The Dining Room Maid

She spun on her heel, and with hands on her hips and her shoulder back she walked over to the new little serving girl.

Simon looked into the middle distance, trying not to move. His delicate hands were clasped together neatly across his apron and he bobbed a little curtsey.

'Well, well, well. How prettily this little bird has been decorated, and so soon. ".

Her hand lifted Simon's chin and he was forced to meet Cordelia's gaze.

"A little paint and she will be quite delicious."

Then she turned to sit with the family, and the conversation flowed enthusiastically about her day in the saddle, whilst Molly and Bateman served each course and discreetly sunk back into the shadows awaiting their orders.

It was during the pudding course that the atmosphere changed. Simon lent forward to serve Lady Bevois when he felt a rough hand grope his buttocks through his frilly knickers. He had tried to do his duties without drawing attention to his dress, but the dress was cut so high, and the petticoats were so plentiful, that it was impossible for any form of modesty. He had felt the families eyes on his legs throughout the meal, but never dreamt that the Master himself would actually touch him.

Simon stood up with a gasp, nearly spilling the fruit salad bowl, and then realised there was nothing at all he could do.

"Serve me Molly, there's a good girl." Lady Bevois' tone was not to be questioned.

"Yes Ma'am," Molly replied and lent forward, once again presenting her pert bottom towards the Master. This time Simon had to endure his lecherous grope without complaining. As he served Lady Bevois, he felt his buttocks being squeezed and a strong thumb pressed crudely between his buttocks, forcing the satin material of his knickers deep inside the cleft.

Simon bit his lip, he didn't know what to do, or what to think. This was entirely new to him. This was all new to him, and he was confused and flustered and humiliated and perhaps even a little thrilled, all at once. Then it was over, and he continued around the table unhindered. Returning to his post he desperately wanted to adjust his knickers but he knew that this was not allowed. So he stood there, hands clasped in front, meekly awaiting orders whilst the family resumed their conversation.

Lady Bevois lent across to her husband and rested her hand on his thigh. She knew when her husband was aroused, and that it was best to satisfy his desires quickly to maintain a peaceful equilibrium in their relationship.

"Later dear, I will be yours. You can de-flower this girl when Mama and I have feminised her a bit more. It will be sweeter for you, trust me."

Lord Bevois patted his wife's hand affectionately in a gesture of agreement and mutual understanding. She knew that his thrusts would be hard and powerful this evening, and this thought made her glow under the candlelight as she delicately nibbled her way through the summer fruit. Cordelia looked at her Grandmama quizzically and could see just the faintest smile on her lips. Then the conversation turned to other matters, and the moment was lost.

Lord and Lady Bevois retired early that evening, and an hour later the Dowager rang the bell in her own room to summon Molly to her duties. Molly looked up at the bell box on the wall, and brushing down her aprons neatly, busied herself preparing warm milk and cookies.