Pride & Prejudice & Passion: Jane Austen for the Adult Reader

Chapter One It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. It is no less a truth, though not always acknowledged, that single women also have wants, and though a husband may be among them, for some women, particularly those of high spirits, a husband may not suffice. Rarely are such matters spoken of in polite society, or indeed at all. This is a deficiency, dear reader, which I intend in the following pages to rectify. Elizabeth Bennet sat one evening regarding herself in the mirror on her bedroom table. Were she paying close attention, she would have seen a girl of twenty-two, with dark hair slightly curled about her neck in the fashionable manner, framing a face that most would call pretty. In truth, as a girl singularly given to honesty in all matters, she was severe upon her own appearance. She allowed that her dark eyes had allure, especially when flashing fire, as they often did when her mind was engaged. But she thought her nose ought not perhaps to turn up the way it did. And her mouth, though it seemed that men often had a desire to kiss it, was surely a trifle too wide. As for the rest of her, visible as soft swellings beneath her white cotton nightgown was a pair of firm and shapely breasts, much admired by gentlemen when partly on display in the low-cut dresses of the period, and even more ardently admired when revealed in their naked splendour. As to how many gentlemen had had such a privilege, we shall for the moment observe a discreet silence. And since her bodily charms below her bosom were not reflected in the mirror, we have no reason to speak of them further at present. However, nothing of her appearance registered with Elizabeth, who was preoccupied with another matter. She was, not for the first time that day, running over in her head an earlier conversation with her sister Jane. The conversation had gone somewhat in this manner. “We need to talk,” said Elizabeth. “Oh, Lizzie, I know what you’re going to say,” exclaimed Jane. Elizabeth would allow no one but her family to call her Lizzie. “It’s about Charles, is it not?” “Indeed it is, dearest Jane. Is it time, do you think?” “Oh, I suppose so. After four months of courtship, I think I am ready to take your advice and accept your help.” “I am glad to hear it,” answered Elizabeth. “So, tell me, how do your physical relations with him proceed? I know we have spoken of this before, but if I am to help I require more details.” Jane blushed. Her character was very different from that of her sister. Elizabeth was frank in all matters, especially those pertaining to acts of love. Jane on the other hand was modest to an extreme. She had only consented to anticipate her marriage with Charles after her sister’s urging, and then only with reluctance, not on moral grounds, but simply through shyness. Elizabeth had patiently explained to her the risks of marrying a man of whom she had no carnal knowledge, and the unhappiness that may be consequent upon s****l incompatibility. She had eventually worn down Jane’s excessive s****l bashfulness, and the relationship had been consummated, apparently to the satisfaction of both partners. But Elizabeth could never resist an opportunity to offer her advice and experience, especially in matters of love. Because of her deep affection for Jane, she was more than usually eager to find out the details of her sister’s encounters with Bingham, and to offer her practical help if there were any need for improvements, which in Elizabeth’s view of the world there usually was. In a low voice, her face delicately flushed with embarrassment, Jane began to supply the details which her sister had solicited. “So far, if Charles has a fault, I would say it is one of diffidence. I do not think he lacks confidence in the bedroom, but his perfect manners, and I believe his considerable devotion to me, influence him towards a kind of deference. He is reluctant to take the initiative, and as you know, dear Lizzie, I am not one to be forward where carnal relations are concerned. I have managed to bring myself to the point where I will entertain them without demur, but it is more than I can do to make a beginning. Do you think, Lizzie, that you could encourage him to be more forceful? I have a feeling that he might have it in him to be masterful, if only he were persuaded that ladies welcome such a thing in a man.” Elizabeth had taken her time to reply. What her sister said was much as she had feared; that Bingham, though adequate in performance, and lacking nothing in affection, did not proceed more forcefully because he thought it indecorous in a suitor. The problem for Elizabeth was that her whole instinct in matters of sexuality was of an opposite nature to her sister. Whereas Jane was always the blushing ingénue, Elizabeth seized the initiative with both hands, never loathe to progress an encounter and take it to a conclusion, and during love-making inclining always to take the upper hand. Several of her partners had been taken aback by her intent to command the situation, and on occasion this had gone to such an extreme that she had subjected them to the full force of her dominance. Some details of what in practice she had done with these gentlemen may await a later moment, after we have returned to the conversation with Jane. “Jane,” said Elizabeth, choosing her words carefully, “I have no doubt that your s****l nature is such as polite society considers proper in a woman: demure, modest, responsive only to another’s initiative, warm and affectionate but never demanding. My nature is different. I require my lovers to bend to my will and satisfy my needs before considering their own. I do not in general encourage men to be masterful in bed. So in order to effect a change in Bingham’s conduct I shall have to somewhat dissemble my instincts and adopt a different demeanour. However, I think this may be an interesting exercise for me, in which I may learn something about men and their conduct in the bedroom, and perhaps not a little about myself. So, Jane, I can truthfully say that I shall enter into this endeavour with full enthusiasm. Now, tell me, and do not spare your blushes, in what way exactly would you have him behave more to your liking?” Jane hesitated; this was so difficult for her, but she knew that her future happiness might depend upon her being frank and open with her sister. “Well, he likes to kiss me, and needs little encouragement. But when he puts his hand upon me, for example seeking to advance up under my skirts, or to insert a hand down the front of my dress, I cannot forbear to blush and seem to shrink from his touch. I want these gestures more than I can say, but I cannot bring myself to behave as if I welcome them. It is not in my nature to demonstrate frank enjoyment. I think at this point he should ignore what he evidently perceives as signs of reluctance and forge ahead, insisting on his rights over my person, which of course I fully concede to him, even if I appear unresponsive.” “You wish, in short, that he should ravish you? Simply ignore your apparent pudeur, sweep aside all seeming resistance and force himself upon you?” “Oh, Lizzie,” cried Jane, “If only he would. You cannot know how many nights I have lain awake fantasising about ravishment. My waking moments and my dreams are full of brigands and pirates who kidnap me and take me to their lairs to possess me at their leisure. I imagine men tearing my clothes from me and competing to be the first to force me, holding me down and taking me, in every orifice, time and time again. But I fear that if dear Charles should know of this, he would revile me as a depraved and licentious woman unworthy of his affections.” Elizabeth was somewhat taken aback by this effusion. She thought she knew her sister, but had never suspected what a volcano of seething passion bubbled beneath her quiet exterior. “Do you actually want him to rip off your clothes, Jane?” “I do not know exactly what I want. All I know is that I wish to be taken, used, mastered. I adore this man and would submit to him in any manner he should require. I will crawl across the floor to him, kiss his feet, humble and humiliate myself in any way he should demand. He may beat me, defile me, prostitute me, make me his slave, his toy, his creature. In exchange I would kiss the very ground he walks upon.” “My goodness, Jane! I had no idea of the fierce desire that lurks beneath such a placid demeanour. I think that Bingham too has little conception of what awaits him, if only he can be brought to take possession. I shall do my very best to make him aware of what pleasures are there if only he will assert himself. Do you truly believe that he has it in him to be masterful?” “That is what I wish you to find out for me, Lizzie. I cannot do it for myself. I should be so grateful.” Elizabeth was thoughtful. “I shall have to consider how best I may approach this task. In the meantime, Jane, you must prepare Mr Bingley for his encounter with me. I would not for the world have him think that I am attempting to seduce him away from my sister. No matter if you shrink from such frankness, you must explain to him the exact nature of the relationship I propose to engage in with him, and that it has your full blessing.” “Very well,” said Jane, though looking somewhat dubious. “I know that I want all this to be open and above board.” “Furthermore,” Elizabeth continued, “you must explain to him your philosophy of marriage, such as we have many times discussed. Tell him that you recognise that men are not naturally monogamous, that most of them have appetites that cannot be contained by one partner.” “I think I know women who might be similarly described,” said Jane with a smile. “Be that as it may,” Elizabeth replied. “The point is, you must tell him that the wise wife allows her husband freedom. But only on her own terms. She will permit her husband to consort only with those of whom she approves, and only with her permission in advance. Thus there will be no surprises and no secrecy. If things proceed in this manner, both parties will profit. The husband will have reason to be grateful to his wife for his freedom, and I think I can say that in many cases his desire for his wife is enhanced by sampling the wares to be found elsewhere. And the wife will have not only a contented husband, but one who, if she picks the right partner for him, has enlarged his knowledge of the possibilities of the bedroom and enhanced his skills.” “And that, dear Lizzie, is why I think you are perfect the task. I believe none are so knowledgeable as you about such matters. You have such experience, and your understanding of men is unsurpassed.” Elizabeth laughed. “I would never lay claim to that distinction, but I will allow that I have picked up some few skills along the way, which I shall endeavour to share with your beloved once you have made him cognisant of both our intentions for him.” This was the full extent of the conversation she had had with Jane earlier in the day, but ever since she had turned it over and over in her mind. She felt a heavy responsibility in undertaking the task she had set herself. If it went wrong, Jane’s happiness could be ruined. Elizabeth stared into the mirror, intent on planning exactly how to set about her undertaking. As if that were not enough to occupy her mind, there was another matter which weighed upon her. But before she could turn her thoughts to that, Nell, her personal maid, entered the room to prepare her for bed. As Nell undressed her, Elizabeth experienced a slight frisson, as so often at such times, arising from the nature of her relationship with this girl. Nell was pretty, with blonde curls, a rosy-red mouth inviting kisses, and a sturdy, well-developed body. Soon after she had been first engaged by Elizabeth, she had hinted, by various glances and seemingly innocuous caresses, that a closer bond between them was on offer, should her mistress care to embrace it. At that time Elizabeth had no experience of the physical pleasure which one girl might derive from another, over and beyond some childhood crushes which had resulted in nothing more than innocent kisses. But observing Nell closely, and knowing something of love between women even if she had not yet experienced it, and indeed being somewhat curious in s****l matters generally, Elizabeth did not discourage such overtures, and thus was not altogether surprised when one evening, having undressed her and standing behind her naked form ready with Elizabeth’s nightgown, Nell had laid a hand upon her shoulder and gently stroked it. Staring at her in the mirror she remarked upon the perfection of Elizabeth’s breasts. Elizabeth said nothing, but merely sat waiting to see what transpired. Her lack of any negative response emboldened Nell to the point of lowering a hand and taking hold of Elizabeth’s right breast, squeezing it and then taking the n****e between finger and thumb. Elizabeth gasped, whereupon Nell took hold of her left breast in similar manner, stroking both, squeezing and caressing. After a moment she spoke.