Chapter 1: A maid finds love
Lord Marchwood returned from London dispirited and frustrated. He had hoped to combine business with pleasure and had achieved his objectives in neither respect. His speech in the House of Lords on housing for the working classes had not been well received. He had then visited his favourite bordello only to find that his favourite doxy had upped and left, no one knew whither. Lord Marchwood had very specific sexual inclinations and Eliza had been satisfying his needs for some time; it was a bitter blow to discover that she was no longer available. Lord Marchwood's taste ran to the larger woman. That is not to say large to the point of obesity, he merely preferred his women well rounded with full breasts and ample buttocks and thighs.
Five years earlier, on his honeymoon, his lordship had completed the grand tour of France and Italy. It was here that he encountered some of the great classical works of art. Lord Marchwood had been particularly taken with some of the paintings of Reubens and Titian depicting full-fleshed maidens and goddesses. These represented his ideal vision of womanhood and, after some searching, he had tracked down Eliza in an East End Bordello. She seemed to embody precisely the qualities for which he was searching. Eliza possessed long flowing golden tresses and had a round dimpled face with full red lips worthy of a classical beauty. However, it was when she disrobed that her full charms were revealed in the form of large breasts with milky white skin and nipples like large strawberries. Best of all were her plump pillow-like buttocks, which he loved to caress as she lay languidly on her couch.
Eliza also had one further quality, which endeared her to Lord Marchwood, she was able to satisfy his peculiar sexual proclivities. For Lord Marchwood, complete sexual satisfaction was not obtainable by regular coitus. He found that the normal channel of intercourse between man and woman offered insufficient excitement and stimulation, he was instead, in the language of the East End whores, 'a gentleman who preferred the tradesman's entrance'. Some of the ladies of the night were unwilling to oblige his need to penetrate their tightest and most forbidden orifices and, of those who would, few possessed the physical attributes preferred by his lordship. Most of them were slum girls who had grown up undernourished and physically emaciated. Lord Marchwood had made numerous speeches in the House of Lords about the conditions of London's poor but his ideas were out of step with those of the government and indeed of most of his class.
So it was that on his last visit to the bagnio he had been obliged to settle for second best. The girl that the Madame brought to him was plump enough but she had little else to recommend her; her face was marked by smallpox and she had a noticeable squint in one eye. The girl had been initially resistant to his special request and had only acceded when he had promised her a ridiculously large tip. Even then she had squealed like a stuck pig as he pushed his manhood between her plump arse cheeks and impaled her tightly clenched rosebud on his lance. Normally he would have ridden Eliza in a leisurely manner, enjoying the tight grip of her sphincter around his throbbing prick. However, the new girl grumbled and griped so much about how sore he was making her that he contented himself with bringing himself to a climax with a few swift strokes, ejaculating with a brief spurt into her bowels.
So it was that Lord Marchwood sat in his rattling coach in a foul mood. His spirits were not lifted either by the prospect of being reunited with his wife of five years. It had been a marriage of convenience. Lord Marchwood had inherited his father's estate a few years before and was saddled with huge debts. Culbourne House was in dire need of repairs and he had plans to make major improvements to the outdated farming practices of his tenants. He would also have liked to build new cottages for the labourers and a school for the village children but all this required money. When his mother effected an introduction to Letitia Bowlby the daughter of a Yorkshire coal magnate he had not been impressed. Letitia was without doubt a beauty, possessing a slender and graceful figure and well formed and regular features. She had been well schooled by her governess, displaying impeccable manners; she played the piano beautifully and could converse intelligently on art and literature. All in all she had the attributes to make an excellent wife.
Of course, Letitia had no breeding, her father was a self-made man and still spoke with a rough Yorkshire accent but he was prepared to offer ten thousand a year to the right man if he would marry his daughter and, as his mother pointed out, that would go a long was to resolving his financial difficulties. However, while Letitia was beautiful and cultivated there was a certain coldness and aloofness about her which had deterred many of her suitors. Lord Marchwood too found this unattractive but urged on by his mother he had courted Letitia and finally asked her father for her hand. Elijah Bowlby had been overjoyed to think that his family were to be united with one of the most illustrious families in the land and readily gave his consent to the union. After a short engagement the couple were wed and set off on their grand tour of Europe.
Lady Marchwood was in no better spirits than her spouse. It had been the day before that she had received his letter announcing his imminent return. She had enjoyed having the house to herself during his absence. Even more she had enjoyed not having to endure his unwelcome visits to her bedroom, although thankfully these had become more infrequent in the last year or so. Of course there was still the problem that she had failed to produce the long desired heir to the Marchwood title and she suspected that her husband's now infrequent visits to her bed were motivated as much by a desire to impregnate her as by any sexual longing. Occasionally she wondered whether he had found an outlet for his desires elsewhere. Perhaps he kept a mistress in London who he visited on his frequent trips to the capital. All in all she did not care, she had no interest in her husband's sexual needs and she was able to satisfy her own elsewhere.
The night before she had known would be her last without her husband in the house for some time. She made her preparations for bed early that night and sat at her dressing table as Therese, her French lady's maid brushed out her long dark hair. Therese turned down the bed ready for her mistress and then crossed to where she was sitting and gently bent her head to nibble her mistress's ear. Letitia turned her head and took her servant's face in both hands, pulling her towards her and then kissing her passionately on the lips. Their tongues found one another and swirled over and over. As they slowly broke away form each other Lady Marchwood whispered to Therese that this would be their last night together for some time and gently led her maid to the side of her bed. Lady Marchwood sat on the bed as Therese slowly undressed, removing first her white apron and starched cap and then unbuttoned her long black dress.
She neatly folded the dress across a chair and then slipped off her petticoat. She stood for a moment in her corset and drawers. Lady Marchwood rose and embraced her servant, kissing her once more deeply on the mouth. As mistress and servant remained locked in this passionate embrace it was the mistresses fingers which found the bow to the waistband of Therese's drawers and gently untied it, drawing the cotton undergarment downwards. It was the mistress's slender fingers which tenderly fondled the smooth curves of her servants buttocks and it was the mistresses fingers which explored the lush curls between her maid's legs and finally pushed deep into the cleft between them causing a small trickle of moisture to escape and trickle across her hand.
Sarah rose bright and early as usual. She had been working in the big house for six years and enjoyed her life. She had hated life at home, sharing the tiny cottage with twelve other children had been hard, there was often little to eat and all the children feared their father getting drunk as it usually meant that one or more of them would get beaten. Sarah was only too glad when at the age of twelve her mother announced that she had found a place for her at Culbourne House. As a 'tweenie' maid Sarah was kept busy running between the kitchen and the upstairs part of the house but she enjoyed the company of the other servants and loved living and working in one of the great houses of England. All the servants agreed that Lord Marchwood was a good master. He not only paid slightly more than most other employers but he also allowed all the servants a half day off each week and two days holiday a year. At Christmas every servant received a present from his lordship and there was a harvest feast with music and games for all the servants and estate workers. Perhaps more important than all of these was that for the first time in her life Sarah was well fed, eating three large meals a day and as a consequence the spindly twelve year old who had first entered service had grown into a plump, buxom young woman.
