Swapping notes with Kay about my weekend plans, I mentioned that I was going to the local farmers’ market. And, of course, I had to corrupt the idea:
One could almost imagine a gentleman instructing a girl to be good and go and fetch her produce from the market. I have images of the daughter of a Victorian house, walking down the streets with her shopping hamper, ignoring the wolf-whistles from the common boys.
Of her buying the milk. Of her also spending a penny of her change on a small bar of chocolate, and eating it as she walked along.
Of her stepfather later, counting the change. Realising it was short. Calling her into his study…
What amused and delighted me was her reply, which made the whole thing so much hotter:
Of her claiming the price had gone up by a penny. Of him accepting the explanation, and letting her go.
Of the following week, when he casually enquired of her sister how much she had paid for the milk she had been sent to fetch.
Of his anger as he called the girl back into his study. Of the whipping he gave her for the original offence, and the far harder one for lying…
So hot! I really do need to buy some Victorian clothes for roleplay…