by Ashe Barker
“Thank you, sir. I think.”
Piers moves in closer behind me. He is looking over my shoulder, watching my efforts closely. He trails his fingertips across my throat, displacing the neckline of my borrowed gown. “This is a fine garment, little maid. It would be a pity to get it wet.”
“Sir?”
“May I?” He loosens the clasp at my shoulder to release the front of the dress. It gaps forward, revealing the upper swell of my breasts should he look closely. I have no doubt he will. They both will.
I turn my head to look up at him. He smiles at me, drops another quick kiss on my lips, than slips his hand inside the bodice of my loosened gown.
It is my turn to moan as he caresses my breast, then takes my nipple between his fingers. He squeezes it, tugs at the pebbling nub until I hiss, though whether with pleasure or pain I could not say. He lowers his face to mine again.
“You have stopped concentrating on your task, little maid. You would not wish me to punish you again, surely?”
His words should terrify me. I have sufficient experience of his discipline to fear it. But I am not scared, far from it. My quim clenches, moisture of my own gathering between my legs. I shift on my knees, seeking a comfortable position, yet finding none.
“Ah, sweet wench, such strange feelings, yes?”
“Yes, sir,” I whisper. “I am not sure…”
“You will be, I promise. But for now, my brother grows impatient.”
My hands are still on Ralf, still gripping his rod and cupping his heavy balls but I have been distracted by the powerful sensations surging through me at Piers’ unexpected touch. I renew my efforts as Piers continues to offer his gentle instructions.
As he does so, he strokes my breasts, bringing both nipples to swollen, throbbing hardness. My quim is wet, my inner channel spasming as I yearn for something more, something delightful and wicked and forbidden. Something I can but dimly imagine.
“Faster, little one. Almost there.” Piers urges me on as Ralf groans and thrusts his hips upwards. I am filled with a sense of power and it is heady, indeed, to observe the effect I have on this man. On both these men. Piers buries his face in my neck, nibbling at my flesh as he circles my nipples with his skilled fingers. He is no longer hurting me, though I wish he would. I yearn for the intensity of the sensation, the sweet bite of his touch.
“Please, sir, I…”
“Soon, love. Do not stop. Harder now.”
I obey and with a sudden jolt and a muttered oath, Ralf’s balls contract in my fingers and a long white ribbon of his seed spurts across the back of my hand. It is the first time I have witnessed such an event. It startles me, the heat of the fluid a surprise, too, though perhaps it should not be.
“Keep going. Just a few more strokes but slower now.” Piers’ breath is warm on my cheek as he murmurs his final instructions. I relax my grip but keep the strokes long and even as several more spurts of semen erupt from Ralf’s cock. His features are contorted in apparent pain, though even in my naivety, I know better.
At last he relaxes. I look to Piers for confirmation that all is well. He smiles at me. “Good girl. You can let go now and you may wash your hands if you wish.”
I glance at Ralf, who winks at me. I giggle as I swill the pearly semen from my fingers in the bathwater. It is as much a nervous reaction as genuine amusement.
Piers is still cupping my breast in his palm. He squeezes to gain my attention. “Less levity, little maid. You still have work to do.”
I stiffen and his touch gentles once more. “Do I?”
“Aye. You will attend my bath now, if you please.”
“Oh?” I look to Ralf for confirmation. He is rising from the tub.
“Pass me a towel, Linnet. Then you may assist Piers in disrobing.”
Ah, I see. I find I can summon no real objection to this curious turn of events. Piers releases my breast and withdraws his hand so I am able to get to my feet and find a towel from among the linens stored in the chest. I return and hold it out to Ralf. “Should I perform the same services for your brother, my lord?”
He takes the towel and wraps it around his lower body. “Do you wish to?”
“I think I would like that, my lord, if you do not object.”
“I do not. Indeed, I believe I might continue your education.”
“Thank you, my lord.” I have no notion at all what that might entail but I am eager to learn. I am finding this tutelage a most fascinating business.
Chapter Eight
Piers calls for more hot water to be brought and the dirty, cooling bathwater to be removed. The process takes several minutes, during which time I sit in silence on the bed. The servants who haul the pails upstairs seem unsurprised by my presence here. When the tub is full once more I assist Piers in removing his clothing, pausing to fold each item carefully. The garments are soiled from the hunt and will doubtless be taken away by his servants to be laundered but I place them neatly upon a chair even so. As he strides over to the tub, I stand, my head bowed but not so much as to impede my view of his impressive cock. My modesty is fast evaporating.
Piers also sports a formidable cockstand, presumably in my honour. The knowledge pleases me.
“Shall I wash your back also, my lord?”
Piers stops before me and tips my chin up with his fingertips. “Not quite yet, little wench. First, I want you to remove this gown.”
“Oh.” I turn toward Ralf who is lounging on the bed but Piers’ fingers tighten around my chin.
“Look at me, Linnet, when I am instructing you. And obey.” His gaze is hard, determined; he expects me to do his bidding or accept the consequences. There is nothing of Ralf’s boyish good humour in these stern features. How can anyone possibly mistake one man for the other?
“Yes, sir,” I whisper.
He releases my chin and steps back to allow me the space I need to undress. Neither man assists me but soon the amber satin is lying in a pool at my feet.
“The chemise, too.” This time it is Ralf who issues the command. I nod and pull it over my head then stand still, my arms at my sides as they both peruse my nude body.
“She is quite lovely, is she not?” enquires Ralf, his tone casual.
“Indeed so,” his brother agrees.
“Her eyes are dazzling, her mouth sheer perfection,” Ralf chooses to elaborate.
“Brother, I am sure you are correct, though I am not looking at her face at this precise moment.”
Ralf is undeterred. “Her mouth will look yet more beautiful with your cock in it, I daresay.”
“Ah, of course. How generous of you to point that out.”
“My pleasure. Linnet, would you kneel, please?”
I swallow, though my mouth has gone dry. The same mouth which is soon to be wrapped around Piers’ thick erection, it would seem. I am scared, yet incredibly aroused at the prospect. I sink slowly to my knees.
“That is good, sweetheart. Now you will hold his cock as you did mine. Use both hands, one for his balls and—ah, yes, that is correct.”
I am quick to obey as Ralf issues his instructions. I look across the room to him, seeking further help.
“Lick the head, taste him.”
I put out my tongue and run the tip across the smooth, swollen head, then slide it around the rim at the edge. The fluid weeping from the slit has a salty tang to it, musky, quite pleasant.
“Does it taste good, little wench?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then open your mouth and take as much as you can inside.”
I am eager to proceed but still I hesitate. Piers’ cock is huge. I am not entirely convinced I can manage this.
“Do not be afraid, little maid. I will not hurt you, nor will I force you to do anything you don’t wish to.” It is Piers who offers me reassurance now. I tilt back my head to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, a deep, rich ebony. He appears less stern, though the passion i
s evident in his features. His arousal is intoxicating and I am seized by a powerful urge to please him, to please them, in any way I am able. I part my lips and lean forward.
I take all of the head at once. It fills my mouth and I have to breathe through my nose. Piers’ fingers are in my hair, smoothing it back from my face but not applying any force. I look up at him again from my position at his feet.
He nods, offers me a tight smile, then closes his eyes.
“Explore with your tongue and your teeth, but take care not to bite, little one. I suspect your tender bottom would pay a heavy price for such indiscretion.” Ralf has left the bed and is leaning against the wall beside the window, just beyond my line of sight.
I take his advice and swirl my tongue around the head of Piers’ manhood, then experiment with scraping my teeth along the shaft. Piers hisses his approval and his fingers tighten in my hair.
“Suck on it. At the same time pump your hand up and down on the shaft, just slowly at first.”
Ralf is closer now, just behind me. I do as he tells me, encouraged by the moan of appreciation from above. I hollow my cheeks, swallowing hard to increase the pressure.
Piers growls at me, his hips starting to move in small, determined thrusts. He relaxes his grip on my hair though and I am able to set my own pace. “Fuck, girl…” he mutters.
I start to bob my head up and down, curling my tongue around the solid, flaring head as I do so. Footsteps behind me let me know that Ralf is close but still I am startled by the touch of his hands, both of them resting on my shoulders. He squeezes, then crouches behind me.
“You are doing well, little one. Please, do not let me distract you.” He proceeds to achieve exactly that by running his hands up and down my ribcage, skimming the sides of my breasts with his fingers. He leans in to trail a succession of light kisses across my back. “So sweet, such an obedient little bride. You learn well, sweetheart.”
I am in no position to respond but seek to demonstrate my compliance by lifting my shoulders to better receive his kisses.
“You like this?”
I manage a small nod, then resume my work on Piers’ engorged cock. He is thrusting against my mouth now and I find it not unpleasant at all. I manage to open wider and take more of him. The head of his erection nudges the back of my throat though and I start to gag. He backs off immediately. “Sorry, sweet maid. Too fast.”
“You have earned a reward, I believe. Would you like your prize, little one?”
I am puzzled but nod again. A reward sounds to be a pleasant prospect.
“Shall I touch you, I wonder? Would you like that, Linnet?”
Another small nod. It is the most I can manage just now.
“Here, perhaps?” Ralf reaches around to cup my breast, rubbing his palm over my swollen nipple. It feels incredible and I gasp my pleasure.
“Ah, yes, I see you find that pleasing. Such pretty breasts. But what about this? Do you like me to touch your lovely derrière, too, sweetheart?” He slides his hand down my body to demonstrate.
My buttocks and thighs still bear the marks from yesterday’s punishment but the slight discomfort as he presses his palm against my flesh is erotic and sensual rather than painful. My perspective is shifting along with my modesty, it would seem.
“Or perhaps here…” Ralf slides his hand between my legs to caress my quim and I lurch forward. No one has ever touched me there. I have occasionally fumbled myself but lacking skill or experience I had no idea what I was doing, what I might be attempting to achieve. Ralf is hindered by no such limitations and proceeds to swipe his palm through my delicate, sensitive folds. His breath whispers across my neck as he leans forward to speak to me.
“Have a care, my love. Do not sink your teeth into my brother in your ecstasy.”
I am trying hard not to but Ralf does not make any of this easy for me. He probes, caresses, teases, stroking the lips of my quim, then slowly easing one long finger inside me.
Oh, dear Lord. It feels so good. I have never imagined, never dreamed…
I lift my bottom up at his urging, offering him better access. I am pleading, silent, unsure what it is he might do to me, for me but I know I want it. Need it.
“Linnet, do not stop. Piers is close. Concentrate.”
I redouble my efforts, sucking as hard as I am able and pumping my fist up and down the shaft. I know the exact moment his balls contract, ready to force his semen upward.
“Linnet, you are to swallow all of it. Do you understand?” Ralf leans in to murmur his command into my ear.
I nod and Piers fists his fingers in my hair. He is holding my head still as he thrusts but his movements are controlled, not threatening.
“Good. And after, you shall have your reward.” Ralf slides a second finger into me, alongside the first. My channel contracts, my inner walls convulsing as he strokes me.
“Now, little one. Suck hard and squeeze his balls.”
I obey, then I gag again as hot, creamy semen fills my mouth and throat.
“Swallow it, quickly. Breathe through your nose.”
Ralf’s command calms me. I work my throat hard, desperate to clear my airway. In seconds the flood is gone but only to be replaced by more, then more again. I continue to swallow each time, until the flow ceases.
Piers eases my head back, pulling his cock from my mouth. He crouches in front of me and kisses my lips.
“That was superb, little maid. I thank you.”
Superb? Can he be referring to me? “I am pleased, sir.”
“As are we.” He frames my face with his hands. “And now you have earned your reward.” He glances at Ralf and nods.
Ralf withdraws his fingers, then plunges them back inside me. I squeal, then tighten my inner walls around his digits. He twists his hand, pressing hard on the front wall. The sensation intensifies, wave after wave of pleasure washes over me. I would lower my eyes, look away but Piers is having none of that.
“Look at me. Eyes on me, little maid.”
“Oh, sir, I…”
“Allow me to help.” Piers slides his hand between my legs, from the front. He touches me, somewhere deep, some hidden, secret spot, right at my core. A spasm of white-hot lust spears me, then another. My body is shaking, on the crest of something amazing, something indescribable. I shiver and reach for Piers, needing something solid to hang onto as my world shatters.
Piers strokes me again. At the same time, Ralf shifts his fingers deep inside me. I let out a shrill cry, then another as they ramp up the pleasure beyond anything I can bear. It is enough, too much, relentless. I am spinning, weightless, every muscle in my body contracting hard, then relaxing after the climax crests.
I am grasping Piers’ shoulders, my fingernails digging into his skin. Ralf is speaking to me, murmuring his quiet encouragement still, offering reassurance, permission to surrender.
I do, sagging forward to be caught in Piers’ embrace. I lean against him, my breasts pressing against his firm chest as the final ripples of pleasure flow from my core to my limbs and eventually subside.
Ralf slides his fingers from my body and stands up. Moments later a soft blanket drapes my shoulders and Piers lifts me from the floor.
“You may have a few minutes to relax and recover, then I shall expect you to wash my back, little wench.”
“Yes, sir,” I murmur. In that moment, I would have promised him anything at all.
* * *
“I have dispatched a messenger to the priest who performed our wedding ceremony. I anticipate he will be here within a week or so.” Ralf is seated beside me at the top table in the great hall at Egremont. Most of the household have finished their midday meal and drifted off to be about their afternoon tasks. Piers is talking to the captain of the castle guard at the other end of the hall when Ralf delivers his news to me but Piers soon concludes his business and strides back across the reed-strewn floor to join us.
“I see.�
� I lay down the knife I had been using to eat my meal and fold my hands in my lap. “He will annul our marriage, then.”
“Yes, if we ask him to. Once the circumstances are explained, I am sure he will be happy to dissolve our union. Especially as it has not been consummated.”
“Yes, my lord. That must be a great relief.” I strive to keep my tone even, to not betray the conflicting emotions this notion stirs in me.
“That is not exactly the description I would apply, Linnet. The consummation of our marriage is a prospect I find most appealing, I can assure you.” Ralf nods a greeting to his brother who has taken a seat opposite. “But in our current situation I would suggest we do have other options we might like to consider.”
“I fear I do not see any, my lord. Our marriage is void. Once that issue is settled, you will wish to take up the matter of your broken betrothal with Lady Eleanor, I expect.”
“Now, why would you expect that, Linnet? That lady has made her opinion perfectly clear.”
“As did you, my lord, in your actions at Wellesworth.” I may be stating the obvious here but I am finding his apparent ambivalence confusing to say the least.
“Matters have moved on considerably since then, little maid. I believe my brother has experienced a change of heart on that score.” Piers helps himself to the last of the wine.
I give up for the moment trying to follow the convoluted path of either man’s reasoning and instead return to the original question. “So, what do you intend to ask of the priest, then, when he arrives here? What other options have you identified?”
“We could request an annulment, of course. Or we could explain the difficulty we find ourselves in and ask Father Peter to hear our vows again, though on this occasion you would use your correct name, naturally.”
I stare at him, bemused. “You would marry me again? Even after… after…”
“I would. I am optimistic that you will find yourself able to resist the urge to do me to death at the first opportunity. Apart from anything else, I fear my brother would not permit it and by now you are well aware of the consequences which would ensue. We should make you aware though that our preferences with regard to any marriage are not entirely—orthodox.”