A Twist of Fate

The pickpocket was quick, but her target was even quicker. He grabbed her by the wrist before she could escape with his coin purse. Twisting in an attempt to wriggle free did not help, nor did trying to drop the purse; he simply caught it with his other hand while still holding onto her.

“Let me go!” She cried out.

“How old are you?” He asked unexpectedly.

“Old enough to know what you want, and I ain't doing it!”

He chuckled. “You actually don't know what I want, and I think you might be willing to do what I want if you just hear me out.”

He forced her to hold out her hand, and then sprinkled 2 cold coins into her palm from the purse. “These are yours if you just listen to me.”

She stared at the coins in silence for several long moments, her eyes stinging from unshed tears. Just these two coins would feed me for... Her mind boggled just trying to figure it out. Feeling like she was about to sell her soul, she sighed deeply. “Fine... I'll listen, but I make no promises!”

“I understand,” he agreed gently as he released her. Noticing that an officer was eying them in case assistance was required, the man kindly guided the girl in the direction he was headed. “You hungry?”

She nodded vigorously.

“I'll ask again, how old are you?”

She debated lying, but ultimately couldn't decide what age would be the magic number to lose his interest, so she told the truth. “12.”

“I see,” he murmured. “That'll do nicely...”

“I already told you, I ain't doing what you want!” She vowed.

Unexpectedly, he launched into a completely unrelated topic. “I have no heirs. Money... that I have, and plenty of it, but I have no one to leave it to. I thought about remarrying, maybe even someone with children, but I realized that I just don't want the hassle of a wife. Instead, I've been thinking...”

She waited, curious to know where he was going with this conversation.

“Maybe I should adopt. If I adopted a child in need, then I can have the heir that I want, and be helping someone at the same time.”

She exhaled in disappointment. “So what do you want from me? Do you want me to point out a deserving boy to one day take over in your footsteps?”

“Did I say I wanted a boy?” He asked with an amused grin.

“Well, no... but you implied it with the word heir,” she replied.

“Ah. You see, you weren't entirely wrong. There is something that you could do for me that a boy never could, and in exchange, when I die, you'll inherit all my money. You'll be quite wealthy. Rich enough that you could fritter it all away if you wanted, and it would last you pretty much your entire life.”

She stopped walking, and held a hand to her chest. The offer was powerfully tempting, but she had no way of knowing if he would honor his word. Hell! He was probably lying!

“You mean to say... that in exchange for... for being your lover... I'll get all your money when you die?” Her face plainly announced that she was confused and tempted and horrified all at the same time. She was also wary.

“No,” he stated. “In exchange for mutual pleasure, I'll adopt you. I'll raise you as a lady and teach you how to behave in high society. You'll keep your virginity as a gift to give your future husband, and then – when I die – you'll be my only heir.”

She closed her eyes in order to think with a semblance of privacy. Finally, she made her decision; a tear streaking down her cheek. “Please don't let this be some cruel joke,” she whispered.

He smiled warmly. “Excellent! From this day forward, you shall be known as my daughter, Euphemia. I'll have my lawyer draw up adoption papers to make it all official... but first...”

The girl who was now named Euphemia – Ugh! Such a strange name! - braced herself, certain that he was about to tell her to make good on her side of the bargain.

“I think a bath and some new clothes are in order. It just so happens that the modiste can provide you with both.” Hailing a carriage for hire, he waited for one to come to him.

Euphemia felt like everything happened so quickly, but soon, she was in the back room of an outrageously expensive seamstress being bathed and then fitted for a whole wardrobe. I've never even touched a dress this pretty before, let alone worn one!

Tears started falling, one after another, without end, until the modiste scolded her for getting the fabric wet.

“I'm sorry, I'm just so happy right now!” Euphemia wailed. At this moment, she didn't care what the older man wanted her to do!

*******

“I couldn't decide what to get you for your 16^th birthday, so I didn't get you anything at all.”

“What!” Euphemia demanded angrily. He had already given her so much in the few years they'd been together that she honestly shouldn't be mad, but he had bragged for weeks about how lavish her present was going to be. To hear him suddenly announce that she wasn't getting anything after all was maddening!

“Only joking! You should see the look on your face!” He laughed at her heartily.

If looks could kill, hers would have murdered him. “You're just lucky that I don't believe in harming the elderly!”

“Elderly? Bah! I'm only 60!” He protested.

“Exactly my point!” She retorted, her tongue sticking out at him.

He rolled his eyes. “I still feel like I'm in my 20s!”

She merely shrugged.

“Turn around,” he ordered in a suggestive tone of voice.

“Again?” She wondered incredulously.

He chuckled, but motioned for her to comply. Once her back was to him, he slipped something around her neck. She touched it with her hand, and almost choked on a gasp.

“Do you like it? It was my mother's,” he informed her.

She examined the diamond necklace in a mirror. It was an inch or so squared – tilted so that it was actually diamond shaped – and surrounded by an elaborate design of gold chains and smaller diamonds.

“This is far too much!” She whispered in disbelief. He laughed as if she had told the funniest joke ever.

“Too much? This is part of my family's heirloom. It would be yours eventually, so why not now?”

When he'd first promised to adopt her, he'd mentioned his wealth, but even now, she had trouble envisioning it. Even living in his mansion, wearing fine clothes, and being waited on by various servants hadn't quite driven the point home. She kept thinking that he was merely rich, and that there was a limit to how much he could spend, but then he gave her things like this necklace, which must cost more money than she could possibly earn – or count – in her life!

“Thank you so much!” Euphemia cried, hugging him enthusiastically. The day was one big celebration, and he took her out to do whatever she wanted; shopping, see a play, whatever.

Eventually, the sun set, and they were back home. Euphemia had her maid help her undress, and then put on a robe. “Thank you, Tina, you may go now.”

“Yes miss!” Her maid replied obediently, and then rushed off.

In the opinion of the servants, one of the best things about working here was that their master insisted that everyone stop working and retire for the evening at 8 PM; no matter what they might have left to do. They dropped what they were doing, and went to the servants quarters. They didn't actually have to go to sleep, they could read or even play cards, just as long as it was quiet and they didn't disturb their employer's sleep.

Or so they were told. In reality, he just wanted privacy so that no one would ever suspect that there was more to his relationship with Euphemia.

She entered his room at exactly 8:15, smiling at him in anticipation.

“I thought about tying you up tonight, but I decided that I'd much rather pretend that you are like your birthday cake – sweet and irresistible!”

Euphemia laughed, and then tossed her robe onto a chair. She climbed into bed, stoking his naked body.

“Not so fast!” He admonished. “You're a birthday cake, remember?”

Allowing him to position her however he wanted, Euphemia soon found herself on her back with her legs resting on his shoulders. She sighed in anticipation of the pleasure that he would soon give her. Not a night had passed since they first met without him licking her until she saw stars. She had been shocked and amazed at first, but now she relished their nights together; craving them with an addiction.

He slowly tasted her; savoring her exactly like the cake he said she was. His tongue explored her, not hurried in the slightest. He licked her clitoris lightly, teasing her without truly stimulating her. She moaned and pouted, begging him for more, but he ignored her impatience.

His tongue probed her opening, and she pushed into his mouth encouragingly. He impaled her a few times, but then returned to her little bud. It was silently begging him to suck on it, so he did; carefully at first, but with increasing roughness.

Normally, she was mindful of the servants, and kept fairly quiet so that they couldn't possibly hear her from the other side of the house. Tonight, there was no way she could be quiet! She was already crying, and it was only getting louder as the seconds passed.

Smothering herself with a pillow seemed like the only way to muffle the sound of her frantic wails. A moment later, she was screaming, curling into a half moon as the strongest orgasm she'd had in a while ravaged her.

He continued to suck on her until she stopped screaming, gasping repeatedly for breath. Suddenly, his tongue plunged back inside her, and thrust in and out of her as deeply as it could go.

“Oh god!” She chanted. This feels so incredible! How does he always manage to make me feel like this!

A fire seemed to build in her veins, getting hotter and hotter until she felt that she was about to explode. She gripped his hair with both of her hands and locked her legs around his neck while her body shook violently. Stars... every single time, I see stars...

She almost blacked out, but then relaxed into the bed. It was his turn now, and she turned onto her side then opened her mouth eagerly, hoping to pay him back in kind. She sucked on him strongly, watching his eyes practically roll into his head. He gripped her hair with one hand, bracing his back with the other.

His little gasps and grunts made her smile, and she knew it wouldn't be long. Sure enough, he soon filled her mouth, and she swallowed it like she knew he wanted. His triumphant roar almost made her giggle.

He collapsed onto the bed, panting. She kissed him, and then returned to her own room. If he wanted her again before the servants got up, he'd come to her; like he had early this morning.

When morning arrived, she stretched like a cat, already wet and ready for him to come pleasure her again. The sun glinted in her eye, making her close them again. Hmm... Strange...

It was a rare morning that he didn't come to her, but occasionally, he woke up too late, or simply had too much business to take care of. They couldn't play all of the time after all.

Her maid dressed her, and she practically skipped as she walked to the breakfast room. Humming didn't seem like enough, so she burst into a happy little nonsense ditty.

“You're in such a good mood today, miss,” the butler remarked.

“Yes, I feel simply marvelous!” She replied, showing off her now perfect high class accent and mannerisms.

They waited for a few minutes, and then the butler frowned. “I wonder what's keeping the master?”

“Maybe he decided to sleep in. He is getting old after all,” Euphemia suggested.

The butler suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, but was in his 60s himself. A disapproving hmm escaped him despite his wish to remain silent.

Euphemia could practically feel breakfast getting cold, but she remained patient. Suddenly, a wail emanated from down the hall. A maid sobbed as she emerged in the hall and fell to her knees.

“The master!” Was all she could say.

Euphemia felt her heart stop. Her blood felt cold. “No!” It felt like her feet couldn't carry her fast enough, but she was by his side in seconds.

“No!” She cried in near panic. “You can't be! Wake up!” She insisted, grabbing onto his shoulders and shaking him. “Wake up, damnit!” She swore, reverting to her street language as she berated him for not waking up.

“Miss... Miss!!!” The servant in charge – an matronly woman in her 40s – demanded Euphemia's attention. All the servants were gathered in and around the room by now.

“Why won't he wake up?” Euphemia demanded, unwilling to admit the truth.

“Miss...” The woman forced her to let go of their dead master, and then pulled her into a comforting hug. “It was simply his time to go.”

“No!” Euphemia wailed, utterly bereft.

A few days passed in near silence as almost no one wanted to say a word lest they start crying. The day before the funeral, Euphemia's adopted father's lawyer arrived with someone she'd never met before.

“Miss Euphemia Haversham?” The lawyer asked, though he knew full well who she was. She nodded, and then weakly indicated that they should be seated in the parlor where she'd been moping.

“I know that now is not a good time, but I must follow your father's wishes. He asked that – in the event he died while you were still under the age of majority – his will be read before his funeral was conducted.

“Miss Haversham, meet Lawrence... Haversham. Your brother.”

“What?!” Euphemia demanded incredulously.

“Well, adopted brother. He is the natural son of your father.”

Euphemia felt her eyes well up again. “But... but... he never told me... He never once mentioned that he had a son. In fact, he said he didn't have any heirs!”

“In that, he was correct,” his lawyer stated. “Mr. Haversham disowned his son many years ago. Shortly after he turned 18, I believe, and they haven't spoken since.”

“That's terrible!” Euphemia burst out. “I had no idea he was capable of something so cruel!”

Lawrence chuckled. “I thought so too, at first, but then – much much later – I realized that he was right. In my youth, I was utterly wild. I drank too much, and became addicted to drugs and gambling. Father disowned me as a way to wake me up. Force me to clean up my act and become a decent human being. It worked... eventually...”

“Then... why didn't he take you back after you'd cleaned up?” Euphemia wondered, her mind thinking of something other than death for the first time in days.

Lawrence shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe because I managed to earn a fortune of my own and didn't really need his help... Maybe because I never apologized and asked him to take me back.”

The lawyer decided to continue. “Your father's will is surprisingly simple. Everything is left to Miss Euphemia Haversham. The only reason Lawrence is even hear – other than to attend the funeral – is that it was your father's wish that if he died before you turned 18, miss, that your brother here take charge of your estate and guide you until you do.”

“Wait...” Euphemia was confused. “I don't understand. I'm an orphan again... Aren't I supposed to be sent off to some home for orphans until I grow up?”

“Perhaps that would be the case if you didn't have a relative, or didn't have an estate to take care of you,” the lawyer replied. “The fact of the matter is, you are now unbelievably wealthy... you'll never be placed in some home again.”

Euphemia had trouble breathing. She held a hand to her chest. “Why did he have to die? I'd rather not be wealthy and have him here with me...”

“I'm sure you would,” Lawrence muttered. His tone indicated that he didn't buy her act.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Euphemia wondered coldly.

“Just that he's dead and you are legally his heir. There's no way I can change that even if I wanted to, so you don't need to pretend to care for him any longer.”

Euphemia gaped at him in shock.

The lawyer cleared his throat. “That was highly uncalled for. I've been around Mr. Haversham and Miss Euphemia enough to know for certain that there were very fond of one another. I'm also certain that Miss Euphemia is not simply pretending to grieve.”

Lawrence shrugged.

“Please go,” Euphemia asked quietly.

“Well,” her lawyer responded uncertainly. “You see, with your brother now officially in charge of your estate, you can't actually make him leave.”

“I see...” Euphemia mumbled, standing so that she could leave the room. She started crying again long before she reached the door to her bedroom.

The next morning, her maid had to get help to dress her, and then they dragged her to the breakfast room. Lawrence entered – having stayed in a guest room – to find almost a dozen maids frantically begging their mistress.

“You must eat something! You haven't eaten more than a bite or two since it happened! Please miss...”

Euphemia pushed her plate away. She was too numb to care what anyone thought or said right now.

“Miss! Your father would be heartbroken if he could see you right now! Eat so that you can say a proper goodbye to him!”

“Don't you understand?! The only parent I've ever had has just died! How am I supposed to eat? How am I supposed to say goodbye? I miss him so much that my heart hurts! I feel like I'm about to die from it, and I don't even care!” Euphemia shouted.

“At least drink some milk,” the matron offered, insisting with surprising firmness.

Euphemia gave in because she was too depressed to fight. The funeral passed, and then Euphemia returned to her room for a week. On the 7^th day, she joined Lawrence for dinner.

“Are you feeling better now?” He asked.

“No, I'm feeling worse than ever!” She insisted, but at least her face didn't look like she'd been crying, so Lawrence didn't feel too concerned.

“Why?” He wondered curiously.

Euphemia waited for all the servants to leave the room for a bit in between courses. Once she was certain no one would overhear, she decided to reply. “Every night, we had a ritual. I got addicted to it, and now I can't seem to sleep! I feel like I physically need him to continue the ritual, or else I'm going to go insane!”

Lawrence frowned in concern. “What ritual?”

Euphemia made an impatient sound. “I can't explain it! It's just something we did!”

“Do you think it would help if I performed this ritual with you tonight?” Lawrence offered.

Euphemia was startled; she'd never considered this possibility. “I don't know... maybe...”

Lawrence was curious as to why she avoided looking at him. “I tell you what, why don't I give it a try? Maybe it'll help you sleep, and then tomorrow you'll feel like a new person.”

She nodded vaguely, still not looking at him.

Lawrence had long since changed his opinion of her. No one could put up such a convincing act for so long for no reason unless there was some real feelings behind it. In which case, it wasn't an act.

The servants all sighed in relief when they discovered that she'd eaten a decent amount of food. She'd been picking tidbits for days, and they were worried that she would make herself sick. Hopeful that things might soon get back to normal, they retired at precisely 8PM.

“Why do they do that?” Lawrence wondered, finding it odd.

“They were told to. It's a long standing rule,” Euphemia explained. They were sitting in a parlor at this point, which was uncomfortable to Lawrence since they hadn't talked much at all, just sat in silence since they'd finished dinner. Normally, he had a ton of work to do, but he was taking some time off until he felt certain that his “sister” could survive without someone constantly looking after her.

Euphemia waited until 8:15, and then stood up. She was wearing a very simplistic dress since she hadn't wanted to dress at all much less in a complicated outfit ever since the funeral. As a result, her maid hadn't felt it necessary to insist she undress the young miss and put her to bed like normal.

Euphemia looked at Lawrence with an indecipherable expression. “If you truly think you can perform our ritual... then show me which room you've been staying in.”

“Uh... why?” Lawrence wondered.

“Because we can't do it in my room, and I don't want to do it in his,” Euphemia stated, her voice slightly excited now. She sounded almost eager, and Lawrence could see how important this ritual was to her. He nodded, and led the way.

Once inside, he shut the door hesitantly, uncertain if he should leave it open or not. Euphemia swept her long hair over one shoulder.

“I could undo my dress myself, but it would be easier if you did it for me.”

“Wait a minute!” Lawrence protested. “Just what does this ritual entail?!”

“Well...” Euphemia put a finger to her bottom lip and looked at the ceiling as she thought about how to describe it. “I guess he always called it mutual satisfaction. I would satisfy him and then he would satisfy me... though sometimes it was the other way around.”

“So I was right! You were only with my father for the money, and he was only with you for the thrills!” Lawrence roared. The glint in his eye changed from shocked to triumphant, and a little excited.

He strode up to Euphemia until her back was against his body. “If that's what you want, fine.” He turned her head so that he could kiss her, and then opened the back of her dress.

“It really wasn't like that, no matter what you think,” Euphemia whispered.

Lawrence pushed her dress to the floor, revealing her naked body. He groaned in appreciation. Due to other circumstances, it had been awhile since he'd last had sex. He scooped her into his arms, and then carried her to his bed.

“So then, you plan to lick me first?” Euphemia asked.

“Why not?” Lawrence replied, not realizing that Euphemia was describing her ritual. He buried his face between her legs, inhaling her sweet scent. She trembled slightly, and he realized that this was probably the first time she'd been with a different man.

Suddenly feeling like an overeager idiot, he vowed to take his time and show her that he knew how to please a woman. He slowly began to worship her, reveling in how incredibly delectable she was.

It took Euphemia some time to relax, but eventually she was enjoying herself. Her moans got louder and louder until she was close to screaming. She quickly muffled the sound with a pillow, which made Lawrence laugh.

“Don't. I want to hear you,” he informed her.

“The servants...” she gasped between pants, and then screamed into the pillow once more.

Aha... so that's why they retire so early! Lawrence realized.

He continued to lick and nip her clitoris until she shook almost violently from the force of her climax. He repositioned himself just as she tossed the pillow aside. Her lips looked full and oh so kissable, so he greedily took possession of them.

She returned his kiss, but then tried to push him away so that she could return the favor. Her eyes widened as she realized that he was pushing into her. “No-!” She tried to protest, but he kissed her again.

Her whole body stiffened from the shock of having him suddenly inside her. Lawrence tilted his head and stared at her in confusion. She held her breath until her body adjusted to him, and then exhaled slowly.

Her voice shook. “This wasn't supposed to happen. He always said that my virginity was a gift to be given to my future husband. It was the only thing truly my own to give!”

“I'm sorry, I didn't know. I assumed that he must have taken it long ago.”

Euphemia closed her eyes, and then opened them when she realized that he wasn't moving. “Well... the damage is done I guess. Now what?”

“This may sound self-serving, but it really would be a bad idea to leave things like this. You'd have lost your virginity without any of the fun that goes with it,” Lawrence reasoned.

“I... agree,” she confessed, sounding like it was the hardest thing in the world to admit. She placed her arms around Lawrence's neck, and then pulled him closer for a kiss.

Lawrence moved slowly inside her, moaning into her mouth. He'd never actually been with a virgin before. “You're so tight!”

She laughed. “Are you sure it's me that's tight? You are a bit bigger than I am used to after all. Maybe I just feel small to you.”

He shook his head, but didn't feel like arguing the point. He thrust into her leisurely at first, but the more he thought about how no man had ever been inside her before, the more he wanted to possess her completely. He wanted her to be his and only his forever after.

His thrusts changed, and it felt to her like he was consuming her body and soul. He was forceful, demanding, and greedy! She opened up to him completely, letting him devour her mouth as he pounded into her.

Her heart beat wildly, and was so loud she though for sure that he could hear it. It felt like it was going to break through her chest! She wanted to prevent that from happening, and held him to her as tightly as possible.

Soon, neither could stop their cries of ecstasy. Their lips separated as they each gasped “Ah!” repeatedly. Suddenly, Lawrence roared, and she felt flooded with heat. Her body relished the feel, and she stopped breathing as pleasure rocked her to her core.

Together, they melted into the bed. Both drifting off to sleep before they could even separate their bodies.

In the morning, a gasp woke Lawrence. He cracked one eye open to see Euphemia staring at him in disbelief. “So it did happen... I thought maybe I dreamed it.”

His lips twisted into a wry smile, and he kissed her. “I'd like to do it again and then go find breakfast.”

She was quiet for a moment, and then exhaled softly. “Yeah, I guess we can.”

“What's wrong?” He wondered.

“It's just that the sun is already up which means that the servants are going to discover that I'm not in my bed soon, if they haven't already. They'll notice me come out of your room, and then I'll be...” a dirty woman. She couldn't bring herself to say it out loud.

“Officially engaged?” Lawrence questioned.

“What?!” Euphemia gasped, unable to believe her ears.

“Well, you did say that your virginity was supposed to be a gift for your future husband, right? I'd say it's only right that since I took that gift, I should be the one to marry you.”

“But...” she protested. “But you don't have to do that! I... I'll never be tossed out on the streets again. I don't need to worry about providing for myself. You don't need to protect my reputation.”

“Maybe not, but I want to,” he explained, kissing her until she stopped protesting.

She was suddenly ready for him, and wiggled her hips in a silent invitation. He entered her eagerly, unable to wait even a moment more. Both moaned in anticipation of the pleasure to come.

A gasp startled them. “Master Lawrence! Miss Euphemia! I'm sorry! I should have knocked!” Euphemia's maid blurted out, and then hastily exited the room. She'd been frantic with worry over her missing charge, and now she was nearly frantic with indecision.

“Did you find her?” The woman in charge asked.

“Yes, um... she's... busy... I think we should leave her alone for a while...”

The matron frowned. “I see.”

Euphemia giggled. “I guess the cat's out of the bag! There's no use trying to hide it now!”

Lawrence simply kissed her, unconcerned about the scandalized servants. They forgot the rest of the world, and let their bodies melt together.