Anonymous: The Loves of Lord Roxboro

“Oh, uncle. Of course Freda and I will both be just like daughters to you and do everything you say, and I am sure we can make you love us, we will be such good girls.”

“Well then, that's settled,” said he. “Come over and sit upon my knee,” he commanded. She rose immediately and gracefully came over to him, her face crimson, and sank upon his knee. She was apparently confused and embarrassed, but could hardly refuse the first request her uncle made, after having just agreed to obey him in all things.

He put his arm around her and drew her to him, kissing her passionately; she lay passive, permitting his embraces but returning them only lukewarmly.

His hand fell to her knee and he began to rub up and down her leg. Her face flushed a deep red, her eyes were closed and she murmured softly, “Oh, uncle, I don't think you ought to do that; the sisters taught us that it isn't very nice for a girl to permit a man to touch her body.”

^Now, Caroline,” he said, with a laugh, “the first thing we are going to do is to remove from your mind a great many things that the sisters taught you. I am your uncle and I certainly have a right to pet you,” pinching her thigh, which swelled beautifully from her knee to her hip. Her soft body lay in his arms and he could feel the round buttocks pressing against his leg as she sat upon his knee. He kissed her repeatedly-hot, passionate, sensual kisses which embarrassed the girl without seeming to provoke a response in kind. Holding her flaming face close, he kissed her entire countenance, her eyelids, her rosy cheeks, her wildly throbbing temples. Finally, loosening his arm from about her neck, he lifted his head, his sensual eyes almost starting from their sockets, and allowed his beautiful and panting charge to relax.

“Oh, uncle, uncle! Your kisses,” she murmured, as if about to swoon fairly away. “Your kisses, they seem to bum me so.” Lord Roxboro by this time was in a perfect ferment of delirious passion; he held the tender girl close to him and dropping an eager and trembling hand to the front of her dress, squeezed and molded the two swelling orbs that seemed to be strained as if to the bursting point. The confining hands held their perfect contours and squeezed them through the silken coverings. Caroline, her maidenly modesty aroused, strove with a weak hand to push this intruder away from her orbs of womanhood, but found her tiny fingers, like so many little white captives, enmeshed in her uncle's much larger and stronger digits.

“No, uncle! No! No! I beg of you,” she murmured in a low tone of voice as she snuggled about in an endeavor to evade his touches. “You must not-you must not touch me there. Oh, please don't!”

“Are you seeking an excuse to have me drive both yourself and your sister away from this house, from under my care? To have you sent to the poorhouse, where by right you belong?” he breathed, his voice hoarse with suppressed passion as he still fondled her breasts through the tight coverings.

“No! No!” murmured Caroline, this dread picture causing her to give vent to an involuntary shudder of fear. “We want to both stay here with you, uncle. But, uncle, you know it is not right for you to feel my person in this manner. Please let me go.”

“Silence, girl,” cried Lord Roxboro. “I will be very gentle with you and promise not to hurt you in the least-I merely wish to see how you have grown since I last saw you, my dear girl.”

“But, uncle-” she remonstrated as he unfastened the clasps that held the upper portion of her gown and allowed the front of it to descend, exposing her silken chemise and inserting his hand, caressed in its smooth warmness the panting bare flesh of her tender bosom. “Oh please, uncle, I beg of you,” she cried, and raising her hand, she endeavored to replace her dress, covering his hand in the attempt as he wildly tweaked and pressed and molded her tender pulsating globes.

Despite the beseeching looks from her eyes, turning toward him as if for succor, he continued his manipulations and handlings, and seizing one of the struggling girl's bubbies between his strong fingers, he drew it entirely out of its cosy covering and allowed it, naked and quivering, to lie bare before his sensual and lascivious gaze. Bending over her flaming face, he kissed her repeatedly and passionately. Transferring his attentions to her coral lips, he caressed them repeatedly; titillating the snowy surface of her bosom with his fingers, he held her to his bosom firmly.

The young girl struggled and kicked about in a wild desire to escape the hot burning caresses that were forced upon her by her passionate relative, and wildly beat her tiny hands against the head that was buried in her snowy bosom, his lips seeking out a standing nipple and biting the strawberry tip in gentle constriction. Lord Roxboro, compelled to desist for a moment, allowed her to escape from his embrace, and she sprang to her feet and, throwing herself upon the couch, burst into tears that would have melted a heart of iron.

Her cruel uncle, far from pitying her whom in his passionate desires he had forced to submit to so many strange feelings that had heretofore been unknown to her, surveyed the tearful beauty as she lay there, sobbing as if her heart would break. To his sensual mind she presented a lovely picture as she lay there, her clothing in disorder, her skirts reefed up about her adorable legs, displaying an expanse of well-turned calf; and after viewing this scene for a moment or two he spoke gently to the weeping maiden.

“Caroline! Caroline! Look at me, I want to talk to you.”

“Oh, uncle, uncle,” she sobbed. “I never thought you would treat me in this nasty way.”

“Caroline!” he said in a stern voice. “Do not act like a silly child; do you want me to instantly turn you out of the house, out on the road, into the cold, cruel world? Or do you prefer to do as I wish? Come, answer me at once. Do you want to remain here, with your sweet sister, or do you want to go?”

“Yes, uncle,” she sobbed after an interval. “I want to stay here, but oh, I wish you wouldn't embarrass me so by making me submit to these things that you have been doing-you know I can't leave here-we would have nowhere to go and you really oughtn't to take advantage of me in this way.”

“Well and good,” cried Lord Roxboro, “that's more like a sensible girl. Dry those foolish tears and come over here to me.

The girl slowly arose from the couch and walked hesitantly over to her uncle, the tears still streaming from her reddened eyes.

“Stand here,” he ordered, “directly in front of me.” He spread his legs and drew her to him. Reaching up, he again drew forth the beautiful rounded breasts, allowing them to stand forth wantonly from her open dress. The girl was embarrassed and, closing her eyes, she turned her head, overcome with modesty and shame at this exposure of her maidenly charms.

Lord Roxboro, passing an arm about her pliable lower form, drew the unresisting girl close to him. She held her arms close to her sides, her tiny fists tightly clenched, but when his hot hand fell to her calf and began to stroke her leg, she attempted to draw away.

“No, Caroline,” he soothed, “we have been all over that. Now, bear in mind if my patience is exhausted, something dire will be the consequence; stand close to me and allow me to have my pleasure and it will soon be over.”

She made no reply, simply hoping the ordeal would soon be over. He grasped the silken clad leg in his hand and, moving the fingers slowly upward, marveled at the magnificent proportions of her well-rounded calf. She squirmed slightly under this manipulation of her lower extremities but made no resistance. Passing his hand slowly up to her knee, he dallied for a moment with her garter buckle; then higher and higher he passed his hot hand, caressing the smooth, warm, tender flesh of her upper thigh, which was open to his touch beneath the lower protecting hem of her drawers.