The Maing of Aristo Slave

The Pick-up

I hear the carriage approaching the main estate gate, the sound of the horses' hooves louder on the gravel surface. I say 'our' carriage, several have passed me going into the estate, all bringing guests for the evening entertainment. This is good, I had not predicted the time for us to go to the tavern for sex and fun coincided with your father's evening entertainment and female pleasure for his guests.

The driver recognises me, pulls up and I jump up to sit beside him to continue the journey along the tree lined avenue to the manor. Our carriage amongst the others give us an excellent disguise. Even when we pull off early to stop near the side entrance where we agree to meet, we are not noticed. For a moment I think you are not there. In the darkening gloom you are lost against the blackened hedge. When you briefly push back the hood of your cloak, I am relieved and pleased to see your face and you!

I jump down, quickly open the carriage door and help you in. I follow you and as I close the door, tap on the carriage roof and soon we are making our way out of the estate amongst the other empty carriages.

As the carriage rumbles slowly out onto the road leading to the village, you push back the hood, and I take a sharp intake of breath. Your hair is a nurtured curled bouquet. Your face is made up so sensuously, exaggerating your dark eyes, contrasting with vibrant red full lips.

As much as I love the look and the way I feel my cock stir, I wonder already if I have taken you too far. You are already beyond the tavern's wildest dreams. Class.

Heart beating rapidly "Undo the cloak and show me" I whisper. Looking at me you take the ends of the bow at your neck, pull and push back the cloak to reveal you and tavern fun.

The revelation of my Aristo/tavern wench/whore, I have to say takes my breath away yet again. It is the first time I have seen you dressed since the seamstress finished my handy work I created back in the scullery. I have got to say the first thing my eyes drop to are your breasts, heaving with excitement, nerves, who knows. Barely contained and so much on show that the vague covering of your nipples is the closest to modesty they will experience tonight. The lace bow at the front, so tempting to pull.

Even in this moment of enjoying your cleavage, I wonder how long your tits will remain contained tonight and I would be surprised if they were not already on show by the time you reach me later.

I follow the styling of the dress that directs me down to your exposed pussy. "Open your legs as wide as you can". You do as I say.

The fragrant oil you must have rubbed into your neat naked mound fills my nostrils. It shimmers clean and inviting, your pink slit open and vibrant.

"You hot?" I ask. You nod

"Wet for fucking?" You nod again

"I guess I need to check how much you want cock."

I slide my fingers over your lips and hard clit before slipping them inside you. Fuck you are so slick and silky wet. You moan as I push two then three fingers into you and slowly fuck your hole, corkscrewing as I penetrate you. Your pussy slurping and sucking my fingers as they drip in your juices. You moan as the invasive pleasure mounts.

"You want my cock bitch?" I ask. Your groan is a yes in my world and you reach to undo my buttons

"Suck me like the tavern whore you will become" I demand.

You lay across my lap and stroke my cock. You have one leg propped up on the carriage seat so I can continue my joyous wet hole finger fuck of you.

I watch as you gather my cock into your mouth and then close my eyes enjoying the different cock sucking sensations of tight lips, lively tongue and stroking fingers as you eat me. Of course, I tell myself I can hold back until the tavern to have you but you are so hot, so sexy, such a hot whore in waiting, no chance!

I rapidly fuck your cunt as you suck me. My fingers plunging into you, quicker deeper. You sucking my cock, wanking me mirrors pussy action. Then you stop sucking me, groan as your climax nears and then takes over. Eyes close as you are lost and I thrust harder and deeper until your body is gripped in the hot climax you need and desire...

I enjoy the flushed expression and heavy breathing that coming does to you. I wait for a little while.

"Open your mouth wench and take my seed." You obey and open your mouth to suck me as I help by fucking your mouth. I haven't reached the tavern yet and I want to come in you. I fuck your mouth as you suck to the point of no return.

I feel the first jet of cum in your mouth, and your moan of acceptance. My body tenses as I fill your mouth and throat with hot cream, images of your mouth on cock, feasting in the tavern, feeds my desire to cum more and all for you to swallow.

It's a journey to the tavern I had not planned or expected. This is a journey I will relive again and again! The driver drops me off at the main entrance. I have just about got my composure back as I make my way to the tavern door. The carriage will take you around to Grope Lane and to the back doorway.

The Tavern

I am greeted as always with a beer and friendly handshakes. I take up my normal place amongst friends. My heart is pounding not just from the hottest carriage journey I have ever experienced, but from knowing the next few hours will be nothing like I have experienced before.

I watch for you coming into the tavern. The doors open and a dark cloak clad figures enters into the room. A few curiously turn to look at the visitor, but you go largely unnoticed. There is much sex, cock sucking, and too much merriment engaging the tavern. But...

You undo the bow and slide off the cloak from your shoulders. It drops to floor silently revealing you. I'm transfixed. I'm suddenly in awe and consumed by the need to have you again. Like a beacon of purity, others in the room soon become aware of your presence. Most stop what they are doing, drinking, fucking, to take in this sexual delight who has wandered 'innocently' into the cauldron of their fucking, taking, need and unreciprocated pleasure.

Though silence does not descend on the tavern, the noise dips to an excited murmur as the men and woman quickly digest the exquisite almost naked creature that instantly is recognised as not being one of them.

From head to foot you are a wonder of exposed aristocratic beauty and desire. These men and woman are incapable of formulating such connections, but you as a creature of their wildest imaginations having just walked into their world has become the most desired and fuckable bitch this tavern has ever seen.

Even though I have recently enjoyed fingering your silky naked cunt, the display of flawless swollen sex, the sliver of wet pink lips has me, and increasingly the menfolk greedily ogling your pussy. The temperature of want and desire increases more than I dare imagine. As I look at you, transfixed as all the other hungry demanding men folk are, again I ask myself have I pushed you too far into the cauldron of harsh sex, hard fucking that is the gutter of working life and this place.

I see you take a deep breath and hesitate. Are you looking for a way out? Hard to tell, then you step forward. In the murmur the tavern has descended to, the rhythmic click of heels on the wooden floor strikes out. Then the voice of the tavern matriarch pierces the pleasure zone you are creating.

"Oi bitch -- what the fuck you doing here?" she shouts as she strides toward you, her red podgy face now inches from yours. She looks older than she really is but can no longer rival the younger tarts the men favour. Now she lives off meagre 'protection' money.

"There's no place for your pretty cunt here!"

You look at her. I hold my breath waiting.

"Why is that?" you ask quietly, staring back with the same intensity.

"Go to the Inn down the road -- better still the Manor House. There is a masquerade tonight so it is looking for top cunt to fuck! I'm sure a posh slag like you will earn good money."

You stare at her calmly, not fazed by her aggressive manner.

"I know, I'm on my way there and I agree I will earn good money selling this." You say coldly, pulling the gap of your skirt wider to display more naked sex, and then you add, "Thought I might just get warmed up here first."

With that the room erupts, tankards slammed against the table, everyone voicing their support for you being here. A class whore beyond their dreams and perhaps beyond their purse, but you choose to come here, to their tavern.

You look around the tavern, not full but still enough aroused labourers willing to spend their last coin on sex, a hand job, a finger fuck, a blowjob -- whatever they can afford, all are spellbound by you.

Amongst the noise I catch comments.

"Fuck that is hot"

"Class"

"Fuck me a proper shaven cunt!"

"Fuck I bet we can't afford her"

"Love those tits!"

"Ohh fuck that is a tight slit"

"Do you think she takes up her tight arse?"

"Do you think she swallows?"

It's a blur of blunt appreciation, if you see it that way, but the excitement you have created; well you can judge for yourself.

I look at you with admiration, the first challenge skilfully handled. My nervousness though is not diminished especially as my two friends discuss you in more sober and questioning terms.

"She looks as if she comes from wealth. What do you think?"

"Not from here. Definitely not seem her on the streets or the Inn."

"She looks too expensive for the likes of us."

"Not working class"

"Why would she come here? She'll be lucky to get out of here without be taken. Coin or no coin."

My other friend nods sagely in agreement before returning to his pipe.

The unwanted verbal distraction is quickly forgotten.

"Oi you slut." A voice I recognise draws your attention.

You walk towards him, I know him well, belligerent takes his money's worth.

"Yes?" you ask

He looks straight at your naked mound, "Best shaven cunt I have seen for a long time." He adds with a sly smile.

"Looking is free." You add with an equally sly grin.

"With a hole that tidy, I would not be surprised if you have been fucked already tonight. You know price drops with a used whore."

You look coolly down at him. "Is that so?" you ask and then leaning forward, eye to eye, "Want to check?" you ask.

With that you lift a heeled foot onto the bench seat and pull back your skirt exposing your pussy even more. He is transfixed and licks his lips not believing what a hot clean bald pussy he has been invited to touch.

I see you looking at his hands, workers hands. Calloused and hard from years working on the land. So far removed from the coiffured privilege of your manicured varnished fingers. If the thought of his fingers sliding into your sex appals you, you hide it well. He looks up at you and smiles wickedly as he inserts his finger into you. Difficult to see from where I am sitting but can see his finger slowly moving between your open legs.

You can feel him finger fucking you, enjoying you. You first look at him and cast a glance at his small stash of coin on the table before fixing him with an icy glare.

"I think you can tell everyone I haven't been fucked yet but you keep finger fucking me -- you will pay", and nodding towards the money, "and that is not enough." You say nonchalantly.

He groans and reluctantly slips his fingers from you. He looks up at you angrily before announcing.

"The bitch's cunt is clean boys and she is so fucking wet unlike these dry slags, so good for us to fuck!"

A huge cheer goes up, and tankards are crashed onto the table in unison. Already I am impressed with how well you are coping with what must be blunt crudity you have not experienced before. You remove your foot from the bench, brush your skirt ensuring your pussy is still on display. You glance in my direction. I can see your cheeks are flushed; you share a slight smile. In these early moments of entering the tavern, abandoning privilege for the singular desire of every wretch here, perhaps you are excited, maybe turned on by the adventure of unknowns and uncertainties you are about to embark on.

Like everyone else I am captivated as you slowly start to walk further into the tavern between the long benches glancing around you, taking in the fixed stares of barefaced lust.

"Oi whore show us what our coin will buy!" shouts a grizzled old codger from another bench. You look briefly at him before turning to the more central bench. Two men on the bench instinctively know what is your intention and slide to leave a gap where you place your heeled foot. Both proffer a hand to help you step up onto the table itself. Once again tankards are slammed onto the tabletops accompanied by a satisfied roar from the menfolk that fills the room with noise. In the years I have frequented the tavern I have never experienced such a vocal outpouring of intense want.

I find it intimidating and worry for you but I admire how you seem to thrive off the attention. You place your hands on your bare hips, that pushes the skirt behind your wrists, maximising how much pussy is exposed and on show for your fervent audience. You walk slowly along the table ensuring everyone gets a good eyeful of your smooth bald mound. The cacophony of moments ago gives way to murmurs of approval. The expression on their faces I liken to how starving men would look when a feast is paraded teasingly in front of them

I see you look down and stop. Something has seized your attention. Initially, among then men sitting below you but your gaze extends to the bench opposite where all the men are facing you. I see you look along the length of the seated assemble. I cannot see directly what has grabbed your attention from where I am seated, but I know the commoners of the tavern. Many, and I suspect today a lot, have their cocks out and are freely wanking. Some get their pleasure from watching others pay for sex and are happy to self-satisfy for free. There is no doubt they have a bonus in your erotic exhibition being flaunted before them. You continue to walk along the table, occasionally stopping, widening your stance and quite lewdly thrust your pussy forward. I hear gasps of approval and the tell-tale grunts of men shooting their load onto the tavern floor. You watch enthralled as the act of release is openly accepted. Almost encouraged.

"You hot slut get your tits out!", a rotund and ruddy faced man groans. You look at him and his pudgy fingers that are rapidly pounding his equally fat meat.

Your hands move to the silk ribbon that criss-crosses the bodice, and taking each end between fingers and thumbs, pull slowly until the bow undoes and the silky material relaxes as the tension is released. You look back to your captivated audience that has largely fallen silent, the only obvious sound is the sighs and moans of those continuing to jerk off. You take hold of each piece of loose clothing and in a theatrical gesture tug the bodice down over your tits. I join in with the gasps of delight. While I specified a corset had to be worn, the lacy black and red garment of what is on display contrasts with the pale colours of your dress. The corset merely supports your ample bosom, boobs and hard nipples fully on display. You dip forward slightly, and taking each tit in hand squeeze and jiggle them; the growing crowd applaud and whoop, their lust for you more openly expressed. The fat man exhibits his pleasure by lamely coming on his breeches.

As much as I am enjoying the spectacle and being turned on by your erotic display, I hope it does not inflame the men too much. This place has never experienced anyone like you and I need to be aware of the craving for more of you does not get of control.

You stroll back to the place you originally stepped onto the table. Your two helpers are there to help you down when you suddenly stop and stare ahead of you. I look to see what or who has you mesmerised. Not too surprising I see it is 'Horse' and I have no doubt why you stopped in your tracks. A man who looks younger than he actually is, to the point of not looking old enough to be in a place such as this. His slight, skinny build and pasty complexion does little to improve on this view. His nickname has nothing to do with the fact he is a lad at your father's stable and stud. No, a freak amongst men perhaps that this puny bloke has the most impressive prick of anyone in the tavern. An impressive nine inches of solid fuck meat. We all know he is watching you while he wanks. He never has money for whores or ale, yet our jealously is not just limited to his impressive size but the fact is, he has fucked more whores in the tavern than anyone else. The women tire of modest sized cocks occasionally offer sex for free to Horse, to experience the pleasures such a tool can deliver.

"Please miss can I take a closer look at your sex please?" Horse ever polite asks you quietly, though breathing deeply.

Now with the help of the two men you climb off the table and walk the few steps to the other bench, your eyes not leaving Horse's cock as he slowly strokes his rigid pole. Placing one foot on the bench next to Horse, you twist to sit on the table, only doing so when you skirt is pushed fully behind you. Keeping one foot on the bench, you plant the other one on the tabletop, the resulting position fully exposing your pussy that is inches from the wide-eyed lecherous stare of Horse.

"Like what you see?" you ask seductively, as you slide your finger along the channel of your lips. Horse merely mouths the word "yes", unable to speak.

You tease him more by using a second finger to push your lips apart, the vivid pink of your engorged pussy stimulates Horse to ride his cock faster. Not only is he reacting to your blatant erotic display, you are too. Your touch clearly excites you, your face flushes from the heat of your growing pleasure. You now move your fingers to your clit and strum against the hardness, a low moan escapes you as your orgasm builds. You move your other hand to your boob and squeeze your doughy flesh.

"You like my boobs too?" you whisper, just about controlling the signs of your developing release. You slide your finger and thumb down to your nipple and pinch it hard, biting your lip to stifle your gasps.

"My hard nipples?" you manage to get out, the final trigger as Horse's climax suddenly erupts. You look on, like the rest of us in awe as thick ribbons of white cream shoot skywards, before falling back to earth onto the tavern floor and his neighbour's breeches. Horse desperate to keep looking at your pussy as he batters his cock in an orgasmic frenzy whimpers as copious jets of come eject from his cock. While everyone admires Horse's impressive load that keeps spewing from him, I notice you slowly close your eyes, red lips part slightly, the tell-tale sign you are in the grip of your climax. Your body shudders to the spasms of pleasure surging through you. The truth is very few of the men have ever experienced or seen a woman orgasm and doubt those who watch you now, lost in private delight, understand the intense release you enjoy. By the time Horse, sweating and panting, watches the dregs of spunk cover his cock and hand, your own blissful journey has passed. Breasts still heaving, rosy cheeks from your exertions, you gingerly climb off of the table and brush your skirt down. You move to continue your walk between the tables, then stop suddenly startled by the presence of a woman standing immediately in front of you. This is Alice.

She is relatively new to the tavern, and not a lot is known about her. Her fresh clean complexion suggests she comes from better stock than the typical tavern whore. Only the drab slut outfit that mirrors yours in style, not finery places her firmly amongst them. The menfolk were excited with her arrival. Like you, exceptional new talent to fuck is always greeted enthusiastically. It soon turned to anger when Alice declared "I don't fuck men". She soon won them back though. The men never thought that women would have sex with each other. For a few coins each, the men can enjoy watching Alice's 'show'. The girls who hesitated initially to join her soon realised this was preferable to being mauled and roughly shagged by men for less coin.