Maid Service

by Peter Birch

  “… was a honey trap, I know,” Peter finished for him. “Chloe Thompson has nothing to do with this. But as for Gemma and Laurel, please feel free to publish, although I suspect the pictures Christine took will prove to be a little strong for a family newspaper.”

  “What a very feeble bluff,” Lord Bearslake went on. “We know how you operate, Finch, courtesy of the fair Ophelia. All your girls have as much to lose as the men they serve, which is why they’re safe. I don’t know who the two you brought today are, but I’m very sure they wouldn’t want their pictures in the paper.”

  “To the contrary,” Peter told him. “They’d be delighted. In fact, if you spent an afternoon going around the phone boxes in the less reputable parts of central London, you’d recognize them. You see, they are a ‘pair of little tarts’, but they’re not from Grove House Maids, which is a perfectly respectable company set up to help students through university. Expose Gemma and Laurel, please do. It would be excellent publicity for them.”

  Christine’s face showed irritation, but only for a moment.

  “You’re in those photographs too, Finch,” she pointed out.

  “I am,” Peter admitted. “But I don’t suppose there’ll be much public interest in little old me, surely not? Aside from that, I believe that anal sex has been legal since around nineteen-ninety-four, and light bondage is okay, and group sex, I think, especially as I was on private land, your land, in fact, Lord Bearslake.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Lord Bearslake demanded.

  “Precisely what I say,” Peter went on. “You have photographs, no doubt of excellent quality, that show me and three girls having sex—quite imaginative sex I’d like to think—and the animal get-ups were a wonderful touch, by the way. We’re at Bearslake Hall, and you watched as the two girls were done up to look like Dalmatians, and encouraged me to sodomize Ophelia, to say nothing of your attempts at blackmail. Yes, if I had brought Grove House girls, as you expected, you’d be safe. I couldn’t ask them to testify and they’d refuse in any case. But I didn’t bring Grove House girls, did I? I brought Gemma and Laurel, who’ll be only too pleased to testify.”

  “Nobody would believe them, or you!” Lord Bearslake blustered, although he sounded worried. “A pair of whores and their pimp against a man of my reputation?”

  “A pair of whores who can describe your stable yard and grounds in some detail,” Peter went on. “You do realize that I knew it was a trap all along, don’t you? It was far too great a co-incidence, Ophelia meeting Gabriel in Oxford like that, immediately after the Caring Planet party. You know he’s one of my oldest friends, so it can hardly have been difficult to figure out that I was providing girls for him.”

  “Why did you come to Bearslake then?” Christine demanded.

  “To trap you, of course,” Peter told her. “You and your appalling boss. It didn’t work quite as well as it might have, admittedly, as I didn’t think he’d be able to resist the girls. But then, I imagine he’s expecting to get his jollies later, with you, isn’t he?”

  Her face had turned scarlet and Peter quickly pressed his advantage.

  “Look, you impudent little pimp!” Lord Bearslake roared. “Try anything and I’ll sue you for every penny you have, and believe me, I’ll win.”

  “Very possibly,” Peter admitted. “Which is why I took a few extra precautions. You see, Lord Bearslake, a girl who can be bribed once can be bribed again, which is why I’d have the additional support of Ophelia’s testimony, including a recording of you setting up today’s little outing. We also know which stores you bought the body paint from and so forth, in cash of course, but I venture to suggest that John here is quite easily recognized. Then there’s the fact that while you managed to confiscate my camera, you failed to realize that I am wired for sound, so to speak. So that if things get really unpleasant I have this entire conversation on record, you blackmailing old heap of blubber. Don’t worry though, I won’t use it, just so long as nothing appears in that grotty little rag you call a paper. Oh, and just in case, perhaps I should also mention the three Serbian gentlemen currently waiting in a car outside your house, with the girls. They are not nice people, as you doubtless know, but then one can’t always help the company one keeps. Good day to you, Lord Bearslake, Christine.”

  He nodded to each and left the room.

  ♦♦♦♦

  “Do you think we’re safe?” Michelle asked.

  “Yes,” Peter told her. “At least from Bearslake. He’s notoriously cautious with his own skin and he has far too much to lose. Remember, it’s only a story to him anyway. It’s Christine I’m worried about. With her it’s personal. Hopefully she values her job more than getting here revenge on me.”

  “I’m sure she does,” Michelle said.

  “I still wish we’d got something on her,” Peter said, flopping down in his favorite armchair. “But we’ve yet to turn anything up, aside from letting old Bearslake hump her, which may be a trifle grotesque but it’s hardly a crime. Now pour me a drink and then get your mouth around my cock. I’m still shaking.”

  “You poor thing,” Michelle answered, making for the kitchen. “I’d have been terrified.”

  “I was,” Peter admitted. “He had his gamekeeper with him, not at all the sort I’d care to try and tackle. He was going to go for me as I left, but Bearslake called him off. Now come on, the Serbians got their bjs and I imagine Christine was over Bearslake’s knee before we’d reached the end of the drive, but …”

  “Patience,” Michelle chided gently. “Do you want my dress on, or off?”

  “Off,” Peter answered, easing down his fly, “and your bra.”

  “I’ll leak!”

  “That’s half the fun.”

  “Pervert!”

  “You married me.”

  Michelle came out from the kitchen as Peter pushed his trousers down to expose his cock. She was holding a large brandy balloon, half full, which she handed to him before peeling off her dress and unfastening her bra. As the cups came lose he gave a happy sigh, marveling at the size and weight of her breasts, while little spots of milk had begun to form on her nipples before she’d even managed to get to her knees.

  “Bliss!” he sighed as she wrapped both heavy breasts around his cock, smearing her milk over his shaft and the skin of his balls. “Christ they’re big!”

  “I’m glad you appreciate them,” Michelle answered. “A lot of men don’t find pregnant women attractive.”

  “Idiots,” Peter replied and sighed again as she began to lick her breast milk up from his genitals.

  He’d closed his eyes, sipping at his brandy, with his tension slowly draining away under Michelle’s skilled and completely uninhibited ministrations. Her heavy bosom wobbled as she moved, to press against his legs, which she’d soon eased wide apart so that she could lick his asshole while she stroked his now erect cock shaft.

  “I’ve known a lot of very, very bad girls,” he said softly as he reached his free hand out to stroke her hair. “But you take the prize.”

  Michelle responded by wriggling the tip of her tongue deeper in, and Peter tightened his grip in her hair, wondering if he should simply let her take him to orgasm with her mouth, or if it would be safe to slip into her ass with only a few days left until she was expected to give birth. On the whole it seemed better to let her continue. But even as she moved in closer to take his cock in her mouth once more, he heard the sound of car from outside.

  “Don’t worry, it’ll be Rhiannon,” he said and Michelle nodded on her mouthful of cock.

  “I might have known it!” Rhiannon laughed as she came through the front door. “I take it everything went well then?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” Peter answered her. “But in one word—yes. Now why don’t you join in?”

  “Love to, but let me put my bags down,” Rhiannon answered. “I’ll ha
ve a drink while I watch you two, then maybe I’ll come and stick my bum right in your face, Mr. Finch.”

  “Yes, please,” Peter answered.

  He relaxed once more as Rhiannon disappeared into the kitchen, now imagining how it would feel to have her beautifully rounded little bottom in his face while Michelle worked on his cock. She’d come to take particular pleasure in having her anus licked, usually in preparation for anal sex, and she was generally the first to get her bottom into another girl’s face when the chance came, often with Michelle.

  “Don’t make him come yet, you greedy bitch!” she called from the kitchen. “He never licks properly when he’s empty.”

  Michelle responded by sitting back, and Peter let go of her hair as he saw what she was going to do. She’d taken one plump breast in each hand, squeezing them to a gentle, even rhythm to make her milk come. There was now plenty of it, with tiny jets squirting from her nipples as she pressed them between fingers and thumbs, to run together into little white rivulets. Her knees were spread wide, her heavy belly resting between her thighs and her bottom pushed out as she milked herself, smiling all the while, with her eyes fixed to Peter’s as he nursed his erection. A few firm jerks and he’d have been able to reach orgasm, perhaps leaning forward to do it all over Michelle’s breasts and belly, leaving her to masturbate in a mixture of milk and cum, but he wanted both girls and forced himself to hold off.

  Michelle’s face had grown loose with pleasure as she continued to play with her milk, which was coming so fast it had begun to run down over the fat, swollen globe of her belly. She put her hands underneath, lifting the weight and catching the longest of the little trickles, then moving slowly up, spreading the pale liquid over her flesh to leave her bulge glossy and slick. Peter began to hammer on his cock, unable to hold back a moment more, and as Michelle saw she caught up her breast’s again, lifting one swollen nipple to her mouth to suck at the teat, beading her lips with her own milk before she swallowed it down.

  “Here I am!” Rhiannon announced as she bounced out from the kitchen, a drink in her hand and stark naked.

  “Feed on Michelle!” Peter gasped. “I can’t hold back, but I want to see you feed on Michelle. Go on, darling, cradle her, let her suckle, please!”

  Rhiannon giggled and had quickly curled herself into Michelle’s lap, held as if she was a baby. Her eyes were full of mischief as she glanced at Peter, but as she took Michelle’s nipple into her mouth her expression changed instantly to bliss, her eyes closed, her lips puckered as she suckled. With Michelle’s arms curled around her back and beneath her, Rhiannon’s position also served to show off her pert bottom, her sweet little cheeks pushed out, with the lips of her cunt emerging from beneath as she fed.

  Peter moved quickly forward as he felt himself start to spurt, aiming his cock at Michelle’s chest and at Rhiannon’s face. Cum splashed out, soiling Michelle’s neck and one fat breast, and again, to leave a sticky streamer joining Rhiannon’s nose to the teat she was feeding from. Rhiannon’s head turned, her lips wet with Michelle’s milk as she opened her mouth wide for Peter’s cock. He pushed in with a groan, letting her suck and swallow, feeding on his cock just as she’d fed at Michelle’s breast, before he finally collapsed back into the chair.

  “That was so dirty!” Rhiannon said, a broad smile upon her sodden face.

  But she was nowhere near finished. Rhiannon fastened again onto Michelle’s nipple, feeding eagerly. Michelle tightened her grip, holding Rhiannon firmly to her breast as she suckled her, with Peter watching in fascination. Rhiannon’s hands went between her legs, one to rub at her pussy and the other to tease at the slit of her ass and the tiny hole between, masturbating freely without a care for the show she was making of herself.

  Michelle’s milk came fast now, and as Rhiannon grew more excited she began to lose control, her mouth wide and slack with tiny rivulets of milk running from the corners to dribble down onto her breasts. Not that she cared, sucking more eagerly still as her fingers stroked at her clitoris, while another of her slippery fingers eased up into her ass. Her muscles began to contract, her back arched and she’d pulled off Michelle’s teat as she started to come, milk bubbling from her lips. Michelle gave her breast a sudden, firm squeeze, sending a powerful blast of milk into Rhiannon’s open mouth.

  Once more Rhiannon pressed herself to Michelle’s chest, now coming in a shivering, jerking climax as she sucked on the slippery, milky nipple and rubbed her face into the softness of her friend’s breast to deliberately soil herself with milk and semen, her fingers still clutching at her sex and her anus now plugged and twitching around fingers buried deep. Michelle held on, cuddling Rhiannon and stroking her hair, soothing her, and praising her for how far she’d let herself go. At last, it was the younger girl who finally pulled away.

  “You’re a disgrace!” Peter said happily as Michelle rose ponderously, and began looking for something with which to clean herself off.

  Rhiannon simply giggled, and at that moment the doorbell rang.

  “That must be Stephen,” Peter said. “He’s very early.”

  Rhiannon gave a squeak of alarm and started for the stairs, only to be brought up short as Peter grabbed hold of her wrist. He was grinning as he wagged a finger in her face.

  “Oh no you don’t, young lady. Go and answer the door to our guest.”

  “Not like this!” Rhiannon protested.

  “Why not?” he asked innocently.

  “I’m covered in milk and cum!”

  “Okay,” Peter offered, “but I’m going to the door, right now.”

  Rhiannon fled up stairs, her face scarlet with blushes. Peter was laughing as he pulled open the door, making sure that Rhiannon managed to get clear, only to find that the visitor was not Stephen, but Christine, her scowling face streaked with tears, her eyes blazing hatred.

  “You got me fired, you bastard!” she raged. “I’m going to see you brought down, Finch. I’m going to see you back in fucking prison if it’s the last thing I do, you fucking bastard!”

  “Calm down!” Peter urged, stepping hastily back from the door. “You’re the one who tried to expose me. What was I supposed to do, just let you get away with it?”

  “Why couldn’t you work with us?” she demanded. “It would have been so simple, but oh no, you have to play your stupid little games, and …”

  “Oh right,” he interrupted, his own temper flaring, “so I’d have betrayed my friends and ended up as a spy for that bloated oaf Bearslake. Never, Christine, not in a million years. I would rather be in prison, seriously.”

  “With any luck you’ll get your wish,” she answered, suddenly cold. “I’m going to another paper, with everything I’ve got, the pictures, everything, and what I know from way back, about how you arranged to have me spanked in front of your filthy friends, the others too. You do know little Katie Vale is married to a high court judge now, don’t you? And Ayanna? Do you know how much she’s worth? Over a billion! When she finds out …”

  “I didn’t do anything to Ayanna!”

  “Oh yes? You had her spanked by Vicky fucking Trent and Tiffany, so you could watch, didn’t you?”

  “No. I …”

  “Bullshit! I know you, Finch, you pervert, and that’s what I’m going to tell her anyway, so …”

  “She came in to Vicky’s room to ask for a spanking,” Peter broke in. “But look, seriously, have some compassion, Christine! My wife’s pregnant, Daniel’s career will be ruined and he doesn’t even know about Clementine, Ben Thompson …”

  “Did you show me any compassion?” she demanded, fresh anger flaring in her eyes.

  “Yes!” Peter answered. “I refused to give any names out, even when I was being threatened with a caning, or to the police. That meant your name, Christine, as well as the others’, and besides, you knew what you were letting yourself in for. You volunteered to be spanked
, remember, and it’s not as if it was even the first time. You were Vicky’s toasty girl, for Christ’s sake!”

  “That was private,” Christine answered. “Something very private and very special between Vicky and I, something which a clod like you could never hope to understand.”

  “You snitched on Tiffany and Alice to make Vicky jealous!” Peter exclaimed. “Face it, Christine, you’re no angel. And what about Ophelia? You and Bearslake had her dressed up as a fox, chased around Bearslake Estate and sodomized, not to mention being made to lick two girls out. I bet that wasn’t in accord with the paper’s code of conduct!”

  “She was well paid,” Christine assured him, “and anyway, you subverted her!”

  “And she thoroughly enjoyed the whole thing,” Peter added. “But that’s not the point. You’re taking the moral high ground when you have no right whatsoever to do so. Can’t we talk about this? I’m sorry about the spanking, I really am. I never realized you’d take it so badly, and you’re really no better than me anyway, so why …”

  She screamed and flung herself at him, but Peter caught her arms and quickly twisted her around, lifting her clear of the ground with her legs kicking frantically in every direction, just as Stephen’s black Mercedes appeared in the mouth of the lane. Peter kept his grip on the still struggling Christine, doing his best to evade her teeth and nails, but suffering several nasty kicks from her heels. She was still spitting curses as the astonished Stephen climbed form the car, along with Vivienne.

  “What the hell is going on?” Stephen demanded. “Is that … Christine?”