The Classic Olivia M. Ravensworth by Olivia M. Ravensworth
For the first time in nearly 20 years, the original three novels of famed erotica author Olivia M. Ravensworth are back in print!
In The Mistress of Castle Rohmenstadt, young Katherine inherits a secluded castle deep the in forests of Eastern Europe. Within these dark stone walls, the outwardly innocent American finds mystery piled upon mystery. What motivates the avuncularly smirking butler, the saucy twin chambermaids, and the other servants who cater to Katherine’s increasingly unashamed whims? Why does it grow so easy for the once-shy girl to explore her every desire, to punish her shapely twin French brunettes so intimately for any seeming slight, to demand more, ever more? Exactly what kind of man was the ancient, distantly related benefactor who set up such a household of perversion? And to what secret does the locked door at the base of the northeast turret lead…?
The Desires of Rebecca follows a runaway of Elizabethan England, a waif cast out when another girl’s father stumbles upon their amorous dallying. Sobbing and ashamed, and with her naked flesh cut by the shocked man’s savage lash, Rebecca must flee. From the idyllic countryside of Devon, to the caravan of a Gypsy girl who understands her all too well, to the shadowy back alleys of the most sordid lanes of London, the once-sheltered blonde must make her way in a wide, threatening world. When in a sailors’ dive she meets an enigmatic redhead who commands an all-female crew of buccaneers, it seems Rebecca might have found her place at last. And yet her stern Captain may very well be as cruel a mistress as the raging sea…
Domestic Service shows what happens when a middle-aged yet still passionate couple find themselves with an empty nest. Seemingly out of the blue, Alan’s wife urges him to hire a live-in domestic, and though he is diffident, he cannot resist her growing entreaties. With surprising swiftness, then, Janet has found someone: a slinky, dark-eyed doctoral student witty and lovely and sly. It is too, too coincidental, and yet except for his own sudden primal surge of attraction, Alan has no objections he can raise. The three fall into a cozy life together, and yet when the faithful man comes to believe it is growing dangerously cozy, he suddenly realizes that he doesn’t even know the half of it…
Includes: female domination, masturbation, female bisexuality, gay sex, outdoor sex, oral sex, anal sex, lesbian sex, whipping, bondage, gags, dildos, and threesomes.
Katherine woke in the morning to the sight of the two chambermaids, Marie and Celeste, looking down into her face. “Good morning, Mademoiselle Katherine,” they chorused sweetly. Their French accent was beautiful, almost seductive in the way their pretty lips seemed to caress the vowels. It made them seem worldly and sophisticated…and yet somehow vulnerable at the same time, too. Sensing it subconsciously, Katherine suddenly wanted to protect these dear servants of hers, even though they were probably no younger—or less capable of looking out for themselves—than Katherine herself. And yet the strange feeling also made her wonder.
One of the girls—Celeste, Katherine remembered, the one with the faint scar on her left cheek—smiled faintly. Had they wakened her—or had they simply been standing there, staring?
Belatedly she pulled the covers up around her neck. She had slept soundly after having masturbated herself to sleep the night before, and she had not changed into her pajamas or even taken off her clothing. Her soiled clothes were exactly as she had left them, white cotton blouse unbuttoned, bra straps off her rounded shoulders and cups below her bare breasts…jeans unzipped and half off, panties stiff with dried lubrication.
Katherine’s nose crinkled self-consciously. She could smell herself, she realized, a strong musky scent. Surely the other girls could smell it, too. She blushed fiercely.
“Time to get up now, Mademoiselle Katherine.” Marie pulled back the blankets to reveal Katherine’s rumpled clothes and half-naked body. Katherine sat up awkwardly, trying to cover herself somehow, but Marie seemed to find nothing amiss. The girl’s dark eyes swept Katherine’s nude flesh matter-of-factly, then looked away politely.
Celeste smiled again, ever so faintly, and handed Katherine a big, soft robe of rose-colored terry cloth. She watched disinterested as Katherine stepped quickly into it. “I have prepared your bath, mademoiselle.”
“Uh, thank you, Celeste,” she managed, wrapping the robe around her exposed body. A great silky K was embroidered upon the garment’s left breast in elegant cursive. The tie which nestled about her slim waist was detailed most delicately along its edges with a rosebud motif, and for a moment she ran the feminine, almost-Braille like needlework between her appreciative fingertips and thumb. How touching, Katherine thought, that the castle staff had spared no effort to help make her feel at home.
Marie saw her and smiled. “Inge is a most accomplished seamstress, no?”
“It’s lovely,” said Katherine. Then she wriggled her hips out of the jeans and musky panties and headed uncertainly toward the adjoining bathroom. The two girls busied themselves changing her bed, and she shut the door self-consciously.
After she had used the toilet and brushed her teeth, Katherine slipped gingerly into the great claw-footed bathtub. This was no mass-produced modern plastic device, but a veritable pool constructed of cast iron and covered with gleaming porcelain. It was longer and wider than any other tub she had ever seen, and consequently more comfortable.
The water was warm and deep. She had just settled in when, to her great surprise, the door opened and Marie and Celeste stepped in quietly. Her hands flew reflexively to her breasts, sending water splashing all about. She tried to say something, but Marie anticipated her.
“Why, mademoiselle,” the pretty girl said disarmingly, “this is but one of our duties.”
“Yes, mademoiselle,” her sister agreed. “There is no need for the mistress of Castle Rohmenstadt to worry herself about such as this.” Celeste’s slim white hand indicated the tub. “We shall take care of your needs, no?”
Katherine bit her lip uncertainly.
“Here, now. I will scrub your back.” Marie removed the back brush from its hook and wet and soaped it. Before Katherine could even think to protest, Marie began scrubbing the brush gently across Katherine’s back, from her shoulders down to her hips, opening the pores, stimulating the skin. Soon she began to use her hands also, wet palms rubbing out a tightened muscle, nails scratching deliciously beneath Katherine’s shoulder blades. Katherine had to admit to herself that it did feel good.
She knew she should be embarrassed to have someone see her like this, to have them help her with her bath…but the situation really was harmless enough. It was only the two girls. They were her servants, after all, and apparently this was their job. And they were as calm and polite as could be. She tried to ignore them.
Celeste dropped wordlessly to her knees at the front of the bathtub. She favored Katherine with a reassuring smile as she slipped her pale hands, her slim wrists, her smooth-muscled forearms into the water. She found the soap and began bathing Katherine’s feet.
At first it tickled, and Katherine could not help squirming. Yet as her embarrassment gradually ebbed away, the gentle pressure of Celeste’s hands began to soothe her. Katherine found herself relaxing, accepting the deft fingers which now stroked and massaged the sensitive bottoms of her feet, her tingling toes, her ankles and calves. Sighing, she let her half-lidded eyes slide closed. She leaned back, luxuriating in the liquid warmth of the antique bathtub.
Then Marie began to wash her hair, tapering white fingers twining sensuously in rich auburn tresses. Eyes contentedly closed, Katherine gave herself up to the cleansing caresses of the beautiful duo. Marie’s hands worked at her scalp, her neck and shoulders, while Celeste diligently stroked her soapy feet, her rounded calves, her knees…even higher.
“Mmm…” Katherine murmured. “Very nice…”
“Thank you, mademoiselle,” Marie whispered, softly, her full lips so close that her warm breath tickled Katherine’s earlobe. “You see, we do know just how to take care of our mistress.”
“Yes…” Katherine sighed.
Katherine floated serenely, sightless, only half-aware of the girlish hands which laved her naked body so gently. She reveled silently while her faithful servants soothed her tired muscles, stroked her silken skin unabashedly. Their smooth hands explored her ready flesh slowly.
Hands worked at her back and shoulders, her neck and collarbones. She scarcely seemed to notice as those careful, bathing hands cupped and released her buoyant young breasts tenderly. But what she did notice made her shiver. She tried not to think about it, for if she had not known better, she almost would have imagined that those unseen hands— But, no, that could not be.
Her stiffening nipples were rolled casually between soap-slicked thumbs and forefingers. The sensation was delicious, and as cloyingly familiar as the scent of her own body beneath the covers at night. Yet somehow everything seemed remote and dreamlike, as if it were happening to someone else entirely. Nothing made any sense.
But it felt so comfortable, so natural. Her mind wandered. She felt good, all over.
Hands glided over her calves, the sensitive skin behind her trembling knees, her loosening thighs. Competent fingers stroked her slim waist and swelling hips, massaged the flesh of her rounded buttocks. Her breath coming slow and deep, Katherine felt loving hands scrubbing her fluttering belly.
Her breasts felt strange—distant and yet so full and warm—as fingernails scratched relentlessly through her tangled pubic bush. Soft digits worked out snarls, thoroughly washed the fur and massaged the skin underneath. The caresses seemed to work deep into her body.
Then those disembodied fingers drifted unconcernedly down. They glided across tender open thighs, brushed faintly against lips which quivered at their touch.
Of its own volition, Katherine’s back arched as she floated there unashamedly in the rich darkness, and her secret places seemed to rise up toward the exploring hands. Innocent fingertips continued, silently. They played gently across open pink flesh, her lightly furred lips parted instinctively to expose a pulsing button that longed for attention. Katherine floated, eyes closed, mind contentedly adrift.
Katherine’s breath came faster as loving caresses seemed to cover her whole body. Her young breasts were aflame, and her sensitive ears and throat tingled to soft wet pressures whose source she neither knew nor cared. Her hips churned slowly.
And all the while the very core of her womanhood trembled with sensations she had never before experienced in the presence of another. She could not acknowledge the source of the subtly familiar feelings, could not understand. She could only dimly realize that they felt good…very good.
Despite the readiness of her healthy young body, still her mind hesitated. Katherine knew not why, for her brain seemed incapable of forming any rational thought. For awhile she muddled along, attempting to think without words, forgetting what she was trying to debate in the first place. And all the while those underlying sensations spread.
Slowly, slowly her pleasure intensified. From their coiled nest somewhere beneath her taut belly, those secret joys began to ripple up and down her spasming nerves. Suddenly she felt she was falling, but it was a welcome fall into a nirvana of indescribably pure and satisfying sensations, and she fell with a joyous innocence. The feelings reverberated through her trembling limbs, glowing red at the base of her brain, pulsing at the very core of her being. Gradually they grew to become a pleasure so exquisitely torturous that soon she was gasping in uncontrollable delight.
She writhed ecstatically in the liquid darkness, eyes tightly closed, on and on, wave after wave of the most intense sensations filling her helpless body, shaking her…until, breathless and spent, she lay back exhausted. She floated there, gloriously fulfilled. Her orgasm died away slowly.
Gradually Katherine realized the shocking enormity of what had happened. She hid behind her closed eyelids, so hideously embarrassed that she had no idea of what to do next. Her beautiful flush of pleasure became the burning blush of shame. What could she possibly say? How could she dare to open her eyes?
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