Lady Mudford had welcomed home her husband from his long absence in Africa as any dutiful wife would. Never mind that his potbelly was grosser than ever. The year's added age had also served to prolong his pounding her away in bed. But eventually he did manage to implant his seed yet one more time. That was as much a duty for him as it was for her.
"Sorry, dear."
"I understand Harrold. There's no need to apologize. We are both aging at the same rate, you know."
"I do hope you were able to enjoy yourself and your little fetish in my absence."
"Rest assured, dear. I kept the cane hard at work."
"That's nice. Servants should continually be reminded of their place."
"Alfred was of big help in that department."
"Alfred?"
"The chauffer, you know. Oh I guess you don't know. I hired him in your absence."
"So he wields a wicked cane too?"
"To a degree."
"Is he as ruthless as Beatrice?"
"As housekeeper? Of course not. He's hardly a sadist."
"I trust that you have a fresh servant girl available for my four o'clock ritual."
"Of course, Harold. I'm quite sure she will . . . will inspire you."
Harold propped himself up on his pillow and lit that infernal cigar which his wife Charlotte detested. "Describe her."
"Finnish; around eighteen; shy; on the petite side."
"Eyes?"
"Emerald."
"Her English?"
"Barely passable."
Charlotte smiled as she watched him respond to her words as one of his hands made its way south under the sheet while his other held his cigar. When he inhaled the glow from it illuminated his eyes as he savored the thought of what lay in store for himself come four o'clock. He could already vision her pleading green eyes looked up at him as he throated her while she was being caned. That was his four o'clock routine.
The ritual was fully acceptable for her ladyship in more ways than one. First it served to have him satisfy his sexual appetite at another's expense. Second it satisfied her own sadistic lust and third his lordship couldn't object to her being serviced during the event. It had become a lovely family tradition.
Charlotte's hand made its way to His Lordship's crotch. She brushed aside his own as she felt for his cock. The search was short-lived as His Lordship was rock-hard; harder than he had been while inside her just minutes before. Why kid themselves. Certainly Harold would rather be throating a young servant girl as she was being caned than getting with it mechanically yet one more time with his old lady - Her Ladyship. Just as clearly Charlotte would prefer watching the servant girl's torment as she was being throated and caned and seeing Harold's filthy cigar a-smoking as his ugly, hairy cock smoked.
Lady Charlotte's hand gently wrapped itself about her husband's super-thick cock. Now was the time to bring up the little problem she had been worrying over with regard to four o'clock.
"Harold dear."
"What is it dear?"
"Would you mind if Alfred paid me some . . . some attention this afternoon while you . . . you are . . . are."
"How thoughtful for you to ask. Of course not, dear."
She started to stroke his joint which was now throbbing. Never could she get over how thick it was. No wonder it painfully stretched her insides.
"Now Charlotte."
Oops; had she misjudged him?
"No; don't."
"Don't?"
"I have to save myself," he explained as he moved her hand from his shaft to his hairy balls.
"Oh. Yes, of course."
"I have no problem with you being serviced while I am but I don't want this . . . this Alfred staring at me. I mean. Especially with his not be sadistic."
"Harold you don't give me the credit I deserve. It would be the suffering servant girl that his eyes would be focused on and not you."
"Would be?"
"I doubt that he will be able to see much with his head buried deep in my burrow."
Harold began to inhale and exhale smoke as his testicles were squeezed and un-squeezed. It was nice to be back home; back home with such a compatible wife.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"It is such an honor to at last meet you, my Lord," said the handsome young man with a broad smile as he stood before Harold seated in a high-back wing chair. "I've heard so much about you."
"And I as well, Alfred."
"Thank you sir. If I do say so myself, I am a good driver. I so enjoy driving the Rolls."
The two men stared at each other eye-to-eye until they both broke out into smiles.
"Do you wish for me to cane Sarja this afternoon, your Lord?" Apparently that was the Finnish girl's name.
"No; Beatrice will handle that. I'd prefer that you learn my taste - my style - as an observer. But don't let that keep you from attending to her ladyship's needs."
"Of course."
"I'll see the Finnish wench now."
Alfred clapped his hands twice.
Into the great room came the girl carrying a large rattan cane upon her open palms as if making an offering. The size of the cane served to emphasize her pettiness. With her head down and the Housekeeper Beatrice walking close behind her she made her way over to His Lordship and Her Ladyship sitting in their marron wing chairs with Alfred standing beside Charlotte.
"Welcome home, my lord," said Beatrice as the girl stood there before him. "I hope you had a splendid time while in Africa. We all did so miss you."
"Thank you, Housekeeper. And I the same."
"The Scandinavian wench here goes by the name Sarja."
"She has had the cane, I assume."
"Of course, my lord."
"Of course. The cane remains our primary tool in instilling and maintaining a proper attitude in our house servants."
"And well it should."
Harrold looked over the lass standing before him offering up the horrid cane with her face down in submission. She was wearing the standard maid's cotton, black and white uniform with a white ruffled bonnet.
"How are her teeth, housekeeper?"
In an instant Beatrice lifted the girl's head and squeezed her cheeks. "Open wide." The girl stared at the housekeeper as she peeled back her upper lip to reveal pearly white uppers and then her lower lip. Then she spread her mouth as wide open as possible in a rough manner as the girl's eyes darted around.
"Very well. She'll do."
Harold took the cane and handed it to the housekeeper. With that Harold stood, spread his legs and placed his hands on his hips. "Now for a proper introduction."
Having already been explained the proper procedure the servant girl went down on her knees and began unbuttoning his lordship's fly. With that done she inserted her petite hands to locate and bring forth the hairy monster.
Out sprung his lordship's thick cock into the fresh room air. Both the girl's eyes and mouth opened in amazement. Good lord. How could she ever hope to obey her instructions and have that horrid monster completely disappear into her mouth?
After absorbing that expected facial shock Harold turned to look at Charlotte and Alfred. The handsome young man's face was also registering shock at seeing the size of His Lordship's cock.
"What did I tell you," said Charlotte with a look of self-pride. The housekeeper's face also showed a measure of pride coupled with a slight sadistic smile.
"I think she has forgotten something, housekeeper."
"HIS LORDSHIP'S BALLS, GIRL! You stupid Finns."
Back inside his open fly flew one of the girl's petite hands. Feeling their immense size she inserted her other hand. With two hands she brought forth his lordships balloon-sized ball along with some black pubic hair and some foul crotch odor.
As many times as the others had seen his lordship's cock and balls they still held the sight in awe. Good Lord but was his lordship hung. And well did he know it. For that reason he never hesitated in having his family jewels put on display. After all, was he not lord of his own domain?
Sarja watched from her kneeling position as his lordship began to strut his stuff. He walked proudly around the poor sacrificial lamb smiling as Beatrice the housekeeper began to swish the horrid cane. The girl didn't know which was the worse, that thick, hairy, upright cock or the rattan cane swishing the room air. Truthfully, there was no need for comparison as she would be receiving both at the same time under the lustful gaze of others. When the kneeling girl turned her head away he grabbed her by her blondish hair and turned her face to his pride and joy. "What do you think of it? What's her name again?"
"Sarja."
"Sarja. Do you like it?"
Pitifully the kneeling girl nodded her approval.
"Answer His Lordship, girl," ordered Beatrice.
"It is a good one sir. Yes, a good one."
