This work of Historical Fiction follows on from my 'I Spy in England 1633' and 'More Spying in England 1634. It may help if you have read these but it's entirely up to you.
There is no academic evidence that any of these events or conversations actually took place: but on the other hand..................
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July 1636
Joseph had really gone too far this time, thought Lady Mary. Over dinner he had encouraged his father to consume way too much red wine. Eventually, Lord John had passed out. It took three serving men to get the old man into the couple's bed.
Just before midnight, while the rest of the castle was quiet, Joseph and the servant Barnaby had stolen into the bedchamber and dragged her from the bed. Wrapping the startled lady in an old carpet they had removed her from the castle via the Sally Port.
That is how she found herself in this predicament. A forty-three year old noblewoman, married to the Lord of Corfe Castle and all the lands for miles around, bent over with her head and hands secured in the Village Pillory. To make matters worse, her nightdress was up over her waist leaving her ample white backside on display in the moonlight. She doubted that there would be anybody around to see it at this hour but one never knew.
She was regretting the arrangement that she had made with her son two years previously after their adventure in Salisbury.
Joseph, their son, had discovered that his parents sometimes liked to inject some spice into their marriage by travelling on journeys which led to unusual sexual adventures.
Being a loving child, Joseph was concerned that this could lead them into unplanned dangers, as it nearly did in Salisbury. He had suggested that his mother allow him to, very occasionally, contrive with Barnaby to engineer sexual escapades which would be exciting but yet safe.
She had agreed. Although, at this moment, only God knew why.
Lady Mary wasn't comfortable. Pillories weren't designed for comfort. They were designed to humiliate. One thing was certain, if anyone saw her like this she would be humiliated to her very core. But in a strange way she found that thought extremely stimulating.
Why was it that Joseph always knew exactly what embarrassed and excited her in equal measure?
As time passed her excitement increased. By now she could feel herself shaking. Whatever degradation Joseph had planned for her she hoped that it would come soon.
Eventually, the clock of the Church of St Edward King & Martyr chimed one o'clock. Lady Mary heard movement behind her. Before she had a chance to speculate if it was one pair of feet or more, soft hands stroked her buttocks.
After a little fumbling she felt an extremely rigid prick being forced into her. By this time she presented no resistance to it at all.
The soft hands gripped her hips and began thrusting with enthusiasm. The lady had no idea who owned the prick but she knew it wasn't Joseph's or Barnaby's. She was certain that it didn't belong to Lord John. While he could still make a good effort this one had all the stiffness of youth.
Mary decided that it mattered little. She knew that she was getting an exciting fucking and she was grateful for it.
"I know not who you are, young sir, but kindly tupp me for all you are worth, " she cried.
He did.
The lad threw so much effort into it that her Ladyship's tits swung back and forth at such a speed that she was concerned that her nipples would catch fire from the fiction between them and her linen nightdress.
She felt her tension mount. She felt his tension mount.
The dam burst for him slightly before it burst for her.
He simply let out a dull deep groan.
She let out a, "Oh God, I am coming to you!"
And then the lad had gone.
Her Ladyship was left there shaking and leaking slightly.
Shortly, she felt herself being released and silently being wrapped in the carpet again. She was thrown over someone's shoulder and soon found herself back in bed beside the snoring Lord John.
As they broke their fast the next morning she gave Joseph a look of motherly disapproval.
He returned her a puzzled expression that said, "What?"
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King Charles still believed that he had no need to consult Parliament on the governance of England (or Scotland or Ireland for that matter).
This bothered Lord John very little. The fewer people that consulted him on any matter that had complications the better he liked it. Acting as a Magistrate had no complications whatsoever. He simply decided if he thought that someone was a Whore or a Thief and they were punished accordingly. Although, he had a reputation for being very lenient in the punishment of Whores. He was nearly as lenient to thieves unless they were violent.
Since the visit to Salisbury, he had found a renewed interest in the two great passions of his life. His telescope and his wife.
During the past two years he had made almost daily trips to the highest castle tower. There he observed the coming and going of ships in the English Channel, the coming and going on the roads and lanes around Corfe Castle as well as the comings and goings of the love lives of the folk of the village.
This morning he was amusing himself by watching the antics of the Widow Jefferies. A most upstanding and puritan woman of fifty who would denounce the evil ways of her neighbours at any opportunity. The woman's husband had died (some might say gladly) and left her quite well off. Despite this the lady was notoriously careful with money, paying as little as she could, if she was forced to pay at all.
Widow Jefferies was extremely vociferous about not allowing any man to cross her threshold since she had been widowed. Lord John had his telescope trained on the back door of her cottage and observed as each tradesman made his delivery during the weekday morning. The Butcher, the Baker, the Chandler all handed over their wares. Standing at her doorstep, out of sight she thought, the lady undid the breeches of the vendor and sucked his cock until his knees buckled. She considered this payment enough and closed the door. Each time his Lordship laughed heartily.
Lady Mary, his greater passion, was an unending joy to him.
She was a woman of grace and sophistication. Warm, generous and with a loving heart. Every person in the village of Corfe Castle loved her for charity and kindness.
Lord John loved her for all of these qualities. But more than this he loved her for her wonderful tits and her amble and comfortable backside. Even more than this he loved her because of her sheer naughtiness.
Mary was fifteen years younger than John. His greatest joy was to have sex with her. During their twenty three years of marriage he had never been unfaithful to his wife.
Lord John was a philosophical man. A well read man. A man of great sophistication. Because of this he knew that his ability to fulfil his wife's desires was sometimes far outstripped by those desires. Therefore, from time to time, he was happy to watch her have her desires fulfilled in often very bizarre ways.
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Far from Dorset, at Hampton Court Palace on the banks of the River Thames, the twenty-seven year old Queen Henrietta Maria, youngest daughter of King IV of France and Queen Consort of King Charles of England, Scotland and Ireland was dressed as a Pageboy of the Royal Household in a livery of yellow and red.
With her brightly coloured breeches pulled slightly down, she was being slowly rumped from behind by Tam Bothy, the King's personal servant.
