a slash fanfiction
based on the characters and some events of
Mansfield Park by Jane Austen
Piece the First
"I swear, I have never seen a duller day," the dashing man at
the window
scoffed as he gazed in the the swirling rain.
"Ah, but Henry, rain is not dull," a handsome woman said as she
approached his side, her black curly hair falling coyly from its bun.
"Yes, Henry!" a heavy-set, overconfident young girl said, "The
rain is when
it perfect for making love!"
Henry sighed and rolled his eyes, his back to the girl. He knew
in his heart
that he hated this Maria Burtram. He had eyes of lust for another.
And that someone was near.
A lovely girl with fierce yet kind eyes and dark hair scoffed
slightly. "Maria,
is nothing other on your mind?"
"Please, Julia, if you continue this course you'll become a complete
prudess."
Henry fought back from saying, "And you are not?" but it may
make him
look most unkind.
An older woman in a plain dress and working bonnet bustled into
the room.
"Now, my darling Maria," she said, and added with glances to each girl,
"oh, yes,
Julia, Fanny...There are many things to discuss for my sweet Maria's
wedding.
Come along." She just as quickly left the room.
After the sisters Maria and Julia left the room, the handsome
woman next
to Henry sighed. "Well, I suppose it is my place to continue to sit
and nod while
those three twitter away." She smiled at him and followed her forced
companions.
Henry smiled to himself. Miss Fanny Price's strong nature was
certainly a
good quality in a modern woman. Her wilfulness, he understood from
his
conversations with his sister Mary, was "a mere mask to cover her
insecurities...and a very interest invoking way to court."
Miss Price would make a lovely wife one day.
But not with him.
He turned to the only person left in the room, a youth named
Edmund
Bertram. Nothing like his relatives, he was a very witty dashing young
man, and
he was visibly in some form of love with Miss Price. Of course, that
was never
one to sway Henry.
Henry cleared his throat. "Well, Sir Edmund," he said, "I have
yet seen
many of the estates. Would you give me the liberty of seeing them?"
Edmund looked up. "Oh, er...certainly, Mr. Crawford-"
"Please, Henry."
"Er, alright...Henry."
As they walked down one of the crumbling halls of the western
wing,
Henry kept sneaking more gazes at his tour guide than at the marvellous
etched
paintings of Lady Bertram's prized pug. In one swift motion, he moved
in front of
Edmund.
"You know, I think there is something even more interesting I
could show
you...or that we could show each other," he said, with his working
smile in place.
Edmund shifted uncomfortably and took a step back. "And, that
is...?"
With another quick movement, Henry pinned Edmund against the
wall.
"Look, Edmund, I'm not about to continue playing games anymore." He
lowered
his voice into a seductive whisper, and breathed his words in the Edmund's
ear.
"Unless they're lovers' games."
"You'd be wise to move away from me, Mister Crawford," Edmund
said,
almost trembling.
It seemed to have been that the gods had blessed Henry with zealous
movements, because before the youth could stop him he had cupped his
left
hand onto Edmund's crotch.
Edmund let out a little sound of mixed suprise, horror, and pleasure.
"Gods, let go of me, you sick dog!"
Henry disobeyed very openly, and he only made fleet movements
with his
hand, evoking more sounds from the back of Edmund's throat. He felt
a large
stiffness growing inside Edmund's trousers. "You mouth begs for release,
but
your body begs to be imprisoned. You, Sir Edmund Bertrum, are to be
mine and
mine alone." He began stroking the man's member through his pants as
he hotly
hissed the next words to his affectionerre. "I want you to see only
me. Touch only
me. Think of only me."
Edmund seemed to be violently fighting to keep himself from enjoying
Henry's movements against him. He could feel the blood rushing from
head to
meeting Henry's hand. It was becoming almost painful, and even more
painful to
resist so strongly.
Edmund's opposing reactions were arousing Henry even more. But
he
could very well see Edmund was very near ejaculation. So he released.
Edmund looked up at him with a half pleading, half disgusted
look. Henry
said, "Now, I want you to clean yourself through. Finish what I started.
And while
you do, you must think of me."
He turned on his heel, and walked away.
Piece the Second
Edmund stood in shock. He felt filthy. He had just had to resort
to
something as crude as masturbation because of this new seduction. And
once
worse...
...he HAD thought about Mr. Crawford when he cleaned himself
through.
He felt so thoroughly disgusting! He wanted to take a long cold
bath and
scrape away the feeling of Henry on his skin. He wasn't supposed to
like the
feeling of another man pleasuring him!
There was a knock on his door. His father slowly opened the door,
and
looked in. "Mr. Henry Crawford requests an audience with you." He paused
an
gave his son an appraisingly sceptical look. "My god, boy, you look
horrible." And
he was off.
"I was hoping you would come," Henry Crawford said as Edmund
approached, "in more ways than one." He began walking around the young
man,
every now and then running a slender finger along his shoulderlines.
"You are a very sick man, Mister Crawford, you are wretched.
Men do not
belong together--"
"These are modern times, Sir Edmund. But even in the past time,
men
were freely loving to each other. Shakespeare was a flaming homosexual;
a vast
majority of his sonnets were dedicated to his lust for a young man.
The very first
book ever written was about two men in love, and it was a great piece
of
literature. Kings kept young boys as manservants to molest them as
they
pleased. Some of the builders of our times were avidly, in newer terms,
gay. We
could make great literature together, my dear, if you simply broaden
your
desires."
"You're a mad filthy man, Crawford."
"Believe what you want, because my quests for you are quite erotic."
He
paused to run his finger along the lining on Edmund's fine jacket,
and said, "Miss
Price has a well-bound book of Shakespeare's sonnets...read them for
yourself."
Edmund looked up in horror from Fanny's leather-bound book. //My
god,//
he thought, //Henry was right. These are about men.//
"Edmund?" Fanny said concernedly, "Edmund, are you alright? You
look
truly ill."
Edmund nervously cleared his throat. "Erm, yes, Miss Price, I'm
fine.
Illness does not quail over me...just yet. Er, if you shall forgive
me, I must
precede to bed, I am most tired from the days events." And he left
the bewildered
Fanny behind as he marched to his room.
Edmund's eyes flickered open from his slumber. He could feel a
pressure
upon him. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the light, then looked
down to see a
very naked Henry Crawford sprawled across him, suckling on his bare
chest.
"Get off me!" he tried to cry, hoping someone would hear and
come to see
the matter.
"My dear Edmund," the man across him said between licks on his
erecting
nipple, "I have carried you like a babe to the western wing. No one
can hear you
scream in here, my darling. Now will you stop crying out, I'm trying
to make love
to you."
"Get off! You bastard!" he screamed, and then he mewled softly,
"Why are
you trying to humiliate me?"
Henry froze, and stared into Edmund's dark eyes. After a pause
in which
tears of shame leaked from Edmund's eyes, Henry said, "Is that what
you truly
think?"
` Edmund forced his eyes into Henry's, and they hypnotized him. "Fine,"
he
said very sternly, "Go have your pleasures, you filthy bastard dog.
And when you
masturbate to these jollies I hope you gag and fall dead."
And to his extreme suprise, Henry began to cry.
Edmund completely and utterly didn't know what to do. He couldn't
comfort
this man, but here he was, bawling like a child with it's mother lost
and gone. He
sobbed into Edmund's stomach.
"Stop it!" Edmund cried, "Stop doing this!!"
Henry looked up, his eyes red and puffy. "Please, just listen
to me. Just for
a moment. After wishing my death, you owe me that much."
Reluctantly, he nodded.
"Not two years ago my lover of three years died. He and I made
love
nearly every night for two years. I loved him more that I've loved
anyone. I loved
him more than I loved my own sister. He was my life, and I've felt
so empty since
he died. I've wanted to die myself. Mary has more than once had to
pry a knife
from my fist seconds before I pierced it into my heart. I have felt
so dead. But
you...you've stirred something inside of me that I thought I had lost
forever. I
thought my heart would never long for another man after my darling
David
passed, but every time I look at you...it's like I'm looking at him.
"Now...I realize that if I were to make love to you now...it
wouldn't be
lovemaking, it would be rape." He began to arise, and Edmund to his
personal
disgust noticed how greatly endowed. "I'll be seeing you then...Mr.
Burtram."
Piece the Third
Edmund lay in his bed, retying his trousers and thinking about
Henry.
Maybe he should simply consider his offer, say he considered it, and
move on.
The scary part was...when he felt Henry sucking the life out of his
breast...lacing
his chest with his slick tongue...he actually liked it.
It was the most bizzare thing. He grew excited as Henry was violating
him.
He had hoped Henry would continue to attempt to make love to him when
he
egged him on, and was strangely disappointed when he didn't. How was
this
justifiable?
A fantasy filled his mind of he and Henry in the billiard room.
Henry tore his
clothes off and sat him on the billiard table, shedding his own clothes.
Edmund
lifted his legs expectantly, and Henry plunged into him. He pumped
into him
violently. Edmund was screaming in ecstacy. Henry was about to come
inside
him...
CLANG!
Fanny had come through the thick steel doors, now illuminated
by the
candle light. "Edmund!" she cried, hurrying to him, "What on this earth
has
happened to you?!"
Edmund looked down to his crotch. That had been a wet fantasy
indeed.
Fanny looked down too, and suddenly looked disgusted. "Er...um...well...
now I know why you were shrieking..."
"Wait, Fanny!" Edmund called as his cousin glided huffily from
the room.
BANG!
She had slammed the door so hard some of the candles blew out.
The night was very akward for Edmund. Disturbing and filthy fantasies
continually flew in and out of his dreaming mind like birds to a nest.
More than
once he had woken with such a painful orgasm he had to force his come
out. This
was violent! This was killing him! It was too much too soon!
He shook his head. He had to find Henry.