The Imposter
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Sarah didn't know that her mother was about to visit her in her 
chamber and had already surrendered herself to the throes of sexual 
ecstasy. The warm liquid tongue of one of her handmaids, Cherry, was 
extruded deep within the inner lips of Sarah's vulva, while Sarah had 
thrust an exploratory finger up her servant's anus. But Lady St. 
Cuthbert knew better than to interrupt her daughter until the moment 
of orgasm was achieved, although she observed that Clematis, Sarah's 
other handmaid-also naked and ready to assist whenever needed-
had noticed the baroness approach and subtly signalled to Cherry that 
there should now be a pause in the lovemaking.
      Sarah sat up languidly, naked from the waist down except for 
the sheer silk chemise that obscured her bosom. Her long hair 
cascaded freely onto her shoulders, and served to further distinguish 
her from her handmaids whose heads like that of all men and women 
of common birth was shaved bald at least once a day. Sarah steadied 
herself on Cherry's shoulders to raise herself up to greet her mother 
with due respect, but Lady St. Cuthbert was impatient and indicated 
with a dismissive flick of her wrist that such ceremony was not 
required on this occasion.
      "I shan't trouble you for long, dear," said Sarah's mother as she 
stroked Clematis' bare back and registered the handmaid's purr of 
appreciation. "Your father and I have at last decided on the man whom 
you should marry and I thought it was only right to tell you the glad 
tidings as soon as I could."
      "And who might this gentleman be, Mother?" Sarah asked, 
grateful that her parents should put so much effort into arranging their 
daughter's future happiness.
      "He's not titled, but he is a man of estate and social standing," 
said Lady St. Cuthbert. "His name is Charles Kingston. He is the eldest 
son of the Kingston family and has significant stocks and holdings in 
Information Technology and Shale Gas Extraction."
      "That doesn't make him sound like a man of great worth or 
esteem," Sarah sniffed. "His blood doesn't have the provenance of 
honourable lineage. Nor does he owe his fortune to the bounty of noble 
estate."
      "But he does have substantial wealth, my dear," said her 
mother. "And that is the worth of many titles. He is also a man of great 
virility who has fathered many bastards, so we are confident that you 
shall provide him with children and us with grandchildren. And 
furthermore I have heard report from some of my widowed 
acquaintances that he is a fuck of the most admirable quality. But fret 
not, my dear. If he has earned the approval of your father and his 
father also, your grandfather, then it will be a worthy match for you."
      "When shall I meet Mr Kingston, Mother?" Sarah asked.
      "We shall arrange a suitable occasion, my dear," said Lady St. 
Cuthbert. "And then after the appropriate vetting and DNA profiling, 
you and he shall be wed."
      "And where might that be, Mother?"
      "That is the prerogative of the groom, my dear," said Sarah's 
mother. "But he will almost certainly consult your father who, as you 
know, has always had a fondness for Conglingbury Abbey. It's a fine 
and venerable church and we know the Abbot well."
      "Thank you, Mother," said Sarah. She glanced at Clematis 
whose shaved pate her mother was appreciatively stroking. "Would 
you like to accompany me in my recreation. Mother?" she asked. "My 
handmaidens will surely be a change from your own."
      "Not now, dear," said the baroness. "I have business to attend 
to. We can exchange handmaids on another occasion. I have employed 
a new one, Wisteria, whose body is most exquisite and who has a 
pleasingly slim wrist. You and she will get on well together I'm sure."
      "As long as the hand at the end of her wrist doesn't enter my 
thatched cottage," Sarah said in sly reference of the imperative that she 
preserve her virginity until she was wed.
      "Quite, my dear," agreed Lady St. Cuthbert, who might have 
reflected that the euphemism didn't describe very well a crotch that 
had been shaved ever since the first hair could be tweaked and 
according to custom would remain so until her daughter was a woman 
of senior years.
      Sarah didn't have to wait until the official date of her 
introduction to Charles Kingston for her to find out more about her 
prospective husband. She could discover so much by browsing the 
internet and social media. She could easily research his pedigree, rank, 
stock-holdings and annual wealth, but she assumed her parents had 
already conducted such preliminary research on such dry but critical 
matters. Nevertheless, Sarah did ascertain that his wealth was on an 
ascending trajectory thanks to the insatiable demand for shale gas. 
Most news stories regarding his business interests gave a flattering 
account of his respect for the environment and, in the less elevated 
media, disrespectful stories relating to the common people who'd been 
disadvantaged by having the foundation of their homes undermined 
and their drinking water poisoned. But, as the business reports 
stressed, this was a necessary if regretful side-effect of the hydraulic 
fracturing process of extraction. But what Sarah most wanted to know 
wasn't the size of his bank account (which would have to be 
considerable for him to be an acceptable suitor), but rather the size of 
his cock.
      This and other intimate details could be found in the blogs of 
the better sort of woman who'd borne his bastards (the lesser sort 
Sarah wasn't interested in apart from the consoling knowledge that the 
man's appetite was never easily sated). There were no photographs of 
his erect cock nor any film of his sexual activity. If there had been, 
such disrespectful images would soon be removed following legal 
threats from his lawyers who were alert to the damage to his dignity 
this could cause. There was also intriguing suggestion that Mr 
Kingston's appetite extended beyond young women. There were 
several photographs of him with manservants in several degrees of 
undress and sometimes clad only in leather or latex. By all accounts, 
Charles Kingston not only possessed a large cock but was enamoured 
of those possessed by other men. Further evidence of his diverse palate 
was provided by the many pictures of him with the young Duke of 
Grosvenor and Baron Cholmondeley of West Farwich: also gentlemen 
of catholic taste.
      Still, the internet was no substitute for the real thing, so Sarah 
looked forward to the formal introduction to her suitor that followed 
his acceptance of her parents' expression of intent and the 
accompanying invitation to their principal address. Such an 
appointment was, indeed, a formality because both Sarah and Mr 
Kingston were aware that the outcome of the process of engagement 
once began was more or less a foregone conclusion. 
      Sarah's servants spent many hours applying make-up to her 
face and trying out the costly designer outfits that had been bought 
specifically for the occasion. The draped silk dress left her shoulders 
bare and fell fashionably open at the front so that little effort indeed 
was needed to catch a glance at her nipples. And for this reason, much 
care was taken to ensure that they were rouged and powdered as much 
as her face and shoulders so as to present her in the best possible light. 
Her servants were also attired lavishly and tastefully, only in their case 
the dresses revealed everything that a man might desire to see and they 
would be returned to the wardrobe as soon as the ceremonial 
introduction was over. It would never do for a servant to become too 
accustomed to luxury.
      Charles Kingston was dressed in a most becoming designer suit 
with a bold parrot green silk cravat around his neck and an ostentatious 
bejewelled watch on his wrist and much precious metal on his fingers. 
He was accompanied by a tall manservant also dressed very finely, but 
like Sarah's servants, his shaved and polished head betrayed his menial 
status.
      "I'm delighted to make your acquaintance, Madam," said 
Sarah's suitor.
      "Likewise, Mr Kingston. And you may henceforth address me 
as Sarah."
      "Thank you, Sarah. And please call me Charles."
      With that formality over, Sarah and Charles discreetly 
wandered away from the company of Sarah's mother and the 
entourage of lesser relatives and servants, and walked together, each 
accompanied by only a single servant, out through the balcony door 
and into the St Cuthbert formal gardens. As they strode together, arm 
in arm, followed a few steps behind by the servants with their heads 
bowed down, the couple were discreetly saluted by the bare-chested 
gardeners and labourers.
      "So, Charles," said Sarah relishing the name on her lips. "Is 
this engagement that my parents have arranged agreeable to you?"
      "Indeed it is, Sarah," said Mr Kingston. "You are indeed, as 
they say, a 'catch'."
      "And you are indeed a man of wealth and distinction, Charles," 
said Sarah. "And on other matters: I have heard that you are also a man 
with a record and a reputation..."
      Mr Kingston chuckled good-humouredly. "So, I've been 
caught out, Sarah," he said with an irrepressible grin. "You know 
about my bastards, mistresses and lovers. Are they an issue for you? 
I've discussed the matter with your parents and it doesn't trouble them 
at all."
      "My only concern, Charles," said Sarah with a similarly good 
natured smile, "is that after my hymen is breached and my virginity 
sacrificed, that I am not neglected or disregarded."
      "I understand perfectly," said Mr Kingston. "My manservants 
are of excellent character. They give as well as they receive as I can 
happily testify. Why, Wayne here has a magnificent cock and a most 
accommodating arse."
      "I'm delighted to hear it, Charles," said Sarah. "But I'm sure 
you understand me when I say that the services of common servants 
are merely to be expected. For instance, I would happily avail you of 
the services of Clematis here at any time and place of your choosing. I 
can assure you that would discover that her arse is also most 
accommodating, but I am certain that if you were ever in need of a 
plebeian fuck you could find other women to your taste with no 
difficulty whatsoever. It is the attention of those more refined that I'm 
sure you prize the most. As so do I." 
      "I am certain that my close friends in even the most elevated 
circles would be delighted to make your intimate acquaintance, Sarah," 
said Mr Kingston, delighted perhaps to have resolved what could have 
been a quite tricky matter amongst some of the less worldly-wise 
women of the higher orders. "But first of all we must ensure that the 
children you bear are the fruit of my loins and no one else's."
      "And as part of the bargain, Charles," said Sarah to maintain 
the easy banter, "I shall ensure that you and no one else will be the 
first to breach what is truly a door waiting to be opened."
      "Naturally," said Mr Kingston, while Sarah confirmed that her 
remarks had prompted a bulge in the crotch of his neatly creased 
trousers. 
      Although Sarah knew that she had very little say in the 
preparations for the wedding and subsequent honeymoon, she felt 
more enthusiastic about the minutiae of it all now that she was certain 
that matrimony, rather than being the compromise she'd always feared, 
might actually be the beginning of a more fulfilling love life. Already 
she was scanning Charles Kingston's friends as listed on social media 
and, more significantly, on the online society gossip periodicals. There 
were many amongst the men most often photographed with him who 
had seeming promise. She could already envisage her anus being filled 
by the throbbing member of the Honourable Member for Lower 
Strickland, while her husband's was lodged where it belonged in her 
vagina. And there were ladies of Charles' acquaintance who might be 
at least as much fun as her handmaids, though Sarah was sure that 
once married she would no longer have such a need for Sapphic 
recreation.
      "Would you like for me to arrange a hen party for you, my 
dear?" Sarah's mother asked as preparations approached a more 
advanced state.
      "Only if you come along too, Mother," Sarah replied loyally.
      "The wedding ceremony will have a heraldic theme, dear," 
Lady St Cuthbert said on another occasion. "Do you have any 
objections?"
      "My only concern is that the wedding dress be spotlessly white, 
Mother."
      "As befits you, dear," came the chuckled rejoinder as Sarah 
dug her teeth into Wisteria's plump buttocks.
      "Have you any preferences as to the location of the 
honeymoon, dear?" Sarah was asked nearer the date.
      "I believe that it's supposed to be a surprise, Mother."
      "Given the choice, dear: a warm or a temperate resort?"
      "I hope to wear as few clothes as possible."
      "Warm then."
      It was all going so well. Sarah's life was following the 
expected path. Prep school. Boarding school. Debutante Ball. 
Finishing school. And now marriage. 
      She would be the envy of all those friends of her who would 
attend her hen party and throw themselves with abandon on the naked 
flesh of the compliant female servants not knowing when, or even if, 
they would ever taste a man's prick or to be fucked by one and yet 
retain their virtue.
      It was the list of guests that most concerned Sarah's parents. 
There was a limited number of seats at Conglingbury Abbey and the 
question was who should not be invited. Did the Honourable Member 
for Lower Strickland, whose family's wealth was built on the proceeds 
of gambling take precedence over Lord Cumberford who despite his 
blue blood carried a very strong whiff of scandal about him? Should 
the Prime Minister be seated next to the Prince of Baden Hofstadter? 
Was it prudent to issue an invitation to the immediate members of the 
Royal Family even when one knew that the betrothal to a man of such 
humble stock as Charles Kingston would most likely result in a polite 
refusal?
      The forthcoming marriage had so soon become the most 
exciting event in Sarah's life. And as it got closer any worries she had 
about leaving the family home were as nothing compared to the 
exciting prospect of moving into one of the many villas, mansions, 
yachts and castles Charles owned both on home soil and abroad.
      And then, amidst all this excitement and anticipation, Sarah 
received an urgent summons to talk with her father.
      This was rare in itself. As a rule, Lord St. Cuthbert never spoke 
to any of his sons or daughters. In fact, as far as Sarah was aware, the 
last time he addressed more than two or three words to her at a time 
was when she was a child and he'd confused her for her older sister, 
Philomena. Sarah's father was a man who believed that his role in 
parenthood was to do as little as he possibly could and to leave all 
parental management entirely to his wife. He was paying for 
everything. What more could he be expected to do?
      Sarah was more nervous than she could recall ever being. She 
bade her maids to tidy her up to the best of their ability given the very 
short notice and approached her father's study in trepidation. She even 
had to wear the same foundation and eye make-up as she had in the 
morning. 
      Lord St Cuthbert was sitting in a plush leather armchair with 
his wife standing behind and to the side of him. On the other side of 
the study and also looking rather nervous were just two shaven-headed 
servants: the librarian and chief clerk.
      Sarah's father nodded at his daughter as she entered the room.
      "Sit down, my dear," he said gesturing her towards a less plush 
leather armchair which Sarah found too large to be comfortable.
      There was an ominously silent atmosphere, while both wife 
and daughter obeyed the unspoken imperative that neither should 
speak unless spoken to.
      "I'm sure you're wondering why I've called you hear, my 
dear," said Sarah's father.
      She nodded. "Yes, Father," she said.
      "I won't beat about the bush, my dear, so brace yourself for a 
shock."
      "Yes, Father."
      "The marriage is off."
      Sarah stared at her father. Had she heard right?
      "You may ask your father why that is so, dear," said Sarah's 
mother. "You have the right."
      "Why has my marriage to Mr Kingston been cancelled, 
Father?" Sarah asked dutifully. Tears were beginning to well in her 
eyes. This was so unexpected. And worse than that: unfair.
      "I will let Mr Bates explain the details, my dear, but Mr 
Kingston has been vetted and has been found wanting."
      "Does that mean I shall never see Mr Kingston again, Father?"
      A flash of red rage flickered across Lord St Cuthbert's face. "If 
that imposter... that charlatan...that money-grubber cross the 
boundary of any one of my estates then I will take it upon myself to 
thrash him to within an inch of his life."
      "Yes, Father."
      "I have only one last piece of advice to give to you, young 
lady," said Sarah's father as he slowly lifted himself out of his chair. "I 
would prefer it if the name of this man were never again uttered in my 
presence. From now on, it will be as if he had never existed. Your 
mother and I will have to find another man who can be your husband 
and next time I can only hope he is more suitable."
      With that, Sarah's father walked out of the study. 
      And it was only when he'd shut the door behind him that Sarah 
could at last release all the tears that had welled up inside her. This 
was so humiliating! How could she face her friends again? All those 
plans and all that hope: dashed. And dashed forever. Because if there 
was one thing that Sarah knew, which her mother had often reminded 
her, was that when her father made a decision it would not have been 
made idly and there was no recourse to further discussion.
      But why? What had Charles Kingston done that had been so 
foul that her father believed him to be a man utterly unfit for marriage 
to his daughter?
      "It's his bloodline, dear," said Sarah's mother when she asked 
her.
      "Bloodline?" said Sarah. "Surely we knew about all that before 
the vetting. Was he the bastard son of a baron? Was he a foundling of 
some kind?"
      "The DNA profiling is unambiguous, my lady," said Mr Bates 
the Chief Clerk. "Mr Kingston is of very common descent. In fact 
there is not a trace of blue blood in him. Indeed, the evidence we have 
is that the living person most closely related to him is a common 
prostitute who works the Kings Row. That is, amongst those who are 
not the children he hast fathered. The evidence is that the documents 
that affirmed his ancestry and lineage have been doctored. This is 
something that a man of his great wealth would have had no difficulty 
in facilitating."
      "Thank goodness for modern science and the mapping of the 
genome, dear," said Sarah's mother. "You were very nearly married to 
a man of the most common and base sort. A man whose genetic profile 
is as venerable as dirty dishwater. How can we have been so fooled?"
      "But is he not a man of great wealth and social standing, 
Mother?" said Sarah.
      "It would be very unseemly for the cause of your father's 
dissatisfaction with the man to become common knowledge, dear," 
said Sarah's mother. "I hope you understand that not one whiff of the 
real reason should go beyond this study. Our lawyers will discuss the 
matter with Mr Kingston's lawyers and an equable solution will be 
arrived at. And whatever story is settled on for the break-up of your 
engagement will be the story you will tell your friends and anyone else 
who might ask, including, most importantly, reporters from the society 
magazines."
      "But I was so nearly married, Mother," wailed a distraught 
Sarah, who would now have to wait that much longer for a penis to 
break her precious hymen and release her from the imprisonment of 
pre-marital chastity.
      "Just be grateful that you've been spared the humiliation and 
disgrace of marriage to a man of low birth," said Sarah's mother. 
"There are some things which take precedence over anything else and 
the preservation of good stock and breeding is one of those things."
      "Yes, Mother," said Sarah who was sure that despite her 
current misery and shame, her parents were right. Contamination with 
common blood could not be tolerated. 
      After all, who could say what chaos and anarchy might result?
      
      
      
      
      
      



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