A Note for the Reader:
This story is set in the Southern United States a few hundred years ago. It is purely a work of fantasy/ fiction, and is in no way an accurate representation of this era.
All characters involved in sexual situations are 18 years of age or older.
The following events pick up where Part I ends.
The following evening was much cooler, and the fire Edward built that night was warm and crackling. Ellie entered with a pretty curtsy, and began to assemble his bathing items while the male slaves filled his tub with hot water. He read a novel while he waited, and surreptitiously watched Ellie move about in her new cotton uniform. The shift stopped just above her elbows and just below her knees, and was the perfect thickness. She looked modest enough now, but once the front of the shift got wet, he'd be able to practically see her naked again.
"Sir? It's ready whenever you would like to start." Ellie's voice called sweetly across the room to him. Edward stood and undressed, draping his clothing across his reading chair. He crossed the room naked, enjoying the look on Ellie's face as she fought to keep her eyes away from his cock as it woke. He was pleased with the temperature as he lowered himself into the tub, and made sure to tell her. "I am glad, Sir," she murmured in reply.
He splashed her immediately upon entering the tub, soaking her front to the waist. He started small talk with her as she scrubbed his back and shoulders. They discussed her work for the day, and he learned that her older brother had been hired at Anne Deveraux's -
Anne Francis, I suppose,
he mentally corrected - new estate, the one she had moved to when she married.
When Ellie finished washing his midsection, she hesitated, soaping up the washcloth excessively. She steeled herself to continue. As she lowered her hand towards his upright member, Edward cracked open an eye. "Why don't you skip that for now? Do my legs and feet first." Ellie was more than happy to put it off a bit longer.
He was hardly even dirty, and more quickly than she had anticipated, she was back at IT.
It's just a cock. It's only his cock.
Ellie washed his heavy balls under the water. Edward watched her through half-lidded eyes. Her hands were ever so soft, and they felt so pleasant on his sensitive skin.
Ellie slowly slid her soapy hands up his hard shaft. She gently retracted his foreskin, rubbing her fingertips across the entireity of his exposed cockhead. Edward bit back a noise. Ellie stroked up and down his length, loosing her self in the repetitiveness of the motion. His cock throbbed beneath her gentle ministrations.
She remembered herself after a while and slowed to a stop.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled as she flushed.
"I didn't stop you because I would like you to keep doing that." Edward's eyes pierced her.
She hesitated.
"Now, please, Ellie. It's very important."
Ellie nodded, wrapping her hands around him again.
"So...should I just keep doing like I was?"
"Yes. That was perfect," Edward responded softly. "And I'll let you know when to cease." He grabbed an extra washcloth and held it in his hand as he lay back to enjoy Ellie's attentions.
You are his chambermaid. It is your duty to help him in such things,
Ellie told herself over and over. She was completely unaware of the show she made - her thin shift sticking wetly to her pretty tits as she stroked her master's hard cock for him. Edward was enjoying the performance, even more so for her innocence.
And Ellie realized that she felt very, very powerful. The very act of bathing another person was intimate in and of itself - and here Edward Kendrick was trusting her even with his most vulnerable and sensitive parts. Entrusting her with his pleasure. She smiled softly at the thought.
Watching her smile while she rubbed his cock was more than Edward could handle. He suddenly stiffened with a groan. Ellie obediently continued to work his shaft until he motioned her away, spurting his creamy load in the washcloth.
He handed it to her for the laundry, and Ellie was shocked by the volume of fluid.
He is very masculine,
she thought to herself as she finished readying him for sleep. She took a moment to admire his attractiveness as she pulled the covers to his bare chest.
When a naked Ellie climbed into her own bed a short while later, she found herself unusually restless. When she closed her eyes she was back in Edward's room, rubbing and stroking his long thick cock. She wondered what it would be like to make love to him. She found her fingers gliding to her puffy nipples, gently tweaking them. She moaned softly, taking one hand to wind between her legs, into the wetness that had been gathering since Edward had asked her to keep stroking him. She had never had the privacy to explore her own body - she had always shared a room with her family or other servants and slaves. She felt giddy at the opportunity. She explored her pussy for a while, but returned to pull at her sensitive nipples.
Perhaps I will take a bath this week, and have some personal time then,
she mused as she drew her nipples to erection. She moaned again, and then froze.
Edward is right next door. He will surely hear me.
It would be humiliating, and she might lose her job. She reluctantly stopped touching herself and settled in to go to sleep.
In the bed on the other side of the wall, Edward was smiling. He'd heard her. The first time, he thought that he was imagining things. But he'd stayed quiet and still, listening. The second moan was unmistakable. He wondered what she was doing. He remembered when he'd seen her exposed before - by the springhouse, and in the doctor's cottage. He wondered if she was squeezing her sweet tits, or working one of her long slim fingers into her wet center.
He fell asleep smiling.
The next two nights were much the same: Ellie stroked Edward to a climax, then found herself in bed touching herself but afraid to allow it to progress. She was very frustrated.
Then it was Sunday, Ellie's day off. She'd found an old wooden bathing tub, cleaned and claimed it. That morning, she hauled it up to her room just after dawn, barring the door behind her. She carried up buckets of water and poured most of them into several kettles over the fire, undressing while they heated.
She lay on her bed, nude and excited. She breathed in deeply, slowly running her hands across her body. She caressed her smooth shoulders, cupped and squeezed her breasts, traced the indent of her small waist on each side. Ellie spread her thighs aparts, pressing her fingers down through her blonde curls to the soft, wet flesh beneath. She traced her finger in a circle around her stiffening clit as she fought to keep her pleasure from escaping in a vocal fashion. "Oooh," she whimpered softly, pressing her face into the pillow. Something was about to happen, she could feel it. She felt so close to something....and then she was there, and moaning as her thighs clamped tightly around her fingers. It took her a few minutes to come down again.
Once she'd gathered herself, the water was ready to be poured and Ellie slipped into the steaming hot water for a leisurely bath. She was going to visit her mother today. Her brother was starting a new job, but hopefully she would be able to see him for breakfast before he left.
She dressed quickly in a new pale green cotton dress. It had a pretty eyelet hemline. Edward had given her money to buy clothes - he said that her appearance reflected upon him, and that she needed to dress as such. She had dutifully gone to the store and bought two dresses for everyday wear. She had spent two days pay on each dress, but Ellie thought it was worth it. She'd never had anything nice before, and besides, she even had money left over. Edward had told her to keep the change and spend it as she saw fit.
She finished by pinning her hair into a smooth bun beneath her bonnet. And finally, she slipped the leftover cash into her shoe. Her mother would be happy to have some money to buy food, and the house needed some leaks fixed before the cold set in.
************ **************
David, Ellie's older brother, was hard at work this particular day. His father had noticed and encouraged his affinity for horses from an early age, so David had become quite proficient in training them. John Francis, Anne Deveraux's new husband, had acquired a fine new stallion he wanted to stud, but the beast had proven to be highly unruly. David had been more than happy to hire on to work with the animal at John's request. It was his second week working with the stallion, and the horse showed a noticeable change in temperament - but only with David. He assured John that in time, Sultan would be much calmer with everyone.
Anne watched from the window of her dressing room as David brushed the grey stallion. They were a pair of beautiful specimens, the horse and the shirtless young man. He was beautifully muscled, with broad shoulders and powerful looking arms. She knew that he was black, but he had the coloring of someone much more fair. In a place where his parentage was not known, he would easily pass for white. Anne found herself wondering what color his eyes were.
"Anne?" She turned quickly at the sound of her husband's voice in the hall.
He mustn't catch me ogling the help.
She busied herself with a fistful of fabric and ribbons just before he poked his head into the room. "There you are, darling," he kissed her sweetly on the forehead and Anne felt guilty.
John was a good husband - an excellent provider, comely of face, possessed of an attractive build, and a gentle man. Her father had done his best to arrange a good, stable match for her. When she met John, he had gazed at her chest for a moment longer than proper. It reminded her of Edward, and caused her to be hopeful.
But Anne soon found John to be the dullest man she had ever met. She had looked forward to the sex that would come with marriage, and was highly disappointed. Despite being a virgin on her wedding day, she had experienced sensual encounters, and expected that intercourse with her husband would be even more thrilling than those. John, however, was anything but thrilling.
On their wedding night, he crawled on top of her. They kissed deeply as John touched her body. Just as Anne felt her moisture beginning to seep, John pressed his cockhead to her opening, easing it in. She was just wet enough. She had hoped that he might kiss and lick her sensitive nipples, but he was set on the end point. He slid in slowly, mindful of her virginity. She gasped when he bottomed out on her cervix, clenching involuntarily.
