by Cecelie Hart
"Over there, my dear," her husband drawled, stepping aside and gesturing.
Emma stared in horror. Daisy was on her hands and knees just like she was. The pretty maid was facing the doorway, her skirt and petticoats had been hiked above her waist and her bare bottom pointed directly at her mistress. Between the girl's rosy cheeks her arsehole gaped and bubbled—a deep borehole filled with her master's seed.
"No!" she gasped.
Ada crouched behind her. Grasping the cucumber once more, she resumed gently sodomizing her mistress. Emma groaned as the huge vegetable jostled the ginger and brought her womanhood to the precipice of euphoria.
"Perhaps her ladyship would prefer more time in the pillory," she suggested. "She could complete her penance later. I have a fresh root with me."
No... not that. No more! She needed this finished while some sliver of her remained a lady, not a depraved, sodomite harlot. Whimpering, Emma crawled forward. She spread the maid's young and pretty bottom, causing a trickle of her husband's seed to burst free and drip across Daisy's wet pussy. Trembling with both disgust and, she was ashamed to admit, lust, Emma dove in. Her tongue swept up the errant cum and plunged into the brunette's gaping anus, wriggling deep into a cavern full of salty cream.
As she sucked and lapped at the maid's messy arse, her husband knelt behind her and the housekeeper crouched to her side. Muffled by the salty bottom, she groaned in relief as the ginger root was pulled from her soaking, spiced pussy... then shuddered as Edmund entered her, his cock sliding along the bulk lodged in her rectum
As he thrust, Ada reached between them to grasp the stub of the cucumber. Emma bucked and shuddered as she drank from Daisy's arse and two huge shafts—one animal, one vegetable—plundered her quivering holes. She was lost in depravity. How had she fallen so far? But she was helpless before the skillful twin assault, screaming as the little death rose to take into its dark, ecstatic embrace.
♠
Her husband cradled her in his arms as he carried her back to bedroom. Exhausted, Emma drifted off as the maids cleaned her ravished, sticky body.
She slept through the afternoon, rousing only when a light meal was brought up. She stared in disgust at the tray of cucumber sandwiches... but in the end was too hungry to resist.
♠
Emma lay awake. It was nearly midnight, close to the sinister darkness of the wee hours. The house was silent except for the creaks and groans of the ancient wood beams.
She rose from her bed, her mind made up. What had happened today was unacceptable and her husband needed to know it! Never again could he submit her to such degenerate acts. If he did, she might lose herself completely and become an utterly unrepentant slattern unfit to call herself a lady.
Confronting him during the day would fruitless. He would be in his element, calm and confident. But dragged unexpectedly from his slumber? That might be a different story.
Emma threw a shawl over her thin silk shift and headed out through the manor. But when she came to Edmund's chambers she found them dark and empty. The bed was made, but slightly dusty. No one had slept in it for weeks.
Her plan in tatters, Emma almost headed back to her room. But curiosity and instinct led her to the wing that housed the female servant's quarters. She'd never been here before, but she'd overheard enough chatter to know that the housekeeper had a room slightly apart from the maids.
She ghosted down the unfamiliar halls, unsure of where to go, until the sound of a loud coughing fit drew her to a simple door. The noise was terrible, rasping and wet, but unmistakably from a woman. Surely it couldn't be Ada. The housekeeper was always so collected, so immaculate, perfectly in control. But if this was a maid, the poor girl clearly needed help. She reached out to knock.
"Should I fetch your medicine?" a low male voice asked. Emma froze. That had been her husband.
"No," the housekeeper's weak and muffled tones replied. "I have already taken twice the dose. It is getting worse. The facade is becoming difficult to maintain. I fear our remaining months together may be dwindling rapidly."
This part of the house was old. The door was made of heavy, ancient oak. The keyhole was large and crude. Emma knelt and put her eye to it. The room beyond was plain and functional. Her husband and the housekeeper were lying together on the simple bed. Ada's head was resting on Edmund's shoulder and his arms were around her, cradling her gently.
"My wife is showing promise," Emma heard her husband say softly. "Today was a great success—right according to plan. We should be able to accelerate her training."
"There is the other matter," Ada replied, rasping as another cough shook her.
"I've already made arrangements," Edmund replied.
"Promise me again," the housekeeper whispered after a minute of silence.
There was a pause. "I shall do everything in my power," Edmund replied eventually. "If Emma fails, I shall kick the whole hornet's nest over, to the devil with the consequences. I can promise you that, my love."
That wasn't quite a promise. But it seemed to satisfy Ada. The housekeeper closed her eyes and remained quiet.
Emma stood on shaky legs. Any desire to confront her husband was gone. She didn't understand any of what she'd just heard. What was she being trained for? And to what purpose? Why, what and how might she fail?
But no more talk came from the room beyond the door, only soft breathing and gentle snores. She would get no answers tonight. Shivering from more than the chill of the night, Emma slipped silently back to her chambers. But it was almost dawn before she could find sleep.
♠
Lady Emma woke the same way she'd woken every morning since her wedding day... except something was different. There was, as always, an eager, lapping mouth at her pussy—Sally's, she could tell without looking. But... Emma jolted fully awake. There were silk cords tied around her wrists and ankles, lashing her to the four posts of her bed. She was staked, legs and arms spread!
But why? She thrashed against her bonds. But Sally was unperturbed. She skillfully, if a touch roughly, brought her mistress to the edge of ecstasy. Emma groaned, somehow the cords just made it more exciting, more intense...
She threw back her head, moaning loudly and already cursing in frustration. This would be where the maid stopped...
Sally didn't stop. Emma squealed in surprise as the little death reached for her. Why wasn't the maid stopping? Edmund! Where was her husband's cock? She couldn't cum without his cock inside her!
Her eyes darted around the room in panic. He was nowhere to be seen. But Ada was staring down at her, lips pursed.
Emma bit down hard on her lip, drawing blood. She fought her climax with every ounce of her strength. But she was sliding down an icy precipice, her fingertips clawing without purchase...
She fell, screaming in ecstasy as she descended into her treacherous, forbidden orgasm...
The housekeeper tutted. "A shame," she sighed. "But perhaps you'll do better tomorrow." Ada snapped her fingers and four maids rushed through the doorway to grab their mistress by her limbs.
Still flushed from her climax, Emma gaped in horror as the cords were untied and she was lifted from her bed.
"No!" she whispered.
But at the housekeepers gesture, the maids carried her from her room and down towards the pillory that awaited those who broke her husband's rules.
Emma wasn't sure what shamed her more: the idea another day of sordid depravity, or that a treacherous part of her was rejoicing.
♠ ♠ ♠
A Reward for the Hesitant Bride
Figging Her New Maid
♠
The light creeping through a crack in the curtains woke her. Through the thick glass of the old window, even such a thin beam was warm against her face.
Lady Emma opened her eyes in surprise. It was late, very late. Much later than she was usually woken. She'd been permitted to sleep in? Her husband hadn't mentioned the possibility, nor had their housekeeper. But the room was far b
righter that it usually was when she first stirred... and there was no pretty maid between her thighs, kissing her wet pussy to wake her... no tongue curling against her dripping folds, teasing her, caressing her... torturing her...
Had Edmund's tests finally finished? And, if so, had she passed or failed? It had been several days since she'd last been borne down to his dungeons, to await punishment in his pillory for the grievous sin of surrendering to her pleasure without his permission—without him inside her. She'd mastered the maids a good fortnight back. No matter how they'd kissed, licked caressed or fingered her—no matter how skillfully they'd brought her to the edge of ecstasy—she'd remained in command of her body. She had refused to succumb to the sweet temptation of the little death. She'd bit her lip and willed it away.
Ada had been harder. It wasn't just physical skill. It was presence. Just being in the same room as the beautiful housekeeper weakened Emma's resolve. Her blood flowed a little bit faster, a little bit hotter. It pounded at her temples and in her rosebud. She'd failed a handful of times and faced her punishment in the stocks. On each occasion, cucumber sandwiches had been served at tea—a poignant reminder of her weakness. She'd never dared ask if they were made from the same vegetables that had made her moan and cry out as Edmund had... Emma shivered, unwilling to revisit the shameful memory
But, with practice, she'd even mastered Ada... although when the housekeeper employed her ivory phallus it had brought on a half-dozen more failures. Emma still went red faced with shame at the memory of how ardently she'd bucked and moaned the first time Ada had sodomized her with her strapped on cock. The indecency of the sordid penetration and the unnaturalness of the act had overcome her propriety.
But yesterday, Emma had been strong. She'd taken the housekeeper's ivory cock into the depraved heart of her arse without faltering. Even with the perspiration beading on her forehead and her pulse racing, she'd not relented. Even when Ada had summoned maids to kiss their lady sweetly on each nipple and between her thighs, lavishing Emma with their tongues as the housekeeper stroked to and fro in her tight, firm arsehole, she had not relented. She not faltered, not even with a ginger root steaming her drenched and dripping pussy, burning her with its arousing fire every time Ada thrust...
Of course, she'd been a frightful mess at breakfast, erupting in an unseemly orgasm the moment Edmund slipped his cock between her lips. But she had waited... as her husband's rules required, she'd waited until he was inside her.
Had that been it? Was he satisfied? Had she passed his tests? Would he trust that she'd be a dutiful, obedient wife despite the bizarreness of his customs? Maybe... Emma could quite believe it.
She frowned slightly as she sat up. It had been so long since she'd woken naturally... she wasn't sure she cared for it. Forcing herself to remain on that knife-edge was difficult to be sure, sometimes almost agony. But it really was a most invigorating way to start the day. Not even the strongest tea could match it. If this painful absence of sensation was success, maybe she should have been less anxious to achieve it. Perhaps the deep shame of what Edmund and Ada did to her in that pillory was actually preferable.
Emma bit her lip at the uncomfortable thought and looked around. She was certain there was a bell rope to pull to summon a maid somewhere—she'd just never had to use it before. Aha... there! She located it on the wall just within reach and gave it a sharp tug.
After a couple minutes of twiddling her thumbs, she heard footsteps in the hall. There was a timid knock and, at her command, the door opened and a young maid entered, carrying a tray. Emma frowned. She didn't recognize this one. Had her husband hired a new servant? The girl was a pretty redhead with freckles and dimples. She was really quite adorable. She had the sort of shy smile that lit her round, pale face right up and exposed a slight overbite.
Emma found herself sitting up straighter and squirming as she felt a throb between her thighs. Hmmm... what was Edmund playing at? Most of his maids were like lesser, more pliant variants of his housekeeper. They might come in all shapes and sizes, and all were instantly obedient—to him, at least—but when they were tasked with something they all conducted themselves with efficiency and confidence. Emma liked that—she liked the forthright way they kissed her pussy, they way they dove in, faces smeared with her quim, and simply did the job. And she loved the way Ada took control...
This one though... hmmm... this one seemed different. Different in an intriguing way... This one sparked a whole new set of desires in Emma. Hmmm... Edmund could be generous. Perhaps this was a gift... or maybe a reward.
"And you are?" she asked, her voice clipped.
The girl curtseyed. "Mabel, milady," she stammered, somehow tripping over two words. "I am to be your new lady's maid, uhh... milady. I shall be attending you from now on."
Really? Edmund had once said he was going to find her someone, but she'd thought he'd forgotten and she'd been far too distracted to remind him. She pursed her lips. She'd thought she might get a say in who he hired.
"Are you trained?" Emma asked.
Mabel's eyes widened as if insulted. She nodded vigorously. "Of course, milady! His lordship has my letters of recommendation, if you want to..." She trailed off as her mistress raised an eyebrow.
Interesting. That hadn't been what Emma had meant at all. It went without saying that her husband would have hired someone who could do the traditional aspects of the job. But had this pretty little thing been educated as to the more exotic duties that would be expected of her?
"Have you been filled in on the customs of the estate, Mabel?" she asked gently.
The girl glanced down. "Miss Collins said you would have some special instructions for me," she stammered. "And..." she hesitated, looking down at her tray. "I'm afraid I don't know what these are for, milady."
Emma glanced at the objects wrapped in cheesecloth on the little silver tray. Two of them? Also interesting... she'd have expected only one. They were ginger roots, of course, peeled and carved. Her husband always liked her to have one snugly nestled in her arse her at breakfast. She smiled, wondering how Mabel would react when she was asked to gently insert a ginger plug into the flower of Emma's delicate posterior.
She swung her legs out of bed and watched the maid blush with some amusement. The silk shift she wore to sleep was indeed short, exposing her shapely thighs and perhaps even a glimpse of her treasure in its bed of dark curls. But Mabel would become far more intimately acquainted with that later.
"Never mind the ginger for now," she told the maid as she crossed the room and settled into the chair before her dressing table and mirror. "Put the tray down and brush my hair."
Mabel blinked. A puzzled look had spread across her face at the word ginger. But she obediently placed her burden on a convenient shelf and scurried across to pick up the exquisite brush from the dressing table.
Emma leaned back as the maid slowly dislodged the tangles from her long dark hair. Mabel had a gentle touch. Good for this... but perhaps not so good for other things. Emma had grown accustomed to a certain degree of vigor. She kept a close eye on the maid in the mirror and subtly stuck out her chest so that the silk clung to her firm breasts. She saw Mabel glimpse down at the outlines of her perky, erect nipples more than once. Emma smiled. This one did share that in common with her husband's other servants then... good.
With a quick movement, she dislodged the straps of the shift from her shoulders, purring as the silk slowly flowed across her straining bosom. The brush stopped momentarily as Mabel gaped. But the maid was well trained. Even though her eyes were wide and her face flushed red, she mastered herself and quickly resumed.
"That's enough, Mabel," Emma sighed. "There's something else I want you to do now."
The timid maid looked ready to panic. But Emma could tell by the way she was biting the inside of her cheek that Mabel's terror was laced with excitement.
"Yes, milady," the redhead squeaked, placing the brush back on the table with a trembling hand.
&
nbsp; "Rub my shoulders, please, Mabel," Emma ordered.
The maid nodded, unable to stop herself from exhaling sharply, the sound part relief, part disappointment. She dutifully began to knead the muscles around her mistress's neck.
The girl was a little too hesitant. This, understandably, must not have been part of her training. But no matter, the uncertainty in her caresses was adorably arousing.
"That's good, Mabel," Emma purred. She reached up and took the maid's hands in hers. "But try... here," she drawled, guiding the girl down to her hard, heaving breasts.
Mabel let out a soft gasp, but her fingers closed around Emma's bosom, squeezing her flesh gently. The maid squirmed as she began to knead the firm breasts, her thumbs grazing Emma's hard nipples.
Mmm... Emma closed her eyes and sighed. The girl needed more practice. She was clearly startled and excited—Emma guessed the redhead was uncomfortably damp between her thighs. But there was something so relaxing about the gentle touch. She so rarely got to take things slow in the mornings. Usually she woke to a tongue in her pussy and, while that was very effective in getting her sufficiently aroused to take her ginger without much pain, sometimes she just wanted to be teased. Mmmm... yes... Emma was also very much enjoying taking the initiative. As much as she loved Ada taking control, she was supposed to be the mistress in this house. It was good to act like it for once.
She sighed at the familiar wet throb between her thighs. Her puckered arsehole tingled and fluttered, readying itself for the root it was conditioned to expect. She could order Mabel lower... really tease herself to the edge. But no... she saw no need to test herself against her husband's rules this morning.
Except... there was an idea. Perhaps she could really take the initiative. That might be jolly good fun! For everything that had been done to her, Emma had created little pleasure in return. Well for the servants anyway—her husband had amply enjoyed himself in every part of his bride's young, nubile body. Almost every time she'd kissed the warm lips between Ada's legs, Edmund's cock had been inside her, distracting her...