He had remained a bachelor, blaming the rigours of his working life which had often seen him travel to the corners of the British empire on business as the reason for not taking a wife, in response to those who cared to ask. The real reason for Henry Trent remaining single at nearly 50 - he being a more than reasonably well off Victorian gentleman, fit and attractive to female suitors - was his awe of women, and a certain urge he had for those among their number, which would not be viewed as acceptable in the very proper Victorian society he lived within. He had tried several relationships with humbler females, but they had inevitably petered out due to the lack of the passion he desired.
As he sat by the window in the plush drawing room of the substantial London property he shared with two other business associates, his cock swelled as watched the approach of the household cook, her broad and womanly figure striding with elegant feminine posture across the busy street, a male doffing his hat to her with smiling admiration but receiving no recognition from her. Hilda Sharpe was just the sort of woman that appealed to him; full figured with auburn hair in a severe bun, middle aged and confident, she had a presence which kept the other maids in obedient order when she was in proximity, and her curt interaction in dealing with tradesmen and the like, made it quite clear she would be ruled by no man. Trent was sure she was dominant sexually and lusted for every glimpse of her.
As a mere cook, he could never be seen to openly reveal any desire for her, though he yearned to be on his knees to the stern woman. Hilda was patently aware of his veiled attraction to her, and his supposition with respect to her sexual nature was not unfounded. She would find him inexplicably in the lower levels of the house all too often, finding occasion to address her with some trivial matter; his stance and verbal repertoire was always as per master to servant, delivered with pompous authority, but his eyes betrayed something unmistakable which aroused Hilda. She was indeed dominant sexually, and knew he was a submissive.
His reluctance to open up and admit his attraction irked her, knowing that her status in the established society pecking order was way below his, but in reality and within the covert society of women which she frequented in her free time, his status would be way below hers. His continued adherence to formally belittle her when it was patently obvious that he wanted to be on his knees before her, came across as a form of cowardice in her eyes, making her develope a keen spite for him. His unattached bachelor lifestyle and the regular absences of both he and his co-owning business associates from the residence meant that he would not be missed should he disappear for a period of time; she determined to have him face the truth and realise his place below a strong woman. She set about planning his submission.
Hilda knew he would have seen her approach from the drawing room window, and took her time removing her gloves in the hall. She smirked to herself as she heard him cautiously descend the stairs. Even though he were master in his own house, he faltered slightly as he saw the confident cook staring impassionately at him as he came down. She enjoyed his usual awkwardness as he searched for an impromptu reason to address her, while his eyes tried hard not to leer at her curves in the tightly corseted black dress. In a moment of boldness, she cut him short as he opened his mouth.
'If it may be allowed sir, I have a lady coming to visit me here this evening from a group I am a member of. She is most taken with a recipe of mine for sweets, and is keen to see my preparation. I trust my taking the liberty of inviting her to your home without your prior permission will not meet with your disapproval.' He was delighted to be held in a conversation with her, and the tone of her voice which firmly told him of her decision rather than actually asking his permission, excited him. The thought that a female friend of Hilda's may well be of a similar character excited him all the more, though he felt he should try to feign a least a little indignance in his response.
'Well Miss Sharpe, as you've invited a lady, it would be churlish of me to disapprove, despite my not being consulted... Is she... err, local?' Hilda maintained her impassionate air, though her cunt tingled as she prepared to add incentive to the trap she hoped he'd be lured into.
'Why yes Sir. She has a house near Bond Street, not dissimilar to this one. Our group meets there on occasion; we are women from all walks of life... no social barriers exist between us.' Her haughty tone made her all the more appealing, and the impudence in her reference to social barriers which he knew came conveniently as an indirect thrust at her situation with him, had his balls tingling. The sound of her feminine group sparked his imagination, and what he imagined would prove to be correct. Hilda knew that a woman of his own social standing would squeeze the truth from him, and stood firm, staring into his eyes to provoke further questions, feeling in control of him. His cock was swelling as he felt her commanding presence, and defended himself by attempting to revert to a little pomposity.
'Does the Master of the house have... have an opinion on the meetings held there?' Hilda almost smiled as he faltered, her arousal growing on his asking the perfect question.
'Sir, there is no Master. She is Mistress of her household, and though she has male suitors, intends to remain as such. Now if you will excuse me Sir, I have dinner to prepare.' She gave him a look which was almost contemptuous as she strutted past, knowing the last information would have him more than excited. His cock was now nicely erect as his eyes fixed on her bustling arse as she strode to the basement stairs, his mind full of intrigue at the woman to visit, and the deliciously confident way the redheaded cook had somehow made him feel inferior. She smiled to herself, then adjusted to face him, stopping before descending.
'Her name is Madam Edith Grange, she will be here at 7:30, I am sure she will be most pleased to make your acquaintance.' She descended the stairs without waiting for further response from Trent, who though her Master in this house, in her eyes was just another male who was in need of being shown his true position amongst women. Her cunt bulged with the pleasure of knowing he would soon be purged of his guarded pomposity.
Trent waited to hear the click of the door as she entered her room, then descended one flight to the landing where stood the laundry basket. With heart pounding he fished for underwear. Hilda watched unseen through the crack of her door which she had silently opened, accustomed to his lewd habit. She watched with satisfaction as he pulled the generously soiled underwear she had placed near the top from it. Oh how she wanted to confront him and have him know the cane. She rubbed her cunt as she thought on how he'd pay soon enough. He repaired immediately to his bedroom, stripped and knelt on the floor, then masturbated hard with the vision of the haughty cook fresh in his mind as he sniffed at the heavenly spice of the underwear. He groaned in ecstasy as he shot his hot tribute, imagining her standing over him, with a woman as yet unknown. His ecstasy would soon be detracted from Hilda, if only temporarily, as the unknown woman took complete control of his life.
He watched eagerly from the window as the cab drew up, and was not disappointed as the mature and elegant Madam Edith Grange stepped down from it. A tall, full figured brunette, dressed imperiously in a dark purple dress trimmed with black lace, his cock swelled as he thought of Hilda's words 'Mistress of the house.' He watched her fine figure ascend the steps as he adjusted his collar, then descended the stairs as the maid heeded the doorbell. He stood behind the maid as she opened it and heard the confident tone of a truly independent woman for the first time.
'Madam Edith Grange... I am here to see Miss Hilda Sharpe.' The maid blushed a little as she felt the presence of one of the Masters of the house behind her, then dropped her head slightly on noting the dominant cook approach from below the stairs. Edith strode in, careful to avoid looking directly at the male who was already awestruck by her almost regal presence, instead smiling at Hilda, whose face wore a rare smile of genuine satisfaction, greeting her with her elegantly gloved hands. She then lifted her nose and glanced at Trent, more than pleased to see that Hilda's description of him had not been gilded; he would make a handsome pet. He stumbled to make himself known, unaware that he she knew all about him, and that he was the sole purpose of her visit.
'I...' She delighted in cutting him short, a studied look of contempt putting him firmly in his place.
'You must be Mr Henry Trent. I trust you will allow me some time when Miss Sharpe and I have concluded our business.' He was of course enthralled with her request, which was delivered as a demand rather than a question. He swallowed hard as the two women did not wait on an unnecessary response, and strode toward the lower stairs, Hilda not even having acknowledged his presence.
'Yes... Please, Madam Grange, I shall be in the drawing room.' The maid blushed further and tried to disguise her smile on seeing the weakness of her Master, he was already under the command of a superior woman, who appeared to pay no attention to his utterings. He watched the two delectably feminine shapes descend the stairs, then ascended to the drawing room for a brandy.
Hilda and Edith simply sat in her room, consuming a brandy themselves and smoking cigarettes. Edith was more than pleased.
'We'll let him stew for an hour or so, then I'll take him to the Palace.' Hilda gaped open mouthed.
'Tonight?' Edith tipped the brandy glass into her mouth and grinned wickedly.
'Oh yes, he is everything you describe; I'll secure him and take him there before he recovers from the shock of the admission he'll confess to me, as you know, the Palace never sleeps. You shall not see him again till he is enslaved at my house, cleansed of the pomposity he has shown you. I take it you will accept my offer to join me there?' Hilda smiled contentedly as she crossed her legs and glanced about the neat but tiny room afforded her there.
'But of course, how could I not? The freedom to discipline males brought there for the society has shown me the way forward. I'll write my notice immediately, though there'll be no Master here to sign it. I shall look forward to rewarding the present one for his shortcomings.'
Trent paced about the drawing room as the clock ticked by, then sat in his favourite chair and rubbed his cock through his trousers. he was anxious to have the limited and short conversation he believed he'd have with the woman, who had excited him with the way she had made him feel so insignificant, then masturbate again when she left. He broke into a cold sweat as the tap came at the door and the pert maid smiled curtly as she offered the supreme woman into the room, and left with a grin. Edith smiled as she saw him rise from the chair, and her eyes then went directly to the decanter and glasses on the side.
'Yes, I'll have a brandy thank you.' Trent gasped at her immediate commanding manner, and fumbled with the glass, spilling a little as he poured it, only to be further astonished as she strode to the chair he had been seated in, and sat, lifting her chin with a look of cold determination that was reminiscent of that which a governess he had as a boy had given him when about to be disciplined. He handed her the glass which she received without offering any acknowledgment of thanks, simply pointing to the smaller chair opposite. As he turned to sit, Edith pulled her skirt up to expose her calves clad in black boots laced high. He gasped audibly as he sat and stared at her footwear, his cock erecting immediately, making him squirm a little in an effort to conceal the bulge at his crotch. Edith simply cut to the chase.
