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Lady J

By: Arovingi



I met Lady J through a recommendation but had not spoken to her prior to our first meeting. Our arrangements were made through e-mail and there was little description of what to expect. I had only seen a picture of her face but was impressed by what I saw. I had no other idea of what was to come. As I drove down her driveway, my heart quickened over its already fast pace. Dry-mouthed, I knocked on the door. It was answered by Lady J herself. Surprisingly, she was wearing a sweat suit but her curvy shape could be made out nevertheless. "Come on in", she said in an amazingly neutral tone.

I walked in and, seeing a sofa, sat down. "Exactly what are you doing", she asked sharply. "You said to come in", I muttered. Hardly listening she said, " From now on, when you enter my home, you will strip down. Your collar will be next to the door and you will put it on." I nodded in understanding.

"Now let me see your pitiful naked body", she commanded. Under her gaze, I went back to the door and took off my clothes. She did not suggest a place to put them so I simply laid them on the floor. "Just like I thought," she sneered, "Absolutely grotesque!" That was the first time I had ever heard a description of me quite like that since most women found me fairly attractive.

"Now get to the floor", she hissed. I laid down in a crouched position with my face to the floor. I heard Lady J go to the sofa. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her take off her sweat pants. "Now crawl here", she commanded. I crawled over to her keeping my eyes to the ground. As I reached her she stopped me with her bare foot. She then fastened a collar around my neck and pulled my face to her crotch. There I saw her pink panties. "You will smell me and, from now on, this will be your cherished odor", she commanded. She held my face to her and I breathed deeply. The pungent aroma was absolutely beautiful. She pulled her panties aside and said, "Now taste".

I began to lick her and consume her. It was glorious. I felt my hanging cock begin to harden. I wanted more and inserted my tongue deep into her. Lady J suddenly slapped my face. "What are you doing" she spit out. "You can never do that without my prior approval. For that you will be punished and I assure you that you will remember your lesson." She pushed me to the floor and said, "On the counter is a bottle of scotch. Pour me a drink." I got up and went to the counter and poured a drink. I was tempted to take a sip but knew I was probably being watched.

I returned and handed the drink to Lady J. She ordered me back into the crouched position. I heard her take a sip and leave the room. I was unsure what to do only hearing noises and rustling in the other room. After a short while I heard her return. I thought how ridiculous I must have looked with my ass in the air. Such thoughts were short lived.

In almost and instant I felt a plunge deep into my ass. Although never having one inserted before, I knew without a second thought that it was a butt plug. "Get used to it" she barked. "Yes Lady", I responded.

"Now get up and stand before me", she said a little more softly. With some discomfort I stood up and stood before her. As she was seated, my cock was directly in front of her eyes. She stared at my cock and I did not say a word. After some time she announced, "From now on, this is my cock. You do not have one. You cannot play with mine unless I say so and you have asked for permission. Do you understand?" I responded softly, "Yes Maam."

"Now", she asked, "do you want to play with a cock?" I nodded yes. "Are you sure?" she asked. I said "yes". Then she asked, "And do you want to play with my cock?", I again said yes feeling myself growing harder. Continuing she asked, "And should I play with you?" I nodded even more thinking of my Mistress playing with my cock - her cock.

"I am glad to hear it", she said sweetly. "Get on your knees" she demanded. As I was getting on my knees, Lady J pulled out a big black dildo. This certainly was not what I had expected. She took the dildo and inserted it fully into her. "Now get every bit of my nectar off of my other cock", she said as she pulled it out of her. She held it before me and I did not know how or where to begin.

"Start now or leave my service," she barked. That was unimaginable to me. I began licking the dildo lightly tasting my Lady's juices and making it at least more palatable that way. She sneered, "Come on you pussy, you can do better than that." She jammed the dildo into my mouth. "Suck!" she ordered. I began giving the dildo head. I heard Lady J say, "That's better slave" as she began using her foot on my cock. Once again, I began to harden. I realized that the better I gave head to the dildo the more pleasure Lady J would give me. I began sucking the cock as I had seen on movies. "That's fine slave", Mistress said, "I knew you could suck cock. Give it back to me". I handed the dildo back to her.

"You may begin to play with my cock," she said nonchalantly. I began to play with myself but was interrupted by Lady removing the but plug from me. I stopped with the relief. "Now who told you to stop", she inquired. I did not know how to answer. "You play with my cock until you cum, you pig". She handed me a cup and said, "And you cum in this cup and don't spill a drop on my carpet or you will clean it with your tongue." I again continued only again to be interrupted once more. This time with Mistress inserting the Dildo into my ass. In pain I shouted, "Ah, my ass." She said, "Its not your ass, its your pussy. From now on, you refer to it as your pussy. My slaves do not have an ass, only pussys. And don't stop playing with my cock!"

She began inserting the dildo into my pussy as I once more started jerking off. She began moving it in and out of me and I felt myself give in to a moan cumming like I never have cum in my life but making sure to get every drop into the cup Lady gave to me. Without ceremony Lady J quickly pulled the dildo out of me, saying, "Good slave, drink up." I was stunned. I had never even tasted my cum or any other. "Now!" she ordered. I tilted the cup back and let the cum pour slowly into my mouth. It did not taste as badly as I would have thought.

When I looked up. Lady J was out of the room. I heard her call from another room. "Slave, come here." I went in and saw Lady J on the toilet. A stream of liquid was released from her. Without pause she said, "I am hungry." I want you to make me something to eat. But first, I never use toilet paper." She stood up and I instantly knew what she meant. I again got on my knees and lightly cleaned my Lady's urine from her - careful not to do anything more than cleaning her. By now, I loved everything which came from Lady J.

"Flush the toilet and start cooking." She added, "And don't' you eat or drink anything yourself". Being fairly able in the kitchen, I made the Lady some pasta primavera. I set the table and lit the candles which were there. Lady was reading and I told her that dinner was ready. She got up without a word and went to the table, sat down and ate. I stood next to her and she asked, "Are you hungry?" I said that I was.

She pointed to two dog bowls with scraps in one and water in the other. "Help yourself slave". More thirsty then hungry I began to drink from the bowl. From behind I heard Mistress say, "You please me slave". I was proud of that.

Lady Jane



As I slipped the Landrover into first gear and indicated to leave the station carpark I looked across to watch the figure of my employer, Lord Ralph Boddington Smythe, disappear inside the station building. I smiled to myself at my fortune, only three weeks ago I was a stable hand, an assistant to the stable manager, now I was holding the managers’ position myself. Dave had left in mysterious circumstances, my usual day off had started like any other but on my return to work the next day Dave was history and I had been promoted to a dream position.

Driving back I thought about my employer, Lord Ralph was near retirement and only spent three days a week at his office. It was rumoured that he had a thing for young men, ‘entertaining’ them in his city apartment, certainly he stayed over at the apartment on a regular basis. However his powerful position, friends and skill in the law prevented anyone, who cared for their own reputation, from daring to openly make allegations in this area. His wife, Lady Jane, was what was known as a “trophy wife”, many years his younger with a taste for the good life. If anyone knew the truth about Lord Ralph she would, but it suited her to keep quiet and continue the life of the country lady.

I pulled the Landrover into the garage and noted to my surprise that her Ladyships’ prize stallion was still in the stable. This would mean that she had been delayed in leaving for her usual cross-country ride and, more importantly, mean a delay in my plans for the afternoon. As I stepped out of the vehicle I noticed the note on the board above my workbench summoning me to her quarters as soon as I returned. This did not look good, staff came and went at an incredible rate and I wondered if my dream job was about to come crashing down around my ears. I crossed the courtyard too preoccupied to notice the two pairs of eyes watching my progress.

I knocked and stepped into the room, no one appeared to be there, then I noticed a second door set in the corner from which I heard her voice call me. As I stepped through and moved into the room, the door closed behind me, I turned to see her Ladyship leaning against the door, holding it shut. She was dressed to go riding, boots, tight black jodhpurs, a white blouse and a leather crop in her right hand, which she was gently tapping against her leg. She looked at me for a while.

“The horse is lame” she said, “why is my prize horse lame?” 

“I was not aware” I replied, “it seemed ok this morning.”

"Well it is not, it is lame and I am now unable to go riding, someone has to pay for this and that someone is you. I hope you have no plans for the afternoon because as of now they are cancelled."

I looked at her and was about to tell her of my plans but thought better of it. "Should I call the vet?" I asked.

She laughed a vicious little laugh. "Someone has to pay personally, someone has to feel the frustration of a cancelled afternoon's riding, someone has to feel the pain my horse is going through."

I nervously eyed the riding crop, "You can't…….."

"Can't what? Oh but I can. Of course you can always return to the dole queue and no chance of a future around here when I have finished talking to any prospective employers you might approach. Now remove your shoes socks and shirt and hold out your wrists."

I looked at her, weighing up my position for a few moments before removing my footwear, unbuttoning my shirt and letting it drop to the floor. I placed both wrists together in front of me and felt my throat go dry.

After placing a set of leather wrist cuffs on me she led me to the centre of the room. "Hold them above your head" she instructed.

I did as I was told and watched as she fastened the cuffs to a hook in the ceiling. Watching me with a small smile as I tested the security of the bindings she announced "Don't worry it wont be all pain, there will be some pleasure" she then stroked the end of the crop over my left nipple, "well for one of us at least." 

Unable to move more than a shuffle I tried to watch her as she walked around me, I felt the cold leather of the crop tracing lines down my spine wondering if she was really going to hit me with it. After a couple of circuits she stopped in front of me and gently kissed my throat. I felt her tongue trace a line lower down my chest and across to my nipple. She kissed it gently tracing a line around it with her tongue, flicking it gently. Then, just as I was wondering what was on her mind, she sucked hard and bit the nipple with her sharp teeth, gripping for a second before releasing it and stepping back.

My cry of pain only made her smile as she repeated this on the other nipple. "Imagine how my horse feels with that lame leg, how the pain must shoot through him."

I felt her hands start to undo my trouser belt. She was still working on my nipples as she did this, the contrast of pain in my nipples with the anticipated pleasure that always comes when a beautiful woman loosens your trousers belt was sending my brain into a spin. The trousers dropped to the floor and she stepped back to look at me, suspended from the ceiling wearing only a g-string.

As she walked back behind me and pulled me against her body I could feel the bulge of her full breasts through the thin material of her blouse. A hand moved to caress my nipples, gently playing with them, tracing a finger gently over them before pinching them between sharp nails. I winced again, the sharp pain hiding the fact that her other hand was tracing the outline of my cock through the thin fabric of my g-string. Finding the head of my cock her finger nails scratched back and forth slowly, gently, contrasting wildly with the nails playing with my nipples.

Loosening the grip on my chest she moved to one side of me the fingers on my cock continuing to gently caress it causing me to close my eyes with the feelings of pleasure racing through it. Suddenly I felt the riding crop on my exposed buttock, the sharp stinging pain making me gasp.

Placing fingers on the waist of the g-string she lowered it to expose my engorged throbbing cock. "I think you are enjoying this too much" she announced before again applying the crop to my exposed buttocks.

Moving to the side of the room she returned with a spreader bar and proceeded to secure my ankles, I was truly at her mercy now being unable to move in any direction. Returning to my cock she used her finger nails to trace lines along the head, not once did she stroke the shaft, not once did she apply enough pressure to take me to orgasm.

 Periodically she used the crop, the pain short and sharp. Periodically she returned to tease my nipples, alternately licking and kissing them gently before nipping them with her teeth.

Just as I thought I would not be able to stand it any longer she stood back and placed the crop on the floor. "Time for a change" she announced and proceeded to undo my wrists from the cuffs. I flexed my aching muscles and lowered my arms. 

"Make the most of that" she said before leading me to the wall. I looked around and realised that I was about to be re-secured, this time with my arms outstretched sideways, almost like a crucifix. I groaned. Lady Jane stood back, surveyed her work and nodded to herself. “Just one last thing” she said and dropped to her knees. I felt her hot breath on my cock and closed my eyes in anticipation of the blowjob that I was convinced would follow.

Instead I felt her fingers wrapping something stiff around the shaft of my cock, opening my eyes and looking down saw that she was securing my cock into a leather sheath, like a miniature corset, I felt the straps tighten, squeezing hard on my now throbbing member. She moved her hands away for a second and revealed that only the head of my cock was exposed. Then a chord was added to secure the sheath to a ring set between and behind my knees, my cock was now pointing directly to the floor. I groaned, prior to this at least I had limited movement in my hips, now I was totally incapacitated. 

Suddenly there was a light knock at the door, “Enter” Lady Jane summoned standing up and turning away from me, Nikki walked into the room carrying an ice bucket, she was dressed in a cheerleaders outfit, I had said only the week before how I was turned on by them. At first she didn’t notice me, fastened hard against the wall unable to move then she looked over and gave a little gasp.

“What are you…….” She cried, “you were supposed to ……”

“Meet you in the stable?” Lady Jane finished the sentence with a wry smile on her face, do you both honestly think I have really been away riding in the afternoons? I hate riding, I hate horses.”

Nikki and I both stared at her.

 “The horse is a trophy horse, a plaything to show how wealthy my husband is, another toy to keep me happy, to show off to our so called friends. And no it is not really lame that is just the excuse to get you here to get you under my control. You want to know what has really made me frustrated lately? Not the inability to go riding but the sight of you two in the stable. I knew all along your plans for the afternoon but I decided to disrupt them, I had plans of my own.”

Nikki started to back out the room but Lady Jane her exit. “You also cannot afford to loose your job here. You can’t afford it financially or personally. Your father is the vicar I do believe.”

Nikki nodded.

“If you leave I will be forced to post my special video footage on the net. How will he feel when word gets around that there are pictures of his eldest daughter in compromising positions with my stable manager on all the top web sites around the world? Now take off your tee shirt and hold out your wrists.”

Nikki was almost white, shaking with fear. Whether it was the threat from Lady Jane or the fear of what to come I don’t know, but she slowly lifted her tee shirt and held her wrists out as instructed. Her breasts were adorned with a tiny bra, she didn’t need it for support but she knew how fond I was of lingerie. Each cup was trimmed with a thin layer of lace that just covered her nipples.

Lady Jane placed the same cuffs on Nikki as she had used on me and proceeded to secure them to the same ceiling hook. Lady Jane surveyed the scene, flexing the crop in her hands. Nikkis’ eyes opened wide at the site of it. “Oh don’t worry Nikki this is reserved for punishment, you have done nothing to deserve punishment …… yet.”

Lady Jane approached Nikki and then turned so that she was half facing me, She placed her finger on the lace on Nikkis’ bra and gently lowered it to expose her erect nipples. Taking an ice cube from the bucket brought in by Nikki. Lady Jane rubbed each nipple in turn. Nikki winced at the cold touch, then with her eyes fixed firmly on mine Lady Jane lowered her head extended her tongue and lapped at Nikkis’ nipples before taking one into her mouth.  Using her lips she pulled gently, stretching the breast until her lips could no longer hold it and the nipple pulled free. She repeated this alternating from breast to breast all the time watching me.

After a while Lady Jane withdrew her mouth, moved to a position behind Nikki and started to slowly slide the zip down on the short skirt, letting it drop to the floor, she then eased down her tiny thong exposing her smooth shaven pussy and tight firm ass. Finally she unhooked her bra and tied it around Nikkis’ wrists leaving Nikki naked apart from her plimsolls and socks.

Watching my face Lady Jane asked “Do you know how it made me feel each time I watched you kiss her pussy? Watching you slide your tongue into her and the look on her face as you tenderly lapped at her clit. You probably don’t but before long you will, you are going to feel the frustration I felt.”

Picking up a bottle of warm massage oil Lady Jane moved behind Nikki. She was about to pour a liberal amount onto her palm but hesitated. “It would be a shame to get oil on these fine clothes. Oh Ralph will buy me more but that’s not the point.”

Lady Jane slowly undid the buttons on her blouse and slipped it from her shoulders, her breasts were as full as I had imagined. She was wearing a lacy white demi-cup bustier that covered the lower area of her breasts but left her nipples exposed like hard little bullets. Folding the blouse neatly she then proceeded to wriggle out of her tight pants, they slid down to reveal a tiny silk thong, suspenders and stockings. The lingerie was from the finest of Paris fashion houses. I wondered if she had ever worn it for Ralph or if indeed he was the remotest bit interested in it.

After neatly folding her clothes and putting them to one side Lady Jane picked up a spreader bar and secured Nikkis’ ankles, truly incapacitated Nikki was trembling gently. Lady Jane picked up the oil again and poured some into her palms then, walking up to Nikkis’ back, she gently kissed the nape of her neck before reaching around to massage the oil onto her breasts, Nikki gasped and closed her eyes. Lady Jane's movements were slow and deliberate, gently working the oil into the delicate skin, lingering a split second at her nipples before cupping each breast and lifting it gently. Lady Jane spent a long time massaging and caressing Nikkis’' breasts, gently pulling on her taught nipples, no sign of the pain she had inflicted on my nipples only minutes before.

Her hands started to move lower, working their way towards Nikkis’ shaven pussy but, just as I thought she would caress her there, she slid them around to massage Nikkis’ tight little ass. Lady Jane bent her knees and kissed Nikki in the small of the back before sliding her hands between her thighs and brushing her pussy with the lightest of touches. Even despite the brief light tough it seemed to send a shiver though Nikki, as though she had be touched by an electric current.

"Have you any idea of the tingling in my pussy when I watched him slip that cock into you from behind?" she whispered in Nikkis’ ear, gently nipping at her ear lobe, ”How I watched it slip into you but was not able to feel it? How horny and wet it made me?" Lady Jane reached out and picked up a small vibrator, turning it on she ran it over Nikkis’’ inner thighs, Nikki gasped. Slowly, very slowly she slid it into Nikki who was now biting her bottom lip. The vibrator was small enough to slip completely into Nikki, all that was left showing were some thin chords, and these Lady Jane secured around Nikkis’’ waist. "We wouldn't want it slipping out would we?" she asked. Stepping away from Nikki towards me she surveyed her handiwork. "That should keep her occupied for a while."

Lady Jane moved over and stood by my side, she poured more oil into her palm and then idly reached out for my cock. As she stroked the head with light touches she said "Fascinating isn't it, how they struggle to cum, yet surely the time just before one cums is the best bit, the anticipation, the tension, yes I like that time the most". I just groaned and nodded in agreement. Walking back to Nikki she kissed her ear lobe again. "Are you close?" she asked as she slid her hand back around to stroke Nikkis’ nipples, pinching them gently. Nikki simply groaned.

Reaching for her riding crop Lady Jane started to draw it slowly over Nikkis’' clit, teasing and taunting her, using the crop like a violin bow, until she screamed in ecstasy her body shaking and juddering as the orgasm ripped through her. Lady Jane smiled at me. "She was lucky, I didn't let her linger too long, I will take longer with you."

After Nikkis’' orgasm had subsided she hung limp, her body weight on her arms pulling at her taught muscles. As Lady Jane reached up and released the wrist restraints she all but collapsed on the floor. Lady Jane let her rest for a minute before removing the ankle spreader bar and she then spoke. "Go and play with him, but don't let him cum. Take him in you mouth perhaps, or use your breasts, I know how he likes your breasts. But I repeat DO NOT LET HIM CUM".

Nikki slid her hand to the bow that secured the vibrator, Lady Jane reached out with the crop and stopped her. "I didn't say you could remove that did I? I will decide how long it stays, now play.”

Nikki dropped to her knees and approached me, her eyes watching mine as she reached out for my throbbing cock, she turned and looked at Lady Jane. “Ok I you can untie it, but treat it gently I imagine it will be quite tense now, you don’t want it going off in your hand”. Nikki removed the tie that was securing it to the wall and proceeded to unwrap the bindings on the sheath. The relief was such that I thought I was going to cum there and then. With tremendous willpower I held back and watched as Nikki brought her mouth close to it, I could feel her hot breath on me now. Moving closer her tongue extended to lap around the head, she hesitated for a moment and then slid her mouth over it, her teeth rubbing the skin as she took it in further. "Remember my instructions" said Lady Jane with a warning tone rubbing the riding crop over her ass. Nikki continued to work her mouth over my cock for a few minutes more, slowly easing it in and out of her mouth. The she took it cock out completely and moved to my balls instead; again her tongue explored the area before taking them into her mouth, rolling them from side to side. After a few minutes she took my cock into her mouth once more, alternating between drawing it to the back of her throat and lapping just at the head.

I watched her bobbing head wondering whether she would defy Lady Jane and what would happen to either of us if I came. I looked up at Lady Jane, she looked in no mood to be defied and Nikki must have sensed that too because she withdrew my cock from her mouth and straitened up. At first I thought she was going to stop playing altogether but then I gasped as I felt her press her breasts either side of my cock and slowly slide them up and down, the massage oil making them glide over my cock with a wonderful silky feeling.

As Nikki played with my cock Lady Jane stood over her, tracing lines down her spine with her riding crop. She slid it over her ass and occasionally reached under to rub it over her pussy and clit, Nikkis’ eyes closed each time she did this, her body giving involuntary little twitches.

Lady Jane moved to the other side of the room and returned with something in her hand. I looked up from the vision below to see Lady Jane holding what looked like a strap on. I gave a little gasp as I anticipated the site of her taking Nikki from behind as Nikki sucked my cock. Nikki must have sensed something was about to happen also, as she had stopped stroking my cock, she too looked up at Lady Jane, her eyes opening wide.

Lady Jane surveyed the scene “You are both wrong, yes it is a strap on but it is not for myself or Nikki to wear. Hold out his cock” she ordered. Lady Jane took the strap on and slid it over my cock, it was well lubricated and my cock slid in easily until it was completely encased. After securing the strap to hold it in place she tested the fit. There was no movement. No friction or rubbing on my cock just a sense of being gripped. Nikki looked at it then at Lady Jane, “I think you have work to do” she said. “Get dressed and go and do the cleaning, you may put on your thong but nothing else and do not remove the vibrator. I will do that later for you, if I so choose. If you disobey you are aware of the consequences.” Nikki did as she was told taking one last look at me before she left the room.

Releasing me from the wall restraints Lady Jane led me to a chair placed in front of a large wall mounted mirror and secured my wrists behind me and my ankles to the legs, after checking my bindings she stood in front of me with her back to me. She placed her thumbs in the waist of her thong. Very slowly she started to wriggle out of the thong sliding it down her ass and then her thighs, bending forward as she did so meant that her ass was only inches from my knees. After kicking the thong away she took a couple of steps back towards me and reached under to grab my sheath enclosed cock. I watched in the mirror as she lowered herself onto the sheath, her tongue licked her lips and then her teeth bit her lower lip as the sheath started to enter her.




Lady Jane



June, 1986

This is the story of Lady Jane and two accidents. I shall let you be the judges in this matter, but would ask only that you keep an open mind, for this story is far from commonplace, as you will see.

There are many places in which this tale might commence and even now, in my dotage and with the benefit of hindsight that stretches back a full three-score years, I am not certain that I know them all. And so, I shall start at a point that might seem arbitrary in the grand scheme of things, but which, for me, was a place and time that altered the course of my personal history. It was, of course, the day that my eyes first beheld sweet Lady Jane.

She arrived at my offices on a fine May morn, unannounced and equally unexpected, and were it not for the letter of introduction from none other than the redoubtable Miss Fotheringale herself, I should have turned my visitor back into the street. My thirtieth birthday was still fresh in my mind, and my business -- the agency that still bears my name -- was in its infancy. I was neither seeking to employ new staff and nor did I have a need for more hands on my particular deck -- the success which is now, of course, legendary was still many a year in the future.

Nevertheless, Miss Fotheringale was not the type of lady that one could ignore, and if she saw fit to send along a young woman then I was certainly not going to turn her away before I had at least perused her credentials. I summoned a little chivalry and ushered the young woman into my office, where I settled her in the client's chair while I went about the business of breaking the seal on the introductory missive and scanning the contents.

One of the few benefits that arrive with great age is the ability to be honest without attracting displeasure or criticism, and so I will admit to you now that I scanned not only Miss Fortheringale's elegant copperplate, but also the face and form of my visitor. And I will admit, also, that I found the letter of far more interest than the young woman herself. 

Although we had entered the third decade of the twentieth century, she was attired in fashions more suited to the early Victorian era, and, dare I say it, the drabness of her appearance was exacerbated by the severity with which her dark-brown hair was pulled into a tight bun, and by a pair of black-rimmed spectacles that appeared to threaten the integrity of her nasal bones. My junior partner, Thomas Greenhorn, was once given to remark of Lady Jane that "were she not to move, you would never know she was there" -- and whilst there is an element of hyperbole in his observation, it is not without a grain of truth.

I should interject at this point in my narrative in order to reassure you that the story of Lady Jane and the undetermined number of accidents will not descend into cliché. You will not read of me taking a shocked, deep breath and uttering "But my dear, without those spectacles you are beautiful!" Indeed not. This is not that kind of story in the slightest.

For one thing, it was clear to me from that very first morning that Lady Jane, underneath the stiff cottons, high collars, and monochromatic raiment, was a fine looking woman. She was slight of build, taller than most ladies, and moved with a grace that the best of her efforts could not conceal. The features of her face were fine and evenly proportioned, her cheekbones high, eyes large and the palest shade of blue, her lips full and yet capable of thinning at the slightest provocation. And yet...

And yet, there was nothing about her that you actually noticed. Nothing which caused the slightest of pauses for thought, nothing that made you think for a fraction of a second that here was an attractive woman. Lady Jane could blend into her surroundings so effectively that you would be hard pressed to say for sure that a human being was present, let alone a potentially beautiful female.

Miss Fotheringale was, however, entirely unconcerned with Lady Jane's appearance as was made plain by her letter. She requested 'most humbly' that I might consider offering the young woman a junior upon my staff. Given that the redoubtable Miss F was not given to humour of the more ribald type, I took this to mean that she wanted me to employ this young woman. As I have already mentioned, I was not at that time precisely flooded with work, but now that Miss F has mentioned this possibility (she would never have lowered herself to write anything as demeaning as an outright request), I took to consideration of the matter.

I had heard word at my Club that a growing number of the more youthful and thrusting professional types were taking to the new-fangled American concept of keeping a personal aide at their side, and the idea held appeal. Unfortunately, many of these young, thrusting types were considerably better financed than myself, and I had rather imagined that a personal aide would be beyond my pocket. 

I read the letter once more, this time paying considerably more attention to the detail. The young woman's real name was Jana Safina, and she hailed originally from Moscow. She was the daughter of an exiled family and had been technically orphaned at the age of 15, some eight years previously, when the French farmhouse they had been staying in was shelled during the last year of the Great War. Although Russian, she was extremely well-versed in the English language, took shorthand, and typed at an impressive one hundred words per minute. All of these facts were vouchsafed by Miss F, who further attested to Miss Safina's honest, hard-working character.

Perhaps most significantly, Miss Fotheringale advised that 'were you to consider the young Russian for your employ, then you would be well-advised to offer terms more suited to a junior than to an accomplished employee, since Miss Safina's expectations are very low in this regard'. This was by the way of being Miss F's very own brand of shorthand -- in this instance meaning that the girl would work for the proverbial peanuts. 

It took me but a minute to link my desire to embrace the modern trends in company affairs with the prospect of a low-cost solution, and I set down Miss F's missive and turned to face Jana Safina.

"Miss Fotheringale speaks very highly of you, my dear, and I confess that I have recently entertained the idea of... how shall I put it? ...adopting a more modern approach to the affairs of my company."

I paused to see how the young woman would react and was rewarded with little more than a politely raised eyebrow -- barely visible behind the thick, dark frame of her spectacles. I was however, offered a clear view of her blue-grey eyes as they widened a little, and I was struck by their clarity. 

I continued, "The agency has become increasingly busy of late and I have new clients arriving daily. If the rumours of talking films prove to be more than mere penny paper puff, then this trend will no doubt only accelerate. I am therefore faced with the prospect of a vastly increased workload and in particular the need for someone to assist me with my appointment book, and help with letters to clients and the production companies. In short someone to manage my time for me. Of course, much of this is supposition based on rumour and so on, so I wouldn't be in a position to offer more than a basic salary at first-"

"I would be very happy to become your assistant, Mr Barclay."

I am still not sure to this day whether I was more surprised by Lady Jane interrupting me, agreeing to take the position, or the beautiful, musical lilt to her voice. Whatever the reason, I was unaccountably flustered, and were I but to know it, this would certainly not be the first time that I was wrong-footed by her.

I found my voice after a moment or two, "Well... if you're quite certain?"

"I am, Mr Barclay. Miss Fotheringale was very... informative and I felt sure that I would want to work for you before I even stepped foot in the door."

"Very well, Miss Safina. And may I say that your English is every bit as proficient as Miss Fotheringale described. I feel sure that you be an asset to the agency." I told Lady Jane to report for her first day of work on the following Monday and then escorted her from the building. She had been in my office no more than a quarter of an hour, and that was all the time it had taken for my life to change forever.

In the intervening days before Lady Jane started in my employ, I often found my attention wandering to her. There was no one thing about her that captivated my attention so, but rather it was a constellation of impressions and shuttered memories from that first meeting. As I've already said, Jana Safina was not an obvious beauty -- but that is not the same thing as not being beautiful. I do not think it is pride that has me saying now -- as I've said so many times over the years -- that I was one of the few that could see through her disguise, could discern the real woman beneath that mask of dowdiness. I think, maybe, that by the time her first Monday at the agency rolled around, I was already more than a little in love with the mysterious Russian.

Her performance in her new role did nothing to negate the positive thoughts that I was harbouring for Jana, and she settled in to her tasks with seemingly consummate ease. Not only was her English proficient beyond the reach of many a native-speaker, but her organisational skills were nothing short of incredible. Before two months were out, she had organised my time so marvellously that I scarce realised that business had begun to boom in a way hitherto for unknown. 

To cap it all, Jana proved to be a most popular addition to the staff -- at least, among the womenfolk. Of my ten staff, the seven were ladies and they welcomed Jana with open arms; seemingly genuinely fond of her in no time at all. The three men, however, appeared to find her unremarkable and even aloof. It was they who began referring to her as Lady Jane, and only much later did I discover that this was a reference to Lady Jane Grey -- a place on words that embodied Jana's haughtiness and choice of attire. 

For my own part, I soon began to enjoy her company in my cluttered office, and her lilting voice with its trace of soft accent became the music which accompanied my days. She was reticent around me in those early months, and only ventured to speak when she was called upon to do so through necessity. Any attempt on my part to birth a conversation relating to matters outside of work was swiftly, but politely, brought to a premature end.

Working in such proximity to Jana was something of an emotional paradox for me. As the weeks and months passed, I became more than ever enamoured with this Russian who I knew to be beautiful. Although no more than her hands and face were ever in plain sight, I could tell from every movement that Jana made that she possessed a lithe grace which spoke of a slender, athletic form. But there was something more than the physical attraction developing.

I often paused to watch Jana with the other women and even on their darkest days, I could see the smiles gradually spread among them as Jana talked. And I felt more than a little of that magic myself whenever we conversed. Even the mundane became something new and special when Jana spoke of it. There was a certainty about her words that, when coupled with the intensity of her oh-so blue eyes, brought about a calmness in the listener. There existed, too, a depth of character that spoke of hidden knowledge and an empathy that was never far from the surface of her words. In short, Jana captivated my emotions.

I should point out at this juncture that I was a single man at that time, a reasonably successful professional who was becoming more successful by the month. I owned a modest townhouse in Bloomsbury, and small country retreat in Kent, and my prospects were, to use a phrase from those times, top hole. I was good looking, if not exactly handsome, and I was fit. In short, I was considered something of a catch. 

Thomas Greenhorn had spent much of the past couple of years encouraging me to 'settle down', as he termed it -- by which he meant that I should choose one of my more respectable lady-friends and marry the girl. Before Jana's arrival my objections to this stratagem has centred on the fact that I was far too busy building my agency and that in any case London was awash with young women who had but one aim in life -- to enjoy themselves. I meant to help them achieve their goal, and was considered, if I may so say, something of an expert in this matter. However, Jana changed all of that.

I realised very soon after her arrival that Thomas, however misguided his intentions, was right in one regard. I was ready to settle down -- but only with Jana. I took every opportunity to sow the seeds of my interest in her, made as plain as I dared that I looked upon her as more than a mere employee, mentioned time and again that I valued her as a person first and foremost...

Jana rebuffed these gentle advances with a politeness and, dare I say it, with a level of care and tenderness that fair broke my heart. 

By the summer of '27, with economic ruin just around the corner for so very many but with my business reaching unprecedented levels of success as Jolson shocked audiences across the globe, I had made absolutely no progress in my quest for Jana. It was fully nine months since she had arrived on my doorstep and I knew only the sketchiest details of her private life. I knew, for example, that she was single in every sense of the word, that she lived alone in a small apartment in Kensington, and that she passed her evenings reading assiduously. I knew nothing, however, of Jana Safina as a person outside of the office walls.

To say that I found her rejection, no matter how gentle, frustrating in the extreme is an understatement of gargantuan proportions. Such was my attraction to this fine lady that my body responded without my will whenever she walked into the room I occupied. This was far more than mere lust, though, and the feeling was quite intoxicating. I was also becoming hopelessly obsessed and, whilst Jana's efficiencies ensured that this did not infringe upon the success of the agency, my behaviour was becoming something of an irritant for those with whom I socialised. Matters came to a head one evening that July.

I had accompanied Thomas Greenhorn and Alexander Buchanan, an old friend, to a dance somewhere in the West End. It was a private affair but large enough to warrant a band, and the guest list seemed to comprise half of London's young, female socialites. Everywhere one looked nubile young women were dancing and cavorting in dresses that would raise an eyebrow or two even in these liberated days. Alcohol flowed freely and as the evening progressed, a Bacchanalian air began to permeate the hall.

I stood aloof, my mind elsewhere, as all around me the lascivious suggestions of the dances of that time were taken up by those performing them. As the clock struck eleven, within a dozen yards of where I stood, a young gentleman was performing cunnilingus on a clearly drunk and deliriously happy flapper, and two couples were actually copulating at the edge of the dance-floor. Elsewhere, women's dresses were slithering down arms as they danced to reveal pert young breasts, and only slowly pulled back to their more modest positions -- if, indeed, they were not left bunched around slender waists.

Thomas staggered up to me at some point shortly before midnight and berated me for not partaking of the manifold pleasures on offer. He broke off and pointed to a young woman, naked but for a pair of elegant earrings, who was sitting just beside me, "There, you see? James, you fool, you're wanted."

I turned and studied the young woman, my eyes taking in her narrow shoulders, full breasts, her flat belly, the tiny plume of fine, curled hair between her thighs, the long legs, and her eyes -- eyes that implored me to join her. Even looking at her made me feel as if I were cheating on Jana, as ludicrous as that sounds. 

I turned my back, "Not tonight, Thomas. Not any more, in fact." I grabbed my topcoat and headed for the door, determined now, that I knew what I needed to do. From behind I heard Thomas's voice as he tried to call me back to a place I no longer belonged.  

"James! James! Barclay you are a total oaf!"

"No longer, my friend," I muttered as I headed into the blessedly sober air of the street.

The following day I called Jana into my office and closed the door firmly once she was seated. I could see a flash of concern as she regarded my face and its determined, yet apprehensive, look. To spare her any anxiety -- and to ensure that my tongue did not glue itself to the roof of my mouth -- I wasted no time.

"Jana, I would like very much if you would consent to dine with me this evening. But not just as my guest."

"James?"

I took a deep breath, "I would be honoured if you would dine with me... as my fiancée."

For the first time since I had known her, Jana's features creased into a frown as she tried to work out my meaning. Light finally dawned in her already brilliant eyes and at first I thought the look that settled on her face was one of shocked delight. I was, of course, completely wrong.

She stood suddenly and stared directly into my hopeful eyes, "James... Mr Barclay. I am very honoured, truly, but I am sorry. I... I cannot accept your offer." It was her turn to take a deep breath, "I beg of you not to ask me for reasons, but hope that you will understand me fully when I say that I simply cannot and will not... become that which you wish of me. And that I am truly sorry."

"But why ever-"

"Mr Barclay, please! Do not ask this of me. I am sincerely grateful to you, but it must be this way. If you cannot accept this then I will, of course, leave the agency and-"

"No!" If I had though the heart-wrenching disappointment of rejection was bad, the thought of Jana leaving me altogether was agonising. I modulated my tone, and tried to sound reassuring and compliant, "No, that really won't be necessary. I... I'm disappointed of course, but I'm sure we can continue to work together. Of course, it would be of great help to me personally if you could at least tell me why-"

"I beg of you, please do not ask! Respect my wishes on this matter or I really will have to leave this place."

Her words chilled me. Not just for their import which was fearsome enough, but for the alien tone in which they were delivered. It was a tone that brooked no argument; that spoke nothing but a fundamental truth. It was also a tone that was as cold as the grave.

I apologised, of course, and assured Jana Safina that I would not mention this matter again. I gave her my solemn vow as a gentleman. At that moment in time, it was the truth as I saw it -- but it was a vow that I was to break before the year was out.

My accident happened two weeks before Christmas. I left the agency a tad after seven, wrapped up as warmly as I might against a truly frigid night, tired and not a little downcast even five months after being turned down by Lady Jane. My mind was, it must be said, occupied with a hundred thoughts and not one of them in any way related to the street I walked along. At the junction of Oxford Street and the Charing Cross Road I stepped from the kerb with barely a glance, and failed to see the Bentley rushing towards me. I heard the screech of rubber, saw a flash of light, felt a sudden dull pain in my left leg, and then merciful darkness descended. I was lucky, or so I was told. The driver of the car had swerved sufficiently that I was caught a glancing blow by the wheel arch rather than being flattened by the car's enormous grill. The blow had pin-wheeled me across the pavement and head-first into the granite wall of a confectioner's shop where I apparently lay for some half an hour before an ambulance arrived and carted my sorry self off to St. Bartholomew's.




Lady Jane



My injuries were extensive -- so much so that I will not list them all here. Safe to say, I had received fractures to a number of bones from leg to skull, lost copious amounts of blood, and was, in the words of my physician, extremely fortunate to survive such trauma. 

The first person I saw on returning to consciousness was, of course, Jana. She appeared above me, her limpid eyes glowing with angelic light, as my eyelids fluttered open, and at first I thought she was an angel and that I had awakened to a life beyond the mortal coil. Such beauty threatened the stability of my senses, and yet a felt nothing but euphoria at this vision. I should perhaps remark that I was sedated rather heavily and that morphine was being administered to me at frequent intervals.

It was some days before I was sufficiently compos mentis to be able to appreciate the extent of my injuries, during which time I fluttered between consciousness and a drug-hazed awareness of faces and voices. Foremost amongst them was Jana, but I recall Thomas peering anxiously at me one evening, and others from the agency. Time had no meaning, and indeed, there was nothing on my mind except pain and confusion.

When I finally awoke one morning with a head that was both relatively clear and aware, Jana was once more there to greet me. She told me of the accident and of my parlous health, and reassured me that I would make a full recovery -- but only if I rested both my mind and body. She spoke to me at length about the state of the business, understanding that I would not relax until I was sure that matters were under control, and even in my sorry state, I welcomed the sound of every word she uttered in and of itself.

In the days that followed she returned to my bedside with metronomic regularity, providing me with the latest news from the office, and a balm in her voice that was as efficacious as any of the medicaments that I was taking. 

Those long days and weeks gave me plenty of time for thought -- more than enough, in fact -- and I finally realised sometime around the beginning of February that Jana's attitude to me had changed. There was nothing overt, but rather, she appeared a little more relaxed when she spoke to me, a little less guarded. 

The evening following this realisation, I steered our conversation away from talk of the agencies ever-burgeoning client list and spoke of my hopes for the future. I told her, quite honestly, that I was grateful beyond words for her wonderfully efficient handling of the business in my absence, and that I intended to reward her diligence with a partnership. For once, I could see the surprise in her face, and more delightfully yet, I could see joy. 

Oh reader! I chastise myself now more than you could imagine -- for I am quite simply incapable of describing to you how that joyous look transformed Jana's already beautiful face. It was as if a heavenly fire lit her up from inside! It transcended her form and I swear on all that I hold sacred and precious that there appeared a distinct aura around her head.

She thanked me profusely and even went as far as to lay a hand on my arm -- a gesture of more intimacy than she had ever shown before -- and her touch thrilled my very essence.

I had wondered, or more accurately hoped, that this would bridge the gap between us -- not that this had any bearing on my decision to promote Jana thus -- but within minutes her calm reserve was once more back in place, and I sighed inwardly, disappointed at one level, but more than happy at another.

Easter came and went before I was finally allowed out of the hospital, and even then I was consigned to a wheelchair and under strict instructions to rest up at my house in Bloomsbury for a minimum of two more months. 

Although I had been freed from the plaster casts that had adorned much of my body, movement of any sort was incredibly painful, and a nurse was assigned to take care of my needs around the house. Despite this, it was Jana who took the greatest care of me over those first few weeks. She would arrive each morning at eight o'clock, prepare my breakfast and then feed it to me while she spoke of the affairs of the day ahead. She left me afterwards to the ministrations of my nurse, returning at the end of each day with more news from the agency, and with an understanding that her company was as important to me as any business reports.

It was that understanding of my need for simple human companionship that I believe started to thaw the ice in Jana's veins. I pressed her gently one evening to tell me a little about her childhood, and to my surprise she relented, describing a quite idyllic family life in Moscow before the revolution. Over the next few days we exchanged snippets of personal information -- although the exchange rate was, from my perspective, staggeringly high, but entirely worth the price -- and by the end of June I finally had a clearer picture of Jana's life.

It seemed that 'Lady Jane' was a rather fitting epithet since she had been born of Russian nobles and enjoyed the attentions of the Imperial Court as a child. Her early life had been understandably joyful and the memories of it brought a sad but genuine smile to her features. The revolution had changed all of that and she had fled with her parents to exile - first in Prussia and then on to France when the tide of the Great War turned in favour of the Allies. Tragedy struck in the last months of the War when the farmhouse they were staying at was hit by a stray shell, eradicating both the structure and the lives of her parents. 

Just fifteen years old, Jana was taken by locals to Paris where her innate intelligence saw her accepted at the Sorbonne. A gifted student, she was schooled in all manner of subjects and excelled at English, a skill which led her upon graduation to seek employment in London where at least there still stood a Royal family. From Miss Fotheringale's academy, Jana had joined my own agency and was now a partner. 

The story was complete but for a couple of incidents -- clearly important to judge by Jana's careful skirting of these topics -- which I gave up pursuing when it became clear that these were labelled 'private' and not for my consumption.

With the picture of her life complete and my own recovery nearing the same state, I gently guided the conversations to the immediate future. I spoke of my plans for the agency once I was back in the saddle, and of my desires for other ventures. By the tiniest increments, I guided these discussions on to my private life until, on evening in July, I deemed that the time was right. 

"Jana? May I ask you something?" I began, having waited until I was sure that she was as relaxed as ever she got in my presence.

"Of course, James."

"Do you recall my somewhat clumsy effort last summer when I asked you to consent to become my betrothed?"

Jana sighed, and for second I saw he protective mask slip into place. She uttered a gentle snort and her face cleared, "Of course I do, James. It was a moment that I treasure, and honour."

"Then would you... would you reconsider?"

It was as if a switch had been thrown somewhere inside Jana's head. Her eyes, I swear, dimmed and she looked down at her hands, "James, I cannot. In that regard nothing has changed."

I was crestfallen and not a little frustrated, "Jana, I beg of you, if your answer must remain in the negative, then would you at least tell me why? Tell me what is so wrong with me that you cannot face the thought of a future together?"

"Oh James, it is nothing to do with you!" Unaccustomed animation took over her features for a while, "I... I cannot tell you precisely why but you must believe me when I say that this is something that goes beyond you, or even me for that matter. James, I can see that there is love in your eyes when you look at me, and I know that you are a decent, honest man -- a good man. If things were not the way they are..." Jana paused, took a deep breath as if to control herself and then went on, "If things were not as they are then I would accept your offer in an instant, but you do not understand the commitment you would need to make to me. No man would, and I could never ask that of anyone -- least of all someone as decent as you, James."

"I don't understand..."

"I know you don't. Sometimes I'm not sure that I fully understand this thing myself, but my refusal, James, is a kindness, whatever you would believe. I cannot ask that of you."

"I will do anything, I swear-"

"James, please don't!" 

Jana stood suddenly, and in the instant before she spun away from me I saw tears forming in those beautiful eyes. This display of emotion was enough to still my tongue, to stop my protests no matter how genuine they were. Instead I took a deep breath and said softly, "I am sorry, Jana, I didn't mean to upset you."

I could hear her swallow before she answered, "I know that, James, and believe me I am sorry that I must refuse you." Her voice become as quiet as the grave, "I am more sorry than you could ever know." Without so much as a backward glance, she retrieved her coat and headed out into the night.

In the days that followed Jana's second refusal, the atmosphere between us gradually warmed once more, although the uncomfortable presence of the proposal lurked in the shadows like an unwanted ghost. Despite everything Jana's presence made my heart swell with joy, and engendered an altogether different form of engorgement elsewhere upon my anatomy. By the time my convalescence neared its end, I was having to take preventative measures before Jana arrived at the house so that I could at least give a passing resemblance of attention to the matters of which we spoke.

My physician recommended that I take a few weeks holiday before returning to full-time duties at the agency and I readily agreed -- such was my discomfiture in Jana's presence at that time. The first week of September saw me arrive in Nice where I spent my days walking to build muscle and my evenings eating and drinking to build a wall of resistance between my heart and my true love.

In the first few days I missed Jana so very much that it was like having a limb torn from me. My thoughts were with her every waking second and my dreams were a collage of images and sensations that I could only... well, dream about. But as my fitness returned with agonising slowness, so I began to build that emotional wall. 

By the end of the third week I was confident that I could return to London afresh, and that Jana's presence would engender no more than a sensation of innocent delight -- a feeling that stayed with me until the eve of my return.

That night I dreamt once more of Lady Jane. In that dream I was looking into her eyes from no more than a couple of inches and as a sensation of intense heat overtook my heart and my loins, so I descended into the soul of my beloved. There I was enveloped by a soft blanket that moulded itself to every contour of my body, comforting me with its warmth. Gradually the heat inside me rose and as Jana's eyes floated before me I realised that I stood on the edge of a precipice. I had a choice to make -- to walk away to safety in my new shroud, or to step forward into love and death. The heat burned higher and I searched those eyes for some clue, but the more I searched, the less I knew of my dilemma and the more insistent the heat became.

Jana spoke to me then, her voice as clear in the dream as if she were standing right there in front of me. "James, I want you but I cannot pay that price."

The dream me laughed, relieved at last. "Jana, I will pay with everything I have, and gladly so." I stepped forward and her arms held me up, a million miles from the ground, a million miles from the life I had known. 

"James, you are a fool," Jana told me, "But I love you."

Our bodies melded into one, our hearts and minds following. Heat sought out heat and as they combined my heart soared, my pulse raced, and from deep within me came an outpouring of pure love.

I awoke, sweating and fevered, my heart racing and my mind filled with echoes of the heat and climax that I had felt so deeply in the dream. Even through the shock of awakening so abruptly, and the disorientation that threatened to overwhelm me, I knew now that back home in London Jana waited for me. I knew that, despite her words, she yearned for me and that, yes, she loved me.

During the long journey home I cast my mind around for the reason for Jana's earlier refusals and finally came up with the answer. It was clear to me now that she had declined by offers because she knew that she couldn't bear me children. Or that she carried, like the good Queen Victoria, the haemophilia curse. Or that some other hereditary disease would be likely to strike her down before her time. Or a dozen other plain and obvious reasons. 

It mattered not which one was true, merely that I now knew that it was something very simple, and that it was a price that I would happily pay a thousand times over for a future, however long or short, with Jana Safina. And I knew that this was what she really wanted beneath her façade of resistance.

It was after midnight when I finally arrived at Bloomsbury and despite the excitement that I felt at the prospect of seeing Jana the following day, I took myself off to my bed and slept deeply and easily. 

I awoke refreshed, excited and determined. By the time the clocks were striking the eighth hour of this momentous day I had bathed, showered, dressed and broken fast. As prepared as I was for what was to follow, my heart still lurched when I heard the front door open and Jana's beautiful voice calling my name.

As she entered the parlour, her face broke into a smile that would have dazzled a blind man. "James! You look so wonderfully fit and well! And it's lovely to know that you are back safe and sound."

"And you, my dear Jana, are a sight for sore eyes. It is truly marvellous to come home toy you."

Jana slipped out of her coat and turned to face me, her eyes roaming over me, "You look so very fit, James. It is such a relief after those long months of sickness."

I laughed, "It is, isn't it? I feel fitter in body than I have in many a year, and fitter in mind as well. And may I say, you look even more radiant than I remembered."

"Oh, James, enough of your nonsense. Now, would you like me to start with news of the latest bookings, or of the new clients?"

"Neither," I said, confident and assured, "I want you to sit down while I tell you some things."

Jana shrugged and settled onto the end of the sofa.

"Jana, my time away has been far from wasted, and it has done more than help my body recuperate. It has given me time to think, and I imagine that the distance has allowed me to finally make out the woods from the trees, so to speak. Jana," I paused and smiled, "I know what you really think about me now."

"James, please-"

"Let me finish, Jana. You see, I understand now why it is that you have refused my offers of marriage and I have come back determined to set things to their rightful course. Jana, my dear, it matters not one jot or iota to me that you may not be able to bear me children or that you are in some way unwell-"

"No! James you are wrong!"

"Please, Jana, no more nonsense. I know -- I absolutely know -- that you care for me and that if things were perfect for you, then you would accept my proposal at the drop of the proverbial hat. Tell me that is so."

"But-"

"Jana, is that so?"

She sighed, "Yes, but-"

"Then there are no buts. You love me do you not?"

"James!" 

"Do you love me, Jana?"

"This is wrong, James-"

"I will ask all morning if I have to. Jana, do you love me?"

Lady Jane was almost writhing in her seat but now she sat forward and held me with her gaze, "James, it does not matter whether I do or not, I still will never be able to ask for the sort of commitment from you that is required. You really do not understand-"

"I understand everything! Now, one last time, Jana -- do you love me?"

"James-" Jana's resistance broke in the face of my determination, "Very well, yes! James, yes, I love you. And that is all the more reason-"

My cry was exultant, "I knew it!"

"But James-"

"But me no buts. There is nothing that cannot be achieved with love!" I was evangelical and not a little mad with delight, "It is all we need, Jana."

Tears welled in her eyes and she stood abruptly, "James, I'm sorry. Truly. But this cannot happen, I won't allow it."

"You have no choice, Jana. It is destined!"

"I'm going, James, and I cannot return."

Jana spun on her heel and took a step towards the door. But I was fit again, and I now had certainty as my guide. No matter what her objections, I was not going to let this opportunity pass for there was too much at stake. Now that she had admitted her love for me I was all-powerful and in complete control. I snaked out a hand and snared the shoulder of her blouse, "You cannot leave!"

Jana twisted in my grip, "I must!"

I pulled hard and heard buttons popping as I threw her back towards the sofa where she stumbled onto hands and knees. That simple sound, cotton snapping under stress, travelled straight from my ears to the very centre of me. My body responded, the erection pushing painfully against my trousers as the blood coursed through my veins. All I could think was that Jana was now mine, bound to me by declaration of love, and I had to prevent her leaving at any cost.

As she began to protest once more I crossed to her slumped form and yanked her onto her back, pushing her into the cushions of the sofa. My hands dropped to the front of her starched blouse, gripped, and then pulled apart with desperate ferocity. The material tore as if it were tissue paper to reveal a plain cotton vest beneath. Blinded by love and by lust, I pulled her protesting form up into a sitting position and with a guttural roar rent her undergarment, pulling the ragged halves outwards and down, baring the pale flesh beneath.

Such was the blindness that I scarce registered the mark at first, captivated and astonished be the perfection of Jana's naked breasts, their firm smoothness, her nipples dark and erect, the perfection of their shape and form. 

As the tattered clothing feel from her shoulders Jana had let out a wail and now she thrust her shoulders back, inviting my gaze, and her voice quivered with something that could have been rage but I soon learned to be anguish, "There! There is the reason! There is the mark of evil!"

Her words registered somewhere deep in my subconscious and my eyes focussed on the whole of her form. As they took in the detail, it was hard to believe that I had dismissed this 'mark', From a point somewhere behind her right shoulder, a line of scar tissue some half an inch wide and unnaturally pink ran down across her chest, between her breasts, and down to her left hip where it disappeared beneath the waistband of her skirts. Along its length, the skin was gently puckered, gleaming in the morning sun against the alabaster paleness of the surrounding flesh.

I could have reacted in many ways, I suppose, but even to me in the midst of my frenzy, my reaction was a shock. I looked upon that damage and I found it beautiful. It was part of Jana, as essentially hers as her face and breasts and arms, and I loved her all the more for it. And lusted also. 

As she stared defiantly at me, he shoulders quivering with an emotion that I could not discern, I stepped closer and pushed her back against the cushions. Reaching down I hooked my fingers in the waistband of her skirts, clutched at these and the petticoat and bloomers beneath, and pulled hard.

Shock crossed Jana's features before she reached down and tried to stop me, a panicked cry escaping her lips. But I was not to be denied now, and I had her laid bare before me in a few seconds. The second the clothes left her body, Jana went limp, her head turned away as I surveyed her nakedness. The scar meandered from her left hip back inwards towards the very centre of her, disappearing at the point where her inner thigh met her torso. It took my eyes to that soft, sweet cleft and my heart rose into my throat as I truly realised that my love was now open to me.




Lady Jane



My ears were singing as I fumbled open the fly buttons of my trousers and my breath felt as loud as thunder in my head as I gently pulled apart Jana's legs. She stirred then and turned a look of total anguish on me.

"James?" Her voice was but a whisper, "You will be damned for all eternity if you do not stop now."

"I cannot, Jana," A thought rose unbidden inside me and I uttered it before I realised what I was about to say, "This love I have for you is pure. It will counteract any damnation."

I stared into Jana's eyes and saw a flicker of doubt, of confusion. It seemed to me that she wanted to believe my words but dared not. Those ghosts of hesitation disappeared as I lifted a hand and let my finger trace the scar from her shoulder to the centre of her chest. She jerked away, then, tried to scramble from beneath me.

Jana was as slight of form as I had surmised and while she was well toned, she was no match for me. Even as she begged me to reconsider, even as she uttered dire warnings about my eternal damnation, I knew with an absolute certainty that she was now mine. 

She had clamped her legs together as she struggled, but it took a mere moment for me to force my knee between her thighs. I grasped her wrists in one hand, pushing them above her head, and freed my engorged manhood with the other. I paused then, taking in every detail of her perfect form with its perfect scar. I said to her, very quietly but with absolute certainty, "I love you, Jana," and then lowered myself onto her.

Jana gave one final effort, twisting herself away from my insistence, but the movement brought the warm moistness of her centre into contact with the head of my member. That slight touch brought her to stillness and the resistance turned in an instant to need. Her legs scissored around my waist and she let out a final sob.

"Forgive me, James!"

"I only need you, Jana, not your forgiveness for something I want so very much."

With that, I eased myself into the very centre of her and now the only resistance was from deep inside her as her status changed from intactus to mine. She let out a soft cry but I felt her legs tighten, urging me on. I could hold back no more and plunged the entire length of me into her, and it was as if I had burst a dam.

I released her hands and Jana howled in exultation, giving herself completely to the act. For every thrust into her moist heart, she bucked beneath me, willing me on. As my hands squeezed those firm breasts her own hands covered mine. As my lips and my tongue traced the delicate pink flesh of her scar she shuddered as a multitude of tiny orgasms coursed through her. My need was extreme and I felt larger, more powerful than ever before. As the pace quickened, so Jana grew wilder, giving in to the primitive urges that she had suppressed for so long -- and every tiny fraction of this newfound freedom was transmogrified into pure heat and desire. I could feel the muscles deep within her sex contracting around my member with every thrust, at first welcoming me and then as the excitement ran on unrestrained, demanding me. Jana's hands roamed over every inch of me that she could reach, under my shirt and across the muscles of my back, down to my bottom and grasping the muscles there as they contracted with every thrust, across my chest and tweaking my nipples, into my hair and tangling there, forcing my mouth do hard upon her own that our cheeks and lips began to bleed from the pressure as out teeth ground against them.

The intensity of our love-making was beyond anything in my experience. It consumed me totally as every nerve in my body lit up like a torch and my mind spiralled ever higher upon wave after wave of ecstasy. 

There was a purity of emotion there at the core and yet a wildness that spoke of something older, more primal. I have no idea to this day how that first coupling lasted but it seemed at the time that it would last forever. We moved hard and fast, and yet with perfect synchronicity. Every movement brought pleasure, and every thrust a hot, moist joy that built towards a climax that I knew would surpass any sensation in my experience. My control astounded and gratified me in equal measure, and I was free in mind to savour every second of that wild, feral coupling.

As far as I was concerned it could last forever, until my heart exploded with the joy of it all. We touched and explored, kissed and sucked and bit, all the time moving together. The rest of my clothing had long since been torn from my body and sweat lubricated our naked flesh. Jana's hair was freed from its constraining bun and cascaded around her, an auburn halo flecked with a deep, chestnut red. Her scar shone and its beauty left me awestruck. 

After an eternity I gazed deeply into her eyes and she returned my stare until her breath caught in her throat and those oh-so blue eyes widened. Her breathing quickened and I realised that her climax was soon to be upon her. Underneath me, her lithe body moved faster still and I responded in turn, pounding my manhood hard and fast into the very core of her sex. 

Jana began to pant, short sharp breaths that arose from her accompanied by grunts and moans that rose in volume until I felt her muscles quivering and she let forth a howl of unadulterated joy. I did not so much orgasm as explode within her, our bodies locked rigidly now in the throes of our climaxes. 

There are no words to describe the ineffable rapture of that mutual release -- at least no words in this existence. Or perhaps there is, and the word is love.

As our fluids mingled inside her, we collapsed, gasping, and clung to each other.

I felt drained and yet elated, and despite the exhaustion I now felt, I smothered her sweat-streaked face with kisses, murmuring words of love and endearment. Jana held me close and returned my attentions until, sated, we dozed, our bodies still locked together.

I awoke to find Jana's eyes settled on mine from a few inches to my side. We were still joined and the realisation of what had happened stirred my blood, my manhood stiffening once more. At the feel of this, Jana sighed and then smiled. 

"Oh James, I am sorry and yet I am not. What is done may never be undone, and I am yours now, as you are mine. This is not a day that I thought I would ever see, and if the way I feel now is wrong, then so be it. It is beyond my wildest fantasy, and I will enjoy it for what it is -- an act of true love."

With that enigmatic pronouncement Jana begun to move gently, and I joined her, my movements tender and slow. I told her over and over how much I loved her, how beautiful she was, how I would always find her so. She laughed at that, a sweet, innocent laugh that had me moving faster and feeling a strange pride that filled me with light.

Right from that very first day our love-making was perfection, and an act that embodied all we felt for each other. We explored every contour of each other, tasted and stroked and kissed. I learned that I could tease Jana exquisitely, withdrawing almost all of my length from her warm folds, holding myself there until she began to writhe and beg, before sliding back into her, deep and firm. I found, also, that I could control myself for as long as Jana wanted, only losing control when she succumbed to her own climax at which point I emptied myself into her, crying her name above her cries of pleasure.

Afterwards, we lay together, entwined and sated -- or least satisfied for the moment -- and Jana laid her head on my shoulder as I stroked her hair. After a while she began to speak, her voice soft and measured.

"I hope you're right about your love for me, James, about how true love can be so powerful. And I know your love is true now, as I know also that you do not find the sight of my scar repulsive."

"It is yours and it is beautiful, I-"

She shushed me and continued, "I was fourteen when this happened to me. My father was a commander in the White Army and he could see which way the wind was blowing, saw that the Reds were gathering support and he felt that the end was in sight for the monarchy and for the Imperial way. He sent some guards to our home and had them escort us to a village where he thought we would be safe should the Red Army rise up. He was wrong."

Jana paused for a few seconds and then took a deep breath before continuing, "A few days later I was out in the woods collecting wood for the fire which was something of an adventure for the daughter of a high ranking army officer. Four horses appeared from nowhere, ridden by young soldiers, their insignia telling me that they fought with the Reds. They surrounded me, taunting the poor little rich girl, and then the taunts grew more personal. They began to banter among themselves, goading each other to summon the courage to... have sport with me.

"I began to panic but that only seemed to fire them even more. They dismounted and approached me, circled me and kept plucking at my shawl and my blouse. I screamed for help but I was a long way from the village, and my shouts only served to enrage them. One of them grabbed me by the arm and began to rip the clothes from my body." She paused again before continuing in a voice devoid of emotion, "He bared my breasts and made fun of their smallness, but this did not deter him. And nor did my tears.

"He pushed me to the ground and started to tear at my skirt-"

"Oh Jana!" I said, "I'm so sorry about earlier, if I'd only know-"

"James, it was perfectly fine. Let me finish." A kiss quietened me and Jana went on, "The other soldiers gathered closer as I was laid bare before them and I prepared myself for the worst. Just then one of them pushed forward and demanded that he took the first turn because of his rank. The one who had stripped me demanded that he had the right because it was he who had found me and bared me. A fight developed and swords were drawn. In the confusion I leapt to my feet and made to run into the trees but I was too slow.

"One of the soldiers raised his sword to stop my flight but his movement was too slow and the blade pierced my flesh at my hip. I fell forward and felt a flare of pain as the sword cut into my flesh, splitting me apart from hip to shoulder. Even as I fell, the others went silent. In my shock as I watched the blood gush from the wound, the one who had stripped me began to yell in panic. He said that I should be finished off. There was another argument and then the sound of branches breaking close by in the forest. The soldiers ran for their horses and I felt another white hot flash of pain as a sword was slashed across my fallen body. 

"No doubt the stroke was meant to be the killing blow, but the aim was hurried and it slit the flesh of my thigh, joining up with the wound at my hip. The pain overwhelmed me and I lost consciousness. When I awoke I was in a bed of furs in a grand room. I had been found by a villager and almost left for dead -- would have been had he not known of my father's status. I was taken back to Moscow and to the Royal palace where the Tsar's own physician worked to save my life. 

"You may have heard the name Rasputin, and it was he, his acolytes and his dark arts that somehow brought me back from the door of death. Like many of his works it was nothing much shy of a miracle, but also like many of his works there was a price to pay."

Jana lifted her head and rolled onto her back so she could look into my eyes, "The man -- if that is what he was -- spoke to me at length once I was fit enough to concentrate on his words. He told me that my life had been spared but that the scar that remained had been made worse quite deliberately. It was to ensure that no man would ever want me."

The pace of Jana's narrative quickened, ensuring that I could not interrupt, "My life, the monk told me, was to be paid for by my lifelong celibacy or, if anyone could bear the sight of me, then by the first man to take my maidenhood. That man, James, would be cloven unto me for my whole life and that when his own life ended, then his soul would be forfeit. But James, I have laboured among the books of lore every night of my life since then and, while I believe that Rasputin truly had made some form of Faustian pact on my behalf, there is enough evidence available in the ancient texts to assure me that if your love for me is true, then you will be spared that fate. When I looked into your eyes as you deflowered me, when I saw that love burning so brightly, I dared hope for the first time that there may be happiness in my life yet."

As Jana fell silent my mind whirled. This tale of the mad monk was surely so much stuff and nonsense... and yet there was a strange sensation buzzing around in my head. It was as if a fragment of knowledge, of absolute certainty, was permeating my thoughts. As crazy as Jana's tale sounded, I knew that it was true. The proof of this came to me in a flash.

"Jana, I believe you. And I believe that our love will transcend this deal made on your behalf. I look upon your body, your perfect breasts, the smooth curves of your legs, your eyes, your hair, the soft down that conceals your womanhood, and I love them all. And then I look upon your scar and I find it perfect in a way that I cannot describe. I love it, in fact, and is that not proof enough that my love for you is deep enough and powerful enough?"

A smile spread across her face, "I think that maybe you are right."

"And anyway," I continued, "I would gladly sell my soul for a lifetime of the love and passion that I felt today -- that I feel right now, in fact. We cannot lose, my beloved."

From that very first day, our lives became an idyll. Jana and I were inseparable and our love grew with each passing second. Even when we discovered a year or so later that Jana's injuries had left her infertile, that love just reached a new height. We adopted the twins, George and Victoria, when they were but a few hours old, and they brought us nothing but unremitting joy. The agency went from strength to strength and life, in short, was a delight.

Jana and I had married very quickly, and on the night we celebrated our tenth anniversary, shortly before Hitler invaded Poland, we spent an hour calculating the astonish fact that we had made love at least ten thousand times. And what love-making it was! 

Jana's effect on me never diminished and she only had to walk into the same room as me and I would rise to the occasion, so to speak. At times the attraction was impossible to delay and I would pounce on her as soon as circumstances permitted even the tiniest opportunity. Jana soon took to wearing clothes -- or, rather, to not wearing some of them -- in order to facilitate the easiest of accesses. Such was the heat of our passions that we would, on occasion, be caught in flagrante, but far from diminishing our ardour, this only served to stoke the fires. That we were never once charged with a public indecency offence probably lies in the fact that Jana would never reveal her body in a public place (unless we were quite certain that we would remain undisturbed) -- but in private she soon became comfortable with her own nudity.

The Second World War saw us organising entertainment for our troops across the globe, and although we remained in London for the duration, our lives were seldom endangered. Our only close casualty was Thomas, who perished whilst on fire-watch duty the night that St. Paul's was hit by the bomb which pierced its Dome but landed, unexploded in the nave. To my relief, the conflict ended while George was still only fifteen, and too young to be conscripted.

Life returned slowly to normal, and the agency once more flourished. So much so, in fact, that Jana and I spent more and more time away from the office and took to travelling abroad. One of my finest recollections is of a balmy Mediterranean evening in the hills above St. Raphael. Although Jana's fiftieth birthday was just days away, she still had the face and figure of a thirty year-old. 

That night, alone in a meadow filled with the scent of Bougainvillea, a full moon bright enough to cast shadows, we lay among the grass. We removed each other's clothes with all of the awe and wonder that we felt back in our first days together, and we kissed and caressed for an eternity. I traced the length of her beautiful scar with my lips and my tongue, pausing awhile at her breasts to lick and to bit softly until I threatened to bring forth Jana's climax. Only then did I work my way lower, to her hip and then to her heat, drinking deeply at the fountain of her womanhood.

This time I teased, licking and biting, being forceful and gentle by turns, until Jana's back arched and she climaxed with a cry and a sigh that filled me with pure unalloyed joy. We made love then, slowly at first, tenderly, with Jana spread under me in the grass. As our passions grew she rolled me onto my back and straddled my hips, lowering herself onto to my manhood, riding me with lithe grace and a passionate intensity. When we finally climaxed, together and loudly, I stared up at my beloved as her juices mingled with mine, her head thrown back and the moonlight shining on the alabaster of her belly and breasts, he scar a slightly darker shade of grey in the ghostly night. And I loved her with every ounce of my being.

The accident happened just a week after our return from the South of France. We were walking past one of the thousands of reconstruction sites that were blossoming all over the capital when, without so much as a whisper of warning, a steel girder feel from above. It struck Jana a glancing blow to the back of her skull and to her spine, and she turned to me with a questioning look in the dazzling eyes before folding at the knees and falling to the pavement.

My beloved Jana spent the next three days fighting for her beautiful life. On the third evening, her eyelids fluttered open to find me sitting where I had sat for every second since she had arrived at the hospital. There was clarity in her vision that belied the physicians' belief that her mind had already passed from this world, and then she confounded every prognosis by whispering my name. 

"James."

"Oh, Jana, you have no idea how glad-"

She shushed me and then smiled with a sadness which still moves me to tears today, "There will be no mad monk to save me this time, my darling James, but I think that there is something of his magic left inside me yet. I know that I should have departed already but I begged myself to return to you one last time."

I began to protest, but something in her eyes still my tongue.

"James, you are my love and you will remain so for all eternity. Know, my darling, that you have made me happy beyond words, and that one day you will do so again. Know this also, James. You were right about the power of our love."

As I stared into the depths of her azure eyes I saw a glimmer of light. It became brighter and then brighter yet until I was dazzled -- but totally unable to look away or to even close my eyes. 

In the midst of this beauteous light, Jana's voice came to me one last time, "James, my darling, darling James. Live the rest of my life for me, live it with joy in your heart for we will be together at the end of it. Let it pass in wonder and let it end when, and only when, it is time. I will live on in your heart, my darling, and I will love you always."

All I could do was whisper "I love you, Jana", over and over again. The light pulsed brighter one last time and then blinked out.

By the time my eyes had adjusted to the electric glow of the room, my Jana was dead. She lay before me, her face a mask of peace, and reader, I felt an abyss of emptiness and despair open up, and its darkness swallowed me.

It was some weeks before my mind returned, and wherever it had been, it had thought endlessly of Jana and had found the truth in her words. The light -- which I think of somewhat ridiculously as her love-light -- had left something of her essence within me, and I turn to that even to this day, for comfort and for warmth. And for that ethereal contact with my beloved.




Lady Jane



I have done as Jana wished and have lived a full life, alone but for our children who visit from time to time. I have travelled and seen such sights, that I may relate them all to Jana when I finally see her once more. As to when that might be, I do not know. I follow her edict and allow my time here to pass naturally, albeit with such painful slowness, and I have reached the age of ninety with no signs of infirmity. Indeed, there are many folk who would put my age at no greater than fifty or sixty.

I believe that the light, Jana's love-light, had much to do with the healing that she received back in the Imperial Court, and maybe some of that strange magic has passed into me. It is frustrating at times, but I content myself with the knowledge that each day that passes brings me closer to my re-union with my beloved Jana.

I shall close now and take a walk to the cemetery where a simple stone bears the equally simple legend: 'Jana Safina-Barclay, my Lady Jane forever'.

*

June, 2008

I saw her in my dream last night, and those eyes as bright as sapphires. She spoke to me and told me that the price had now been paid, and that we had paid with life and love. I am relieved beyond all imagining. I shall see my love once more. And the very thought brings neat to my heart and loins. I think that our reunion may shake the foundations of the heavens, and that expression of our eternal love will be seen across the universe.