Chapter One

 

"I hear," said Sir Thomas, "that since he got her with child he's lost interest."

"I believe it," said his companion. "He has but two uses for women. One is that they provide him with a male heir. Which she cannot do, since he is married to another, and so is she, and an heir cannot be illegitimate."

"And the second?" said Sir Thomas, knowing what the answer would be.

"To slake his lust. Once her belly shows, his desire flags."

"There are some who like nothing better than a roll with a girl with a round belly. They say such girls are lusty, even lewd in their appetites."

"I think Henry is not among that number. He likes them slim and girlish, with small breasts and tight little bottoms."

"Mary has a sister who would fit that description. I've heard."

"Anne? Yes, so I am told."

"She's recently returned from several years in France."

"Has she learned French ways?"

They both laughed.

"I had a French whore once, for a whole weekend. She certainly knew a trick or two," said Sir Thomas.

"They say they like to use their mouth as if it were their cunny," said his friend.

"Indeed they do," said Sir Thomas. "She told me that it was just as a way of avoiding conception. But I think it was for lust. Nothing pleased her more than to take my member in her mouth and suck on it, for a full hour if I would let her, and then drain all the spunk out of me and swallow it."

"Sheer wantonness," said his companion.

"She delighted in stroking me while she sucked, so that my effusion went directly into her mouth. While she stroked and sucked there were other refinements too."

"Pray tell," said his friend.

"She liked to fiddle with my fundament," said Sir Thomas. "Her nimble fingers went into me, fingering deftly, then emerging to squeeze my balls before further working of my ass. It was pure lechery."

"Surely no English wench, be she ever so bawdy, would venture to such a debauch."

"Perhaps not; though I believe there are some who would have the mind to do it if it were suggested to them."

"Are there French whores in London who would perform such feats?"

"I am sure," said Sir Thomas. "Down among the stews in Bermondsey there are places that hath such. Shall we visit one day soon?"

"Indeed," said the friend. "I should admire to go."

"If we do, there is one more thing to mention. French men have a taste for buggery, with women as well as boys; the women encourage them, and in truth they lead them on to it. Of course a whore may say that is only another way to avoid being got with child, but like the mouth I think it is for lechery too."

"Some say the French men like it because in truth they all favour boys; the rump of a woman, however choice, is but a substitute for the ripe ass of a peachy boy. But acting thus with a girl may be judged with more leniency, more in line with what the Church teaches against sodomy, whereas congress with a boy is an abomination."

"Then half the clerics in England are condemned to hellfire," said Sir Thomas, laughing. "Though surely the Church does not condone sodomy, even with a woman."

"Perhaps not, but they would say it is more natural."

"Natural? How can it be natural to embed one's root in a woman's ass?"

"Be that as it may, Sir Thomas, it is a fact that Frenchwomen are partial to such an act, as are their men. And perhaps Anne, newly arrived from the land of licence, is adept at such a practice."

"Does the King favour such tricks?"

"I know not. But let he who first tries mistress Anne prove it so," said Sir Thomas.

"Shall it be you, friend?"

"I fear not. I am in pursuit of other game. And, with her sister already in the King's bed, she is too close to the throne for comfort. I value my head more than the pleasures of French practices, however pleasing."

"Wise words. But someone, more foolhardy than you, will try her, I am sure."

"I have been told she is irresistible, both for her looks and for her wiles. I shall stay away."

 

 

One of the speakers was Sir Thomas Wyatt, courtier, poet, wit, lover. Some said later that he had carnal knowledge of Anne Boleyn, the subject of his conversation with his friend; by the time of her death her name had been dragged through the gutter to the extent that half the menfolk of England might have been thought to have bedded her. His friend was the Earl of Surrey, another poet and courtier. At the very moment this conversation was taking place, the subject of it, Anne Boleyn, was putting into practice some of the lessons she had learned during her sojourn in France. Anne was determined to lose no time in furthering her ambitions once she was introduced at the English court, and was standing by a window in a secluded corner of the Palace of Westminster. Standing beside her was the Duke of Richmond. Within the past week, Anne had managed to make the acquaintance of this noble and now was set to turn it to her advantage.

"What do you wish from me, sweet lady?" the Duke asked.

"I should like, sir, if you would have the king notice me."

"And in return?"

"What do you desire, sir?"

"I shall not request. You must make an offer."

Anne stood closer. Several times the Comtesse, her French tutor in such matters, had made her practise the furtive opening of a gentleman's doublet. Anne had become skilled at such a manoeuvre. Now her hand descended to the Duke's crotch and deftly found its way inside. Quickly she located his prick, which she was pleased to find big and warm. She squeezed it.

"Should you like something of this nature, sir?" she said sweetly, not looking at him but staring straight ahead.

The Duke grunted. "Show me what you can do," he said.

Anne pulled the Duke's prick out into the open. She looked down at it. "It is a fine weapon, my lord," she said. She knew how all men loved to have their pricks praised. "I think I should like to see it shoot, if that is your pleasure."

She loved to feel a man's prick in her hand. It always made her feel powerful, to hold his pleasure under her control. No doubt a prick in one's cunny was also something to be cherished, and one day she would know that pleasure. In the meantime, to feel the prick alive in her hand was a delight. She rubbed it slowly.

"There are other things you might do to please me," he said.

"Which things are they?" she said. Of course she knew only too well.

"Shall I lift up your skirts?" he said.

"Oh, sir, I could not allow that. Not here, in such a public place. And besides, I am a maid."

"You have a pretty mouth," he replied. "I know a thing you could do with it, if you went on your knees."

"I fear I cannot do that either, my lord, not on this occasion. The risk of discovery is too great. Your reputation would survive it but mine would not."

She moved her hand to his balls, caressing them, gently squeezing. The Comtesse had told her some men like this. Then she moved back to his prick, stroking now with more intent. She wondered whether to finish him or not. The Comtesse had told her it was often better to leave a man still in need of release, to leave him wanting more. But would frustration really help the Duke's state of mind? If he was given pleasure, would he not be likely to come back for more? The decision was taken from her, for just at that moment she heard footsteps approaching, heavy boots echoing on the stone floor. Hurriedly she pushed the Duke's prick back into his doublet, only just in time before a member of his entourage approached.

"The king has required to see you, my lord," he said. For a moment Anne thought she might be able to accompany him. But the Duke turned and walked quickly away from her. Not for the first or last time, Anne bemoaned her lack of importance. The sense that she counted for so little in the scheme of things rankled in her bosom. One day she would outrank them all, she vowed, and those who had ignored her would regret their lack of respect.

 

 

As Thomas and his friend had surmised, Anne had acquired a thorough sexual education during her time in France. There was a great deal more to it than training her mouth and learning how to make her bottom serviceable for a man's pleasure, though this was certainly included. For, as Anne came to understand, it was not in essence about knowing what to do with various parts of the body, either hers or a man's. Rather, it was a matter of understanding the dynamics of sexual attraction, how to manage the ebb and flow of a man's desire, how to stoke it while keeping it in check, and how to turn to good advantage the appeal of her body and the skill with which she used it. In that process, physical acts were only part of what was involved. In fact, in her earlier interactions with young men, Anne only very rarely allowed them access to her person. She knew there were other girls about court who were not reluctant to permit a man to fondle, to insert his hand into her clothing, either down the front of her dress, or from the other direction, from underneath. She knew there were girls that were even prepared to allow men further access than merely touching, girls who, if the inducements were sufficient, would open their legs and even their cunnies, that a man might penetrate them, not merely with a finger or two but with the ultimate weapon in his armoury. But Anne also knew that there were grave dangers in allowing such freedoms; if she had ever been in doubt, the dangers were there now to be seen, in the figure of her sister, five or six months gone, past the point where disguise was possible. She vowed at an early age that no man would ever penetrate this most precious of places until she wore a band of gold on her finger.

Having made such a decision, she resolved to learn all the ways in which a girl might secure advancement for herself without going to the ultimate. She discovered that so eager were most men for a touch, a sniff or a taste, that they could be enticed by a flirtatious word, by a light and feathery kiss on the cheek, by the "accidental" show of an ankle, neatly encased in a white silk stocking, or, if a girl were daring or needed some extra means of persuasion, then a discreet stroking of a delicate white hand over a manly swell in a doublet would most likely have the desired effect.

During her time at the French court Anne was fortunate enough to have not only a circle of friends, young French ladies equally as curious, flirtatious and wanton as herself, but also two older monitors, both of whom had offered to her parents to take Anne under their wing and guard against the many sorties that would doubtless be made upon her virtue.

One was the Comtesse de la Tournelle, a widow of some fifty years old. Many people around the court were in the habit of describing her as a highly respectable lady of impeccable morals. But some, wiser perhaps in the ways of the court and of the world in general, were more apt to refer to her as a lascivious old bawd, whose chief motivation was in preparing innocent young girls for seduction by old, rich men, for which she received, it was said, a handsome fee, as well as the pick of the client's male servants for her recreation. Anne's parents, wise neither in the ways of the French world, nor of its court, were too much inclined to take the Comtesse at face value. Thus it was that in her early days as an ingénue Anne was in serious danger of having her reputation soiled before she had even made a start to her career.

Fortunately she was saved by her other mentor, the elderly Marquis de Saint-Briand. A noted libertine all his life, the Marquis, too old for running around any more, had latterly take to chaperoning (as he put it) new arrivals at the court, shepherding them away from dangers to their virtue but teaching how they might put their good looks to their advantage. Anne was keen to learn. From early years her father had impressed on her how impoverished the family was. Since he had no money for her dowry, he said, she must set herself to enrichment through her own efforts. He told her she was blessed with a pretty face and a graceful body and that must be her fortune. She should learn how to increase men's desire for her without selling herself cheap. Marriage must be the key to her fortune.

Anne took this advice to heart. She saw how men looked at her, and she set out to make the most of it. The Marquis, having been introduced to her by her father, was full of counsel on the best ways to stoke men's desires.

"Men of the better sort do not care for whores," he said, "unless a man be brimful of spunk and simply require rutting."

Anne thought his frankness of speech rather shocking; no Englishman of her acquaintance would have addressed her thus. But she realised that the French were less hypocritical when it came to matters between the sexes. "What do they then prefer, sir?" she said, affecting an innocence she was already beginning to leave behind.

"A gentleman likes a girl to appear modest in public, her eyes lowered, nothing of a leg revealed above an ankle, the breasts suggested but not openly offered by her dress, her smile fresh and welcoming, not sly or sensual."

"And when not in public, sir?" Anne asked.

"In private, Frenchmen like women to be lustful, frank in their desires, open to all experiment. Filthy, in a word."

Anne blushed. She had been made to believe that men liked a blush in a girl, some physical evidence of shame and virtue, and she practised it in the mirror every morning.

"I suppose, dear Marquis," Anne said coyly, "that if I allowed it, you would recite to me all the variations of licence which women may engage in without going to the ultimate?"

"To list them all would take many an afternoon, I fear, though I should be happy to begin at your convenience."

"Suppose," said Anne, looking about her, "we should take but one example today. Will you tell me what it is and how it is done?"

It was the middle of the afternoon. The ladies of the court were mostly seated in the card room, engaged in whichever game they preferred, while partaking of coffee or chocolate, often accompanied with tiny glasses of the choicest liqueurs. Anne occupied a window seat, gazing out into the grounds of the palace. It was a fine afternoon; perhaps she and the Marquis would later take a turn about the park. Last time they were together he had described an act which had taken her by surprise and which she had thought exceptionally lewd, but which had given her such a sharp pleasure to hear of that she could not bring herself to castigate him for his effrontery, nor had she been able to forget about it. But she knew that there were dozens of such acts in the experience of a man with such a long history of lechery, and she wanted to benefit from his knowledge, besides experiencing an occasional sensual thrill. And he was after all, an old man; his limp member was surely no threat to her virtue.

"I can describe many such acts to you, dear lady. One I have in mind requires the presence of a third person if it is to be illustrated."

"Oh," said Anne. It had, in her innocence, not occurred to her that amatory performances might involve more than two. Or that they might move so immediately from mere discussion to enactment.

"Is the third person required to be another lady, or at least a wench, or a gentleman?"

"It could be either," said the Marquis. "But it becomes a different experience if the sex of the third party alters."

"When might such an occasion present itself, dear Marquis?"

"Patience, child," he said. "It will take a day or two to make the necessary arrangements."

Anne was most intrigued. She experienced that tingling sensation between her legs which she had recently become familiar with as her lessons from both the Marquis and the Comtesse had progressed. She had mentioned this sensation to the Comtesse, who had said, rather teasingly, that she knew a cure for that.

She glanced at the clock on the shelf. It would soon be time for the evening soiree, at which girls such as herself showed themselves, flirted when they got the chance, or even conducted their affairs with their lovers in shadowy nooks. Anne liked always to look her best. She summoned her maid and ordered the hip bath to be filled. Before the fire, burning softly in its grate, she disrobed and lay back in the water, perfumed and lathered. Once more her hand stretch to that spot between her legs. She wondered when the Comtesse had planned to have her cunny shaved. The more she thought about it, the more she was attracted to the idea. Whether her cunny was pretty or not she did not know. But she was certain it was the one part of a woman that men most desired to see. If ever she found herself in a situation where such a revelation might be made, she thought a cunny denuded of hair, or mostly so, would afford a gentleman as much view as he desired.

The Comtesse's habitual flowery language nevertheless hid a good deal of sense, and Anne always listened to what she had to say. She was all too aware that she was as yet a naïve, unsophisticated girl who had much to learn about relations between men and women. If she wished to rise in society, and undoubtedly she did, she knew she must listen to such as the Comtesse, especially if what she had to say went against Anne's own beliefs or experiences. Recently the Comtesse had mentioned to her that her late husband had been fond of kissing her cunny. To have a man put his mouth upon her cunny was to Anne's mind unnatural, even disgusting. But that it might be a source of pleasure for both parties was something she needed to consider. The proof of that pudding, she thought, would be in the eating; she smiled at the appositeness of the phrase. At some time, if a suitable opportunity arose, she would have to make a try.