Mary Felix and the Irish Earl

London, April 1901

The Earl of Culligan was enjoying the spring sunshine in St James's Park in central London. Even though he had only arrived from Dublin a few days earlier, he had established a very pleasant afternoon routine encompassing a circuit of the lake and a stop for refreshment at a tea house on the edge of Birdcage Walk. From his seat outside, he could see Big Ben rising above the trees. A steady stream of hansom cabs and the occasional motor car passed him, and in the park, finely dressed gentlemen and ladies mingled with clerks and office girls. He watched them, his mind drifting idly as he smoked a cigarette.

A couple detached themselves from the throng and headed towards the tearoom. He noticed the girl straight away. Even though plainly dressed in maid's clothing and hatless, she was remarkably attractive, with unusually short dark hair that left her neck exposed. As she walked past his table, he was transfixed by her luminous green eyes and full lips. She gave him a glance and a quick smile, moving easily and gracefully, her splendid figure all too obvious under her tightly buttoned coat.

A beauty, no less. A full-blown English beauty, he thought to himself. They sat down at a table about ten feet from him, and he continued to study her discreetly. She did not look happy; in fact, her face was distressed, and as he strained to listen to their conversation, he had a good look at the man who was with her.

He did not like the look of him at all. A coarse, strongly built, fellow with a rough beard and thick dark hair, dressed in workman's clothes. As he watched, the man reached over the table and grasped the woman's upper arm.

She twisted away and he heard her say, 'No, I won't.'

He glanced around. The only other couple sitting outside had just left and were walking towards the pavement on Birdcage Walk.

A chair pushed back noisily, and he saw the woman was now standing rubbing her arm. She looked over at him, an unspoken appeal in her eyes. It was enough to spur him into action. Blood pumping, he rose and strode purposefully across to the table.

'Is this man bothering you, Miss?' he asked, before turning his glare on the man, who was now also rising from his seat.

'I don't really know who he is,' she said. Her voice had a thick West Country burr, he realised, as her words tumbled over each other. 'My mistress told me to meet her here at four o'clock, and when I was walking across the park, well, he just started talking to me and then followed me here.' She lowered her eyes, clearly embarrassed. 'He made an improper suggestion. Wants me to go with him. I told him I am not that sort of girl. Then he grabbed my arm.'

Culligan turned on the man in fury. 'You absolute bounder. Get out of it, or I will raise my cane to you, sir. Go on. Away with you!'

But the man stared belligerently back and stood his ground. 'Oo are you, anyway?'

The Irishman drew himself up and hissed, 'I am the Earl of Culligan and if you are not gone from this place in ten seconds then I will not be responsible for my actions.'

'Alright, I'm going. Pretty girl, ain't she?' He leered across the table. Then, as Culligan raised his cane, he turned and shuffled off. They watched him go in silence.

'Dreadful man. Come to my table, my dear. What a terrible experience for you. What is your name?' Culligan gently took her elbow and steered her back to where his coffee pot waited.

'Mary Felix, sir.'

'Well I am the Earl of Culligan, but my friends call me Alfred.'

'Oh no, sir, I couldn't do that. I'm just a lady's maid, and what with you being royalty and all.' She looked shocked at the thought.

He laughed, delighted by her naivety. 'I can assure you I am not of royal blood, Mary, just a common or garden Irish earl. And Alfred will do.'

'Mary, is that you?' a voice called out from behind him.

'My mistress is here,' said the girl, glancing over his shoulder.

He turned and just managed to stifle an exclamation. Another startlingly attractive woman was bustling over from the path. Her blonde hair was styled in tight ringlets and piled high and she was dressed in a pale blue dress with a small matching hat and carried a rolled-up parasol. As she neared their table, he realised she was older than Mary -- about thirty, he guessed.

He stood up to greet her and, as she met his eyes, for the second time in less than ten minutes he found himself bewitched. They were a bottomless shade of brown that seemed to ebb and flow in front of him as amusement, arrogance, passion, promise, and delight flitted across them in a beguiling kaleidoscope. He stared, momentarily transfixed.

In the background he heard Mary speaking and caught 'the Earl of Culligan'.

She held out her hand and he shook it, rapidly recovering from his shock. She had a melodious and surprisingly deep voice that seemed to embrace him with warmth.

'Mrs Georgina Beaufort, my lord. It appears we are in your debt.'

'It was very little, Mrs Beaufort. I merely did what any gentleman would do.'

'Yes, well, Mary has a history of getting into scrapes, I am afraid.' She lowered her voice and whispered, 'She got the looks, my lord, but she didn't get the brains to go with them.'

This confidence was accompanied by an arch look of such amused horror that the Irishman found himself grinning like a schoolboy, utterly charmed by the sheer charisma of the woman in front of him.

As the story was told, to Culligan's surprise, Mrs Beaufort seemed sceptical about Mary's role in the matter and questioned her closely. With the maid wide eyed and pleading innocence, the earl felt he had to step in.

'Having seen the matter unfolding before me, I think I can reassure you that Mary was the offended party.'

'Hmm, we'll see,' she replied, looking across the table at the girl. 'Mary has a chequered past and has not been with me very long. I have taken her on as an act of kindness after she was rescued from...' she paused and met his eye, 'a place of low reputation.'

'Ah, I see.'

'Quite. Well, anyway, enough of this. My lord, you must come to tea tomorrow and give me an opportunity to thank you properly for your noble act this afternoon.' Completely captured by the adoring looks Mary was giving him and the extraordinary charm of Mrs Beaufort, Culligan found he had little difficulty in accepting.

At half past four the following day, a cab dropped him at the entrance to Arundel Court and, following the instructions provided by Mrs Beaufort, he walked down the alley to the square and knocked on the shiny blue door. Mary herself opened it and welcomed him effusively. After taking his coat, she led him into a pleasant salon with a large bay window at one end and a settee and a bright fire at the other. A large and very attractively framed mirror was attached to the wall, he noticed.

Mrs Beaufort was waiting for him and smiled. 'My lord. Welcome to our humble home. How very nice to see you again.'

He was again captivated by her eyes but managed a little bow and took a seat opposite her. 'Do please call me Alfred, Mrs Beaufort. We are all friends here, I'm sure.' He beamed at her and managed to encompass Mary in the look as well.

'Then you must call me Georgina. Will you join me in a whisky and soda?'

'I would enjoy that, Georgina, thank you.'

She nodded to Mary, who moved over to a table where Culligan could see a collection of bottles and glasses. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her carefully pour the whisky and then struggle with the soda siphon, clearly unfamiliar with its operation. However, at last the drinks were served, and after Mary had left, he and Georgina had a very pleasant conversation for half an hour. She was a good listener and asked him interesting questions. He told her about his Irish estates and the importance of his role in the Irish Government before suddenly realising that he had barely given her a chance to speak at all.

'That's enough about me, Georgina. Do tell me about yourself and how you come to be living here in this delightful house.'

'Before I do, one more question for you, Alfred. Would you care for another whisky?'

He hesitated. The first one had been very strong, and he was feeling it, but before he could refuse, Georgina added, 'Do have one. I think that I will.' Without waiting for an answer, she walked to a bell button and pushed it, and thirty seconds later, Mary appeared. 'Two more whiskies,' she said.

Again Culligan noticed that her tone was distinctly short with the girl, but he supposed that, as Georgina was another woman, she was perhaps immune to her extraordinary beauty. He also noted that her maid's dress was of good quality cloth and surprising well fitted, pulled in tight around her waist and flaring gracefully out over the swell of her buttocks. The top was cut lower than he would have expected, and the deep valley of her breasts was enticingly evident as she bent over the drinks table.

Warmed and relaxed by the whisky, he watched as she walked carefully towards him, carrying his drink on a tray and smiling. He could see her nipples clearly underneath the fabric of her dress and felt a stir of lust. As he reached out for the glass, the girl stumbled in front of him. The tray tipped over, depositing the whisky in his lap, instantly soaking his trousers.

For a moment, pandemonium reigned as he stood up, frantically brushing with his hand whilst Mary wailed an apology, her hands at her face. Georgina leapt to her feet, her face suffused with fury.

'You foolish clumsy girl,' she cried. 'That is the second time in less than a week. What is wrong with you, child?'

'Oh, my lord, I am so sorry. Please forgive me.' The maid's plea was infused with rising panic as she stared at their visitor.

Culligan continued mopping with a handkerchief and replied, 'An accident, my dear. These things happen. It will dry in due course, I am sure.'

But Georgina was not to be mollified. Grasping Mary firmly by the arm, she steered her towards the settee opposite Culligan and sat down. 'I warned you that any more foolish behaviour would result in punishment, and I mean to keep my word.'

'Oh no, please, Mrs Beaufort, not in front of the earl,' pleaded Mary. But the blonde woman would not take no for an answer and pulled her forward. Culligan watched open-mouthed as Mary ended up braced face down over Georgina's knees.

'Apologies, my lord, but the time has come to teach this tiresome girl a lesson.'

So saying, she began to pull at the maid's dress, revealing shapely calves, then thighs, and finally a pair of wonderfully rounded and wriggling buttocks. She wore no underclothes, the earl noted, and he was reminded of the smiling Irish maids at his estate who would lift their skirts for a shilling. He watched, fascinated and increasingly aroused, as Georgina, now in complete control, pulled the dress up onto her back, leaving Mary naked from the waist down but for a pair of laced black boots.

'Perhaps after this you will be a little more careful, you clumsy girl.'

Raising her right hand, she began to firmly spank her buttocks, each flat crack echoing around the salon. Culligan stared, conscious of his rapidly swelling cock as Mary cried out and struggled most delightfully under the chastisement.

On and on it went until, faintly tanned though her skin was, the earl could see a strong red flush appearing across both cheeks. The maid was crying now, her face turned towards him as Georgina worked away, scolding and smacking with an enthusiasm that Culligan found arousing in itself.

Finally she stopped, breathless from her exertions. 'Stand up, child.'

Mary stood, and Culligan gasped as she turned to him. In her wriggling, the dress's front buttons had come undone and one of her magnificent breasts had fallen completely out. He stared at the big dark brown nipple and unconsciously licked his lips. As if that was not enough, the garment somehow remained rucked up at the front, so that as she stood, there was a long pause before it fell back into place.

In that moment he had a glorious view of her cunny shaved bare and plump, and, even more extraordinary, what looked like a serpent's head tattoo appearing from under the dress, its long tongue flickering downwards towards the thick fold of skin at the top of her cleft.

'For heaven's sake, adjust your dress, Mary.' Georgina's voice broke into his spellbound open-mouthed reverie. His poor cock was achingly hard, and he fervently prayed that he would not have to stand up for the next few minutes.

But it was not to be.

'Alfred, please take off your jacket and let this tiresome girl sponge it dry.'

'I... er...' He tailed off.

'It is the least we can do. Mary, help him with it.'

Reluctantly, he stood and turned to face the fireplace, hoping that the awkward bulge in his trousers was not too obvious. However, he was amazed when, as Mary came behind him and reached around to take the jacket, she breathed quite deliberately on his neck and her hand gently squeezed his cock, sending shockwaves through him. It was so quickly and skilfully done that he was certain Georgina noticed nothing.

The blonde waved her away and out of the room before smiling at Culligan and resuming her conversation.

'My apologies again, Alfred. I am sorry you had to witness that unfortunate scene, but I do believe that firm treatment is needed for one's staff, and it is best done immediately.'

'Spare the rod and spoil the child, Georgina,' agreed Culligan, and the conversation moved on to other things.

It was only much later that night, as he was getting undressed to go to bed, that he realised there was a piece of paper in his jacket pocket. Unfolding it, he read a short note, written in an untutored hand.

Cum tomorrow at 2pm. She will be out. Bak door. M

He stared at it for a long time, a smile slowly breaking out on his face as his groin stirred in anticipation.

The following day, with his heart beating noticeably harder than normal, the earl rapped firmly on the back door of Arundel Court with his cane. The door swung open and Culligan could not help grinning with delight. The girl had changed into a low-cut red dress that suited her colouring, and with her short hair brushed and eyes glowing under her fringe, she looked utterly beguiling. A relieved smile suffused her face as she saw him.

'I thought you weren't coming, sir. Thought maybe you weren't interested in me.'

'No, no, Mary,' he hurried to reassure her. The girl's naivety really was quite delightful, he thought. 'I was delighted to receive your charming note, and here I am.'

She stepped aside and said, 'Shall we go into the room where we were yesterday, sir?'

'If you like, and it is Alfred, please, Mary. You must call me Alfred.'

'Very well... Alfred.' She gave a delicious giggle as she tried it out. 'Fancy me being on first names with a member of the royalty. If only my mum could hear me.'

This time Culligan did not bother to correct her, partly because he was eyeing her delicious buttocks moving beneath her tightly fitting dress. He suspected that, as with the previous afternoon, she was wearing nothing beneath it, and his head swam at the thought.

Within moments he was sitting on the same settee as before, with the girl next to him.

'So your mistress is out, Mary?'

'Yes, Alfred, for all afternoon,' she said. 'Leaving me here all alone and bored.' She pouted a little, and Culligan realised that her red lips matched her dress. Really, every part of her was perfect.

'Then we'll have to entertain you somehow, won't we?' he remarked. 'Tell me, Mary, why did you send me that lovely little note?'

The girl took a deep breath then replied, her words coming out in a rush, the Devonian burr strongly pronounced. 'When the mistress chastised me yesterday, I liked it that you were watching. Being a handsome milord and all. I imagined it was you doing it. That you were my lord and master and I had been a bad girl, and you were holding me down and spanking my bottom before having your way with me. It made me wet, Alfred. That is why I touched you, and why I sent you that note. I know it's naughty of me, but I'm a girl with strong desires...'

She tailed off as Culligan, heart beating wildly, placed his hand on her knee and leant forward. 'My dear Mary, your honesty does you great credit, and I can assure you that I would like nothing better than what you propose.'

She looked at him, suddenly embarrassed. 'Mrs Beaufort told you I'd come from, a place of low reputation. It's true. Gentlemen paid for my favours.' She hesitated and wrung her hands in her lap, 'And I was paid to provide them.'

A knowing smile appeared on Culligan's face. 'I imagine even in London a maid's wages are modest, Mary, but I am a wealthy man, and I am sure we can come to some arrangement. A generous arrangement.'

He looked at the relief flooding across her face and his heart leapt with affection at her simplicity and lack of guile. 'I would be very grateful, Alfred. Very grateful indeed.' She licked her lips. 'Would you spank my bottom now? I'd like it, but I'd best be naked if you do.'

Speechless, Culligan could only nod. With a look that spoke volumes about the pleasures to come, she stood up, walked over to the mirror and looked at him in the reflection. 'I like mirrors,' she said, starting to slowly unbutton the front of her dress. 'I like what you see in them. I like watching myself. You can sit there and watch too, my lord.' She completed the buttons and gently pulled the top of the dress apart, then shrugged it down off her shoulders, stopping it at her waist.

'Saints alive, Mary, you are perfect.' Culligan stared open-mouthed at her nakedness in the mirror. Her breasts were quite extraordinary, and the tattoo added a level of exoticism to her beauty that made his head swim. His cock was straining, and he shifted on the settee but managed to remain seated.

Holding the dress with one hand, she cupped her heavy left breast and lifted it, staring open-mouthed at herself whilst she did so. Bending her head downwards, she stretched out her tongue and licked the fat brown nipple before sucking it into her mouth. It was fully erect when she released it.

'That felt nice, Alfred,' she whispered.

'What about the tattoo?' he said faintly, his throat dry.

'They made me have it. At the place before. Do you want to see where it ends?

'Oh yes, I do, Mary. Most fervently.'

She giggled. 'Naughty, naughty, Alfred. Perhaps I should be the one spanking you.' Turning to him, she released the dress and stepped out of it to stand fully naked apart from her laced-up boots. 'They made me shave myself down there as well. The woman in charge said the gentlemen would like it. I have kept doing it out of habit. Do you like it, Alfred?'

He nodded, rendered speechless by the vision in front of him.

Smiling, she walked over to him, her breasts swinging gently. As if in a dream, Culligan stood and they kissed, long, passionate, and open-mouthed, their tongues entwined and pulses racing. His hands stroked her back and reached down to lift and squeeze her buttocks.

At length she broke off and said breathlessly, 'Take off your jacket and shirt, Alfred.'

He pulled them off with frantic haste.

'Now sit down on the settee just like Mrs Beaufort did yesterday.' He obeyed unhesitatingly. She leant forward, her breasts hanging down as she gracefully stretched out over his knee. Somehow in the process she managed to give his cock a firm squeeze through his trousers. He moaned in anticipation. 'Now then, Alfred. Chastise me firmly. Don't hold back.'

He raised his right hand and brought it down with a brisk slap onto her right buttock. The firm flesh rippled as he repeated the blow. He heard her sigh and relax, her legs spreading wider.