New York, October 1884

Miss Sabrina Hartley cast a mischievous glance at her friend, her eyes twinkling with a hint of playful mischief, before leaning closer to her cousin and whispering softly into her delicate ear:

"Cock."

Amanda's immediate response was a chuckle, swiftly muffled by her hand to conceal her chocolate-stained teeth. Her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, and once she had consumed her bonbon, she turned to her impish cousin with a look of affectionate reproach.

"Ah, Sabrina, you incorrigible minx! One would think you ought to have been married years ago using such an impertinent tongue! I am certain you have acquired it from those novels you so adore to peruse!"

She then directed her attention to the sole gentleman present within the gathering. "Rodney, you must divulge the identity of the enigmatic Bryant Alsher. I declare, the fellow has elevated the standards for young ladies to such lofty heights that they now appear quite unattainable!"

Mr. Rodney Scott, Sabrina's dearest friend and proprietor of a respectable publishing enterprise, was indeed privy to the identity concealed behind the pseudonym. Unbeknownst to the assembly, the true Bryant was, in fact, seated among them in the very salon at that moment.

"I must apologize, but that secret is one I intend to carry with me to the grave," he responded with a hint of playful mischief in his tone, observing Sabrina as she reached for a chocolate-covered cracker resting on a silver tray. He couldn't help but admire her steadfast composure each time the nom de plume was brought into conversation.

There were six individuals gathered in the sitting room that day: Amanda, her mother Patricia—who was also Sabrina's maternal aunt—Rodney, Alice, who was Amanda's younger sister, Sabrina, and Olivia, Amanda's dearest friend. They were seated in a wide, yet still intimate circle around a table laden with confectionery, arranged so as to accommodate Sabrina's disability.

It was no mere coincidence that the company was predominantly female, for Amanda was to be wed on the morrow. Her friends had assembled to offer their companionship and divert her thoughts before the impending nuptials.

"That author, whoever they may be, must be positively swimming in the profits from their obscene writings," Olivia remarked with clear amusement. "Have you had the chance to read their latest work, In Scoundrel's Embrace? I dare say women of all ages must be pining for their own David now."

"I cannot believe I permitted you to peruse such books," lamented Patricia, her gaze fixed upon her elder daughter.

"You did not precisely permit me, mommy," Amanda replied with a sly smile. "I borrowed it from your collection, scarcely knowing what to expect. Indeed, it was a most welcome surprise!"

Her remark elicited chuckles from the company, while Patricia scoffed. "At least you are forbidden from reading literature unsuitable for your age," she directed at the eighteen-year-old Alice.

"Mum, it may already be too late," Alice replied shyly, prompting the gathering to erupt in hearty laughter. Patricia sighed, realising that her daughters were no longer the innocent little girls she had once nursed on her breasts.

Indeed, Alice too, could now be wed at her age, though her mother fervently hoped that such an event would not come to pass anytime soon. In her personal opinion, her younger daughter still required further maturation. Nevertheless, she felt a sudden moistness gathering in her eyes, compelling her to rise and excuse herself from the company.

Alice, ever perceptive to her dear mother's distress, also excused herself and followed Patricia to offer her some consolation.

Amanda and Olivia took their leave soon after, as the bride-to-be was eager to show her dress to her dear friend. Thus, Rodney and Sabrina remained the sole occupants of the sitting room.

"Perfection! We have all these delightful treats for ourselves, Rodney. Do partake as well. Why do I sense an unusual tension in your demeanor today? It is not as though it is your own wedding," Sabrina remarked, placing another chocolate into her eager mouth. "Mmm, tastes like love."

Rodney briefly scratched his chin, hesitating as though uncertain if it was the proper time and place to broach a subject that had been plaguing him for some time. Ultimately, he moved closer to Sabrina, ensuring that their conversation remained private and no one would catch upon their words.

„Sabrina, my parents have inquired of me recently... why do we not marry? We are of the same age, and it is unlikely that I shall ever be permitted to wed the... sexus of my true preference. Furthermore, we possess a profound understanding of one another, and I assure you, I hold no prejudice against your disability or any objection towards other aspects of your person."

Noticing the astonishment in her widened eyes, he quickly added, „What I propose is an arrangement whereby you may take any gentleman as your lover, and indeed, you may have children with whomever you choose, for it matters not to me."

„And in return, we shall safeguard each other's secrets," Sabrina responded softly.

Rodney inclined his head and waited for her further response. She was on the verge of placing yet another bonbon in her mouth when he presented his audacious proposal. After a moment's reflection, she set the confection back on the tray.

"What kind of life would that be, Rodney? What if I were to fall in love with another and desire to be with him?"

He averted his gaze, unable to meet her piercing, almost black eyes. It was entirely predictable that Sabrina would examine the situation from every conceivable angle, weighing all potential outcomes before pressing the matter further.

"In the worst case, we would seek a divorce," Rodney responded, turning his attention back to her.

Sabrina scoffed and shook her head. "I cannot, in good conscience, agree to such a proposal. It is now deemed more acceptable to remain a bachelor or a spinster for life than to become a divorcee, and thus your parents must come to accept this reality we tread at present."

"But I desire heirs," Rodney retorted. "It would not vex me so if I did not wish for children, but I do long to become a father, and I care little whether those children are of my blood or not. Yet, what options are available to me, a man who harbors affection for... and lays with other men?"

He had not intended for his frustration and bitterness to surface, but his emotions overpowered his composure that day. Sabrina, understanding his plight, gently stroked his arm in consolation.

"There are indeed methods by which one might secure heirs. You could marry a widow with children, thus ensuring your fortune benefits her offspring. Alternatively, you might consider the narrative in my book, Reigning Desires, wherein the protagonist, though inclined towards men, still sought to sire heirs."

"That book is your least successful to date," he muttered.

She acknowledged this with a slight pursing of her lips. "Nevertheless, you possess numerous means to persuade a lady into marriage, whether through a mail-order arrangement or by selecting a lady of diminished means. Should traditional methods prove unavailing, perhaps due to an inability to perform in her presence, there remains the option of employing a syringe to deliver your semen into its true destination, thereby achieving your fatherhood."

Rodney sighed, though a faint smile tugged on his lips nonetheless. „What would I do without you and your wisdom? Are you certain we're not resorting to the syringe method, Sabrina?" he inquired in jest.

She chuckled softly, responding in a tone laced with amusement, „I'm quite certain, my dear. My intuition tells me that it would be indeed an unwise choice."

Little did Sabrina know, she would come to rue this decision in the days to come.

But alas, she was a woman of integrity and principles; more than her fear of remaining childless, she dreaded the prospect of never encountering true love. It would be disingenuous to claim that she hadn't ever fallen for a man, in fact, she had harboured affections and interest for various suitors in the past decade, though none of her longings materialised into a lasting union.

The objects of her deepest desires either remained indifferent to her sentiments, or worse, she swiftly discerned that rather than her virtues, her inheritance and wealth were the true temptation and allure for those men to approach her under the guise of courtship. As if it wasn't disheartening enough, a more egregious faction emerged, consisting of men who presumed that their sympathy for her disability would miraculously kindle her ardour for them, counting on her being swayed by their mercy for even considering to take her as wife.

Sabrina found herself quite cognisant of the societal expectations accompanying her age, now having reached the ripe age of one-and-thirty. It behoved her to adopt a more pragmatic stance than to indulge in flights of fancy and other sensations she often depicted in her daring literary pursuits. Yet so far every prospective gentleman of sound constitution, welfare and promising prospects, who also harboured aspirations of a harmonious union untainted by the shackles of pecuniary obsession, appeared not to be appreciative of her spirited and independent nature. And she was unwilling to settle for anything less than parity in her matrimonial bond.

Verily, she could indeed resign herself to the life of a spinster, passing her days in the abode of Patricia and her spouse, perchance witnessing Alice's nuptials in time. Sabrina would certainly not object to tending to the aged proprietors of the estate, though she possessed her own residence just down Fifth Avenue. But her house was pervaded with a silence that disconcerted her deeply, as though she could discern the spectral presence of the bygone souls who once inhabited the house.

Sabrina relished in solace and quietude that enveloped her while she pursued her writing endeavours, yet harboured a profound disdain for the stillness echoing the absence of a familial presence within the expansive confines of her vast residence. That there was no familial countenance to welcome her in its warm embrace, no gentle inquires about her days or aspirations, no offerings of tea and crackers, nor sharing the words of wisdom. Such kind of silence instilled her soul with a creeping dread, a chilling reminder of her own mortality.

She was born on American soil in 1853, the same year during which Franklin Pierce ascended to the presidency, and the Gadsden Purchase took place with the aim of facilitating the forging of a southern transcontinental railroad route. The very route represented the fortune that her family steeped in - her father becoming a baron of the rails alongside his brethren. Sabrina's uncles later found different venues for their enterprises, hence they ended up relinquishing their respective shares to her father's grasp.

Her mother was a member of the middle-class, but her ethereal beauty immortalised in numerous portraits in Sabrina's possession, allowed her to be quite selective in her pursuit of an eligible suitor. And she indeed chose well, much to her parent's contentment, yet to this day, Sabrina often pondered whether there was an ounce of love dwelling in her mother's heart for her father. Her pop, a man often given to sentimentality, could often be found in his grand study sitting at his desk, indulging in bourbon and the haze of cigarette smoke, reminiscing of his late wife.

„She was my everything," was the usual conclusion of the stories he told his daughter.

The reason behind her mother's untimely demise was pneumonia, which also beset Sabrina when she was but a year old. She considered it a grand injustice, her life being spared albeit at a grievous cost, yet her mother succumbed to the illness.

At the age of twenty, her pop ventured to inspect a structure being raised near Central Park as he too, became intrigued by the burgeoning enterprises of the time. One of them was construction which ultimately claimed his life - during his pass beneath the scaffolding, a mishap caused it to collapse due to the carelessness of the labourers, inflicting countless injuries upon him. Four days hence, he succumbed to his wounds within the confines of the local infirmary.

It took Sabrina a year to overcome her grief, a year during which she also deflected her solicitors, partners, creditors, and whomever. Only after twelve months did she find the strength to commission a thorough examination of her holdings, aiming to rectify any discrepancies. Within the next three years, she divested herself of two-thirds of her railway empire as she harboured no interest in this venture, then risked and invested one-third of the money into Rodney's printing enterprise.

The other third of her wealth was spread among the smaller enterprises and several charities she funded under the guise of the same pseudonym she used for her literary works. Sabrina had been scribbling tales since childhood, as it provided her solace and joy, particularly when she later shared her stories with her pop. Her father would set up her personal library with the aim of nurturing her passion, to which he gifted books whenever he could, causing her to develop into a voracious reader as well.

Consequently, reading and writing honed her sharp wit, allowing her to mask her inner turmoil and disability as if there was nothing wrong with her, nothing at all.

So, how does such a refined individual venture into composing risqué novels?

In Sabrina's instance, the impetus to compose such a narrative, the first among many, was ignited by a lad, scarcely sixteen at the time, who conveyed to her, being fourteen herself, subsequent to her disclosure of her predicament:

"You're impaired?! Then you cannot be friends with me; I cannot associate with those who deviate from the norm—those who aren't like myself."

Though it transpired an age ago, the recollection continued to sting well into the present; undeniably wounding her tender heart to such an extent that after the return home, she promptly seized the quill, tearfully grappling with her raw emotions as she commenced to write.

And she spun a tale of adversaries that turned paramours, breathing life into a narrative that found no footing in her reality. She thirsted for retribution, and found solace in ink, crafting an ending of eternal bliss. Despite her acquaintance with the intimate intricacies of life beyond the simplistic lessons of flora and fauna, her tale remained chaste.

Only after the passage of years did her comrade, Rodney Scott, challenge her to explore a covert establishment, masquerading as an exclusive club, which unveiled itself as a clandestine brothel for the elite. Veiled behind masks, all attendees, Sabrina and Rodney among them, delved into a realm previously unseen to her gaze. Here, conversations on matters of sex and sensuality flowed with ease, unshackled from societal constraints. Moreover, for a modest fee, Sabrina could occupy a chair, notebook in hand, and transcribe the events unfolding behind closed doors, visible through a discreet aperture in the wall.

Rodney's interest was piqued upon glimpsing her journal. Discovering Sabrina's fondness for writing, he inquired to peruse her works with a discerning eye. Impressed, he recognised their merit swiftly, aiding her to craft the alter ego of Bryant Alsher to commence Sabrina's literary career. She penned six volumes to date, four of which soared to the heights of popularity.

Sabrina found her life both satisfying and tinged with melancholy, longing for the comfort of a sturdy arm and the passion of companionship. Or as she would pen it within her novel - she would appreciate a manly arm to lean to and a cock to ride on.

Seeing Amanda, a maiden full five years her junior readying herself for the sacred ceremony of wedlock, rekindled a longing within Sabrina's heart. Perhaps it was time for her to entertain the notion of stepping into the next room herself, and allow a man to fulfil their mutual desires by claiming her untouched body and strip her of its purity that held little value to her.

First and foremost, she needed to gather her thoughts and consider the bold plan carefully. She was quite discerning in her decisions - a gentleman could either fulfil her dreams or turn them into nightmares, and she was determined not to rue her choice.

Little was she aware of the unexpected twist that lay ahead, one that would disrupt some of her future intentions.