedure Captain Pugwash had explained to him.
“Honestly, Bennet, I would be very aroused by the idea of tying you to the mast and birching you. Taking you in front of the crew afterwards and maybe allowing one or two to have you as well would be a distinct pleasure. Speaking of which, my staff needs the attention of your mouth as it’s been a few days.”
Henry happily complied and enjoyed his task, knowing full well that Friedrichs would almost certainly be doing the same for Hexham next door. What they didn’t know was that the Captain’s cabin was directly above theirs and every word they spoke made Pugwash’s lengthy cock hard and ready for when Rodger the cabin boy would come by later to relieve him.
After an evening’s relief and a good sleep, the young Gentlemen were ready for their tour to begin. After a short carriage ride, the gentlemen arrived at the Seigneury and were greeted by their host. Henry remembered him from one Christmas at Matlock’s house.
“Monsieur le Seigneur. Je Vous presente mes amis: Hexham, Williams et Friedrichs.” The correct deferential bow to a local noble was given by each man in turn and le Pelley returned them with an incline of the head.
“Gentlemen, welcome to my home and my island. I am sure you will have a wonderful, if sadly brief stay with us. Matlock told me that you needed to practice your French before visiting that fair, but tortured land, so my servants who speak formal French will only do so.
Bennet and Hexham went to their suite, which they discovered contained two small bedrooms and one living room. Whilst their valets unpacked for them, the men relieved themselves in the washroom and relaxed in the living room. Amongst the usual trappings of a room, such as reading books, a chess set, and some brandy, they noticed some iron rings mounted on the wall around shoulder height. In a cupboard next to the rings, Bennet discovered some lengths of rope and some birch rods. Both men had to breathe slowly and back away to avoid their arousal being seen by the servants.
“My dear friends, please allow me to introduce my other guests: Admiral James Cuthbertson, His Majesty’s Governor of Guernsey and his wife; Madame Mathilde Sadeque and her niece, Mademoiselle Angelique; finally, Philip Masterson and his cousin by the same name, Sally.”
Henry had never been hit by the metaphorical thunderbolt before and yet, on seeing Mademoiselle Angelique, he felt his limbs turn liquid. For her part, she appraised him, knowing exactly what effect she had on him. Tall, slim but with a womanly figure, Angelique had flowing auburn hair that was only tied back lightly in the French style. “Tea, Monsieur Bennet?” Her voice was like a balm to his soul and he adored her accent. “Have you heard of the Marquis de Sade, Monsieur?” Henry owned that he had heard of the libertine, but didn’t go as far as admitting some of the banned writings were doing the rounds at Cambridge. Angelique saw the faint pink on Henry’s cheeks and pushed on: “I am a distant cousin, but my father changed the family name from de Sade to Sadeque to avoid any backlash to our family. I am, to be open with you, aware of what my cousin wrote.” With that, she gave Henry an appraising look. For his part, Henry wondered if this angel could be more perfect; he had heard that the French were far more open about matters of love than the English but he had only just met the lady. He didn’t know, of course, that Albert had mentioned quietly to Angelique that he had seen the men and their reaction to the punishment items. Albert had been a retainer of the de Sades, but left France before the Corsican started his war and took refuge in the Channel Islands.
Later that night when the household had gone upstairs, Hexham teased Henry about Angelique whilst they were having a brandy before bed. “She’s a looker and you’re definitely out of your depths there old boy, but I wonder whether she would keep you happy in all ways? Can she fuck you like I will tonight? Will she let you suck another man’s cock? Will she birch you like you love? Lock the door and get me ready for you, you man-whore.” Henry did as he was bid and soon had Hexham’s prodigious cock in his mouth, his arse already tingling in the anticipation of having the beautiful appendage inside him.
Blissful the men were in their physical love and watching through the spyhole was Angelique; she had heard and seen everything. Finally, she might have met a man who would allow her to be herself. She liked Henry a lot already, but the physical aspects of her life were very important to her. She had copies of all her cousin’s writings, even the ones that his son tried to destroy. The first time her father had birched her when she was young for doing something stupid had awakened a fire in her. Soon she knew that she could only be truly satisfied when she could birch someone else; another cousin from the same family tree, Camille, had introduced her to the delights of sapphic love and was a very willing recipient of Angelique’s experimentation with the birch. Angelique’s father had no idea why his gently born daughter wanted to learn how to work with wood but saw no harm in it if she kept busy and out of trouble. Her cousin, Camille, discovered that Angelique had made a wooden phallus with her skills and attached it to herself with a modified horse harness. Both Angelique and Camille loved to be fucked hard but loved doing the fucking even more.
As always after the fucking, Hexham enjoyed finding his release in Bennet’s mouth and swallowed his friend’s emissions afterwards very happily. The men went to their own beds sated once more, but both wondering about the whipping post in the other room. Angelique returned to her own room and withdrew her phallus from its case before pleasuring herself most thoroughly.
At breakfast the following morning, Angelique sat herself next to Henry. “Good morning, Monsieur Bennet, did you have a pleasurable evening and a good sleep?” Blushing cutely, Henry admitted that he did and asked after her own night. “May I call you Henry? I know it’s very forward of me by English standards, but as I am French, I can be forgiven, non?” Henry gave his consent and hoped that this meant they were getting closer; an English gentleman would only consent to a lady using his given name when a courtship was underway. “I have been here for a few days before you arrived, and I have been finding out lots of history about this building. For example, did you know that a previous Seigneur used your living room as a punishment room for his family? The rings on the wall were used for that purpose, and I hear that there are ropes that were used to tie up anyone not very willing. I am sorry, Henry, I have shocked you, but I did warn you who I am, and I am not ashamed of my family’s history.”
Henry blushed and stammered, totally unused to this manner of address. Even his sister, Lydia, wouldn’t have been so outrageous, and she told some amazing stories. “If anything, Angelique, I find I am more drawn to you as a result of our conversation.”
“Bien. Perhaps you would accompany me on a walk after breakfast? It is a beautiful day and I would like to continue our conversation outside. The rules of chaperoning are relaxed here and, as I told you, I am French!”
Angelique took Henry’s arm when offered and they took a gentle wander around the grounds; it was a beautiful morning and, when Henry remarked on how much warmer it was there than in England, Angelique reminded him that they were a lot further south, so the sun would be stronger. “Let us go towards that little copse over there and find some shade,” Angelique suggested. As they walked, they talked about their families and their lives. “I will admit that my aunt hopes that I will find someone I admire enough to marry; I have a dowry of £5000 out of funds that my family moved here to the Channel Islands before the revolution, so I do have something to bring to the marriage. But above all else, I need passion with my husband if I am to marry.”
“Angelique, I come from an ancient family whose roots are with Guillaume of Normandy when he took the English throne and we have been landowners for 700 years, surviving the 15th Century wars and the Civil War because we aren’t prominent and have no title, I am very well connected through my sister’s marriages and when I was in town for the summer season, many of the mothers of the ton tried to push young ladies my way. I, too, like you, need a certain passion in my marriage to tempt me to marry. But the estate needs an heir, so marry I must.”
“Ahh, my Henry, I know what you need. If you come this way, I will show you that I understand you.” With that, Angelique led him deeper into the copse until he saw a tree stump. “I was watching and listening to you last night and I became very aroused when you and Hexham were enjoying yourselves. Don’t worry, remember I am French and we have a much more sensible view on these things than you English. Now, if you want to continue our conversation and see where this may lead, I need you to bend over and hold onto the stump. If you don’t, I will respect you and we will not speak of this again and any future we might have had is over. But I really like you, Henry, and I want to build a marriage where we can not only have fun between ourselves but also lead the local community. You could even keep your friendship with the others.”
“Oh, my beautiful Henry, I knew I was right about you. I will show you how much I love birching someone and then we can discuss further. Ten strokes will do to start. Count for me in French and say thank you for each, mon chere.”
“Un, merci Angelique”
“Deux, merci Angelique!
All the way to ten and whilst the strokes hurt, it was a delicious pain and one that Henry savoured. Could he really marry her after so short an acquaintance? It would be indecently fast and his family would not accept this speed at all. But he was falling for her without doubt. She put all of the insipid debutantes of the ton to shame with her brazenness and lack of society manners in private.
“Please sit on the stump and enjoy the strokes, Henry, and I will show you how this affects me. It is obviously improper for you to touch me before marriage, but I will show you how passionate I get by using the birch.” With that, she reached into her bag and pulled out her phallus. “I made this a few years ago, and it gives me great pleasure to use it. I also have straps that I can attach to use on another; I saw Hexham last night, remember? I can give you the same pleasure with this for a lot longer.”
With that, Henry watched as this vision of loveliness reached under her skirts and moved her arm rhythmically, moaning softly. “I know you’ve seen men achieving pleasure and probably women in brothels faking it, but this will be real. Just watch and enjoy.” Very soon, Angelique’s arm moved faster and faster until she cried out in pleasure, slumping down. “Come here and clean this with your tongue so you know what I taste like, Henry.”
Could this woman be any more perfect for him? Henry was astonished at how open she was about her needs and sexuality. From what he had learned, proper ladies in society just didn’t do things like this. Her taste was exotic and amazing; he found himself getting very aroused, and Angelique noticed. “Sorry, Henry, but I’m not taking care of that for you; you’ll have to find one of the boys or do it yourself. My dear, sweet boy, of course, you can’t propose right now, but I do feel connected to you already. I will show you more tomorrow; it will be exciting.”
“Hexham, you can fuck me all you like, but I need to cum now.” Henry was on tenterhooks and desperate for his release but Hexham knew that look and reminded Henry that he might well achieve his aim whilst being fucked. “Fine, just get on with it,” Henry growled. Soon enough, he was spilling his seed on the ground whilst Hexham pounded mercilessly away at his arse.
At breakfast the following day, Angelique whispered to him that she was going to show him how the whipping post in the room worked and that they would be crying off the day’s planned visit around the island. Henry couldn’t wait until the house was clear, and he waited in his sitting room for Angelique. Soon enough, Angelique appeared with her aunt. “Oh, don’t worry about her; she is enormously aroused by seeing someone getting birched, and she promised to chaperone us. Take off your clothes, Henry; I need to see what I’m working with.”
Somewhat nervously, Henry removed all of his clothes, leaving them piled on a chair. Angelique led him over to the rings in the wall and tied his wrists to them, securing him properly. “I’ve done this before with Camille, remember? You’re perfectly safe.” Henry trusted her words for no reason other than he had no choice and that he truly wanted to experience this from someone other than a member of the Birch Club.
“As before, I want you to count in French.”
The numbers kept rising as Angelique expertly whipped him with the birch rod; none of the strikes were particularly hard, but they were spaced out and Henry was certain that his arse and legs were a patchwork of red marks. She wielded the rod with the expertise of an artist and his backside was her canvas. One thing was absolutely certain, Henry was more aroused than he had ever been before.
“I will not touch you until the wedding and you will not touch me either, Henry. After that, we have so much love-making in every possible way that you will be glad I made you wait. I have never been with a man, and my husband will be my first, although maybe not my last. Yes, Henry, I might fuck your friends as well; would you like that?” Henry groaned, his cock twitching. “I will invite Camille for a visit as well; I miss her lips and her taste.” Henry couldn’t take any more and begged for release.
“We are leaving now and I will untie you. Please allow yourself your release into your cloth. I want you to have every pleasure in the world, Henry. I will see you at dinner.” Henry blinked as his eye covering was removed and he saw a flushed and smiling Angelique in front of him. She walked away and Henry grabbed a cloth, stroking himself urgently no more than six times before he spurted his load violently.
The following day, the four young gentlemen were to move to the Admiral’s house on Guernsey and, following some dinners and a ball, on to St Malo in France to start their tour with a visit to Colonel Sharpe, who owned a house nearby with his noble French wife. Before leaving, Henry assured Angelique that he would write to his family and then contact her. He addressed letters to his brother, Darcy and his cousins, Fitzwilliam and Matlock, advising them of the existence of Angelique. He also penned a quick note to his father’s solicitor confirming the approximate date of his return the following year. Henry knew that his family would spare no effort in investigating Angelique, and he would also ask Sharpe’s wife for her advice, as she knew the French nobility. Between them all, he would find out everything he needed to know.
“The next time I see you will be at our wedding, mon cheri. Travel safely and remember that nobody can give you pleasure like I will. The boys will try but every time they birch you, you will remember how I did it and want me more. We were made for each other, Henry; I knew I would meet someone I could love and give myself to. Adieu et bon voyage.” Angelique pressed a letter into Henry’s hands as he walked away from her down to the ship. It was something for him to enjoy on nights when he was alone.
As the ship set sail from the island, Henry knew that whatever else might happen in the future, he would always remember his time on this tiny little island in the English Channel.
