He's intrigued

Dear Sir Williard,

It is early in the morning, a little after 2 AM local time by the rose-tooled mantle clock under its glass dome, and Lady Peach has left me. Once again I find myself stunned by the sheer sexual licentiousness of the Dame of this notable family. Back on Earth, while certainly not a Casanova, I had considered myself a worldly man but I am learning each day how little I actually knew about the intimate relationships between men and women. If asked a year ago, I would have stated with some certainty that sodomy was an act reserved for those deviant men who live in the shadows of society meeting with other like-minded men in private clubs. Just now I have experienced the pleasures of this act, not with one of those effete prancing dandies, but under the gentle coaxing of none other than Lady Peach herself.

She appeared, as usual, wearing a ankle-length hooded robe that concealed her identity (at least in theory) should she be spotted making her way from her rooms to my suite. However, once in the privacy of my rooms she shed her robe with a practiced shrug of her slender shoulders and stood before me wearing nothing but shear lace undergarments. I'm afraid I lack the nomenclature of women's clothing to correctly identify the articles that barely covered her lovely form, but cups of lace supported her full breasts and lace filigree swirled about her belly and hips accentuating rather than concealing her beauty. Even the tiny triangle of silk that covered her sex and the stockings that clung to her pale thighs without the need for garters did nothing to conceal her shapely legs.

"Do you like this little outfit?" Lady Peach asked me quite needlessly as I stepped to meet my lovely hostess grabbing her buttocks and squeezing them firmly. "Easy, easy Doctor." She laughed good-naturedly resting her slender hands on my shoulders and squeezing them appreciatively. "I need to show you something tonight. It's important that you learn this before you fuck my daughter this week." Those, my lord, were her exact words and I found myself both intrigued and shocked by crude profanity especially when talking about her own daughter.

Lady Peach went on to remind me that I must take precautions not to impregnate the lovely Miss Peach, who was (according to her mother) at her fertile period for the next several days. I did my best to assure her that I would not again allow Miss Peach to visit me again, but she laughed at me gaily kissing me warmly to ease the sting of her mirth. She assured me that Miss Peach, now that she had discovered the pleasures of sex, would batter down my doors to get my cock into her; left unsaid was the implied corollary that as a lustful man that I'd be unable to resist the temptation of a lithesome young gentlewoman begging me to take her.

"No Doctor Baxter, if you don't bang that sex starved daughter of mine she'll turn to any man with a cock, we can't have her throwing herself at Hunter's friends or one of the dark-skinned servants here on my estate." You can well imagine Sir Williard the scandal that something like that would cause!

"I don't understand." I told her, "you say I must not risk getting Miss Peach with child, and yet I am to 'bang her'?" Lady Peach smiled again and turned in my arms pressing her backside to the bard bulge in my pants and wiggling against me.

"That's what I'm here to teach you."

What followed, my lord, was a rigorous (albeit very pleasant) lesson in anal sex, from the use of lubricant to prepare the tight passage, to the angle and pacing that ensures pleasure for both parties. The feeling of pressing through the tight sphincter and deep into the forbidden passage of a peer of the greatest Empire the world has ever known made me almost roar in triumph, Lady Peach was not unaffected by the taboo nature of the act and as she rocked on her hands and knees on the bed before me her language became even less proper until her words would have put a Singapore whore to shame. After a careful entry into this forbidden passage, I was able to pick up both the pace and depth of my thrusts until I was pounding the ass of Lady Peach with unfettered enthusiasm.

The profound sexual relief was just what I needed Sir Williard after meeting with Hunter's friends. The group of young men provided me with a much greater decision than I could possibly have anticipated when Hunter invited me to take a tour in his gyro-copter. I have been sworn to secrecy, so I will continue my custom of using pseudonyms rather than speaking plainly as would have been my preference. I must say however, that in my mind at least, compared to the repeated incidents of perversion and immorality I have detailed, the righteous indignation of Hunter's friends at the lack of response by our government to the provocation of the American raids was a refreshing change.

We met in the den of a large mansion, this room was decorated with a variety of exotic swords, firm-arms of all types and hunting trophies. There were no china teapots, gilded mirrors or frilly curtains in this room, this was a man's room and it did not surprise me in the least to see three young men lounging in comfortable leather chairs drinking whisky and exchanging playful jibes. When Hunter and I entered the hall, these men popped to their feet and circled me not unlike sharks circling a wounded seal. It took several minutes but gradually one-by-one the three fellows seemed to decide that I was alright and with that I was invited to sit at the table and a stiff drink was pressed into my hand.

It seems that Hunter and his cabal were planning a raid of their own and wanted to have me join their company as ship's doctor. The eldest of the men, Lord Black had in his possession a spaceship capable of reaching the large moon orbiting Rajah-5 where the Americans are said to be covertly mining soma although on a much smaller scale than the mines on this British colony. The source of this intelligence was a slender man with gold-rimmed glasses and a habit of checking his pocket watch every several minutes almost as if he had a train to catch. Mr. Watch either worked in the foreign office or had a source that worked in this department because he was clearly well informed about all sorts of matters involving the Americans and their activities. The last of the three men like Hunter was the son of a highly placed officer in the Company, both Hunter and this man (I'll call him Blade) were well accustomed to handling all manner of weapons, including but not restricted to aether-rifles, gunpowder weapons, and almost any edged blade ever forged.

A Royal British survey map of the large moon with satellite imagery of mining compound superimposed on the detailed chart was laid out on the polished blackwood table and we gathered about it to hear what Mr. Watch could tell us about the small American outpost. After some discussion Lord Black took charge of the small party and told us his plan for how the raid was going to take place. The plan is to drive the inhabitants of this lunar operation into their mines and then after securing as much of their raw soma as possible, destroy the outpost and send a strong message that the colonists on Rajah-4 will not be trifled with. I remember feeling distinctly relieved to hear Lord Black's plan the operation to minimize the loss of life; as a healer it is not in my nature to sow destruction like a vengeful raptor from above even if the damn Yankees deserved every bit of it. After yet another glance at his watch, the slender man who had provided the information turned to look at me with sharp-eyed interest.

"Well, Dr. Baxter, we have trusted you with our intent." He asked almost overly casually "Will you to join our jolly company of avengers?"