Note from author- For the last two years I have exclusively written in the celebrity section which is my passion. But Mrs. 123z has expressed a desire to see other stories. Taking aboard some of her fantasies and ideas I have written this. There might be more to come depending on reader's interest.
xxx
Kent, England 1920.
Lady Victoria Ponsonby Smythe was, plain and simple, a rich and spoilt bitch. Bored and dissolute at age forty she had married into money at the tender age of twenty and had become a Lady of the Manor in Whitstable. Her husband, Liberal Party member of Parliament Lord Henry Ponsonby Smythe, was fifteen years her senior and had long lost any sexual appetite he had, if indeed he ever had any. Victoria had been born into poverty in the small village in rural Kent, where most of the community knew terrible hardship. Blessed with stunning good looks Victoria Richmond, as she was, had been determined to get ahead in society and had seduced his Lordship with embarrassing ease. Soon after her hasty marriage she had given the Lord a son who had ended up serving King and Country in the Great War. Jeremy had returned a hero and gotten married himself and settled down. So now Victoria, left in a loveless and sex starved marriage, had time on her hands and plenty of opportunity to fulfil her depraved and wanton sexual desires.
x
Yes, Victoria was now very much a dignified woman but was also a mature dominatrix who loved nothing more than dominating men and women alike. Everything from spanking, bondage, whipping and the use of sex toys. Her love of discipline and domination were now the only way she achieved sexual satisfaction and she made sure of that every chance she got. Henry owned some of the richest stables in England and the war had not seen his substantial fortune dwindle like so many others. Victoria had learned to ride and she had been entrusted with the day to day running of the stables which boasted several prize studs.
"Be seated. Her Ladyship will be with you momentarily."
The valet retired from the room and Norman Jones was alone. The humble young labourer had graciously been given an audience with Lady Victoria for a job. He knew that she went through hired hands like water through a sieve but he knew about horses and desperately needed work after returning to his home from France and the army. After lunch he had arrived at the eighteenth century country house for his interview with her Ladyship for a position as stable boy. It occupied a beautiful position just outside the village and was surrounded by gardens and grounds and at the rear the stables. He had been ushered into the study and he awaited his prospective employer who had ventured out for a brisk morning canter.
"Ah, there you are."
Lady Victoria breezed into the room in her fashionable riding attire. She appeared astonishingly chic in trim black and white check jodhpurs and well tailored top coat. On her head she wore a perky little flat hat drawn over her forehead which she discarded immediately. She fluffed up her medium cut blonde hair and then removed her coat.
"So, you are Jones. Son of the local blacksmith."
The young dark haired man stood and nodded as he considered her Lombard middy blouse that was struggling to keep her huge 34F breasts in check. He did not fail to notice either the Malacca riding crop in her long gauntlet glove that she tapped against her high and tight fitting black boot with a resounding crack. Rumours abounded in hushed tones about her indecorous behaviour behind closed doors.
"Yes, your Ladyship."
He fiddled with his flat cap in his hands as he got his first close up look at the striking woman. Adjudged to be a demanding and harsh employer, with a short temper to boot, she had fired no less than five stable hands in the previous four months.
"Sit." She told him abruptly.
Norman sat down again in the large leather armchair but noted she did not. At a tall five feet eight she now seemed to tower over him as she grew nearer. She had an athletic body with slender legs, tiny waist and a firm backside that belied her forty years. Her skin was quite pale and her eyes a piercing blue that seemed to bore into his head. As she began to pace the room he could see she had a notable air of self confidence about her. She stole a sideways glance at the nervous man who crossed and uncrossed his legs constantly.
"Do I make you nervous?" She asked with a raised brow.
Jones looked into her made up face, the features of which were symmetrical and proportional. Her only flaw that he could see was her thin lips that made her look angry all the time.
"Well, I..."
"Speak up man! I cannot abide mumbling!"
Tap, tap, tap on the calf of her boot came the crop and Norman squirmed on his sweaty butt. She moved to her left and fell into a stuffed leather armchair and crossed her lithe pins.
"Married?"
"My Lady?"
"Good grief, deaf as well as stupid. Are...you...married."
"No," he snapped back.
"Good. If successful I may need your attendance at odd hours. Pay is three pounds and ten shillings a week. Take it or leave it."
Victoria stood up without awaiting his reply knowing he would say yes to the generous offer.
"Be here at six in the morning. Any tardiness will result in instant dismissal. As will sickness, insubordination, refusal to comply and fraternisation with female members of staff. Dismissed."
Norman stood up as she left the study, her peach of an ass rolling most seductively in her tight jodhpurs. His Lorship was one lucky fellow. A decent wage at last. He must do his utmost to keep in her Ladyship's good books.
x
A week passed and Lady Victoria paid him little attention but on the sly Norman had seen her more than once checking out his physique as he mucked out the stables or saddled up the horses. Unseasonably warm for the time of the year in England the strapping worker had toiled bare chested and his torso was becoming bronzed. One particular morning had seen one of the mares being especially irritable and the six foot man lost patience as he attempted to rub Starlight down.
"Stay still, damn your eyes!"
Jones lashed out and brought a crop down on the rear end of the mare. Just at the very moment Victoria arrived on the scene. In her usual riding gear she glared at him with those cold blue eyes of hers.
"What the devil do you mean by this! Only I am allowed to lay the whip down around here."
Victoria ripped the crop from his hand in a furious rage as the horse whinnied in the background.
"Now look my Lady, I know a thing or two about horses and now again the crop is needed. Starlight has been cranky all morning."
Victoria was all too aware of the importance of the crop and its many uses, and for a split second very nearly administered her own unique retribution as she bandied the crop in her glove.
"Spare the rod and spoil the horse, or something like that." Said Jones.
"This I find to be intolerable," said she gruffly as she examined her mare for physical harm.
"I think it best that you leave, Jones. I have no need for such behaviour from a mere stable boy. Go into the study and I will pay you off."
Jones followed the furious woman meekly inside the manor and stood to attention as Victoria sat in the deep seated armchair in the very same study he had been rewarded. As she counted out a handful of coins she looked at him sternly.
"Please, don't discharge me. I am in need of the money." Jones implored.
"The horse could have bled, you leave me no choice."
"My Lady, I'll do anything that you ask to make it up."
This was music to her ears as she crossed her long legs and leaned forward in the chair. She put a finger under her chin as she appeared to contemplate on the matter. Little did he know that wheels had been set in motion long before and he had played right into her hands.
"So you want to stay on. Then, you must put yourself at my disposal, completely and utterly. What do you say?"
"I accept." His answer came without pause, and, very possibly quite rashly.
"Be aware Jones, that I shall give you some of the same treatment that you so readily showed my horse. Now attend to your duties, and come to my private boudoir in one hour. Dismissed."
Jones left hurriedly and did not see the wicked grin on the woman' face as she steeped her fingers in her beige gloves. Just relieved at keeping his position Norman did not think too long and hard on his appointment.
x
Precisely an hour later Norman Jones found himself knocking on the door of Victoria's stylish room, totally unaware of what was expected of him.
"Enter!"
He heard her loud and clear, opened the door and stepped into the most expensively furnished bedroom he had ever seen. A sheepskin rug was under his feet that covered the dark wooden floor. Somewhat smaller than he had expected the walnut four poster bed dominated the room. Either side were walnut veneers, a triple wardrobe, linen press and dressing table. A cheval mirror and stool were in the corner. Daylight streamed through the one window that was lightly covered in white lace net curtains, although a couple of table lamps were illuminated. Then, Victoria appeared from her bathroom and his jaw dropped at the sight of her.
"I hope that you are fit and healthy, Jones. I have no need for weak spirited fellows."
She stood with her chin up and hands on jutting hips, proudly provocative and absolutely drop dead gorgeous. Jones stared at her in silence in her long black stockings with the frilly red garter belts. A figure hugging black corset that ended at her navel girdled her already small waist and cinched it in another degree. This only had the desired effect of course of emphasizing the enormous and bared boobs that quivered on her chest. On her feet were the highest black leather pumps he had ever seen which gave her an extra three inches in height. She wore black kid gloves, the colour matching her mascara painted lashes. But it was the sight of her exposed mound of Venus at the juncture of her thighs that he stared at unblinking. Fair of pubic hair her vulva was quite plain to see through the very fine, very blonde downy fluff. With her upper legs slightly parted he was given an excellent view of her plump labia.
"I think that I should withdraw."
Victoria's eyes blazed at him and she picked up a small riding crop and swished it through the air. Her nipples thrust out hard and pointed, a result of her instant arousal at the sight of the barrel chested male in a state of disbelief and confusion.
"You shall do no such thing! Remain where you are! Now, take a look at the table there."
Norman turned his head reluctantly and saw a pile of shillings gleaming in the light.
"There is an extra five shillings for you just so long as you play along. Go on. Stuff your pockets. And then, kindly remove your breeches."
