The Experiment Begins

Over the next week, Francis Bacon spent as much time with Lady Needycunt Hatton as his duties as Her Majesty’s Counsel would allow. Much of their time was spent at Ely Place, where Lady Hatton was kind enough to demonstrate her skills at both the harpsichord and fellatio, as expected of a lady of her station. When she rode him, they chatted idly of current developments in art and poetry, but Francis had to admit that they seemed to have little in common. Despite her agreement to participate in the experiment, Lady Hatton evinced little interest in his scientific pursuits. Still, she demonstrated great aplomb at those skills the Master required of a woman, including a level of enthusiasm that Francis had sometimes found sorely lacking among the women of Her Majesty’s Court during his time there. As is common when a man seeks a woman’s favor, he granted all her requests to orgasm.

On the final evening of Francis' week with the Lady, he took her to the Curtain Theatre in Shoreditch for the latest play by Master Shakespeare, an outing for which The Professor accompanied them, though his new friend agreed to leave Needycunt's attention fully to Francis. He would have preferred an offering by Jonson or a revival of one of the works of the late Marlowe, but The Professor had insisted on this particular play, the first part of a history concerning King Henry IV. Why, Francis knew not, but the entertainment was perfectly serviceable, and the company of Lady Hatton in their box during the performance was more than satisfactory.

The Professor appeared surprised at the presence of women on stage at the Curtain, which Francis supposed was fair enough, given the man's views generally on the fairer sex. However, Francis could not see how any male actor would be able to convincingly portray a woman upon the stage, given their inherent lack of clothes, and in fact it would have been highly frowned upon by the local constables for a man to publicly perform many of the feats requested by the playwright of his feminine performers. The latter issue became of particular moment during the production’s depiction of Prince Hal’s rebellious youth with his friend Falstaff, the pair trading humourous barbs as they entered the same female performer at either end. Falstaff’s quip about the lady’s resemblance to a roasted hog upon a spit brought the most uproarious laughter of the evening.

The Professor also asked Francis a series of strange questions regarding the origins of the play performed before them, of which Francis obviously had no knowledge. He eventually admitted to Francis that he was attempting to test a theory, allegedly believed by some, alleging Francis himself to be the author of some or all of the works of this Shakespeare. Again, Francis asked the man to name his sources for such a bizarre and incredulous claim, but his new friend hedged without answering.

At the end of the night’s festivities, Francis returned Lady Hatton to Ely Place in his carriage. He walked her to her doorstep, where she knelt before him and kissed the tip of cock, then thanked him politely for his hospitality before repairing within. She was the picture of ladylike refinement, as always. Overall, he counted the week a success, and he reminded himself that if it were not, he would be no worse off than before. After all, surely no English Lady would prefer the sort of treatment Francis had observed The Professor giving to Needycunt on the evening of their initial acquaintance. He had confidence in the scientific process.

He didn’t see Lady Hatton or The Professor for a few days after that. Nor did she see any of her other gentlemen callers, according to the usual rumor mill. Francis, however, kept himself busy during this time. He was even called to an audience with Her Majesty, an invitation that he found surprising given the currently chilly state of his relationship with the Crown. However, the meeting turned out to be almost entirely business-like and unremarkable, though it took two full days as he had to first make the ride out to Richmond, then wait for his audience, then make the ride back to London the following day.

Despite the arguments of Francis’ new friend against the idea of a female ruler, some part of Francis never failed to be moved to patriotism by actually being in the Royal Presence. Queen Needycunt was now sixty-five years of age, and had, since her accession to the throne, been exempted by long tradition and an official declaration of the Galder from her duties to men under the laws of the Master. In essence, the Queen was a sort of an honorary man under the law. But even at her now-advanced age, Needycunt still endeavoured to follow as many of the Master’s commandments as she could without neglecting her duties.

Though her stomach and thighs now showed the stretching and wrinkles of age, her Royal Breasts remained surprisingly full and firm, her Royal Pussy somehow inviting. In short, Queen Needycunt took pride in remaining fuckable. Many an ode had been written by the poets of this age of the Queen’s tits, and Francis never failed to notice that the actual articles were somehow not oversold by such praise.

Her Majesty wore a small drape against the cold, a concession to her advanced age, but otherwise only her jewels as she questioned Francis about goings on at the Old Bailey. She evinced particular interest in recent treason charges against various members of the Goodcuntian sect. In Francis’ opinion, the Queen of late observed conspiracies where none existed. But that was her business and not his.

On the fourth night of the week, he received a message from a glassy-eyed footman whilst engaged in his legal business at the Old Bailey, which simply read “What’s up, Frank, see you at the bitch’s house tonight.” Though it was unsigned, Francis could immediately surmise the message’s source, and its meaning, despite its obscure language.

That evening, he again arrived at Ely Place, where somewhat to Francis’ surprise he found himself conducted directly to Lady Hatton’s bedroom. There he found The Professor and Needycunt engaged in vigorous coitus, wherein The Professor drove his manhood into her quim much like a miner wielding a hammer. Presently, he spent himself within her pussy, causing his seed to spill forth prodigiously. The Professor then ordered Lady Hatton to continue to pleasure herself up to the brink of orgasm. She nodded eagerly and remained on the bed, rubbing her clit with much alacrity, whilst her partner dressed himself and greeted Francis more formally.

First the pair engaged in some initial pleasantries, followed by the latest version of The Professor’s relentless complaints about the smells of London. He seemed convinced that the common practice of dumping one’s chamber pots into the street and allowing the effluvia to flow into the Thames was somehow in error, as if there were some alternative. Certainly, Francis could not help but agree regarding the smell… he tried to travel to the countryside at least once each year, not least to escape the miasma of the city, but such is the inevitable price of civilization. This discussion was followed by an inquiry into Francis’ experiments, in which The Professor expressed great interest.

Their conversation was interrupted by a **** plea from Lady Hatton, still on the bed, to allow her to orgasm. For this apparent transgression, The Professor rose and slapped Needycunt across the face, grabbed her cheeks to **** her to open her mouth, and then spit within. He then dragged her from the bed by her hair, during which indignity Lady Hatton began giggling uncontrollably, as would a madwoman. The Professor insisted that he had told Needycunt she would not be allowed to come during their week together, and therefore she deserved all punishments which he could mete out.

Certainly, Francis would have agreed The Professor was well within his rights to react so. After all, the 42nd Commandment clearly stated that the purpose of a woman’s orgasm was solely the pleasure of a man. But he would have hesitated to himself treat Lady Hatton in such a way, particularly given his current desires to press his suit with her. Yet, as he watched Needycunt debase herself before her Master, her words and actions did not strike him as **** or false. When she mewled such aphorisms as, “I’m sorry, Master, I am nothing but a worthless cunt, please punish me,” the feeling behind her exhortations appeared genuine, as far as Francis could tell.

The Professor then encouraged Francis to conduct a thorough inquiry of Lady Hatton as to her experiences thus far, in the interests of the advancement of knowledge. Lady Hatton described the past few days as a haze of lust in which she had not been allowed to orgasm and found herself unable to conduct the most basic of affairs. She repeated to Francis the 16th Commandment, that when a man abused a woman, he did so in order to help her serve the Master.

Francis then admonished her for simply repeating scripture, rather than giving an unbiased report of the facts of the matter. By this point she had returned to her masturbation, however, and was positively unable to provide further reporting. The Professor suggested that they wait until such time as the experiment had been completed and Her Ladyship (or as he referred to her, “the fucking cunt”) had some time to recover, as the results were, as of yet, incomplete.

The Professor’s proposal was agreed to, and Francis repaired to his residence, feeling confident that once Lady Hatton had recovered from her horny stupor, she would see that it was far better to be treated as a Lady than to be treated as an object. For the most part, at least.