Jack the Bodice Ripper ♣ Chapter 1
Here we are at a new beginning! The beginning of another SNM Taboo internet story.
It took me some time choosing which story to post this time, but I wound up choosing JACK THE BODICE RIPPER because I wanted to go back a revisit this cute little story.
It's set in a fictitious historical setting where I borrow the world from another story I wrote called THE SPOILS OF ALLSVEIL.
Jackson Tyilasuir, the main character of JACK THE BODICE RIPPER, is the great grandson of Alexia Goththor, the main character of THE SPOILS OF ALLSVEIL.
And now that I have completely confused you, let's move on.
I've always loved Regency romance, historical romance. The dress, the speech, the regalness (is that a word?) the majesty, kings, queens, peasants, gentry and all the aristocrats with the age. But I always feel stupid while reading these works of art. The authors know sooooo much history and research every nuance about language, customs, hell even how they had sex at the time. But when I'm done with those stories my brain is full and I'm exhausted. I didn't want that for THE SPOILS OF ALLSVEIL and I don't want it for JACK THE BODICE RIPPER. This is a fun story. Something dunce heads like me can keep up with. I learn a lot from the "correct" regency romances. The rich history of the time, the intelligence of the characters, the prose, wording... everything is beautiful. But I wanted to create something for me, that I would enjoy writing. I didn't want to get into history this time. I just wanted to write.
So I made this world "historical" but not accurate. It's an alternate regency. A different historical. It's A KNIGHTS TALE with modern music and an old setting.
But I added something in JACK THE BODICE RIPPER. A twist on the BDSM scene. There are Paramounts and Obedients. You can think of Paramount akin to Dominants and Obedients akin to submissives.
What I didn't want was the automatic connotation that people associate with BDSM. When people hear about Doms and subs, they have this vision of how a Dom should act, how a sub should be and how they should react together.
Yeah, I didn't want that.
I wanted the relationship between a Paramount and an Obedient to not have the same label as Dom and sub. I don't call this book a BDSM book, I call it a sexual exploration story.
One is willing to be taken into something unique and one desires the joy of showing their partner something new. Something exciting. Which is what Jack wants.
Our heroine, Faye, is naive (not stupid, but unlearned in the ways of sex) which is a new thing to Jack. All he's ever had are experienced women. He's been tutoring under these women and now he can turn the tables on Faye and guide her. Her innocence teaches him the true meaning of connection. She also teaches him the strength a woman holds and how the most difficult thing can be to trust.
So, hopefully, you'll enjoy the story as we go through the chapters.
I'm working on the second book of the Notice Me Senpai series but I have allocated enough time to dole out monthly chapters of Bodice Ripper. Cynthia is working on Kai and Liam (the main characters for Notice Me Senpai book 2) and I'll have some sketches to go with NMS, but for JACK, I'll be giving you some illustrations I found that represent the characters.
If you have any questions, leave a comment or email me!
Until next time, happy reading!
This is my imaginings of Jackson Tyliasuir
This is a FREE internet story for my fans. This is the first chapter of a story called "Jack the Bodice Ripper".
No part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted without written prior permission from the publisher. This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, events, incidents and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
If you find any grammar, spelling or punctuation errors, please let know via the comments!! I may not get to them right away, but I will get to them. Thank you!
WARNING: EXPLICIT CONTENT
Jack the Bodice Ripper
So many dresses twirling around in the ballroom. So many opportunities.
Tonight's goal—get two or three in bed at the same time. Horrible, I know, but while there was a certain indulgence in conquering one female, my lascivious tongue wanted a taste of them all. When I wed, at least I’d know how to please her. But before that day, I would push until my curiosity was sated.
Ah, the issues of being me. Jackson Tyilasuir. Royalty. A prince. A future king.
Wind instruments softened the accompanying sharpness of the string quartet. Aristocrats danced on the marble floor below. Being on the balcony, I had a perfect vantage point for spying bosom from above. The second floor made everyone look like a maze of ants mingling with each other. Suits pressed against dresses. Bright yellows, vivid blues, pure white and catching orange skirts fluttered around the men in an effortless battle for wealth, power, or favor.
Lady Aspira danced with Lord Jenkins, flirting with everyone walking by—and I mean everyone. Ladies and gentlemen. She was a beautiful red-head without the temper and a joy in bed. But I’ve already had her and she me. Our sexual appetites matched, alas, she wanted more than I could give.
Billowing skirts hiding the full shape of a woman. Absolutely criminal. Women should be naked. I resend that, nothing would get done if that the case. But in my bedroom, they never do keep their clothes.
Oh, I give them back, but souvenirs—I keep.
The ballroom is jammed with gentlemen and ladies from across the nation to greet my fair mother. A queen’s birthday is not to be missed. That and no one wants to disappoint Queen Lydia Tyilasuir of Allsveil. Me least of all.
Mother ruled even before father died of consumption. No man-of-science or barber surgeon saved him. But a queen is not a frail mourner for long. Her lover has, and shall always be, Allsveil. The country of her birth.
Mother griped my guiding arm and I felt her expectations heavy as stone.
We are yet to be announced and she takes the time to chide me. “There might be a suitable wife down there.”
“We’ve had this conversation.”
Mother sighed. “I’d rather you pick, but you’re going to force me to choose for you, aren’t you?”
“You don’t have to choose any of them.” I grinned with impish intent.
“Wretched child, you are nineteen, already a sincere rake…”
I’d heard the speech enough to make me want to drown myself. But down on the far side, a warm honey-eyed introvert stood by the battle-hardened Sir Ahibodeau. I’d never seen the lady next to the anti-socialite. Hell, I never saw any woman next to Sir Ahibodeau before. But I could see why he didn’t chase her off. My eyes gravitated to her curved form and landed on innocent warm eyes—staring at me.
I pulled on the leash of my mother’s arm. Her hold didn’t break.
“Jack, please, we have a ball to attend.”
My forced control only created a whirlwind of desire. This new face, inviting eyes, and shy demeanor was intoxicating to the mire side of my soul. “Mother, you are a damper on my rakish ways.” I laughed.
“Good.” She flashed a grin, primed her hair and nodded to the announcer.
Paul, the door-man, announcer, and mother's personal guard nodded back. I'd deemed Paul old faithful because he was both old and faithful.
The bags under his eyes were testament to his war days. His skin could weather against horse hooves and wooden wheels. His hair held no pigment. But he was ever there. Ever standing by mother's side. The queen’s sentry straightened mischievous children and fended off war mongering kings looking for my mother’s hand in matrimony… or her head on a pike.
Old Faithful turned to the audience below the balcony. The minstrels halt their song. Paul lifted his head and called out in a strong regal voice. “Queen Lydia Tyilasuir escorted by Prince Jackson Tyilasuir.”
All eyes were on mother, but mine found the woman who spread warmth over my body. Holding her gaze rubbed all others out of my vision.
Mother’s usual commanding feminine voice dropped to a drone.
This Lady I’ve never seen will be my conquest for tonight.
Thoughts of having a ménage fly out my mind. I only want her. My legs itched to move, but I gripped the brass railing to keep my stance. It would not be appropriate for a prince to abandon his mother during her birthday speech.
Instead, I think of getting the warm-eyed Lady alone, in my bed. What treasure would she leave as a memento for me? Her red satin over-the-shoulder dress is provocative enough to lure other men by her side, but she squirmed and stepped closer to Sir Ahibodeau when they approach.
I shut out the other guests until I imagined only the two of us in my bedroom.
Her sweeping neckline deserves the first of my lips...
Her delicate skin tastes of butter and sugar. A lick of my lips and already I want to bite those shoulders and tie her to the post. Deviant touches over her breasts, a touch over their round top… a kiss… my fingers glide over her bosoms. My docile bunny pants. Want. Need. Her green pupils are blown out. Only a thin ring of green surround her iris.
I was ready to ravish those lips, bite and tease with my tongue, but that was a reward for a servile little Obedient. Wrapping both her wrists in one of my hands behind her back, the dainty beauty is bound and mine.
The lope of her ear is too tantalizing to resist and because I am her Paramount, I take it. Suckling the base, running my tongue over the ridges. She moans and I place a finger over her lips. As a reward, I take my hand away and kiss her. Deep. Searching. While strokes of my tongue plunder I push her back into the mattress.
Her own probe is light, tentative and fills my cock to its full potential. Her skirts are made of silk and I use the smoothness of the cloth to spark desire, gliding my hand up her leg. No matter what fancy material a woman wears, there’s nothing like the touch of skin-on-skin.
My little Obedient is a wanton creature. Closed eyes. Slack expression. I pull her upright and bring her close. My devilish smile warns and prepares her.
I slip the cord-cutter out of its sheath. I show her the exposed blade, but she isn’t afraid. She knows it’s her trust I need. The edge comes close to her skin and the rise of her breasts heave. Lowering the knife, sharp point sliding down, snagging the cotton lace of her corset I bring the point to the lowest rung of the lattice crossed lace.
“Tilt your head back,” I whisper.
She exposes her neck, all the way down to the dip between her clavicle. Everything below my belt weighs exponentially heavier. My knees shake, my thighs ache. The thickness of my cock and balls grows. My Obedient is truly subservient. A lovely bunny giving me anything I want, trusting me with her life. A deft hand slides the blade under the sinew string holding her corset together. Gripping her tighter, my arm is swift and straight as I thrust the knife up and away.
She is unharmed, but the obstruction of clothing to her breasts is breached. I slide the blade under her chemise and pull until the thin cotton rips in half. Easy as cutting pie.
The knife clatters to the floor, freeing my hand to slide over her unblemished skin. I circle her belly button with a finger and linger my hand on its way up to cup her mounds.
“Jack.” A masculine voice ripped me from my reverie.
Paul’s voice brought me back into the here and now. I’m suddenly aware that I’ve been mentally undressing a woman in front of an entire constituent now looking for who has my sole focus. Including my mother.
“Find something interesting?” The queen’s tone harsh but her eyes glittered in amusement.
“You, honored mother.” I bowed to the woman of honor. The person where my attention should have been, instead of daydreaming.
She laughed at my lie. A young laugh, a knowing laugh. I was yet to hear the end of this.
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