A Fine Profession (The Chambermaid's Tales Part One)

by Sarah Michelle Lynch

  “There are some little initiations the group might like you to take part in,” Flo said.

  “Yes?” I asked.

  “Nothing painful, just, little exercises to test your skills,” she asserted.

  “Flo, you will look after me, won't you?”

  “Of course petal, of course, but I sense you will take to this more than you imagine.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “There is one thing, though, Flo,” Mark said.

  “Ah yes…” she said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “There is something you must learn beforehand. Something… something intimate.”

  “Go on…” I said. I wondered what could be more intimate than standing naked before near-strangers and preparing to be probed by other people.

  “I'll show you,” Flo decided. “That shall be easier.” She nodded at Mark.

  Mark unfastened the parts of Florence's corset that were locked and she sat on the edge of a roll-top bath nearby. She spread her legs. She had a tiny little pussy. It was pink, slim, and shaved bare like mine was. It resembled a flower on a spring morning, ready for a shower of rain to quench her thirst. How Mark could loan her out, I did not know. She was lovely, even I could see that. Why would he want anyone else? My own pussy was deep-red and thick with layers of quilt. Perhaps that made for a better, more accommodating home for his extra-large cock. Mark bent down and started licking her slit. She lifted her feet to his shoulders and begged for him to release her nipples, so he unclasped those too. Being freed instantly aroused her and they moaned together. She fondled her own breasts and her womanhood became exceedingly wet. I could hear Mark's lapping.

  Flo gasped, almost at the point of orgasm. She pushed Mark's tongue toward her hidden depths and explained, “At this moment, Lottie, I am very close. I am resisting. I know that if I resist, I will be in for a bigger payday.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “I can feel the pulses in my cunt sponge, darling. I am so eager to cum and yet I abstain. I do so for one reason. Mark… oh Mark,” she gasped, panting.

  He moved away and placed his fingers inside her, right up to the knuckle. He massaged her cunt and flicked his fingers in and out, hitting the clit every now and again.

  She described to me every feeling she had.

  “Lottie, my angel, I can feel the hot whispers of desire. I want to cum. I am stopping myself. I feel if I let myself go, if I break my concentration, I will orgasm with or without touch. With or without… my body is on the edge of surrender.”

  Mark moved away from her altogether to observe and let me see too. Flo was red and furious with impending delight. Her hand reached down instinctually and she touched her clitoris, mashing and grinding the flesh with her fingers.

  “Lottie… ah… ah… I am stopping… I am stopping. I am holding my muscles tight. I am straining. I am… ee… oh… mon amour… mon amour… non, non… je t’aime.”

  She kept her gaze fixed on Mark and I knew that his presence alone could arouse her to the point of crisis, without any intervention on his or her part. She really loved him, I could tell. Some more minutes passed. I watched eagerly, waiting to see what trick she had in store. Mark rubbed his cock a little as he watched her. He would need to fuck one of us afterward, I knew.

  “I am so close, so close…” she said.

  She started moaning deeply, from the pits of her belly, shuddering and shaking. She could barely hold herself steady on the edge of the bath. She bucked into her fingers and she said, “I want to piss, I want to piss, I want to… ah ooh uh, uh, uh, ooh,” she screamed.

  I watched as stream after stream spurted out of her. The multiple female orgasm. I had read about it. As soon as she was done, Mark threw her body on the floor and sunk his savage cock inside her. He fucked her mercilessly. She was so sensitive she had to grit her teeth. She clung onto his shoulders and wailed. I lay right next to them, unable to stop myself. They were a hot couple and I was easily aroused. I touched my pussy and did as she had, stopping at every point I wanted to cum before recommencing. When the impulse became unbearable, I used my palm to massage my pussy raw. When I was taken by intense desire, I pushed down hard in my groin, and the musky squirt came, maybe twice. Mark watched with animalistic yearning and he shot his load into Florence as soon as he saw my desire spew forth. We all lay there in a heap afterward, before climbing in the shower together. Florence and I kissed for a while. I was turned on by her simply because she was a sexual being and so was I. I touched her breasts and it was pleasant, but I much preferred the feel of a man's hard, furry chest against mine. She showed me how best to arouse a lover with kisses and Mark groaned in the background. I was aroused to see him watching us. He must have thought himself the luckiest fucker on the planet. We all took great care in washing our genitalia clean afterward.

  She and Mark dressed me in some of the things I had brought. They decided on a black satin basque that had hooks at the front, with matching thong and suspenders, plus some simple black stockings and a white frilly pinny of Flo's that might make me look like the woman I in fact was. I was handed a white feather duster and they painted my lips dark red and my eyes with thick black eyeliner. My kitten heels were even decorated with feathers too in fact. My hair was slicked back and when I saw myself in the mirror, it was as though I was looking at a separate person. I decided that all the other women out there must have known of this secret all this time and I had simply been missing it: that all we need do is dress and preen according to the situation and we would be prepared for anything. For, in wearing this battle armour, one could convince oneself of anything perhaps. Flo lent me one of her huge capes to cover me up and we made our way out to their car. Flo was of course in her usual leather get-up beneath her layers and Mark donned a black silk robe reminiscent of those things academics wore. It was not at all flattering but was perhaps traditional, I imagined, and allowed for quick access from the front. He was entirely naked beneath and wore some kind of soft leather slippers. He and I sat in the backseat behind tinted windows.

  The couple did not explain much in the car. They said it was best that I simply remain ignorant, so that I'd experience the initiation as innocently and as uninformed as possible. If I went with any predetermined ideas or notions, they felt sure the whole process would not work as well or have as much of an effect on me.

  Flo drove us out into the countryside and they asked me to don a blindfold after a certain point, stating that if I should decide not to be part of this sect after all, they would prefer to keep their secrecy. Outside the vehicle, I heard the crunch of a long farmer's track beneath the wheels and detected the sounds of birds chirruping and crickets humming. We had obviously ventured deep into Sherwood Forest, to a hidden, remote place not easily travelled to. I heard other vehicles, like ours, slowly snaking their way up the drive to wherever it was we were going.

  Mark removed the blindfold when we were almost there. I blinked through a fog of returning vision before seeing a very large, elegant, almost stately, wooden lodge up ahead in the distance. We were parked in a long queue of vehicles waiting to be shown into the grounds. Flo prepared some invitations for inspection in the front seat.

  The retreat was in the style of a Georgian manor house but built entirely from rich, dark-red wood, possibly cedar or oak. I had never seen the like before. A staircase with a carved balustrade led guests up between huge pillars that might have actually been transplanted tree trunks. There were tall windows with large, modern chandeliers glistening inside. It was strange to see such a place existing amidst such thick greenery. The building itself hadn't any gardens, for it was surrounded by enough landscape without any of its own. I imagined a natural lake may lay at the back or even a bowling green or a swimming pool, for this did seem like the creation of some billionaire with more money than sense, and with a definite obsession for this period. Whoever owned the property was also trying to hide it from prying eyes,
clearly.

  “Okay, little Lottie,” Mark said, in his rugged Nottinghamshire tones. His was the deep, generous voice of a man from working class stock made good, him being a lead archivist at the Nottingham Archives but the grandson of a miner. “When we go in, we shall see everything the house has on offer and we shall, at first, observe until the Grandmaster calls to give us his audience. He always likes to meet new members and ensure you're suitable. You'll be asked to undergo some of the rites and then if successful, you'll be marked and allowed to go about your business. Do you oblige?”

  “Yes,” I said. I didn't feel like there was any reason to be afraid. All the other vehicles waiting to approach were expensive makes and models, carrying occupants that looked well-heeled and civilised. Flo and Mark were strange characters but I knew none inside could be much stranger. My friends were quite a pretty couple but I did not fancy either of them, not like that. Not like Alex. Not like when you only need look at someone once to know you are insatiably and fundamentally attracted to them, body and soul. No, Flo was a woman and I was hetero to the last. Mark was a bit too dark-haired for my liking, though he had a big cock and a good physique. He could seem very handsome sometimes in a certain light but he was just, I don't know, not my cup of tea.

  When we eventually got inside, Flo and I checked our capes and Mark remained in his robes. We mingled in with those who were dressed like us and we certainly didn't draw attention any more than any other attendees.

  Flo explained, “The building is owned by a co-operative of sorts and maintained through various events, including masked balls. Tonight is for the more elite members and their special guests, of course.”

  “What do you call it?” I asked.

  “Hambleton Lodge,” Mark replied.

  I nodded and tried to keep my gaze in check as bodies of various sizes and ages slipped by us. I didn't feel remotely self-conscious because of the way in which Mark and Flo reassured me. We were having a glass of wine in the vast reception hall before heading further into the retreat.

  Mark seemed to be one of the most recognised guests. He received a few nods from others and doffed his invisible cap. I thought perhaps he had gained some sort of reputation in that pleasure dome… I decided that he must have some talents outside of his obvious ability to carry out a thorough fucking. He had snared a woman as intelligent and talented as Flo… Their relationship intrigued me and yet it would be a while yet before I understood it.

  A bell was rung and everyone began leaving the waiting area. Blinds were brought down over the windows all around and lights were dimmed. Men dressed in leather uniforms lit dozens of candelabra that streamed throughout the whole building. Everywhere was then tinged by flickering low-lighting. A deep, almost hibiscus, scent was present wherever you went and it was apparent the floors were regularly polished. There was little decoration in that house save for the ornate ceiling carvings, large beams and luxurious wood-panelled walls with forest creatures acting as fixtures for the gloomy lighting.

  Dreamy, seductive chimes that were barely noticeable drifted through the halls and acted as an almost silent background to the quietly chatting, nodding guests. It really did seem to be some sort of reverent gathering place for the sexually uninhibited. I felt an outsider, truly. I sought eyes that were assessing me but there were none. Everyone else seemed poised and unreserved. I had expected to be treated as an interloper perhaps but I was just as any other ‒ a body there for pleasure. I did not get myself noticed in my underwear, even. I mingled in. We were all sparingly dressed, even most men. Maybe that was why Mark wore the gown, as a sign of his prestigious ranking in the hierarchy of that place.

  His voice broke my thoughts. “When we go further inside, do not be surprised by what you see. This is only where people like us find freedom to express ourselves as we wish. It's all mutual and all enjoyable. We shall let the evening run as naturally as possible.”

  “Okay,” I responded, and with the anticipation of a student heading for an exam, I was led into the realms of this so-called pleasure-sphere.

  We first walked through a banqueting hall that was for group sex. Flo quietly explained that no loiterers were allowed in that chamber; everyone had to be engaged in some sort of act unless passing through. It was simple etiquette. Spectating was not allowed. The Sapphic chambers (in a library) were of course for perusal and we did indeed wander around, observing the women all enjoying themselves and each other. It was quite mesmerising. I felt this was not for me, however.

  There were other chambers, occupying various other rooms in the house, and these were singled out for separate pursuits such as spanking, bondage, fellatio and masturbation. Whatever your specifications, they were catered for in those rooms, which were all marked above the door so that guests knew where to find their pleasure. I will not list all the chambers now, for they will surely all be quite imaginable and some might even creep into this tale later on…

  I will say, however, that the gallery in the centre of the building captured my imagination. Inside this place, were men and woman positioned as if furniture. Men naked with arms held aloft, grasping vases or candelabra. Women bound and on all fours, with plates of fruit on their backs. Others of indiscernible gender stood as still as statues with full leatherwear on. I was given by Flo to realise that the men flitting about with silver sheriff-type badges attached to their leather vests were the valets or servant boys who acted as aides throughout the night. In this gallery I noticed there were curtains, the like of which I'd seen in art galleries, marking the way for something beneath to be unveiled. One of the valets came to pull the drawstring of one such piece of art, and behind the glaze that was revealed, I was told, was one of the more private chambers that couples used to invite other couples or singletons in with them. The chambers lined the gallery and gave spectators all manner of obscenities to behold at their pleasure, according to the valet's choices of which curtains they drew. Soon, more windows were revealed and more scenes of debauchery drew the attention of those circling in the galleries.

  I was drawn by the sight of a woman being dealt with by two men simultaneously. It seemed a tricky sport to me but she somehow accommodated both fellows. A hand cupped my elbow and Florence whispered, “It's time.”

  I was led to a room in the quieter, more private section of the house upstairs. The wooden sign above the door signalled Bukkake.

  The heavy wooden door shut and was locked, and I realised it was only Florence and I in the room.

  “May I tie you to this bed?” she said.

  It was a wooden slab more like, with belt holds. I nodded because she bore no fear in her eye, so why should I have done? I lay on the table and she buckled me at my wrists and ankles. She slipped the shoes off my feet and asked, “May I loosen this a little?” and I nodded, before she proceeded to unhook the top of my basque so that my breasts swelled out with the nipples on show. I panted in shock but when a door at the other side of the room opened and five naked men entered, I had no time to protest. One of them was unmistakably Mark, though they were all wearing gimp masks. They all stood around the table at equidistant spots and many of the men's penises were already swollen.

  “This is Lottie gentlemen, a rather innocent child of light who is still learning. As you can see, she is pleasing to the eye and responsive to the touch. She is here to find out more about pleasure, for pleasure it is that she seeks. She is delicate but likes to dominate, so she told me. Perhaps, I'd hazard, she might even prove a good switch, for I'm sure she'd obey an adequate cock.”

  All around me were men and their weapons and their singular scents that I could not distinguish, with their pheromones swirling about the room. Mark's familiar manhood was large and was slow to reach full throttle, but others were quicker. Whichever way I looked, all I saw was cock. A tiny one peered out beneath a large man's belly to my right, while a delightfully full black cock threatened to touch my feet at the end of the bed. At my head was Mark, while to my left stood what seem
ed like twins; two men built like rugby players and hardly an ounce of difference in musculature between them. These two and their thick swords were what drew most of my attention, and when they started rubbing themselves, I had nowhere to look. The fat man disturbed me, the black cock was too much and made me feel giddy, and I felt Mark's was too big to stare at without showing some disdain for its veiny structure.

  When they all started rubbing themselves in unison, I tried to close my eyes in horror, but Flo bade me re-open them.

  “I've experienced Lottie's pleasures and they are great,” Mark said, shuffling his hand gently around his own manhood.

  “I bet,” I heard another say. “Flo, let's have her blown open. Let's see if she can achieve the work on her own.”

  “As you wish.”

  Florence stood beside the fat man and opened my basque all the way down. She whipped it from beneath me and left me open to all the eyes of the men in there. I was panting with shock and dare not look at myself. I felt the cold air on my breasts and stomach and felt more naked than ever before. I heard the delighted gasps from some of the men however and they grew more enthusiastic in their play. Florence then took a small knife out of a drawer behind Mark and moved back toward me to slice the thong I wore at either side of my hips. She pulled it down from under me so I was only left with stockings, suspenders and the little white pinny which sat higher up on my waist.

  I hadn't realised but the table was designed with adjustable parts and Florence held her hands at my ankles, before unclipping the underside of the bed and pushing two bits of wood apart. I was splayed as far as was comfortably possible.

  “Arouse her a little,” someone instructed.

  Florence moved to my side again and bent over to start teasing my nipples. I couldn't help but moan. She knew just how to ensure I was dealt with. I looked up at the ceiling and arched my back, my breasts pointing upward and my hips offered to the gods.