Over the Lap of Luxury Pt. 07 - End

When she backed away, she pinched his cheek. This time, the one on his face. Then she patted his head, and his own bright pink blush told the rest of the story to any onlookers. It sure looked like his old classmate just came to gloat over their dramatic difference in status.

"I hope you're a good boy tonight," she teased.

"I'll be good, ma'am," he said, soft and embarrassed.

The password is backwards. Why didn't Miles tell Nick or Portia? All Asher could suppose was that none of the closest co-conspirators wanted to be seen talking privately to one another tonight. Miles was particularly skittish about that.

Eventually, so long into the night that a few couples had already departed, it seemed enough time had passed since the last time a servant from the Darrow household caused a major scene. Portia looked over her shoulder at him, checking him. Twice now. Sean and Molly had long since returned to their positions by the rest of the servants at the back wall, fully clothed but still looking shamefaced. Asher's hands felt shaky already. This was it. Any second now.

Portia had her phone out, appearing to remind Nick of some event using her camera roll. And then, quick as could be, she ran a little hacked applet Molly created, signalling a false medical emergency in his smart-band. The thin strip of silicone on his wrist began to buzz and flash bright red, beeping loudly. Several servants nearby startled, but Asher could only do what he'd rehearsed again and again. He swayed a little, rolled his eyes up, and forced himself to go down fast and hard, only hoping Sean would be quick enough to catch him.

Sean tried, but Asher went right through his arms on the way to the floor. About a dozen witnesses gasped in shock, and he wanted to join them all. It really hurt to fall that hard, especially due to the way he landed directly on his shoulder. But he held back his cry of pain. As he lay as still as could be, he decided that it probably looked even more realistic.

Things happened quickly after that. Asher heard heavy, fast footsteps coming his way. "Don't worry everyone," said Nick. "He does this sometimes. Has womanly fits."

After that embarrassing phrasing, Nick came over to make it even worse. He stuck one muscled arm under Asher's legs and another under his upper back. With some horror, Asher realized Nick was going to bridal-carry him. All he could do was stay completely limp as Nick all too easily scooped him up, bringing him to another room.

"Hurry," said Nick, just as soon as Asher was deposited onto something soft. "I don't think you'll have much time. The old bat looked suspicious."

He opened his eyes now that the coast was clear, taking in his surroundings. It was a small room, lit by only one lamp, featuring some armchairs and couches and a mirror-topped liquor cabinet. They were far enough away from the party that he could barely hear any of the fake laughter at all now. "I'll hurry," he promised. "Is there a Mr. Bennett? I haven't seen him all night."

"A few years ago the man escaped with his life, bless his soul, but she refused to sign the divorce papers. Now go, boy, you won't have a better chance than now. She's busy saying all her goodbyes."

"Yes, sir."

Nick stayed with him for just long enough to show some concern for his supposedly ailing servant boy. He crossed his arms and watched as Asher began his practiced routine, using the paper hidden in his shoe to find every event at the right date, time, and camera location. He saw that Portia's assistant Raj, the one who wrote all this out, had left him a little message in his neat cursive. You'll do great! That kindness brought him an extra bit of courage and hope.

With the password Miles provided, and knowing it was backwards now thanks to Remie, getting into the security system was easy. The only difficulty was how long it took each file to download. The cameras recorded videos like they were going to be released for theatres. Needlessly large files.

"It'll take twenty to thirty minutes," guessed Asher. Nick sighed, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, sir."

"Alright," he said. "Keep going. You absolutely can't miss a single one."

"Sir..." asked Asher. He couldn't help but notice that the very first video he downloaded didn't depict Sean being punished too severely, but instead featured some kind of conversation between Mrs. Bennett and some decrepit old man.

"Yes?"

"Is this really about Sean and-"

"Obey your orders, boy," he said cooly. "You wouldn't want to disappoint your mistress."

"Yes, sir," he said, contrite and quiet again.

Asher focused on the downloading files, mentally willing them to hurry. More and more people were leaving the party, now in little groups at a time. He heard the occasional increase in volume as guests headed past his room and out the main entrance.

Twenty-five minutes passed like this, his heart speeding simply while watching blue bars with increasing percentages. The current file was taking forever to download, and there was still one more video to find.

Then he heard the footsteps.

High heels. Usually it signified Portia was on her way, but all the ladies were wearing them to this party. The door swung open, and Asher slid the phone and slip of paper into his pocket. Mrs. Bennett peered in at him, her hands on her hips.

"I know what you're doing in there, boy."

He looked up at her, stricken with horror. How did she know? Someone ratted them out. They must have.

"You have quite a scheme going. How do you do it? Hold your breath until the smart-band goes off? Then you fake a collapse and get to lounge around for as long as you like."

He looked down, hiding his relief that she didn't quite understand. Unfortunately, he now saw his phone creating a glow through his pants. If she grabbed that phone to see what he was doing, it would all be over.

The only idea he had was reckless and stupid and if this wasn't about helping Sean like he thought, and about some more petty billionaire drama, he'd be risking it all for nothing. Too many of the videos showed cryptic visits with people he didn't recognize. But why would Portia keep the truth from him? What was she hiding?

"Well boy?" asked Mrs. Bennett. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Um," he cleared his throat. "Well, ma'am..."

He thought of Portia. What kindness she'd shown him and Molly both, even when she punished them. Would she really just use him after all that? Would she so maliciously deceive him?

Maybe he was being naive, but Asher decided she wouldn't.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," he said quietly. "You're right. I did it on purpose. I held my breath. My legs were so tired standing there all night and I just-"

"I've heard enough!" she scolded him. "Portia clearly doesn't spank you very hard if this is how you act. So I'm going to teach you a good lesson about playing sick. Come with me!"

This couldn't happen now, he knew. He had to get the final file. Nick said he couldn't miss a single one. His plan wasn't great, and would get his bottom into even more hot water, but it was all he had.

Asher suddenly pushed past Mrs. Bennett and took off, as though in childish terror of his punishment. Now he was running blindly through the mansion, his shoes sometimes slipping over all the ornate carpets, knowing Mrs. Bennett was going to send someone after him. Ladies like her didn't run or give chase, especially not in heels.

Only two turns at this speed made him lost and disoriented, and he drew attention to himself with all the running. The caterers, cleaning in the kitchen, looked up at him. It seemed to them that he was a thief, as they began yelling, "Stop! Stop!" He turned another corner, finding himself in a dead end. The best place to hide was by a couch, so he rolled himself right under it, yanking his phone and paper from his pocket to finish the last download.

He scrolled the dial to August, as footsteps neared. Then he flicked a finger up only once to the second day of the month. Voices sounded. "Where is he?"

"He has to be in one of these three rooms. I'll check the bathroom."

His fingers shook a little now, but he found the one p.m. time slot, and now just had to choose the camera. There were at least fifty different cameras indoors and out, and they weren't in alphabetical order. He had to keep scrolling. Dining room, dining room... he repeated in his head, scrolling through the list.

"There he is!" he heard.

Someone grabbed him by his ankles, and he fought against them to find that last surveillance recording and complete his job. Clinging to the foot of the couch with one hand, his free hand finally found the right camera. He pressed download and clicked his phone's screen off. Then he slid everything back into his pocket and rolled out from under the couch, surrendering himself.

The caterers that helpfully chased him down soon had his hands pinned behind his back, frog marching him away from the kitchen area and down the long corridor again. Nobody paid any attention to his phone or his pocket. "We got him!" called the head caterer.

There were very few people left, as hardly anyone could suffer Mrs. Bennett's company for long. Only the Darrow household remained, alongside Sean and Miles.

"Asher," said Portia. She sounded disappointed, but her eyes didn't truly agree. "You were malingering? Running from your spanking? Pushing Mrs. Bennett? Is that all true?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, playing along.

"Well! I am truly sorry for my servant boy's insolent behaviour, Prudence. The moment we get home, I'll get his paddle and teach him some manners."

"He ought to be thoroughly thrashed. Right here and now! Then the judicial officers can do with him what they will."

Asher paled, and it was very real this time. But no brief bout of unconsciousness would come to blanket him into safety. He swivelled his head from Mrs. Bennett to Portia to Nick. No one spoke a word in his defence. After all that, after all he risked to help them out. He trusted the Darrows, and this was going to be his repayment?

Mrs. Bennett had taken him by the arm, and before he knew it he was being bent over the couch. Her hands were around his belt, unbuckling, and then unbuttoning and unzipping so rapidly. She had quite a lot of practice with poor Sean. All too quickly his pants and underwear were around his ankles, and the cool air kissed his shivering skin.

Her foot kicked his legs wide apart, and her hand pushed him down further against the couch cushions. His bottom was up prominently now, and his legs spread to an embarrassing degree. All his possible dignity drained out of him. He was nothing more than a helpless servant boy at her mercy.

"Sean, fetch the heavy cane!"

There was a strange, uncomfortable silence for a few long seconds, before Sean acquiesced. "Yes, ma'am."

Asher then felt the sting of Mrs. Bennett's flat palm delivering sharp spanks to his posterior. It burned hot, and still paled in comparison to the betrayal sinking past his heart and into his stomach. Hot tears began to spill down his cheeks, and before he knew it he was weeping through a simple hand-spanking, before the cane had even once touched his flesh.

A loud ding broke through the heavy moment, startling Mrs. Bennett into freezing her hand over his bottom instead of adding another spank to his rosy cheeks.

"What was that?"

"Asher!" scolded Portia. But that was Molly's phone, he was sure of it! How unfair, yet again. "I told you that if you didn't mute that phone during work hours, you'd lose it for a month. I've absolutely had it with you today."

She fumbled around his pants, pooled at his ankles, and retrieved it. The whole confusing event only made him cry harder. He remembered how she'd given the expensive phones to him and Molly both to settle them into their new roles. It was like a promise that life wouldn't be so bad there with her, as long as they behaved and listened. Now she'd taken that little security away, and he was left confused and frightened and more alone than he'd felt in ages. His stomach began to ache from all the sobbing, though it didn't seem to stop Mrs. Bennett from continuing to warm his backside. Nothing made sense to him anymore.

Sean's arrival was marked with a scolding and another break in his spanking. "What is this? Sean! That's the lightest cane we have. I said he was due for a real thrashing. You can just bend over the couch beside him. Miles! Get the heavy cane!"

The man, mild-mannered and just as dapper as Portia's own personal assistant, didn't obey his order. There was no Yes, ma'am and no footsteps.

"No," said Nick. "He won't."

"The boy needs to learn a lesson. His behaviour tonight was abhorrent!"

"He's done nothing wrong," said Portia. "Aside from pushing you out of his way, for which he's just been soundly spanked, he was following my orders."

Asher looked up at last, seeing his mistress through a veil of squirming tears. The pain in his heart began to ease as he prayed his ears were hearing what he thought and hoped. She must have only taken his phone earlier to ensure he'd downloaded all the videos.

"Following orders?" she gasped. "Explain yourselves."

"Come here, Asher," said Portia, ignoring Mrs. Bennett for the time being.

The servant boy was so relieved that scampered to her side whilst pulling up his pants. The two ignored Mrs. Bennett, flustered and floundering. Portia hugged Asher tight and stroked his hair and pat his back. "There there," she soothed him. "You're safe, sweetheart. My good boy."

Now all his tears were ones of pure relief. He bent his head forward to lay it on her shoulder, soaking up her gentle touches. Through all of his own weeping, he had trouble taking in what Portia said next. It was a long string of names, most of which followed "Senator" and "Representative" and even once or twice "Justice." From what he could gather, some were victims of her blackmailing enterprise, and some were helping provide her with the videos or pictures.

Mrs. Bennett made very little reply, quietly crossing her arms. "You can't prove any of that. These are all completely unfounded allegations! Get out of my home!"

"Gladly," said Nick.

Asher couldn't quite believe it, that they were just going to leave and let her find a way to cover it all up again, but he knew better than to disobey by now. So he just followed along, and Molly took his hand to comfort his intense emotions even further.

Just outside the mansion, they were met with a couple of agents who looked about as official as it could get. Asher guessed maybe they were from the FBI, especially considering that Mrs. Bennett wasn't the only one with connections. Nick and Portia apparently had such confidence in their servants that they called them in advance.

The men brushed past them as they headed into the still-open front door.

The next morning, Sean and Miles sat at the kitchen table across from Molly and Asher. The two young men held hands as they ate, enjoying their newfound freedom and safety.

Portia had hired them onto her own estate, especially considering how much help they were to the cause. After their day off today, Miles was going to organize her staff and take the extra responsibility off of her own personal assistant Raj, and Sean would no longer be a servant, but just a handyman the Darrows would keep on call. If anyone ever spanked him again, it would only be Miles, and only with all his permission.

The plan last night had been a complete success, down to Miles giving a lot of the blackmailing evidence over to the agents, aside from a couple now-destroyed pictures of Nick Darrow and a floor cleaning bot, of course.

Now that the videos were uploaded to the proper authorities, Asher had the hard, rectangular security blanket in his hand once more. All was made right again in his world. Though, not so much in Mrs. Bennett's world.

It was all over the news already that she'd been arrested. First it was listed that she'd been charged with abusing her servant. Now, this morning, the headlines were updated to include her blackmailing scheme. The political world was a mess, and Asher wished he understood more about that and what it would mean.

He planned to find Portia to inquire more after breakfast, but she found him and Molly instead. "My darlings," she said, kissing their heads. "You did so well. Have I told you that already?"

Twice since last night. But they thanked her for the third time.

"Ma'am, was this your plan?" asked Asher. He showed her an article from a news site, and Portia squinted at it to look. The piece spoke of talks to repeal a lot of the laws that allowed for the Robotics Revolution to get so out of hand, causing so many jobs to be decimated in such a short period of time. Many of those who voted for them were caught up in the scandal in some form or another.

"Well, Asher, all I know is that depressions are very bad for business. Even Darrow-Tech. And if the government has a good excuse to reexamine what led them to this point, then who am I to stop them?"

That was as close as she'd get to saying that she, like Asher, didn't at all enjoy watching people starve, go homeless, and become violent. She patted his hair and quickly moved on to more personal matters instead. After all, she had a reputation to uphold.

"Now, we need to talk. Just us three."

Sean and Miles took the cue to head outside for a stroll on the sprawling estate grounds. It seemed impossible for either young man to let go of the other's hand.

"So, you know by now that you were hired under false pretenses. I needed you to do this job, and you did very well with it. But now it's done. So if you do not wish to remain in servitude here, Nick and I both understand. We'll break the contracts, offer you a severance package, and Nick can return you to your old jobs at Darrow-Tech. But you're also invited to live here just as before, continuing your five years as my servants. By that time, surely the country will be in a much better place. Either way, the choice is yours."

Molly and Asher looked at each other, not taking considerably long to think it over. Both went to their mistress and snuggled under the embrace of her open arms. "I want to stay," said Molly first, and Asher repeated the same words directly after her. Portia cuddled them both close until all three had had their fill of affection.

"But," said Asher. "Maybe uh- maybe with a slight change in our rules?"

"Just a couple of rule changes?" asked Molly sweetly.

"I'm listening..." said Portia.

Molly and Asher were under the covers, naked, pressing their hot flesh against one another and locked in an endless kiss. Their moans were no softer or less enjoyable now that their expression of love was fully allowed.

He rolled on top of her, kissing her breasts, his tongue rolling gently over her nipples. Molly's head was back, her eyes shut, and she pushed herself against his warm mouth.

One hand slid down between her legs, and he stroked soft fingers over her hairless mound, finding her clit to tease as his tongue continued lapping at her pillowy breasts. She was moaning as he worshipped her, doing his very best to please her. His erection lay ignored and twitching.

Her slit was soaking wet now, and two of his fingers easily slid inside. She cried out loudly as he thrust them inwards slowly, building momentum, simulating what his neglected cock might do if finally allowed.

"Mmm, Asher, ooh," she moaned.

Hearing his name on her tongue was a lovely sound, especially the way she panted it out. He kissed down her stomach and dutifully pleasured her with his tongue now, trying to hear that sweet sound again.