Chapter 4

Mary was much more open with her affection for me after our tryst. Mrs. Bennett seemed also to understand that I was not interested in her older daughter and had attached my affections to the second daughter.

Like a good General, she saw what opportunity presented itself and charged into the breach. In short, Jane was no longer pressed forward and Mary was. I noticed Jane looking my way a few times, but that passed as her mother took aim on a recent widower, a prosperous farmer, Mr. Owens, who had three small children and was desperately in need of a wife willing to assume such a burden. Jane had few opportunities and after her disappointment, willingly joined the pursuit of farmer Owens. Their nuptials quickly followed. Owens looked relieved at the wedding as did Mrs. Bennett.

After the tryst with Mary my attention found itself diverted more and more to Elizabeth Woodhouse. I had opportunity to compare a girl barely a woman, Harriet, to an older, Mary. Now I wondered what would it be like to have a woman in full bloom. At 22, Elizabeth was indeed in full bloom of her womanhood.

Elizabeth was tall and willowy with straw yellow hair and piercing blue eyes, intelligent and educated with aspirations to writing. I must admit that I found her education somewhat of a challenge, not being well learned at that point in my life. I had not been to the manor born and had not had the benefit of much education. In point of fact, I could at that time barely read and knew no language well except my native tongue and a smattering of French.

And that is how I presented myself one afternoon on a visit to the Woodhouse manor. We had tea and her father disappeared. I was surprised that he left us alone. Miss Woodhouse noticed my reaction. "Don't mind Father," she said. "He isn't worried about my virtue, sure as he is that I will never yield it to any man."

I coughed to cover my amazement.

"Oh, Lord Northam, I have discomfited you," she said. I felt my face flush which brought a smile to Miss Woodhouse's face.

My thoughts turned to the ring. I had only to speak some words, and cause my will to turn thither and this woman would indeed surrender her virtue. She knew not that danger was so close in this pretty parlor of hers.

She saw something of the danger in my eyes I think for she said, "Lord Northam, have I been deceived?"

"Perhaps your virtue is not secure, Miss Woodhouse. Surrender is not the only means by which a girl may lose it," I said.

"Lord Northam, surely you are not the sort of man who would force your attentions on a resisting woman," she said.

"Miss Woodhouse, I think I am that sort of man," I said, thinking how my use of the ring made me exactly that sort of man. It was then that I recanted such use of the ring on Miss Woodhouse. "But I find myself unable to do so with you."

"Oh well, I shall have to contain my disappointment at not being raped," she said.

"Miss Woodhouse!" I said scandalized.

"Lord Northam!" she said mocking me. "Please, it is all this reading I do. The classics are simply full of rape. One cannot read any classic without a rape it seems. A girl does have to wonder about it then, doesn't she? Where did all these rapes vanish to? What would it be like to be so ravished as the Sabine women or Lucretia? Stories, my mind is filled with stories, so please do forgive me."

"Elizabeth," I started and she noticed the familiar name causing her to look at me intently. "I am not an educated man. I was not raised to the manor house. Would you read me one of these stories?"

"A rape?" she asked.

"Yes," I said serenely.

There was a pause as she considered. "Yes, yes I would. Come, my Lord. I will get a book and we shall go to the garden. It is a pleasant day and secure in the garden fortress we shall not scandalize the servants by reading such a thing."

I followed her to the library where she took a book. I could see it was in Latin. "Elizabeth," I said. Once again I noted her attention at my use of the familiar name. "I am afraid I do not know Latin."

"But I do, Lord Northam, and I shall be free to translate it into our poor tongue. I shall omit nothing," she said with what I would call a devilish smile.

I could not help but laugh which brought gay laughter to her as well.

I took her arm as we went out to the garden. She led me to a secluded pavilion. The summer sun shone brightly, warming the air which buzzed with the sounds of nature. Elizabeth settled onto a bench and motioned me to sit beside her.

She opened the book to a well worn passage and began to read. It was a poem, I could tell from the form, but one I was not familiar with. Elizabeth read, absorbed in the words. As the story reached the rape, she read breathlessly. The woman was ravished and Elizabeth's face flushed as she read.

I had my second fundamental realization of women sitting there in the pavilion. I would never have known that women could have desires just as men had until the experience of the ring. I now realized that the ring did not overwhelm a women's will, it released a part that was hidden. Perhaps it simply brushed aside the civilized restraint and brought forth the Adamic being, the part of us all that was free of restraint before the Fall, before we were tainted with Original Sin and could feel shame. Elizabeth had given me the clue in her parlor. Watching her read of the rape I knew she wished the experience she could only read of in her books. She was tired of books and wanted to feel in her body what she could only read about.

As she reached then end of the passage, she looked up, her face flushed her breathing fast and shallow, her fingers gripped the book until they were white.

I knew what she wanted. I took the book from her resisting hands and tossed it to the grass. "Lord Northam?" she said trembling now.

Without a word, just as the story, I took her face between my hands and roughly kissed her. As I broke the kiss, she bolted from the pavilion. I was shocked assuming I had been wrong. But she stopped on the soft grass outside the pavilion and looked back, breathing hard. She was waiting...

I jumped up and followed her. She resisted me but did not call out nor did she run. She pushed against my chest as I pulled her face to mine and forced her lips against mine.

Elizabeth made no sounds other than her pants of breath. She did not cooperate nor did she struggle so as to mark me, no nails or cuffs. She pushed back but let my strength overwhelm her. There were no cries of alarum that would bring the servants running thither. In short, Elizabeth cooperated in her rape while all the time resisting.

I pushed her to the soft carpet of grass and lifted her dress. I must admit I was almost defeated before I had begun. I had no idea of how to undo her garments as the others had undressed themselves. Quick witted Elizabeth, espied my quandary and spoke her first words, "Rip it."

I found a seam and pulled hard, the cloth tearing and ripping until it parted completely exposing her loins to my ravishing eyes. I pulled my breeches down, my cock pointing to the target. I pushed her onto her back and her legs splayed lewdly. I, between them, each hand holding one of hers to the soft grass below us, seated my cock at her entrance and pushed. The girl was flooded with her arousal even though I had done nothing to secure it. My cock slid in, met her barrier briefly and sundered it in a nonce, lancing deeply into the woman below me.

Elizabeth bit her lip to keep from crying out as I made her fully a woman. I waited a moment as I did not wish to cause her harm or further hurt. I had already assayed that the pain of deflowerment is short and can be quickly usurped by the pleasure that follows. Her eyes opened and beheld mine. She said nothing but her hips pressed up against mine as though she were attempting to unseat me, but without the actual force necessary, instead pressing her loins hard against mine.

Taking the bit, I pulled back and reversed course to plunge again into Elizabeth. She moaned but said nothing. Quickly, the rhythm of Eros took us both, our hips moved apart and together, my rod spearing her again and again, our bodies filled with the pleasure of sex.

As I felt my own height coming on, Elizabeth pulled one hand free and biting her wrist to block the scream, cried out in her own pleasure. That was enough to raise me to the heights of passion and I poured my essence into her before collapsing over her prostrate body.