#turpin

In the eyes of Victorian London, Lord Turpin and you, Lady Turpin, were amongst London’s most unusual couples. Your relationship came not long after Richard lost his ward, Beadle, and nearly his life after a brush with Benjamin Barker, a lowly barber he sent away on false charges who miraculously, found his way back even after being sent to Australia to serve out a life sentence of harsh manual labor. Richard emerged from the events, not as the man London had once trusted implicitly, but as a man teetering on the edge of mania, grasping at what little fragments of sanity he had left. Returning to the bench a mere three weeks after his attempted assassination, the subjects of London couldn’t help but notice a change in their infallible judge. Almost every circle in London was whispering about the shift in the judge’s demeanor and it didn’t take long for the doubt of his competency to reach his ears causing his already harsh sentences to become even crueler and unpredictable, casting a further darkening shadow over his once-certain judgment.

 Most people expected everything to return to normal once the judge’s attacker had been brought to justice, after all, as a judge of the high court in service to her Majesty the Queen, he reserved the right to convict and sentence whoever dared to cross him, or the law. He was by definition, untouchable… Yet in the case of Sweeney Todd’s attempt on his life, it seemed that Lady Justice had already dealt her hand, taking Todd for herself, depriving the judge of the cruel justice he so desperately desired to feel in control. Spiraling further into a dark path of retribution that bordered on obsessive, Richard was a mere shell of the proud man he once was, seemingly falling further into the clutches of insanity with every passing day.

After being compelled to step back from the bench due to mounting public concern for his mental health and well-being, he was granted a month to rest and recover. One whole month—a dangerous opportunity to ruminate on his unexamined consciousness that Richard was not eager to take. By no means had Richard attempted to fix his wrongdoings, he was a bad man, an unjust, and cruel man who wielded the law as a weapon of his desires. He was a sinner, a liar, and a reprobate. He attended church only to enjoy the company of a whore the very next hour, he knew his life was one big contradiction. And still, he clung to the illusion that as a judge, he stood above the law and public opinion, he was a judge who answered to no one but himself, believing his actions bore no consequence beyond his own scrutiny.

 In the wake of Richard’s recovery from the attempt that nearly claimed his life, your relationship, and subsequent marriage, seemed to unfold at lightning speed. The fact that Richard had forsaken many a beautiful, and no doubt rich, highborn lady for you, irked the British aristocracy who were all throwing their daughters at the judge to have even a chance of marrying into the esteemed house of Turpin. It would’ve been one thing if you two were young lovers but your scandalized affair only grew more scandalous as people started to frequently draw attention to the fact that you had, practically, in the eyes of the public, not existed at all, prior to your engagement. 

The last woman Richard had shown any interest in was Lucy Barker, but even then, it was public knowledge he merely lusted after her, his longing for her was based not on feelings of love but ones of conquest and control, seeing her as a prize to be won. But his feelings for you seemed to stem from an unknown source… one that was less centered around himself and his personal motives.

In a society that prized status and reputation above all, Richard’s marriage to you, someone deemed “lowly” in the public’s eye, sent shockwaves through the cobbled streets of London. Unshaken by the public’s doubt of his choice of wife, Richard managed to pull out all the stops for your wedding, wasting no expense on the extravagant affair, with nearly every citizen near and far from London clamoring to attend the wedding. As guests observed the warmth in his gaze, they began to piece together a narrative that suggested genuine love that transcended societal boundaries. It wasn’t long before the public, hungry for scandal, sought to uncover the mysterious story behind your unusual romance.

The story given to the public was that you were one of the nursemaids who had so gracefully nursed him to back him to health, lovingly tending to him and eventually falling in love with him. While that story couldn’t be further from the truth, every tall tale had some grain of truth to it, certainly no nursemaid, granted, you did tend to him, in a much more… intimate way than originally specified, you two were indeed a rare occurrence of genuine love. Initially, you were just a contract—an arrangement for the night, a whore, to put it crudely. Once you, rather, he finished, you had noticed him wincing in pain along with the stiff movements of his neck, originally wary of the notoriously foul-tempered judge, you, strangely enough, found yourself hesitating to leave. Despite being expected to leave as soon as you two were finished, you couldn’t just leave him to suffer like that. This man, one who commanded London’s High Court with an iron fist now laid bedridden, his physical wounds matched only by a wounded pride. His growls and biting remarks about you staying to offer him help sounded more like thinly veiled pleas for help, revealing a side of the judge that he himself even resented, one that was weak. 

Not even half a year later you were the highly feared and equally esteemed, Lady Turpin. While the fear came from your husband’s reputation, you yourself were quite the opposite of him. Instead of intimidating people to get your way, you often made use of your snarky wit and cleverness, a trait that Richard himself found endearing and discovered proved far more useful from time to time when intimidation wasn’t a viable option. 

Seated at his bench, high above the court giving him the illusion of an almost godly appearance, Richard sat, tall and rigid. Dressed in his black robes, the long wig he wore—an obligation of his station—itchingly reminded him of the traditions he had little patience for. Leering at the people entering his courtroom he huffed uninterestedly. While his wife had managed to salvage his sanity and coax a flicker of gentleness from him, she could not penetrate the fortress he built around himself in public. Fixing his posture, he moved only to accidentally bump something underneath his bench with his knee, seeing you, his wife there, he glared at you kneeling between his legs. Smirking up at him with a lustful haze in your eyes, you placed your hands on his knees slowly parting them as you winked at him. 

Grumbling, he snarled at you without any real venom behind his words, “What the devil are you doing?”

Currently sat in front of a fully occupied court he had to preside over, you clearly had no sense of decorum when it came to respecting the authority that Richard had, slowly parting his robe at his waist, you placed your hands over his pants, palming his already growing erection. The ruthless judge, so quick to condemn others, quite literally, was nothing more than putty in your mere presence.

“Taking care of my husband, of course, you must be so stressed, huh? All those responsibilities… my dear judge, my poor, poor judge,” you purred softly, your fingers tracing languid circles on his thighs. The heat emanating from his arousal was unmistakable and he was clearly getting impatient but you ignored him for the time being keeping the tension high.

Growling lowly, he narrowed his eyes at you grabbing your hand and placing it on his clothed cock, “Do not play games you little minx, if you want to act like this then carry through with your teasing,” he demanded gruffly.

“Oh, my…” you gasped, feigning shock, “right now? Dare you disrespect the sanctity of this here court?” God you were such a tease, how was he ever expected to behave around you when you acted like this? So clearly reveling in your role as an unrelenting tease… if he was in hell, you were most certainly the demon sent to torture him till the end of his days.

Snarling at you, Richard tangled one of his hands in your hair, a firm grip that asserted control without causing discomfort. “Careful now, love. Keep with that insolent tongue of yours and I'll put it to far better use," he growled with an arch of his perfectly manicured eyebrow, his threat laced with a hint of desire.

Laughing lowly, you slowly dragged your fingers up his inner thighs before reaching his zipper and freeing him from the confines of his awfully tight trousers. Already rock hard, his cock was thicker than your wrist and his tip was an angry red color with a small bead of precum leaking from it, a testament to his undying lust for you. “So impatient and rude… you’re supposed to be a Lord, my love, one with manners who treats ladies with respect,” you chided dramatically not caring to whisper considering the courtroom was still settling in.

“Last time I checked ladies don’t terrorize their husbands multiple times a day for sex,” he grumbled letting out a low sigh of relief, feeling the pressure lessen on his aching cock. Eyeing you, he huffed in amusement as a smirk played at his lips, watching you blink up at him innocently. A little actress you were, one who was anything but what she pretended to be.

Grabbing his cock, you slowly stroked it, watching as his face contorted in pleasure, not explicitly as he was still seated in front of a room full of people, but enough for you to get the satisfaction of seeing him unravel slightly. Exhaling a long drawn out strained sigh, he spoke gruffly, evidently, trying to have some restraint. “What a naughty little thing you are, playing with your husband's cock so brazenly in a courtroom full of people…” 

 Running your thumb over the tip of his cock, you heard his breathing hitch and felt him cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb over it lovingly. Letting out a small whimper, he felt you take him into your mouth and swirl your hot tongue around the edge of his tip, tasting his salty precum on your tongue, savoring its slight musky taste. “Yes, mhm… just like that my love…” he hissed, his grip on your hair growing tighter as he pushed you down further onto his cock, forcing you to take him deeper.

Letting out a strangled squeak, you glared up at him with a mouthful of his cock as tears pricked your eyes. “Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” he teased slowly bobbing you up and down his girthy shaft.

 Hearing the thunderous boom of the courthouse doors opening, Richard glanced up to see the defendant being ushered into the courthouse by a guard from the jail. He barely glanced at the list of accusations before re-establishing his cold, detached expression. As if he wasn’t being serviced by his wife at that very moment.

Richard raised his eyes and immediately the court fell silent, making the usage of his gavel redundant. He struck it lightly for the sake of formality before he cleared his throat, resting his hand atop your head to signal you to stop your ministrations. “You are being charged with petty larceny and the garrotting of several women, what say you in defense of these charges?” he said, his booming voice reverberating through the courtroom, fixing a cold glare at the defendant. How dare he ignore you! Use you for his pleasure and tell you to stop at his own convenience? God, he was way too privileged!

Glaring at him, as you kneeled on the floor, your eyes flashed with anger and defiance, Richard, ever so oblivious didn’t seem to notice the anger radiating from beneath him. Ignoring his wishes for you to halt your movements, you started to bob up and down again, swirling your tongue around his shaft just the way you knew he liked it, feeling him throb against your tongue, you glanced up at him cheekily as he glowered at you. Consequences be damned, you were no convenience, and you certainly weren’t controlled by him!

Barely stifling a moan, Richard’s thighs tensed as he fought to keep his composure. Watching the defendant bow his head in defeat, he heard him profess his guilt, “I plead guilty and ask you for your mercy, your honor.” If he didn’t have a little minx between his legs he’d sneer at the fool in front of him for even thinking he’d be merciful. 

Feeling you take him deeper, he watched as your hand reached up to wrap around the base of his shaft to pump what you couldn't fit in your mouth, with his breathing growing ragged, he only hoped that nobody could see his very obviously flustered state. His grip on your hair only grew tighter as he tensed further, his muscles pulled taut as he felt his orgasm approach rapidly.

Realizing the entire courtroom was awaiting his verdict, he coughed, trying to cover up any of the obvious hints of his arousal, “The jury will deliberate and your fate will be announced at a later court date, this court is adjourned.” He said banging his gavel before watching everyone file out of the courthouse in confusion. 

The Esteemed Juge Turpin, widely revered and equally feared, had rarely relied on a jury—his rulings were law, laws he often wrote without deliberation. Murmurs filled the courtroom as the gallery began to question whether or not even Richard was second-guessing himself. The reason behind his stalling was, in truth, much simpler than what they suspected. Richard was merely just a pawn in his wife’s new uptaking of mischief and suffering the consequences.

After everyone filed out and left, Richard’s head fell back against his chair as you continued to suck him off. “You are so dead-” he groaned, not even able to finish his snarky comment as he felt his cock throb with his impending orgasm. With a strangled gasp and a deep guttural groan, Richard’s hips bucked into you as he came hard, his seed spilling down your throat in thick, hot, spurts that even you struggled to keep up with. After his orgasm subsided, you released his cock with a wet pop, the sound reverberating through the empty courtroom.

Slumping back against his chair, you watched with a satisfied smile as he struggled to catch his breath, his chest heaving. Tucking him back into his pants, you heard him hiss, his cock was incredibly oversensitive after that mindblowing orgasm no doubt. Standing up, you dusted off your dress, looking at him with a wicked smirk, “Hmph, what was that love?” 

Sneering at you with half-lidded eyes, Richard huffed, unable to punish you for the time being, “Your arse is going to be so red when I get my hands on you,” he rasped out, watching you saunter away. He was so going to get you back tenfold, despite his mostly playful annoyance, deep down, he couldn’t deny the obvious satisfaction he got from surrendering his control to you…