Lavinia Learns the Hard Way

As Lavinia settled into her comfortable four-poster bed and dismissed Hutton, her maid, she was oddly distracted. James, the new footman, really had entirely too much cheek. Her grandmother was right. Servants these days seemed to have a strange idea of what their place was. She had been forced to remind him of his duty earlier in the evening, which was to stand upright and uncomplaining while all of the members of the family and their luggage were loaded into the carriage for the journey back to the country house. He had actually dared to suggest that little Caroline, who had been playing harmlessly in the snow, should hurry up so the family could be on their way. It was true that Caroline was irritating. Having a twelve-year old sister when one was nineteen was annoying. She was so noisy and Lavinia was often short-tempered with her herself. But that was different. It wasn't James' place to correct a member of the family. And Lavinia knew that James hadn't really been worried about Caroline's comfort or safety. He had been selfishly worried about himself. Really, did he think he was being paid to sit about and do nothing. It was true that the wind had been a little sharp and that the snow had been coming down steadily, but it really required only a few minutes of discomfort on his part.

And only two days before that, he'd had the nerve to ask her to carry one of her own packages! She'd been shopping in London and had purchased a number of useful and decorative items at the markets there. There was a lovely Norwich shawl that would flatter her dark brown hair and green eyes and a very pretty spray of artificial flowers that would look delightful with her newest gown. And she'd found silk stockings and new gloves and several other items. Before long she'd accumulated a pile of packages and she had decided that it was time to go back to the London townhouse and see if Hutton could begin work on the new walking dress that needed to be mended and, while she was at it, sew new rosettes on Lavinia's ivory ball gown. And that was when it had happened. She'd stood waiting for James to open the door to the carriage and he'd dawdled inexcusably. She'd turned to see him juggling packages and thought how clumsy he was. And then, he'd actually asked her if she could possibly just take the top two packages for a moment so he could get the carriage door open. William, the coachman, had laughed aloud. He'd made her look absolutely absurd. Mama had hired him, Lavinia was convinced, only because he was tall and good-looking. Mama liked her footmen to be about six feet tall and to have broad shoulders, fit bodies, and dark hair. She usually hired two or three footmen and wanted them all to look as alike as possible. In fact, it was just like Mama to make these decisions only for show and with no thought as to the ability of the servants she hired. And when Lavinia had scolded James for his stupidity and incompetence, his demeanor had been insolent in the extreme. Instead of apologizing, he'd given her a look of defiance and had said nothing at all. She would speak to Mama in the morning about finding someone new. Yes, they had gone through three new footmen in the past year, but Mama would just have to understand that she really could not be expected to be treated with disrespect by the servants.

Lavinia's maid turned off the gas light and left the room. Lavinia turned against the feather pillow and tried to relax. She should feel exhausted, she knew. She'd traveled several miles from London to Fromley Manor and she'd attended a high tea at the neighbor's nearby home only one after her return. A number of young men had flirted with her and she'd enjoyed knowing that they admired her and wanted her, not that she'd ever take any of them seriously. But she couldn't seem to fall asleep. How annoying. Perhaps, she thought, she should ring the bell and have Hutton bring her a glass of hot milk, but it seemed to be such a bother.

And then, she heard her bedchamber door being opened. It must be Hutton. Perhaps the maid had realized how wound-up Lavinia had been all day and had anticipated that she might need something. Now, that was what a servant should be like.

"Hutton, did you bring something to help me sleep?" Lavinia eyes hadn't adjusted to the dark and she couldn't see well enough to determine where Hutton was standing.

"I don't think you'll be sleeping for a little while, Miss." The voice was not Hutton's. It was a man! Lavinia sat up straight in bed, her eyes wide. Who was it? Who had dared!

She heard the strike of a match and then she could see that it was James who stood there, now lighting a candle. What could he be doing here? Had he come to apologize? But how inappropriate for him to be in her bedchamber. Her indignation was so strong that she couldn't seem to find words. And then she saw him stride quickly toward her bedside table and put the candle in its holder down on the wooden surface.

If someone were to see him here it would look dreadfully scandalous. "You should not be here, James," she whispered in a harsh tone. "An idiot would know better. Go at once."

And then she felt his hand cover her mouth and press her back onto the pillows and his voice came again, not in a whisper, but not loud. "I'm not going anywhere, Miss Lavinia. I'm rather tired of listening to your spoiled whiny voice. You won't need to say anything at all for the next half-hour or so."

And something was being pushed into her mouth, a rough piece of fabric, a towel or scarf, and he was tying it into a knot at the back of her head. She started to fight him, punching and scratching at him. The heavy quilt kept her from kicking but she tried to turn her head and body away from him, but he suddenly jumped up onto the bed and straddled her while he finished tying the gag into place, ignoring the blows she was raining onto his chest and shoulders. She tried to hit him in the face, but he kept moving away and as soon as her hands were free he grasped both of them and held her hands over her head in one of his. She bucked and tried to kick, but the weight of his body on hers was too much. He let herself exhaust herself in trying to fight him off before he pulled something, another piece of fabric, but longer and thinner out of his pocket. He used it to tie her hands together where he held them above her head, and then he looped both ends of the cord around each of the posts at the headboard and drew them tightly together before knotting them.

He moved off of the bed and pulled the quilt and sheets away from the bed, leaving them in a heap on the floor. Lavinia's leg's were free and she tried to kick at him, but he moved easily out of her reach and the movement only left her legs exposed almost to the tops of her thighs.

"I could just let you kick and fight, Miss Lavinia, and I believe you'd show me everything I want to see before long, but I have something else in mind." His voice was low and threatening.

He moved quickly to the foot of the bed and grasped her firmly by both ankles before she had time to kick out again and she was swiftly flipped over onto her stomach. It almost knocked the breath out of her. And now, before she had time to think, he was pulling the pillows away from the top of the bed. Her head came down against the mattress and he was stuffing the pillows under her hips. Her bottom was raised up away from the bed and she was bent over with her rear in the air. Oh God, what was he going to do to her? She had been angry up until now, but she felt terribly afraid and helpless now.

"You, Miss Lavinia, must be the most spoiled woman of my acquaintance. You think no one has feelings except yourself and you have no thought for anyone's comfort besides your own. I've never seen someone who needed a spanking as much as you do and you're going to get one tonight."

With that, Lavinia felt her nightgown being dragged up over her hips, over her shoulders, over her wrists to become part of a tangle of fabric enmeshed with the cords that held her hands. She was completely naked to his gaze. She heard him step back and then she felt a stinging slap on her backside. She jerked and tried to turn away from it, but another blow came down on the opposite side. It stung! And then another slap came down squarely in the middle of her ass, and another and another. She was crying from pain and humiliation, but he didn't seem to notice or care. He just kept spanking her. She thought he would never stop. The slaps alternated from right to left and in the middle in no particular pattern and each one hurt as much as the one before.

Finally, he stopped and she felt him move up onto the bed again, straddling her legs. She had no more will to resist and hoped he would just finish with her and go. She'd have him fired the next day and never have to see him again. No. She would have him imprisoned! Even if she had to falsely accuse him of stealing something. He would regret this night more than she did. She would make sure of it.

She felt his hands moving across her ass, kneading her bottom, rubbing it. After the spanking it felt oddly soothing which troubled her, but before she had time to think he spoke again.

"Your lovely little ass looks very nice when it's hot and red like this, Miss Lavinia. And you've been well and truly punished. But I'm not done with you yet. Contrary to what you seem to think, servants do have needs and desires and you are going to satisfy my needs and desires now."

He moved away onto the floor again and she was again turned over. Now she lay on her back. Her arms were still secured tightly to the bedposts and they were numb. She knew they'd be unusable for a few painful minutes when she was released. Her hips were raised by the pillows. She tried to feebly kick at him as he turned her, but it was so futile. What was he going to do now? It couldn't be worse. The fabric of the pillows under her bottom seemed scratchy and rough against her tender skin, although she knew that they were made of the most delicate material.

He was next to the windows, doing something with the curtains. And when he came back, he stood by the side of the bed and showed her the long silk cords that had held back the drapes. He moved to one ankle and secured it with the rope and then pulled the cord up to the top of the bedpost, tying it there tightly above one rounded knob so it wouldn't slip down the post. He moved to the other ankle and did the same. Lavinia's legs were now suspended in the air and spread apart. Her hips were raised by the pillows. She had tried to call out behind the gag, but the sounds were muffled. He stood back to look at her again. She had never felt so humiliated. She knew he could see everything, her most intimate places. She turned her face away and heard him laugh.

"You've had your punishment, Miss Lavinia. Now, it's time for us both to have a little fun. Don't worry. I'm not like you. I won't hog all the pleasure for myself."

He sat down on the bed next to her and she could see him looking down at her face and body, appraising her. The room was still quite dark, lit only by his candle and he raised it above her with his left hand, over her breasts. His face was cast into complete shadow, but she heard his breathing begin to come faster and his right hand moved to her left breast. He began to rhythmically squeeze. He pushed her breast up, almost under her chin, and then he abruptly let go and slapped the side of it lightly a couple of times, watching it bounce a little.

"Miss Lavinia, I've always thought you had very nice tits. And they are nice, firm and soft. At least, this one is. Let's see how the other one feels. With his words, he put the candle back on the table. She knew that he could still see quite clearly even with the indirect light, and now he was using both hands, squeezing and kneading both of her breasts. To her shame, she was starting to feel a pleasurable ache down deep in her abdomen. Her nipples were peaking against his palms. He laughed deep in his throat and he began to play with her left nipple, while still rubbing and squeezing her other breast. His fingers plucked at the hard dark pink center. She could feel her aureola puckering and the nipple growing even firmer. He pinched and tugged. A little moan escaped her. He pinched a little harder, rolling the nipple between his fingers and then pulling sharply and releasing it. He moved to the right nipple and gave it the same treatment, but this time, his mouth came down on her left nipple and she felt him draw her into his mouth, applying suction and moving his tongue around and across the swollen peak, even as he pinched and plucked at her right nipple with his cruel fingers. She didn't want to feel what she was feeling. She felt her body arch up involuntarily. He moved his mouth to her right nipple, again sucking, licking, biting down gently.

She moaned again, this time with unsatisfied need, as he moved away from her. He saw him move to stand at the foot of the bed, between her upraised legs. He had the candle in his hand again and she felt its warmth as he bent down and moved closer to look her. He was holding the flame only inches from her body. She felt so exposed. She could barely shift her weight against the cords that held her in place. Her feet were planted against the bedposts and she had enough support for them that she didn't feel too uncomfortable. But no one had ever looked at her between her legs and the embarrassment of having it be a mere footman who was staring down at her naked cleft was horrifying. And yet, there was still that dull ache of pleasure, now magnified somehow, in spite of or because of her humiliation.

He knelt on the bed between her legs. His left hand moved to her flat stomach and began to move downward to where her hips were raised by the pillows. When he reached the dark thatch of public hair that covered her sex, he twisted his fingers into the damp curls and tugged gently. Another little sound escaped her through the gag. He laughed and moved his hand lower, his fingers sliding between the folds and crevices of her body. She could feel how wet she was, the ease of the way his fingers were moving, almost frictionless, against her. A pressure was building. She was moving toward something and every moment was becoming more intensely pleasurable.

He moved away again and she thought she would have begged him to return if the gag had not been in place, begged him to continue touching her, even though she couldn't believe that she could feel such desire connected with a near stranger--and a servant to boot. But he only put the candle back on the table and returned to his place. He began touching her again, using both hands, spreading her apart, pinching the lips of her sex together. She could barely move against the ropes, but she felt herself straining to push her hips up to meet his touch. His fingers came down against the little nub just at the top of her cleft and he began to rub in a gentle circular motion. The pleasure was now so intense that Lavinia felt dizzy and disoriented. Everything in the world was centered upon the sensations he was creating in her. She felt that she would explode.

"I believe you want something, Miss. You know that it is the part of a good servant to serve his employer. I'm going to give you exactly what you want. I can't wait to get inside that little twat and feel it clenching around my cock." His words were so crude and yet she didn't care at the moment what he was saying. She wanted him to keep touching her, wanted something she couldn't identify.

And then he moved away again. She was murmuring against the gag, but the words came out as a garbled groan. He was doing something, she thought she heard the sound of fabric rustling. He was undressing. And now he was kneeling on the bed between her legs and now he was lowering his body onto hers. He was naked against her! She felt the hard smoothness of his erection against her wet and swollen sex. She felt him press slightly into her and pause. She arched against him, wanting him to be inside her more than she had ever wanted anything. It hurt a little bit. She was a virgin at the age of nineteen like all of the unmarried women of her acquaintance. She heard horror stories about marital act, but she knew now that those tales were lies. At least, she felt that even the pain and degradation she had experienced at the hand of this insolent footman were more than made up for by these unbelievable sensations. He he thrust into her. It hurt, and she cried out. He stopped for a moment, waiting for her body to adjust to him, and then the pain was gone and she wanted more. She was full but unsatisfied. As he began to move inside her the pleasure built again. Again, she lost all sense of time and place and cared only about the inexorably mounting intensity of the pleasure she was experiencing. His breath was coming faster, hot against her neck. And then her body rose and contracted simultaneously. She was vaguely aware that her body was convulsing against his and she heard her own voice, high and incoherent although still muffled by the gag. And just as she began to come back to herself, he moved harder and deeper into her and again, she felt a frission of pleasure that seemed almost to bring release and then again and again the sky exploded as he continued moving against and inside her. Then she felt him pause and shudder against her as he filled her with his seed. He collapsed onto her, his weight heavy on her body, no longer supported by his arms and knees.

She began to realize what she had done. Even though he had given her no choice it would be impossible to pretend that she hadn't enjoyed it. She turned her head and felt tears running down into her hair. He untied the gag and she bit her lip against a rising sob. She refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing how disgraced she now felt. He untied her feet and gently placed her ankles down on the bed. She felt him slide the pillows out from under her and heard them land softly against the carpeted floor. He moved up to the top of the bed and untied her arms. She winced when he lowered her wrists to her sides. The blood rushed back into them and she almost cried out. He rubbed her wrists and then stepped into the shadows. He was silent and she hoped he would just go away. He was dressing, she thought, although it was hard to see much in the candlelight. He'd be gone tomorrow, she vowed. She'd have him fired and he'd have to leave and she'd never see him again and she'd be able to forget that anything had ever happened. But then he spoke.

"Well, Miss Lavinia, you are a very passionate woman. I would never have thought I would enjoy your company so much."

She couldn't trust herself to reply. There were no words for the anger and misery she felt and she was afraid of revealing with audible sobs how well he had succeeded in humiliating her.

"You and I will have many such experiences in the future. And if you continue to treat me in the same patronizing and callous way you have done, you will be similarly punished each time. In fact, from now on, I believe I will welcome your condescending attitude, since I will know what will come later."

She was aware that her voice betrayed her, but she couldn't remain silent. "You will leave this house tomorrow. I'll have my mother fire you. You'll never touch me again. I'll have you sent to prison for what you've done. Hutton will see the bruises and she'll support what I say."

"Hutton has a fair idea of what just happened between us. We planned it between us. She loved the idea of you getting a taste of the kind of treatment you hand out to all of your servants. But you won't say anything anyway. Oh no, that would cause a scandal. I know that reputation is the most important thing to the upper classes and that your parents would never for a moment allow word to get out that your servant had had his wicked way with you. And that's exactly why I will continue to be your lover and why you will never say a word to your mother or anyone else. If you try to have me dismissed, I'll start spreading the word immediately about how you seduced your footman. And I'll mention that little mole on the inside of your thigh and the dimple on the left side of your pretty little ass and I'll be believed."