The House Of Sophie De Frontenac

"Men are not what you think, Abigail, they are fools, slaves to their base desires, he loves you no more or less than in so much as he can have you!"

"That's not true! He does love me!" She had found her voice at last, as the words spilled out of her in her anger.

"Oh? And how do you know that?"

"Because we love each other and I know, I KNOW he feels the same!" Her eyes were wide and challenging, glaring. The memory made Sophie smile again. Such a little fool, and her insolence on this occasion could be ignored.

"Would he, do you think, love another?" she asked sharply, rising to the challenge.

"NO! He loves only me!"

"And if I could seduce him, what would you think of him then?"

Abigail's mouth shut quickly, her eyes suddenly wary.

"You could not…would not." But the defeated tone in her voice intimated she was not so sure.

Her anger and defiance was now replaced by palpable fear and desperation. Sophie felt triumphant.

"Please don't do this…" Abigail began to plead.

"But I must, and you want to know yourself, don't you?"

"No…" Abigail said softly, her face now pale with worry and not a little fear. "I do not…want you to." She managed to choke out in a small whisper, almost pleadingly.

"Abigail my dear, you are so young and innocent, don't you see? I am ten years older and more than a thousand years wiser in the ways of men than you!" Sophie said, giving her a falsely sympathetic and concerned look. Abigail she said nothing.

"Let me test your young man, what have you to lose? If he is as you say and believe, then you have nothing to fear, and all will be well, and, what's more, you will then have my blessing. If not, then you are much better off knowing now, before it is too late, don't you see?"

She really had no choice, had no option, but to agree.

"Go into the masters special room and watch"

Abigail allowed herself meekly to be pushed towards and through the secret door and into the room beyond, with its special peephole into the bedchamber. Sophie would enjoy this, no doubt about it. And if successful, she would see the fallibility of men. And eventually, she would be thankful, not now perhaps, but later, Sophie thought.

Then Sophie, with an almost cat-like smile upon her lush lips, lay back down upon her bed and reached across to the hanging pull cord next to her bed, snaking one elegant hand around its thickness and pulled, summoning Thomas to her bed chamber.

Thomas was in the kitchen when the tinkling bell from his mistress's room sounded above his head. He was stoking the great hearth fire that served to warm the whole house as well as provide heat with which to cook the meals. Two very large women, who were the cooks, laboured at the great kitchen table, cutting and sorting the evening meal. The heat in the room was extreme, and Thomas was glad to hear the servants bell ring above his head, it was the perfect excuse for him to leave the kitchen.

"Be careful up there, Master Thomas," one of the women called, looking conspiratorially to her friend, who grinned back at her knowingly.

Thomas turned and grinned back at them "Don't you worry yourselves, My Lady Sophie does not frighten me!"

With that he turned and walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the room from where he had been summoned.

The women watched his back as he went, giving each other a knowing look.

They liked and trusted the young man. He was a natural leader, even for his years, that much was clear to all but the dullest of the household. He settled petty arguments and disputes with charm and ease, gave encouragement to the new members of staff, and restrained the bullies who would intimidate if he were not around.

They would miss him if he ever really decided, as he had so often threatened to do so in the past, to leave. He had spoken many times of his desire to seek adventure in the world, although not so much recently, having become involved with Abigail. Indeed, he had whispered secretly to them that he was even considering marriage to her!

He was too young they had protested to him. Go and find the world they had said. He had laughed and dismissed their worries with a cheerful chuckle. His eyes had sparkled with mischief when he told them, no, he would do only what his heart told him. And they accepted that. They worried for him though. They knew of their mistresses appetite for young men, but they only teased Thomas about it, because after all, he was simply a servant, and below her consideration. How wrong they were.

Thomas opened the door to her room. "You rang, M'Lady?"

Thomas was surprised to see his mistress reclining on her bed, barely covered. He had never before seen her almost half-naked, for that was what she was now. He averted his eyes to the floor to avoid looking at her, but the image was burned upon his brain. She was stunning! The swell of half revealed and full white breasts, her long legs visible almost until her thighs! His confusion made him momentarily deaf. In Victorian England, merely a glimpse of a bare ankle was enough to set the pulses of men racing. He felt himself responding despite himself.

"I'm sorry, M'Lady, what was it you wanted?" He glanced at her, not sure where to look. The light from the oil lamp by her bedside cast a warm glow over her rich curves that made him almost visibly weaken at the sight.

"I said Thomas, come here, I need your help" Her voice was softer, almost seductive; he had never heard her speak that way to him.

Thomas moved towards her as he was ordered and she rose from the bed to meet him. But as she stood, she seemed to stumble, and he at once went to save her fall, catching her in his arms. It was her scent that filled his head first of all, swiftly followed by the soft warmth of her body that now pressed intimately against his own.

He was painfully, delightfully, aware of every part of her body pressing against him, the heat from her like a furnace, burning into him.

"Thank you Thomas…" She hung on to him, letting him absorb the warmth of her body, held against him for a long second, before she let herself fall to her knees, resting her head against his waist.

"Mistress…are you alright? Do you need a doctor?" Thomas had never seen her like this and seriously wondered if she was ill.

He held her as best he could as she slumped against him. She felt warm and soft beneath his hands, never had he so much as touched her body before, and now she was held in his arms. She seemed in no hurry to escape from them.

And what's more, shockingly to him, he could not fail to notice her head resting, pressing, against his groin, which, to his horror, was responding to her pressure and growing despite himself. Confusion and panic made him try and retreat, but she held him fast to her.

She looked up at him, her face pleading, challenging. "I am ill, Thomas, sick with boredom and weak men, men unlike you, your strong, I can see that, I need strong men, I need men just like you, Thomas. You will help me won't you, Thomas?"

"Help you, mistress?" Thomas echoed foolishly, desperately trying to think of a way to escape his Lady's attentions without causing offence. He made to blurt out his love for Abigail, but stopped, realising that would be impossible, that they would both be simply dismissed.

"How can I help you, mistress?" Thomas asked in a confused way.

"I think you know…" She turned her head and pressed her lips against his groin, directly upon the cloth covering his growing erection.

Thomas backed away. "No…mistress… don't…please…" But she held him fast to her, pressing her mouth against his growing hardness, teasing him, inflaming him.

He was trapped, trapped as much by his desire as by his horror of what she wanted.

She looked up at him again, all the while lasciviously stroking the hardening member growing inside his pants. "Thomas, don't refuse your mistress, it will go bad for you to refuse me, and I can see that you clearly want… what I want…"

With that she popped the buttons on his pants and snaked her hand quickly and expertly inside, deftly finding and hooking out his already semi-hard penis. She felt Thomas groan at her touch and sway slightly, but he no longer resisted.

Without preamble she took hold of him in both hands, stroking his length slowly, feeling the rush of blood building the hardness under her hand. It rose steadily, growing in length and girth before her eyes. Very soon it stood proud, upright and fully erect in front of her face.

She smiled at the sight, the proof of her power. Pulling the loose skin slowly down, she peeled back the covering hood and revealed the sensitive swollen head of his penis. She looked up to see Thomas moan and close his eyes. She knew she had him now.

Watching his face, she licked the sensitive flared tip, the first touch made him jump, his penis jerking from the wet touch of her tongue. He was squirming now as she lapped around the head, exploring the sensitive underside, as it hardened further under her touch. She held the thick shaft in one hand firmly; making sure the tip of his penis was at the mercy of her lapping pink tongue.

Then, as if she was also hungry, tired of waiting, she slipped her full soft red lips over the head and down the length of his shaft, devouring him fully, effortlessly. Again she looked up at his face, as he looked down in awe at the image of his cock entering and filling the face of his mistress.

Poor Abigail, Sophie thought without pity as she moved her head up and down the length of his penis. Poor Abigail, watching helplessly as her love was taken so easily. She turned her head slightly to where the peephole was, and saw a single, wide eye peering through, filled with tears as she watched her mistress take her man, take her love, deep within her mouth.

Thomas was close, the inexperience of youth uncontrolled, his climax she could feel building quickly, and then she felt it, felt the increased swelling begin, as his climax swept up the length of him to burst inside her mouth. His hot essence she lapped up as he exploded inside her, his seed flooding her, as she drank him, suctioning him of everything he could give her.

She held him close, deep within her, as he shuddered his climax into her suctioning mouth, his legs almost buckling under the intense sensations. Then he was done, and she let the quickly softening penis slip from her mouth reluctantly, casting a glance towards the peephole that she saw was now empty.

Her task over, she became brisk. "Thomas, you may go, do not speak of this to anyone, now leave me"

"Yes mistress" was all Thomas could mumble, his mind and feelings jumbled, confused, as he adjusted himself and stumbled out of her room.

Sophie watched him leave, and turned towards the secret compartment. She found Abigail slumped on the floor, her face tear streaked. She felt no pity, only contempt.

Sophie reached down and pulled the girl roughly up to her feet, wiping her tears away. Then she leaned forward and kissed the girl full on the lips, darting her tongue into the young girls mouth.

"Can you taste him, Abigail? Can you taste your lover's seed upon my lips? Do you understand now? Do you fully understand?" Sophie shook Abigail, who wiped her mouth and ran from the room without a word.

That was almost three years ago, and Thomas was sent away, banished for having improper relations with another servant girl. Abigail was broken, tied now to her cruel mistress. Sophie was satisfied she had nipped the bloom of love at its heart.

Tomorrow they were about to embark to North Africa, and she would no doubt find more interesting entertainment for her. Sophie just knew it would. She could not wait to be free of this cold climate and colder men. She needed fire, and men with fire in their loins for her. She did not know then, that she would get more than even she bargained for.

Thank you for taking the time to read this story and if you enjoyed it enough to want to read what happens to Sophie next, please do let me know.

Depending on sufficient interest, Chapter Two will soon follow. If you want me to notify you when Chapter Two is actually posted, I will be happy to do so.