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kinkfestTitle: Sin
Author/Artist:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
melodywilde
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Self-abuse.
Word count: 1,128
Summary: The Judge has a problem; Bamford knows the solution.
A/N: Thanks toevilmissbecky for the beta and the encouragement. (Three more betas and you get more custom pr0n!)
The Prompt: Sweeney Todd, Judge Turpin/Beadle Bamford: sin – You know I am a righteous man.
Sin
by Melody Wilde
“Excuse me, my lord.”
“Hm?” Judge Turpin turned his head at the call, fighting the urge to grimace when he saw that it was the short, somewhat revolting Beadle who had hailed him. “Bamford, is it?”
“Yes, my lord.” The man hurried to catch up with him, giving him a smile that could best be described as “oily”.
“And what may I do for you today, Mr. Bamford?” He resisted the urge to check his watch. The court session had run overlong today, and he was eager to get home to a warm fire, a bit of supper, and a good book.
“If I may be permitted to walk with you for a moment, sir, I have great hopes that it is I who can do something for you.”
Turpin raised an eyebrow and stifled a sigh, but set forth again, slowing his pace somewhat so that Bamford (who was following along like some puppy overeager to please) could keep up.
“I pray that you will forgive me for speaking so boldly, my lord, but I have admired you greatly for some time, and in the past weeks I have noticed that you seem…” He hesitated.
“Yes? Go on.”
“Not yourself. Distracted.”
Turpin shook his head irritably and snapped, “That’s rather to be expected, wouldn’t you say? I have recently lost my wife.”
“Yes, my lord, and may I offer my condolences once more. Mrs. Turpin was a beautiful and gracious—”
Turpin stopped so suddenly that Bamford almost ran into him. He turned to face the other man, making no attempt to hide his distaste. “Is there a point to this, sir?”
“Only that I believe that you are too good—too decent—a gentleman to be aware that the main cause of your problems may be…” Again he hesitated.
“What?”
“You are still a young man, and, if I may be so bold as to suggest it, you still have a young man’s…needs. And I do not believe you are allowing yourself to…have those needs met.”
Turpin closed his eyes briefly, wondering whether he should strike the man for his presumptuousness or nod acknowledgement of his perception or both. He finally took a deep breath and did neither.
“If you are quite finished, Bamford…”
“I find it a thing most admirable about you, my lord—your devotion to your dear wife’s memory and your sense of honor that prevents you from taking advantage of the offers that must come your way on a daily…perhaps hourly…basis.”
“You know I am a righteous man. A good Christian, and a man who holds a position of honor. I could no more accept…” He stopped, and his lips tightened. “I do not believe this is a subject for further discussion between us. Good day.”
He turned to go, but the man actually dared to lay a hand on his arm and hold him. “If you will forgive me…I have something that I would like to give you, if you will allow me to bring it by your house tonight.”
His temper flared. “I want no whores in my home.”
Bamford’s eyes went wide with innocence. “No sir. Simply a book. Surely you have no objections to a book.”
Anything to get the man to release him and go away. “You may bring it. Leave it with my majordomo.”
Bamford smiled and touched the brim of his hat politely. “Yes sir. Thank you sir. I hope you have a most pleasant evening, my lord.”
With a brief nod, he strode away, leaving the odious Beadle behind him.
* * *
The majordomo brought him the promised package shortly after eight, delivering it with a bow and then retreating to leave Turpin alone in his study. Despite himself, Turpin was curious as to what sort of book Bamford would recommend to him. He cut the string with his penknife and unwrapped the heavy brown paper wrapping and put them aside.
It was not a large volume, but richly bound in dark leather. He opened it to the first page, then the second, then a third, eyes going wide and breath catching in his throat as he realized the Beadle had given him a book of pornographic drawings.
He should throw it in the fire immediately. No good Christian would ever conceive of looking at something so foul, so vulgar, so…
Was it really possible for a man and woman to engage in such an act?
He found himself turning another page, then another, each more explicit, more erotic, more arousing than the one before. He shifted in his chair, realizing his trousers had suddenly become far too tight in…that area. This was unthinkable. An abomination. A disgusting piece of filth that…
He wasn’t aware that he had stood, that he had flipped the lock on the study door, that he had made sure the heavy curtains were drawn, that he had let his robe slip from his shoulders and that his hand was undoing the fastenings of his clothing to set himself free.
This was wrong. To sully sweet Margaret’s memory by…with…
The book seemed to shine at him from the place on the hearth where it had fallen when he stood, open to a drawing of a woman being mounted by one man while she took the member of a second man into her mouth. Surely no woman, decent or otherwise, would do such a thing. But the thought…the idea…the fantasy…
He fell back into his chair with a moan and wrapped his fingers around himself and, for the first time since long before his marriage, he began to move his hand up and down upon his member. This, too, was wrong. Was a sin, before God and man. Was…felt…
He came almost too quickly. Shamed and embarrassed, he wiped his hand on his robe and reached for the book, determined to destroy it and end its evil influence.
Except the next page had a drawing of a woman with three men, surely a physical impossibility. And as he examined it more closely, he found himself growing hard again, faster than he would have believed possible, for he was not that young a man.
He decided to keep the book.
* * *
When Bamford smiled and nodded at him from across the courtyard the next morning, he went out of his way to greet the Beadle cordially and thank him for his most thoughtful gift and invite him to supper that night.
* * *
And somehow, before the evening was over, when he found himself sprawled naked on the rug before the hearth with his new friend Bamford’s hands and mouth rousing him and satisfying him in ways he’d never dreamed were possible, he was not at all surprised.
Author/Artist:
melodywildeRating: PG-13
Warnings: Self-abuse.
Word count: 1,128
Summary: The Judge has a problem; Bamford knows the solution.
A/N: Thanks to
evilmissbecky for the beta and the encouragement. (Three more betas and you get more custom pr0n!)The Prompt: Sweeney Todd, Judge Turpin/Beadle Bamford: sin – You know I am a righteous man.
Sin
by Melody Wilde
“Excuse me, my lord.”
“Hm?” Judge Turpin turned his head at the call, fighting the urge to grimace when he saw that it was the short, somewhat revolting Beadle who had hailed him. “Bamford, is it?”
“Yes, my lord.” The man hurried to catch up with him, giving him a smile that could best be described as “oily”.
“And what may I do for you today, Mr. Bamford?” He resisted the urge to check his watch. The court session had run overlong today, and he was eager to get home to a warm fire, a bit of supper, and a good book.
“If I may be permitted to walk with you for a moment, sir, I have great hopes that it is I who can do something for you.”
Turpin raised an eyebrow and stifled a sigh, but set forth again, slowing his pace somewhat so that Bamford (who was following along like some puppy overeager to please) could keep up.
“I pray that you will forgive me for speaking so boldly, my lord, but I have admired you greatly for some time, and in the past weeks I have noticed that you seem…” He hesitated.
“Yes? Go on.”
“Not yourself. Distracted.”
Turpin shook his head irritably and snapped, “That’s rather to be expected, wouldn’t you say? I have recently lost my wife.”
“Yes, my lord, and may I offer my condolences once more. Mrs. Turpin was a beautiful and gracious—”
Turpin stopped so suddenly that Bamford almost ran into him. He turned to face the other man, making no attempt to hide his distaste. “Is there a point to this, sir?”
“Only that I believe that you are too good—too decent—a gentleman to be aware that the main cause of your problems may be…” Again he hesitated.
“What?”
“You are still a young man, and, if I may be so bold as to suggest it, you still have a young man’s…needs. And I do not believe you are allowing yourself to…have those needs met.”
Turpin closed his eyes briefly, wondering whether he should strike the man for his presumptuousness or nod acknowledgement of his perception or both. He finally took a deep breath and did neither.
“If you are quite finished, Bamford…”
“I find it a thing most admirable about you, my lord—your devotion to your dear wife’s memory and your sense of honor that prevents you from taking advantage of the offers that must come your way on a daily…perhaps hourly…basis.”
“You know I am a righteous man. A good Christian, and a man who holds a position of honor. I could no more accept…” He stopped, and his lips tightened. “I do not believe this is a subject for further discussion between us. Good day.”
He turned to go, but the man actually dared to lay a hand on his arm and hold him. “If you will forgive me…I have something that I would like to give you, if you will allow me to bring it by your house tonight.”
His temper flared. “I want no whores in my home.”
Bamford’s eyes went wide with innocence. “No sir. Simply a book. Surely you have no objections to a book.”
Anything to get the man to release him and go away. “You may bring it. Leave it with my majordomo.”
Bamford smiled and touched the brim of his hat politely. “Yes sir. Thank you sir. I hope you have a most pleasant evening, my lord.”
With a brief nod, he strode away, leaving the odious Beadle behind him.
* * *
The majordomo brought him the promised package shortly after eight, delivering it with a bow and then retreating to leave Turpin alone in his study. Despite himself, Turpin was curious as to what sort of book Bamford would recommend to him. He cut the string with his penknife and unwrapped the heavy brown paper wrapping and put them aside.
It was not a large volume, but richly bound in dark leather. He opened it to the first page, then the second, then a third, eyes going wide and breath catching in his throat as he realized the Beadle had given him a book of pornographic drawings.
He should throw it in the fire immediately. No good Christian would ever conceive of looking at something so foul, so vulgar, so…
Was it really possible for a man and woman to engage in such an act?
He found himself turning another page, then another, each more explicit, more erotic, more arousing than the one before. He shifted in his chair, realizing his trousers had suddenly become far too tight in…that area. This was unthinkable. An abomination. A disgusting piece of filth that…
He wasn’t aware that he had stood, that he had flipped the lock on the study door, that he had made sure the heavy curtains were drawn, that he had let his robe slip from his shoulders and that his hand was undoing the fastenings of his clothing to set himself free.
This was wrong. To sully sweet Margaret’s memory by…with…
The book seemed to shine at him from the place on the hearth where it had fallen when he stood, open to a drawing of a woman being mounted by one man while she took the member of a second man into her mouth. Surely no woman, decent or otherwise, would do such a thing. But the thought…the idea…the fantasy…
He fell back into his chair with a moan and wrapped his fingers around himself and, for the first time since long before his marriage, he began to move his hand up and down upon his member. This, too, was wrong. Was a sin, before God and man. Was…felt…
He came almost too quickly. Shamed and embarrassed, he wiped his hand on his robe and reached for the book, determined to destroy it and end its evil influence.
Except the next page had a drawing of a woman with three men, surely a physical impossibility. And as he examined it more closely, he found himself growing hard again, faster than he would have believed possible, for he was not that young a man.
He decided to keep the book.
* * *
When Bamford smiled and nodded at him from across the courtyard the next morning, he went out of his way to greet the Beadle cordially and thank him for his most thoughtful gift and invite him to supper that night.
* * *
And somehow, before the evening was over, when he found himself sprawled naked on the rug before the hearth with his new friend Bamford’s hands and mouth rousing him and satisfying him in ways he’d never dreamed were possible, he was not at all surprised.
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