The Housemaid Ch. 02

Annabel walked lightly despite the heavy tray she carried, down the hall towards the young master's room. Master Alexis lived on the third floor, well away his father's wing of the house. Both men preferred it this way, as Lord Eastmoor lived alone on his estate in remote Yorkshire out of a sincere desire for solitude. Or so everyone said.

Annabel had lit the fire herself an hour before, and now she had arrived to provide the young master his breakfast. And his other morning services. Annabel didn't smile, but she focused her attention on the smooth rasp of her thighs against one another as she walked. She wore no undergarments, ever, as the young master had forbidden them when she had become his. He liked knowing that his seed leaked down her legs during the day, leaked out of her quim even as she did her dusting, leaked during her rounds of cocksucking services she provided to various males in the household. He loved knowing that her cunt was his personal receptacle for semen, but that she catted around the house sucking cock all day. They both knew he might impregnate her, but he seemed unconcerned. Annabel knew he would provide for her and a child, and he seemed to feel it would be proof of his virility, although he had never said so directly. And she loved being made messy by him, and smelling him on her all day, even as she swallowed the seed of others.

Annabel entered the young master's room, setting her tray upon the table in his sitting room before entering his inner chamber. He lay sprawled in the bed, the coverlet twisted up around his waist, the sheets in disarray from his heavy and restless sleep. Cracking the drapes a bit to let the weak sunshine in, she went over the edge of the bed and knelt, drawing the chamberpot from under the bed and waiting on her knees expectantly.

Alex opened his eyes, gazing at the ceiling above his bed in his beloved Eastmoor. He'd grown up here, though he'd been sent away to Eton at thirteen. And he would go to Oxford next year, but his father had allowed him to come home for a year to help manage the estate. He'd arrived a month ago. And the person who had greeted him the first morning of his arrival and been the most luscious housemaid he's ever set eyes upon, and more sluttish than he could have dreamed up even his wildest fantasies alone in his Eton bed. She'd sucked his cock that morning, and each subsequent morning for three days. But on that fourth day, he'd opened his eyes midway through her very excellent fellatio to see a look in her face he hadn't liked. She thought she had power. She thought she owned him, owned his cock. The second he'd had the thought, something must have changed in his eyes, as hers grew round and she had increased the suction. He'd been close to blowing, and this extra suction made him convulse, spurting his come into her waiting and hungry mouth.

But instead of fondling her nipples, or patting her shoulder and requesting his tea as he'd done before, he decided to punish the housemaid. She had only the power he granted -- he'd learned that much on the birching block at Eton. She needed discipline, and in addition to Latin and maths, his schooling had taught him how to give and receive such punishments. And how to enjoy them. And he had enjoyed it, even as a young boy. His first year, the canings had been a confusing experience, with the pain, and his tears. Within a few weeks though, he had inexplicable little erections when he was ordered to go down and mount the block. He had not been a bad pupil, and he'd been publicly birched only a few times, but they had been so exciting that he'd rubbed his little pecker furiously at night imagining it. But the excitement he'd felt at being birched paled in comparison to his excitement about finally becoming the fagmaster last year in the Sixth Form. He loved it, loved being responsible for his fags behavior, of praising them and punishing them as they deserved. Molding them to his will, forcing them to obey because they feared and loved him, that was the greatest excitement of all. Oh, some could not be molded -- some never grew to love discipline, whether because they were too strong-willed or because they loved the wildness too much. The best were the ones who loved to submit to him, but be wild in other circumstances.

Like the housemaid. That would be his amusement while he was home at Eastmoor then -- bending her to his discipline, while still fostering the wild sluttishness that made her so irresistible. And so when Alex opened his eyes that morning and turned his head to the light, he saw his lovely housemaid Annabel obediently kneeling before his bed, the porcelain chamberpot resting in her lap.

She was backlit from the chink of sunshine, a curvy, irresistible form awaiting his pleasure. Her was dress off, and she sat, knees slightly parted, in only her chemise and front laced corset. Her breasts were large with prominent nipples that she loved to fondle, and have fondled. She had wide hips as well, and while her waist was proportional now, he knew enough of women that when she was older and had children, she would probably be dumpy. But her youth prevented that, and even as she aged, she would always have that mouth, with its full lips, lips that seemed almost permanently swollen given that she sucked so much cock. He knew she serviced many on the staff, and her voraciousness delighted him. She wore no cap as well as no dress, but her hair was still tied back from her face. A little frizz to her hair prevented a smooth line, which was lit up like a coppery halo around her head. Her eyes were downcast.

Alex flipped back the coverlet, revealing his nakedness and his cock, swollen from the need to piss, but she did not look up. Good girl. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stood, feet planted wide on either side of her legs. He stood before her then, semi-erect, and she looked up, not to his eyes, but to the eye of his prick, and licked her lips involuntarily.

Annabel stared for a moment at the young master's cock. It was swollen but not erect inside his long foreskin. When he was soft, the foreskin was long and loose enough to cover his entire cock, leaving the head hidden and secret. But now, it had swelled enough so just the pale pink, juicy eye peeked out. Given its full covering, the head was sensitive and Annabel longed to send her tongue into that little collar, digging and sucking. But she did not, fearing and longing for punishment that he doled out when she was too bold with him. She raised the porcelain bowl, at the same time grasping his prick, and aiming it there. He began to stream out, and the thin bowl warmed slightly in her left hand as the cock in her right softened as it streamed out his piss. When he had finished, she shook him gently and removed the bowl. He sat back upon the bed then, and she got up to put it aside for when she would empty it later. He stretched upwards then, his lean white body long and lithe. He was hairless upon his upper chest, but he did possess a great quantity of dark black hair in a trail upon his lower abdomen and a bush of it at his groin. His cock had retreated into its hidden sanctum, and Annabel longed to make it emerge. But she said nothing, as her young master preferred her silent and obedient to his will.

Cracking his back, the young master ordered her to bring him a cup of tea and kneel at his feet as he partook. She obeyed with alacrity. As he sat sipping his tea, he asked her a question. "Were you a good girl or a nasty girl yesterday, dear Annabel?"

Alex bit back a laugh as Annabel could not resist smiling her alley cat smile. "Oh, young master, I was very nasty with Mr. Crawford yesterday."

Alex made a little humming noise in the back of his throat. He knew that she sucked off his father's butler every day while he and his pater discussed estate business over luncheon. He put on a stern voice. "Nastier than being your cockhungry little self? Explain."

She looked up into his eyes. "May I touch myself as I tell you, young master? I fear I will not be able to restrain myself, and displease you."

Alex nodded. "It is good that you asked permission. As you are still training, I will permit you to touch yourself, but only your nipples. You must not touch your pussy, but if you can come by only fondling your nipples, you may."

"Oh thank you, young master," Annabel breathed. She pushed her breasts up and over the edge of her corset, so that they were crammed together, nipples exposed. They were like raspberries, red and fat and slightly nubbly. He knew from their month together that they were extremely sensitive. These berry nipples were surrounded by the large areolae that were puffy and upraised. The whole vision then was of large white breasts with huge puffy areolae and red nipples. It was delicious and amazingly pornographic -- Alex wondered at her breasts each time she exposed them.

She closed her eyes, leaned back her head, and presently began to speak. "I went to Mr. Crawford in his parlor as usual. But I had promised myself that I would not allow my hunger for his cock to overtake me. And so I undressed him and made him submit to me first, sitting him in his chair and propping his legs up. And then I fucked him with my fingers, making him squirm and beg for it. Sucking down the fluid I forced from his cock as I manipulated that nut inside him that drives men wild. And then he lost control, and came into my mouth so hard that I could not even swallow it all."

Alex watched her play with those nipples, strumming them and pinching them viciously, far harder than most men would touch them. "Oh, young master, I preyed upon his weakness. I know that he does not particularly desire women, desires a man's cock and a man's strength. I sympathize with him, for I too love what a man might do to me. So I played the man for him, and sucked him and fucked him with my fingers." Annabel gave her nipples tiny strokes now with her fingernails, and Alex watched her squirm. He wished to touch her, but he also wished to see if she could come just by fondling her own nipples and telling him of her nasty thoughts and deeds.

"And then, oh then young master, I was very bad." She rolled and pinched her nipples, and he could tell she was close to her climax. "When Mr. Crawford asked me what had brought about my change in behavior, why I had fucked him with my finger, I answered." Annabel paused, pinching and mauling her breasts, making little mewling noises and panting like a cat in heat.

"And what did you tell him, Annabel?" Alex asked softly, knowing the answer, and also knowing that he would have to punish her for it. His cock, which had been hardening as he watched the housemaid display herself, twitched and filled with even more blood. He did not touch himself, but did glance down to see that the head, pale pinkish purple, was peeking out of the foreskin, the dark-slitted eye moist and slippery.

"Oh sir, I told him that I had been playing a game with him. Amusing myself. And amusing you, young master." She gave both distended nipples another pinch, and then she climaxed at the thought and deed of betraying her naughty relations with the young master of the house.

As she came down from her climax, her knees gave way, so that she sat splayed between them, her calves cocked out with unnatural flexibility. Her ass and pussy now sat pressed on the floor, and she panted. Alex waited patiently for her to come to herself, and she looked up at him. "Was I too naughty, young master? Will you punish me?" At those words, she began to rub her pussy against the smooth wooden floor, seeking friction, and Alex knew it was time to take her in hand.

"You know that telling anyone about what we do together deserves punishment, Annabel." She lowered her eyes from his, but not all the way. Instead, she stared at his hardened prick. In an instant, he stood up off the bed and grabbed her by the upper arms, forcing her pliant body to its feet. "You've been nasty and naughty, little maid, and I will punish you this morning as you deserve." With that, he dragged her willing body into his private dressing area behind him. Facing away from her so she couldn't see him as they walked, he smiled broadly at the thought.