In His Lordship's Employ

"Oh, no, my lord, please don't," the new upstairs maid cried, but her lord chose not to hear. She was a tart little piece, and he'd been eyeing her for weeks, stroking himself in the shadows whilst she'd been going about her chores.

Sure, he could have just had her on her back the first day of her employ, but waiting, he had determined, made the final conquest that much sweeter.

For instance, her plaintive sniffle, her little struggles, had his cock granite-hard and straining to impale her, to break her irrevocably. His desire for her was almost painful, and he was pleased that he'd remembered to lock the door to his study when she'd brought him his chocolate this morning.

He retrieved with one hand the set of manacles in his desk drawer and bound her work-calloused hands -- boxing her pretty pink face hard when she tried to wiggle out of his grasp.

"Don't be foolish," he crooned, lashing those manacles to a hook beneath his desk so that he had her face-down on the blotter, tugged all the way across the massive teak writing surface. On his side, her tiny feet didn't even touch the Aubusson, which made him grin: she could kick all she wished, the little trollop, but she would not be able to escape. He could take his time in the fucking of this one. And he meant to, at that.

But first, to diminish the pressure somewhat.

He shoved her gabardine skirts up, covering her face and muffling her cries, and baring quite the sweetest rump he could rememeber seeing: very round and dimpled and soft as feathers to the touch. He slapped it once -- hard -- and it quivered like a voluptuous plum pudding.

Positioning himself between her straining thighs, he unfastened his placket, withdrew his surging cock, and shoved it into her dry, tight hole, all the way in, until his balls squashed deliciously against that quivering white bum. Ahhh. This was delicious: he always delighted in fucking a virgin.

The maid screamed until she was hoarse, but her voice was muffled by the skirts and petticoats and whatnot. He lord gloried in the sounds, pulled out, and slammed into her tight clutch again, smoothed on his way this time by the blood of her deflowering. Oh, it was too lovely, this. He grabbed her plump little hips and pistoned himself: in and out and in and out, as quickly as he could, fucking her hard until her struggles withererd and stopped, oh, and ... there it was. The tiniest flex of her muscles inside, holding him close.

"You do like it, after all, you see," he murmured. "You *are* a little whore, one after my own heart." And on that thought, he came, emptying his seed deep in her no-longer-virgin quim. Well, that should slick the passage a bit, he thought, resting for a moment between her thighs, satiated.

Only for a moment, though. He had plans for this morning. He smiled at the ripe suction of sound his cock made when he withdrew it from her body. It had felt like an overlarge orgasm, he thought, but to see in fact the mess of white viscous material smeared with blood all over her quim and pert buttocks, well, it did a man proud to know he'd had it within himself.

He wiped his partially flaccid penis on her hem, and then sat back in a deep leather chair and imbibed a half glass of port, sort of to relax, and also to plan.

Anon, he wandered to the far side of his desk, ignoring for the moment her head, still covered by her skirts and emitting little sniffling sounds, and retrieved from his desk drawer -- a repository indeed of all things salacious -- a trim set of Chinese scissors. He used these to cut her dress off. And then her shift. When he slid the scraps of cloth off of her succulent body, he noticed that she raised a tear-stained face and tried to catch his eye. Interesting, that. Most women, he'd found, would have been quite de-spirited by this time, but here was a rare miss indeed.

"You wanted to say something, my dear?" he queried, anticipating the pleadings that would make fucking her again all the more delicious.

"Wh-what was that? What you did to me, I meant. What you call it?" she asked, her voice small and raspy from her screaming.

How charming, this ignorance! He smiled widely.

"Why, I fucked you," he told her. "Do not tell me you've never seen a stallion covering a mare, or a bull having a frolic on a cow. Same sort of thing."

"You put a baby in me, then?" she said softly, her eyes filling with tears.

"Oh, tis unlikely to have happened already, but the day is young." He pushed his trousers down and stepped out of first his shoes, and then the pantaloons. All within her sight, he unfastened his garters and removed his socks and smallclothes. And free now, his cock sprang up, still slathered with her gore and his cum.

"Here, my dear, clean me up, will you? This is what I pay you for, after all." And he moved to stand by her head, pulling her face to the side and moving his cock to where she could reach it with her mouth. She wetted her lips with a pink tongue and then, as he pushed the back of her head with one firm hand, went about her task. Hesitantly at first, of course, but with increasing diligence as he instructed her along.

His cock hardened steadily beneath her oral ministrations, and at last he could endure it no more, but pinched the hinges of her jaw between thumb and forefinger, opening her mouth wide, and slid himself in deep, pushing until he could feel the back wall of her throat. He closed his eyes in bliss. A virgin mouth, too, if he had to wager. Ahhhh.

She made some little choking sounds and scratched ineffectively on the manacles and the edge of his desk, but he just kept fucking her sweet, sweet soft mouth. All was warm and wonderful in there, he thought: even the ridges of pearly teeth rapign along his shaft. He'd pushing in far enough that she couldn't attempt to nip him -- which was fortunate for her, as she would have been punished had she tried -- and he angled himself a few strokes in, to better explore the cavern in all its warm moist wonder.

But he wasn't ready to cum yet, not so soon after the first time, and he tired of fucking her pretty face, so he withdrew. When he examined his body, he had to admit that she had done a fine job indeed of cleaning him up. Plus, she had stopped crying and concentrated on her task at hand quite nicely, and so he thought to reward her.

He removed his coat, waistcoat, and cravat, and slipped a dressing gown over his shirt. Then he unlocked the study door and rang the bell. Within moments, a footman knocked solicitously on the door.

"Enter," he called, and the young man opened the door and stepped inside. Oh, excellent, thought the lord: this footman had not been long in his employ, either. He would have the pleasure of initiating not one but two employees in the rules of the house this morn. A landed gentleman's work was never done, of course, but rarely was it so exciting as this.

The footman had been trained well and very carefully avoided staring at the pretty maid splayed across the desk, her thighs still lying wide as he'd left them, her privates exposed like a veritable banquet.

"My lord," the footman said, standing very straight.

"Come in, boy; do not loiter about the door." The lord waited until his servant complied, and then he instructed the young man to close the door. The lord locked it.

"As you can see," the lord said easily, "I have made something of a mess in here. See about that, will you."

When the footman hesitated, the lord gestured to the maid.

"Her pussy, lad. Lick it up, and hurry now; we haven't got all morning."

The footman blushed scarlet, and he was very awkward at his task, first getting to his knees in order to suckle her quim, but the lord soon disabused him of that plan. In the end, the footman simply bent at the waist, braced his hands on the desk on either side of the maid's bum, and lowered his mouth to her.

For a long moment, the lord just watched. The footman had some skill at this, he could discern, for the maid, who had been quiet for some time, made soft sounds now, barely audible. The little whore, thought her lord, and his cock surged anew.

He moved in behind the footman, who paused in his work. The lord waved him off.

"Don't mind me," he said genially. "Indeed, just do your job, lad." And he reached around to unfasten the footman's livery. When he pulled those pantaloons over the footman's hips, he was startled and pleased to see that his servant wore no smallclothes. Delightful!

Now, a lord of his experience had forethought situations such as these, and now he fished in the pocket of his dressing gown and withdrew a small glass jar. He unscrewed the lid and dug a finger into the contents. He resealed the jar and tucked it back into his pocket, and with his unsmeared hand spread the cheeks of the footman's bum. The footman, he noted as he wiggled his pinky into the tight pink rim there, did not sport as luscious a rear as did the little maid. But if the flex of that rim was tell-tale, this lad had had it up the ass before. The lord sighed happily: as delightful as he found fucking virgin maids, he liked his boys with somewhat more experience.

"My lord!" the footman said, and it could have been a protest or as easily a lover's exclamation.

"Never you mind," the lord said. "You just see to your task."

And the footman returned to licking the maid's now-dripping quim with gusto. The lord observed what he had created here, and he was pleased. The maid, never proof against pleasure, was writhing beneath the footman's mouth. And when he reached around, the lord found the footman's narrow staff quite engorged as well.

"Bend over her, lad," the lord said. "Fuck her." He heard the hoarseness in his own voice, the lust, and he shoved his finger deeper into the fotoman's hole, whilst he used his other hand to stroke his own cock.

Wonderfully obedient, the footman, not straightening his own body, pushed forward to cover the maid's back, stretched his hands along her arms, and slid his little penis into her very ready cunt. She cried out again, but this time with obvious pleasure. The footman reared back, as if to pump her pussy, but the lord forestalled him with gentle hands to the hips.

"On my mark," said the lord, positioning the head of his cock at the footman's ass and pushing in. Oooooh, tight heat. He embedded himself fully in the footman's lubricated bum, withdrew but a fraction, and steadied himself. Then, with firm pressure on the young footman's hips, he pushed him forward and back: on forward thrusts, the footman's cock slid into the maid, and on backward pulls, the footman was impaled on his lord's cock. Thus, the lord set a delightful rhythm that brought them all to climax within minutes.

Once he had come all over the footman's narrow ass, his lordship drew his dressing gown close across his body and stepped away, refilling his glass of port.

He listened with fond ears to the sighs and suckles of his young protegees, and he watched them as well. When the footman noticed the maid's manacles, the lord produced the key and allowed her to gain her freedom. She stood in all her nubile glory, quite naked, and grinned.

"My lord," she breathed. "Is there aught else I can do for you?"

Her lord smiled beatifically.

"I've a dinner party, a small gathering you understand, planned for Tuesday next. I would like both of you to serve my guests." He watched comprehension settle over their faces. The soft blushes that both the maid and the footman produced warmed their lord's heart and feathered over his loins.

"As you wish, sir," said the footman eagerly, clasping hands with the maid, who nodded in turn.

The lord permitted himself a broad smile as he left the study, on his way to the kitchens and a meeting with his Cook.