A/N: Hey everyone! This is QueenCassandra!

This is my first submission to FictionPress, but I am friends with SilverIsamu and Melissa Norvell, so they are helping me through the process: Hopefully I don't look like a complete newbie. ^_^

I hope you all enjoy my story and there will be plenty more to come! Read & Review! Thanks so much!

Other suggested works:

Sin & Temptation by SilverIsamu and Melissa Norvell,

Shattered Illusions by Melissa Norvell,

Poison Ice by SilverIsamu.

INFORMATION SPACE

Title: Antiquity

By: QueenCassandra

WARNINGS: Hetero, Violence, Sexual Content/Innuendoes, Language

Please Read

Hetero- The characters are heterosexual.

Violence- Blood is a major component in the story. There are a few scenes involving explicit descriptions of violent acts.

Sexual Content/Innuendoes- This work leans more towards an older audience.

Language- Same rules apply as Sexual Content/Innuendoes.

Rating: MA

Pairings: Heterosexual

Summary: Victoria Antiquity is a young courtesan from 19th century France. After a long, violent childhood, she chose to move to America to escape her past. After a flurry of bad decisions, Victoria reached a crossroads. She made a choice that would change her life forever…

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Antiquity

By: QueenCassandra

Chapter One

“I had no choice. One of us was going to die that night, and it sure as fuck wasn’t going to be me.”

“Your method was overkill. That’s all they are going to focus on. You might as well prepare for your hanging now.”

“They won’t kill a woman, even if she is a courtesan.”

“Don’t be too sure. Kathrynne Madov was bludgeoned to death just last week.”

“Stupid bitch. She deserved it. She killed a child. I only killed a man.”

“A married man, with two young daughters!”

“He shouldn’t have been soliciting the services of a prostitute, then.”

“His sins are not up for examination. Yours are.”

Victoria Antiquity gracefully perched herself on the corner of a desk in the center of the room and went silent as she lit a cigarette. Her lawyer, Aaron Radcliffe, sat in a deep chair behind the burgundy-stained desk, only inches from Victoria’s thigh, and immersed himself in his thoughts.

“My sins are not of anyone’s concern.”

“Tell that to the judge.”

“Don’t worry so much about this. I’ll be gone in a few days.”

“What do you mean?”

Victoria paused to lean downward toward Aaron and whispered, “Like I said, don’t worry about it.” Aaron caught the sweet, warm mist of her breath on his skin as he listened.

“I’ll be gone in a few days, and this will all blow over.”

Aaron slowly stood up from his seat, and placed one hand on the desk on either side of Victoria’s body. Victoria leaned back very slowly in response to his movements. With his lips only inches from hers he whispered, “I’ll be fucked if you go anywhere. You’re staying for the trial. Plus, you provide a service to me in exchange for my fees, thereby providing more incentive for you to stay. You haven’t yet paid your bill in full.”

Victoria felt her cheeks flush and turned her head in a useless attempt to hide it. Aaron scoffed and removed his hands from the desk and straightened up to turn away from her.

“I thought whores didn’t blush.”

Victoria’s normally peach-toned skin now turned red out of anger toward the insult.

“I thought attorneys had more tact.”

“Why waste perfectly good manners on a dumb prostitute?”

Victoria removed herself from Aaron’s desk and dropped her cigarette into his fresh glass of scotch and ice as she walked toward the door.

“Good night, Mr. Radcliffe,” Victoria hissed icily.

“Good night, Miss Antiquity.”

*****

“Victoria Antiquity, sir. Pleased to meet you.”

Victoria stood on the cobblestone street wearing a crimson and gold satin dress which caused the rays of moonlight to flicker on her skin.

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Antiquity.”

An unnamed gentleman dressed in a black dinner jacket and cloak grasped Victoria’s hand gently and kissed her delicate wrist. With her free hand, she slowly lifted her honey colored hair from her cheek to reveal a set of ruby lips and emerald eyes. The gentleman raised his eyes to hers and stared deeply into her, searching for a clue…

“Shall we find a more private spot, sir?” Victoria asked seductively.

“Yes… yes, Miss.” answered the gentleman.

Victoria took the stranger’s hand and led him slowly down a brick walkway behind a bakery. As they walked, the air grew colder and the light dimmed until Victoria could barely recognize the gentleman’s features.

“Is this adequate, sir?”

The gentleman did not answer but instead pushed Victoria into the cold, stone wall and proceeded to press himself against her. His breath on her neck heated the autumn air and caused goose bumps to rise on her skin.

She breathed out once, long and slow, and watched her breath turn white in the crisp air.

The gentleman’s hands were on her hips underneath her dress. He roughly pushed the delicate lace to her knees and began to unbutton his trousers.

One more deep breath.

He didn’t look into her eyes as before; He didn’t touch her skin tenderly. He forced himself into her: violently, brutally.

She moaned from a mixture of discomfort and pleasure.

He thrusted several times and moaned loudly.

She caught a glimpse of his eyes. They were empty. Dead. Unforgiving. These were not the eyes of the gentleman she met on the cobblestoned street. These eyes held no emotion.

His thrusting became harder and more frequent. His moans louder and faster.

She felt her heart rate rise as a burst of cold air swept its way through the walkway, pinching at her bare legs, arms, and face.

The gentleman lifted her leg to place it around his hip.

It was warmer there, more comfortable on her skin.

The gentleman licked his fingers and began to pleasure her.

She realized that to this point, she had not been a very good participant. Self-correcting, she began to moan and clutch his back lightly with her nails. After a minute or two, she felt a rush. Adrenaline. She screamed loudly as the gentleman thrusted roughly. It felt incredible.

A few more thrusts and her limit had been reached. A scream erupted from her lips as she felt the burst of satisfaction envelop her body.

Almost simultaneously, the gentleman’s muscles went rigid. His limit had been reached as well. A loud moan, a gruff, and the gentleman exhaled.

His breath hit the sweat glistening on her skin and sent chills through her body.

The gentleman removed himself from her and adjusted his clothing as she did the same. He placed a hand on the small of her back and led her back up the walkway into the street. Before they reached the full moonlight, the gentleman stopped her and swiftly reached into his pocket to pull out a few paper bills. He placed them in her hand, which he grasped and kissed.

“Good night, Miss.”

“Good night, Sir.”

She watched the gentleman walk back into the moonlight. She quickly tucked the bills into her bosom before entering the moonlight herself.

*****

Victoria walked home in the cold autumn air. Her home was just outside of town, a small cottage nestled in a patch of woods. It was unusual for a young woman to live alone, however Victoria’s experiences living in brothels were less than desirable. The other women hated Victoria for her beauty, class, and intelligence, which was very difficult to find in a prostitute.

She walked along the short path to her door, ducking underneath a tree limb and stepping over a small gap in the grey stone walkway. She came upon a clearing covered in moss and dandelions. A small log cottage sat in the middle, with climbing vines reaching up to a brown and gold spun straw roof.

Victoria stepped up to the door and turned the brass handle. A familiar scent touched her nose as she walked through the doorway. “Mmm.” She immediately felt warm and comfortable. A fire crackled in a stone fireplace on a far wall. Victoria walked forward a few steps and lit a candle on a small table in the center of the room. On the same table was a small patch of cinnamon sticks and thin hand blown glass vase with various flowers poking out of the top. A gentleman had given her this as a gift several days before. He said that if she planted them, they would continue to grow back every year. Victoria accepted the gift with grace, but scoffed at the idea of planting flowers in early winter.

She walked slowly down a short hallway to her bedroom. Enveloped in darkness, Victoria searched for an old oil lamp on an oak dresser.

Thud.

Something hit the floor of the carpeted room. Victoria’s hand had finally found the oil lamp, and a single match set beside it. She lit the lamp and turned the cloth wick upwards to brighten the flame. She realized that fallen object was a fragile black and red brooch given to her by a frequent client. She delicately placed it back onto the dresser.

The flame from the lamp reflected into a large mirror on the opposite side of the room. A full bed with a soft, flowery patterned comforter sat backed up to a nearby wall. The walls were of unfinished wood. Victoria liked the natural beauty of the oak and cherry tones.

She walked over to a wooden wardrobe and slowly removed her clothing, allowing each piece to drop to the floor.

Gloves.

Shoes.

Dress.

Corset.

Slip.

Hose.

Panties.

She walked to the large mirror and pulled three pins out of her hair. She dropped them on the floor. All in one movement, she removed the final pin, turned her head swiftly to the right and let her hair fall where it may. With her fingers, she combed through the wavy honey brown hair. Pushing it all back, she straightened up and faced the mirror.

Her eyes surveyed the curves of her body and the tone of her skin. They criticized the imperfections: one breast slightly larger than the other, a small brown birthmark near her navel, patches of dry skin on her knees and elbows.

Victoria sighed.

She walked over to the oil lamp and swiftly blew out the flame.

*****