An Arrangement of Sorts Ch. 04

There was no one else in the whole place today, and she walked to one of the lower turrets and she spread her blanket and removed her clothes, hoping to maybe get a little bit of a tan.

But before long, the sounds from the high turret got to her and she spread her legs to enjoy more than the sunshine. She fully intended to tell the Lady about what she was doing and why. They'd become friends and always shared their thoughts. It was how Gwendolyn measured her performance in her job. It was what she believed her role to be in the castle and she treasured Joss' friendship.

When Chris had gone inside to bring them something to drink, Joss looked over the turret for a few moments, savoring the tickle of his seed as it ran down her leg. She'd had a clue that something like this might happen, since she'd gotten to know her paid servant rather well. She looked down and sighed with contentment.

Joss had few if any inclinations toward her own sex, she just thought that it was a beautiful thing to see, her lovely servant girl pleasuring herself in the sun below her on the warm stones of the turret. She smiled, thinking about how well she and Gwen seemed to work together on the many tasks which made up the workload of a modern-day Countess and knew that she'd be lost without her. Besides working well together, they shared one other thing between them, and it had come about because, well, ...

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Gwendolyn knew all of the tawdry tales of the incestuous or otherwise forbidden relationships that had gone on in the place and they both loved to tell each other naughty stories the odd time. Joss didn't think she was very good at it herself, but Gwen loved to listen and she was interested in the way that Joss painted scenes of where she was from.

Gwen was such a fine storyteller that the two of them had a lot of fun as the sordid past sprang to life in the Northern accent of the servant as they sat together before the fireplace late at night when Chris was in another town and not back yet. They'd been a bit embarrassed at first, but then they'd just laughed about it and it had become something of a semi-regular thing that they just enjoyed now and then.

Gwen had asked Joss one time to tell of any slightly dirty tale that she might know, and having none to tell, Joss had told her of her own tale of the collar and on later evenings, she told of some of the things that she liked to do, both as the slave and as Chloe, before and after beginning with Chris, going back to her childhood and the way that she'd loved to just run around naked given half the chance. She told of her close calls and some of her adventures at college. Once it had become a regular sort of thing - the telling of the tales - as they called it, Gwen's own mild fetish had made itself known and Joss had given her the gift which had cemented their friendship.

Gwendolyn had asked if she might put the cloak on right then and Joss had nodded, smiling. "I hope you find a good man for yourself one day very soon who shares your want of a collar," she said, "I kind of like the idea of the cult of the collar and the cloak."

"I do as well," Gwen had replied, "If I had my way - the way that wearing this makes me feel, there'd be a lot of us and this would be the livery of the slaves. I think there would be a lot more smiling around here then. The old place needs that more than anything, though it looks a lot cheerier with you and his Lordship here now."

The 'livery of the slaves' quickly became the dress for the evening, whenever they had the chance to tell their tales. They always started out wearing the cloaks over their clothes, but the cloaks were discarded after the fireplace got going. It was just the way to set the mood for the stories, that was all. There really wasn't any more to it than that - two friends telling stories.

Joss had seen that Gwen was a kindred spirit even before the night that she'd listened spellbound as the servant girl told of one of her own ancestors. The tale concerned a girl who'd loved nothing more than to make her way to the stables on carefully chosen evenings so that she could be bound by the wrists with leather thongs and used by the well-built stable hands on duty on those nights, though there had been a sad end.

One was her brother and the other a close cousin, after all. But it was fun while it lasted until her husband found out one night, Gwen laughed and Joss had nodded that it must have been. Though she had no particular interest in incest, she just liked the naughtiness of it all.

"I just wonder if this is too naughty," Joss smiled.

"Not by half," her friend said, "That was a mild tale. I only brought it up because of the way that she liked to be bound and because she was an ancestor of mine. I thought you'd just like to hear one like that."

Well, I did," Joss grinned, "That was fun."

"You want fun, Mistress, then you just make sure you've got a hard little toy with you when you think about the tales I'll tell the next time," Gwen said with a wink, "I know a few that you'll need one to remember them with if you're alone, trust me. I've another ancestor who was the tax collector. That job had some perks to it, I daresay."

She smiled thoughtfully, "I'm so happy for your friendship and I love the way that we always laugh and enjoy our time with these stories."

Joss agreed, "The way that we usually have to run from one place to another one day and spend the next bogged down in papers, Gwen, I just love these times too."

"Are you ready for another one, then?" she asked.

Joss nodded as she sipped her brandy.

"There's a guarded little story about the Gossip's Pillory. It's an ordinary pillory or whipping post where a person's neck and arms would be retrained, but it was separate from the usual one. It still exists. I can show it to you. It's shorter than the normal height, but then, "she smirked, "it was all about access back then as you'll see, wasn't it?

It was reserved for gossips who often spread unsavory and dirty little stories about people. If they were charged and the rumors found to be fanciful lies, the gossip was put there. The odd time that it was a man, he was just whipped, but, ...

For women, it was a week on the Gossip's Pillory. It was actually more like a long afternoon, really. Seven men were chosen, one for each day of the week. The accuser, if he was a man, was never allowed to be one of the seven. If the gossip was married, her husband was always among the seven. Failing that or if her husband refused, the gossip could name one man of her choice if she wanted. Sometimes she was allowed to have both, but then the husband knew who it was that she fancied, yeah? It could be a dangerous choice.

The Gossips Pillory is on the top of one of the lower turrets, not really in sight of the ground, but well in sight of the tower since the Lord and the Lady would watch most often. Anyway, the men were hooded and they'd have the gossip once each at intervals of one hour. Each man would leave after his turn and the gossip would be freed at sundown.

The redhead chuckled softly, "I do have my own dark history here, you know," she hinted mysteriously, "I used to come here at night sometimes. Some of the girls in the village would come for a little fun with their boys, just the usual teenage stuff. I used to do that as well, but I found a way to take it farther in keeping with the history of this old place. Just coming here for a kiss and a bit of a fumble was for those who lacked a sense of the past.

But me Joss, "she smiled wickedly, "being descended from this place and its past, and knowing who I am, well, I wanted to do it differently. I've never told this to a soul, but I am a little proud of myself in my heart for what I used to do here then. I was never the kind like you who had her fun in the daytime, as lovely as it sounds to me when you tell it. You make it sound so dreamy. I loved the night for my adventures."

Joss blinked in the silence. "Well, are you gonna tell me?"

"I don't know," Gwendolyn chuckled, "You're my employer. I wouldn't want to risk losing my job over it."

Joss shook her head, "Nope, you don't have to worry 'bout that, Gwen. What kind of friend would I be then?"

She looked over hopefully, "Was it dirty?"

The servant nodded, "About the naughtiest thing I've ever done - and I did it as often as I could manage it!" She laughed, "For something like this, I ought to charge a price to tell it. It's a little delicious - at least I think it is."

"Then I need to hear it now," Joss smiled, "What kind of price?"

"I dunno," her friend said, "something small, I think. Something that shows our friendship and binds us both to the telling of the tales. What do you think?"

Joss thought about what she knew of Gwen and then looked up chuckling. "I've got just the thing!"

She stood up and left the room, returning a minute later and they both laughed at the new collar that she placed in Gwen's hands.

"For when you find that man," Joss smiled.

Gwen was actually a little touched. "I was only fishing for another snifter-full of brandy, Joss. Thank you so much."

Joss shrugged as she poured the brandy, "We're pretty much the same. We just like being a little helpless. I keep hearing about folks who go way too far, from what I've heard. And we both like the tales, right? Now come on, Gwen, spill it."

Gwen smiled as she sat back after a sip, "Well, I used to date a set of twins when I was about nineteen. We'd come here sometimes late at night. They'd tie me into the stocks and then they'd have their way for a time. They could do anything they wanted, other than hurt me, and the two of them would drive me mad teasing me with their hands everywhere on me - and I couldn't do a thing about it.

They had their hands and fingers everywhere, and they brought a small crate so that one of them could stand on it facing me while the other would tease me. They knew just the right way to do it, too, and after only a minute or two of that, and I'd suck anything that was in front of my mouth for all I was worth. But in the pillory, you had to be careful and slow so that you wouldn't choke. It made my desire even worse!

After they'd each had me a couple of times, I'd just barely be able to stand, half-limp and incredibly happy in the stocks."

She smiled, remembering, "Then they'd let me free and I'd just sink to the ground in a heap and they'd fuck me any way that they wanted. After standing in the stocks there for a little while - and it wasn't uncomfortable at all, just restraining - all that I could do was moan like a hound aching for his bitch. We had to be careful that I didn't make too much noise, of course, but it was great fun.

I always hoped for nights with at least a little bit of a moon after the first time, because I looked up once while I was on the ground and I saw the old Lord looking down at me from the high turret. We could see each other easily and I knew that he was watching - just like the old days."

She threw her head back and laughed a little, "Your husband's grandfather always liked to watch me being fucked and I tried to arrange it so that he could see us easily by moonlight. He never made a sound, and my two boyfriends never knew. It was just the old Lord and I who shared this. We even used to smile at each other, if I could manage to do it and not have my men notice."

She lowered her voice to a whisper. "I'll only tell this to you, Joss. What I really wanted then was for my handsome twins to leave when they were finished - just to leave me there alone, well-fucked and naked on the top of the low turret of this castle. It was always a little cold there at that time of night, but I always had enough blankets to be under. It was plain enough what I was doing there."

She looked into the flames of the fire for a long moment. "I doubt a lot of women my age would understand it, and I don't know if you would, either, my dear friend, but I'd have given anything just to have the Lord come down to me there and talk with me. He knew how I love this place and its history. I saw him once a year or so later in the pub sitting alone, so I sat down and we talked all evening. He told me that he'd always enjoyed it when he'd seen me there on the turret with my two boys. He winked and said that as long as the place had a lusty wench like me around, it would always have a life. He meant it earnestly, and I was honored to hear it from him."

She sipped her brandy a moment. "I was happy only to have him near me and talking with me about the place, but I'd have let him have me too if he'd asked. I'd have considered it a high honor to have had the Earl myself just once. He was a widower in his sixties then, and I've heard that he wasn't exactly inactive either, but he was handsome and I'd have done my best for him and considered it my privilege to service my lord sort of like the old days."

She sighed, "I do hope he had a good wank from it every time, but I'll never know, will I?"

"So," Gwen smiled, "Was my story worth the price?"

Joss nodded and they laughed over it. "What do you mean, the old days?"

Gwen laughed, "There's no real way to tell about every time that it happened, but other than the proper marriages to lesser family members, and that happened twice, there are at least four other times that it is possible that my bloodline crosses with the Moreths. You know, little bastards here and there, the products of a Moreth woman having her fun, or one of my family's wenches keeping a Moreth man happy in a situation where their hearts ruled but nothing could be spoken of. It's still going on, you know.

Why do you think Lady Bethany never married? She's loved my uncle forever, but the match wasn't good enough because the families are too close so they stayed single, but happy with each other. I daresay that if there was a way to know for certain, your husband and I are very likely related in more ways than it would be prudent to know and reveal to outsiders. I'm certain that the last crossing of our lines happened within the last century for sure."

Gwen looked at Joss, "Do you ever think about our stories and you know, fool with yourself sometimes when you've a chance? I certainly do, and I'll admit it to you alone."

Joss shook her head, "No," but she blushed bright red, and nodded then with a bit of an embarrassed chuckle.

"Yeah, I do sometimes. Your stories are just so good, Gwen."

"Well if his Lordship is late getting home some night, get your fingers started with my tale, Joss. This is partly about me, after all. I'll take it as an insult if my own dirty little predilections aren't worth you squishing yourself over and I may not tell you any more then." She sniffed a little haughtily.

"Aw, please, Gwen," Joss laughed, "I need to hear more now! Did the punishment stop the gossiping?"

Gwen shook her head. "It didn't really work with a lot of the women."

She smirked. "Most of them would go home and hold their tongues for only a little while until the talk died down. Then they'd start all over again because they liked being fucked like that. They couldn't get away with something like that today, for obvious reasons. but back then, the lords had all the power, didn't they?"

"But it does leave us a lot of juicy stories, doesn't it?" Gwen smiled and chuckled, "We're just awful, aren't we?"

Joss nodded, "We are surely going straight to Hell for this. Go on."

"Well, the Lord stopped the practice of the seven men, since it wasn't helping to quell the spread of the lies, and he changed the punishment to seven strokes of the lash and one man, rather than seven."

Joss gasped, "Just one?"

"Yes," Gwen smiled, "Just one, the hangman. From what I've been told, he was a great uh, big burly bear of a man, and he could go all afternoon."

Joss stared, but she loved this. "Did the rumors stop then?"

Gwen smiled, "No. I'm told that there were still two women who kept it up and told even more lies which were easily found out, since they started to tell them about each other. The Lord had to banish them in the end out of desperation. It was either that or kill them." Gwen grinned, "The pen may be mightier than the sword, but nothing stops a naughty tale if there's a good fucking to it."

Both of them collapsed in laughter.

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Joss turned and smiled as her husband walked out to her, offering a Mason jar of tea. They sat and sipped awhile in silence, holding hands.

"You know?" she smiled, "You couldn't buy a day like this for anything. Are you happy here, Chris? Are you sure that you wouldn't rather be a marshal again?"

"I kind of miss it," he said, "but I like life here with you a lot better. You never mentioned it, but I knew that you were afraid that something might happen to me one day. I think that was what made it easier to just tell Aunt Bethany yes. I mean, I knew what was at staked for my relatives and all, but I wanted this with you, Joss, and that made the choice just that much clearer.

"I don't ever want to be without you again," she said, "I couldn't sleep a wink for worry until you came home. Now my life feels like a storybook where I have to dust off the pages of the old stuff and write new pages every day with you here."

Chris nodded, smiling as he watched Joss lie down on the stone table again. He produced the ropes to tie her wrists to the loops carved into the stone.

Gwen didn't know for certain that her mistress had just been laid out on the old table and fucked well by the Lord, but she was at least a little sure of it and she hoped that they'd do it again. That was what the table had been made and placed there for long ago, for days such as this. That was why she'd told the Lord about it and suggested the traditional sheep skins. Joss wasn't the first Countess who had liked to be something of a slave to her lord.

There was no relationship between them, other than professional and the memories of when she'd dreamed of him when she was a girl, but Gwen still liked and admired Chris anyway and had struggled for a while to suggest it to him. She'd meant every word that she'd said and she knew that he'd understand it.

In a few minutes, Gwendolyn smiled as her hands began again, hearing the cries of her friend once more. She looked forward to hearing what it had been like for Joss and she really hoped that one warm day with the right man, she could try it too.

She hadn't met the man yet, but she was certain that her friend would allow her the use of the table.

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Shannon opened the door in response to the sound of the doorbell. She smiled.

"Boy, you just won't take 'no' for an answer, huh?"

"Where's Chris?" Julie asked.

"Far away," Lucas said as he walked up, "He doesn't live here anymore. We rent the place from him, that's all."

"Well, where can I find him then?"

"England," Shannon grinned, "he lives there these days in a big old house - and I mean real big and real old, with his wife the Countess and his dog. It's that way," she pointed, "you just fly that way. Hang a left about the time you get to Spain," she said, closing the door.

The End

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**To my knowledge, there is no Earl (or anything else) of Moreth. This is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any person living or dead, ... well, you know the score, right? O_o