The Testament Of Jeremy Lord Northam - Cover

The Testament Of Jeremy Lord Northam

Copyright© 2007 by Rod O'Steele

Chapter 17

Historical Sex Story: Chapter 17 - What happens when a man is given the power over the mind of women and a long life.

Caution: This Historical Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   NonConsensual   First  

I had several occasions to enjoy an afternoon with Annie, she of the flawless figure. After every occasion, Vivian would drag me back to the bed. Those were long days, first the explorer of sensual pleasure, then the master, each woman exacting her tribute of my performance. I could complain, but it would be a lie. Some few months later, Lady Sussex was engaged to a Bavarian prince. If the army of guard was alert before, now the continent joined in. I never had another opportunity to see Annie. Lady Warren of course could call on her and did, instructing her in the ways of appearing virgin in her wedding bed. It must have worked since there was never a breath of scandal.

Some weeks after Annie's marriage, a young lady appeared at Vivian's door, sent by Annie. I cannot even to this day expose the lady's name for she was of the Royalty. She had known Annie as a Lady in Waiting. They had talked, as girls are wont to do, of sex. Annie let the girl know how she might redress her ignorance, for no one at the Palace would address such topics.

Vivian worked her magic and I was brought in to meet her. Again I used the ring to allay her fears and we enjoyed several meetings, while the girl learned what she wanted. It was unusual for me, since I had little actual desire for the girl, so high above my station. It was almost a sacrilege. I did my duty for flag and Queen.

Never had I enjoyed such a highborn woman. I can also say that once unclothed, there is no difference between the highest born and the lowest. I will admit that the girl was delightful, full of humor and passion as the occasion warranted. She was not unattractive, and like all young women once her clothes were off, she aroused my baser instincts immediately. She seemed to enjoy our few times together. Because of her position, our times together were few.


Having some experience in trade, many men would seek my counsel on such business matters as came up, especially those involving foreign trade. I was thought to be unbiased having no direct business in the Kingdom. Little did these gentlemen know that I was learning a great deal of the behind the scenery machinations of the government and the large trading firms. As they would say in America, the game was rigged.

That the game was fixed did not deter me. I saw great opportunity in Northern Ireland, knowing that the game was fixed. I simply had to be on the side with the advantage. You see in Northern Ireland the people were kept backwards by their leaders in the religious ferment of the counter reformation. The Protestants and Catholics of Northern Ireland were still waging a war that had been over for three hundred years. The ruling class of English Lords and Scottish businessmen created a religious hobgoblin, the Pope, and handed him up to the workers as the Anti-Christ. Now how anyone of sound mind could believe an Italian Pope in Rome had anything to do with working conditions in Ireland, confound me to explain it, but the religious and business leaders kept the populace under an iron fist with this hobgoblin.

In so doing, the wages were lower than any other industrial center in Europe. Any hint of labor unrest or unionization and the hobgoblin of Catholics taking jobs was rushed out, causing the idiot Protestants to retrench as though under attack. I had little truck with the whole thing, but could not deny the prospect of above average returns on investment in the situation. While many Englishmen were avoiding that province as backwards and irrational, which it was, I began investing. I was handsomely repaid on the backs of the idiot Protestant workers.

My commercial ties now stretched from Boston, to Charleston, to Belfast, with subsidiary offices round the world. I was fast becoming not only wealthy, but noticeably wealthy. As such, I attracted too much attention. I began to make it a practice, which I have followed to this day, to hold many investments in other names, and in other countries. This has cost me a few times as some country or another has nationalized some industry, but it kept me from notoriety, more important than the occasional loss. And being diverse in my investments has handsomely repaid me many times, as well as saved taxes form the rapacious claws of politicians.


So my life in London was one of ease, with occasional bouts of business activity. But I pursued the carnal delights with increasing interest. With age, my appetite did not flag. I assume the power of the ring was responsible for the prolonged virility. I now had no doubt of the ring's power having long exceeded the normal span of a man, unless you consider the Biblical accounts as accurate, and my apparent age was perhaps of a strong man in his mid-thirties, that is the prime of life, even though my real age now exceeded one hundred fifty years.

In addition to the occasional virgin sacrifice provided by Vivian, along with meeting her needs, I frequented Whitechapel, where women were always available. I had joined a gentleman's club which of course provided such entertainment as gentlemen required on premises as well. And last, I used the ring on occasion. I might meet an exceptionally lovely shop girl and 'persuade' her to lunch and then to my house. In all, my appetites were well fed.


I might still be there in London enjoying the young girls if not for an unfortunate occurrence. Ah me. I knew, as did Vivian, that upper class girls would not talk about their experiences, since to do so would mark them as fallen and unfit as proper wives. This was true, for almost all.

Vivian and I had the misfortune of meeting a girl most indelicate, frankly, I think because of a lack of innate sense. She was, to use a phrase that I heard much later and so is anachronistic in this setting but most appropriate, dumb as a box of rocks. This lady, Yvette, Lady Coring, told her mother of her adventures with Lady Warren and myself. Her mother, obviously of the same cloth as her daughter, instead of protecting the virtue of her daughter and hushing the stupid girl, told the girl's father who, in a fit of pique, insulted me at a lunch in a public restaurant.

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