Stripping A Hero - Jade's Contribution to RomCon
Today, Jade is at Romcon, offering her humble assistance in a variety of workshops. The important one right now is the fabulous: Stripping a Hero class wherein Jade wrote a scene specifically for use. For those who cannot be there in person, she offers her humble excerpt for their reading pleasure. Ladies and Gentleman, please allow me to introduce today’s hero: Brooks.
Once upon a time there was a very handsome young man named Brooks. He was a good man, never kicked puppies, rescued kittens from trees, and enjoyed a good game of whist every now and then. He managed his money well, or at least he hired a very good steward, and he made sure to study Aristotle when in school and sheep husbandry when he was not. It was a sadness that his title came to him young as his parents died of that all too common vague carriage accident. And it was even more sad that he inherited the dark and forbidding title of Earl of Darkblackness who lived in a castle known as Ravenswolfbane.
He passed his obligatory time as a spy for the Home Office earning a discrete yet very sexy scar along his jawbone and the ability to seduce a foreign spy at 1000 paces. He also spent his holidays working honorably for the East India Company and is now a boob...er, I meant naboob.
Fabulously wealthy and the inventor of three new cravat knots (intricitious messiness, merde!, and Bosoms of Venus), Brooks has been sadly forced to find a wife by his grandfather’s inexplicable will that demands he produce an heir or wear short pants for the rest of his life. Understandably, his loyal valet and former batman, Violet, is horrified and threatens to quit. Faced with the terrifying prospect of having to tie his own cravats, Brooks has decided to find a wife.
He has chosen for his bride, the nearly on-the-shelf wallflower Miss Petunia Abercrombie-Smythe-Barnes-Fitch. (In the sequel, two of her relatives will marry one another, move to America and start a teen clothing store with hot looking cover models. But I digress). Brooks has picked Miss Petunia for her for her beauty. In particular, the lusciousness of her bosom, the breedability of her hips, and the high arch in her foot. He has a thing for foot arches. He has the horrible suspicion that she may be literate as everyone else calls her a bluestocking, but as her stockings today are a lovely white, he feels safe. Besides, he secretly likes smart women, but he has this whole personna of being ridiculous (it’s his cover for the Home Office) so he must perforce maintain it.
The courtship has been proceeding apace–with him writing terrible sonnets to her eyelashes and throwing bouquets of posies at her maid in the hopes that the woman will stop ducking, catch one, read the attached note even though she’s illiterate, and give it to her mistress. It is a difficult plan, but you see, Brooks has a FATAL FLAW. Though he is handsome, rich, smart, a spy, and a great whist player, he cannot manage to speak well to the English woman he would have as his wife. Brooks is a man of action, you see, not a man of words. So when at the Season’s last ball, he saw her necklace slip from her beautiful neck into a pool of icy water, he knew God had given him just the opportunity he required for brave action.
If he could only retrieve the necklace despite grave risk to his person, he could at last show her his devotion. Because, after all, being willing to dive fully clothed into an icy pool is just the kind of feat that would prove he is good husband and father material. Right?
Of course he’s right! So without further thought, Brooks dove fully clothed into the pool. Chills grip him from his manly toes all the way up through his long and handsome spine. But he must not fail! Gasping and sputtering, he managed to clasp the golden necklace in his hands and kick his way up to dry land. SUCCESS! Now he need only present his prize to his lady fair.
He stumbled through the ballroom, unaware that the icy water has frozen his brain, slicked his hair back in a very handsome manner, and shrunken his important bits to next to nothing. Fortunately, Brooks is well liked by any number of matchmaking mamas. They don’t like that his important bits have shrunken up, but know a sure cure! They will strip him of his freezing wet clothing, then shove their daughters in his way in the hopes that he proposes to them in his brain-numbed state.
First to be stripped from his dripping wet, manly shoulders was his frock coat. Brooks helped with that as the lady undressing him was both beautiful and a former lover. Sadly, she was also married, so he could not dally with her. He might have lingered for a kiss, just for old time’s sake, but another lovely miss caught his attention–and his ascot–to gently pull it from his neck.
Brooks appreciated the help because honestly, who wanted a tied thing around his neck? Sadly, this beautiful lady was engaged to the wickedly rich, handsome, and very jealous hero of the last book. Therefore, he pressed a kiss into the lady’s hand and moved on.
Next to be removed was his vest. He liked this vest as it helped to keep his shirt inside his pants, but the lady assisting him this time reminded him that a wet vest was akin to a wet blanket which was, as we all know, no fun at all. Together, they divested him of his vest and he thanked her with a courtly bow. But also, she was so stunningly beautiful, she had to be Spanish and a spy. Therefore, he turned her over to his batman Violet for interrogation at the Home Office, and then went on to find his lady love.
His shirt came off next. It was a fine lawn shirt, as all hero’s shirts are, but as it was time for his manly chest to be revealed, more than one lady assisted in his disrobing. Cuff links, you know, were worn by everyone. Buttons were for those who could not afford such handsome jewelry. As you can see here, Brooks is in his impoverished persona because of the buttons. Sad, but true. Sometimes, he just had to sacrifice manly attire for his work as a spy. Besides, the sheep tended to eat cuff links, and that was just bad form.
And now, finally, our hero made it up to his lady love. He collapsed at her feet, trying to kiss them, because if you recall, he does adore her feet. Petunia was understandably shocked by his appearance, but also horribly impressed. Because, after all, his chest is quite manly.
“My lady,” he cries, as he holds up her necklace. “I... Um... Uh...”
Oh dear. Poor Brooks had lost his ability to speak. In desperation, he turned to the roomful of people who were watching his grand gesture. “Help me!” he cries. “What should I say?”
[Audience offers suggestions which Brooks tries. Until, in the end, someone gets it right.]
Miss Petunia was overcome with lust that magically turns to love. “Oh yes!” she cries. “I will marry you! But first we must make sure this is not a SWEET regency. Come, my love, let us finish getting you out of your very wet clothing. Perhaps some careful attention will reverse the terrible shrinkage damage.”
Then, hand in hand, they went off together. And, I am happy to report, that yes indeed, shrinkage was never a problem again.
Once upon a time there was a very handsome young man named Brooks. He was a good man, never kicked puppies, rescued kittens from trees, and enjoyed a good game of whist every now and then. He managed his money well, or at least he hired a very good steward, and he made sure to study Aristotle when in school and sheep husbandry when he was not. It was a sadness that his title came to him young as his parents died of that all too common vague carriage accident. And it was even more sad that he inherited the dark and forbidding title of Earl of Darkblackness who lived in a castle known as Ravenswolfbane.
He passed his obligatory time as a spy for the Home Office earning a discrete yet very sexy scar along his jawbone and the ability to seduce a foreign spy at 1000 paces. He also spent his holidays working honorably for the East India Company and is now a boob...er, I meant naboob.
Fabulously wealthy and the inventor of three new cravat knots (intricitious messiness, merde!, and Bosoms of Venus), Brooks has been sadly forced to find a wife by his grandfather’s inexplicable will that demands he produce an heir or wear short pants for the rest of his life. Understandably, his loyal valet and former batman, Violet, is horrified and threatens to quit. Faced with the terrifying prospect of having to tie his own cravats, Brooks has decided to find a wife.
He has chosen for his bride, the nearly on-the-shelf wallflower Miss Petunia Abercrombie-Smythe-Barnes-Fitch. (In the sequel, two of her relatives will marry one another, move to America and start a teen clothing store with hot looking cover models. But I digress). Brooks has picked Miss Petunia for her for her beauty. In particular, the lusciousness of her bosom, the breedability of her hips, and the high arch in her foot. He has a thing for foot arches. He has the horrible suspicion that she may be literate as everyone else calls her a bluestocking, but as her stockings today are a lovely white, he feels safe. Besides, he secretly likes smart women, but he has this whole personna of being ridiculous (it’s his cover for the Home Office) so he must perforce maintain it.
The courtship has been proceeding apace–with him writing terrible sonnets to her eyelashes and throwing bouquets of posies at her maid in the hopes that the woman will stop ducking, catch one, read the attached note even though she’s illiterate, and give it to her mistress. It is a difficult plan, but you see, Brooks has a FATAL FLAW. Though he is handsome, rich, smart, a spy, and a great whist player, he cannot manage to speak well to the English woman he would have as his wife. Brooks is a man of action, you see, not a man of words. So when at the Season’s last ball, he saw her necklace slip from her beautiful neck into a pool of icy water, he knew God had given him just the opportunity he required for brave action.
If he could only retrieve the necklace despite grave risk to his person, he could at last show her his devotion. Because, after all, being willing to dive fully clothed into an icy pool is just the kind of feat that would prove he is good husband and father material. Right?
Of course he’s right! So without further thought, Brooks dove fully clothed into the pool. Chills grip him from his manly toes all the way up through his long and handsome spine. But he must not fail! Gasping and sputtering, he managed to clasp the golden necklace in his hands and kick his way up to dry land. SUCCESS! Now he need only present his prize to his lady fair.
He stumbled through the ballroom, unaware that the icy water has frozen his brain, slicked his hair back in a very handsome manner, and shrunken his important bits to next to nothing. Fortunately, Brooks is well liked by any number of matchmaking mamas. They don’t like that his important bits have shrunken up, but know a sure cure! They will strip him of his freezing wet clothing, then shove their daughters in his way in the hopes that he proposes to them in his brain-numbed state.
First to be stripped from his dripping wet, manly shoulders was his frock coat. Brooks helped with that as the lady undressing him was both beautiful and a former lover. Sadly, she was also married, so he could not dally with her. He might have lingered for a kiss, just for old time’s sake, but another lovely miss caught his attention–and his ascot–to gently pull it from his neck.
Brooks appreciated the help because honestly, who wanted a tied thing around his neck? Sadly, this beautiful lady was engaged to the wickedly rich, handsome, and very jealous hero of the last book. Therefore, he pressed a kiss into the lady’s hand and moved on.
Next to be removed was his vest. He liked this vest as it helped to keep his shirt inside his pants, but the lady assisting him this time reminded him that a wet vest was akin to a wet blanket which was, as we all know, no fun at all. Together, they divested him of his vest and he thanked her with a courtly bow. But also, she was so stunningly beautiful, she had to be Spanish and a spy. Therefore, he turned her over to his batman Violet for interrogation at the Home Office, and then went on to find his lady love.
His shirt came off next. It was a fine lawn shirt, as all hero’s shirts are, but as it was time for his manly chest to be revealed, more than one lady assisted in his disrobing. Cuff links, you know, were worn by everyone. Buttons were for those who could not afford such handsome jewelry. As you can see here, Brooks is in his impoverished persona because of the buttons. Sad, but true. Sometimes, he just had to sacrifice manly attire for his work as a spy. Besides, the sheep tended to eat cuff links, and that was just bad form.
And now, finally, our hero made it up to his lady love. He collapsed at her feet, trying to kiss them, because if you recall, he does adore her feet. Petunia was understandably shocked by his appearance, but also horribly impressed. Because, after all, his chest is quite manly.
“My lady,” he cries, as he holds up her necklace. “I... Um... Uh...”
Oh dear. Poor Brooks had lost his ability to speak. In desperation, he turned to the roomful of people who were watching his grand gesture. “Help me!” he cries. “What should I say?”
[Audience offers suggestions which Brooks tries. Until, in the end, someone gets it right.]
Miss Petunia was overcome with lust that magically turns to love. “Oh yes!” she cries. “I will marry you! But first we must make sure this is not a SWEET regency. Come, my love, let us finish getting you out of your very wet clothing. Perhaps some careful attention will reverse the terrible shrinkage damage.”
Then, hand in hand, they went off together. And, I am happy to report, that yes indeed, shrinkage was never a problem again.
posted by Jade Lee | 8:14 AM
3 Comments:
"Lady, your bosoms are naked without this neckpiece! Allow me to cover them!"
Petunia: "O sorry day! My naked bosoms thank you."
LOL. Love it!
Only recently I've learned about you, and came to follow your blog. Best wishes from Canada.
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