The Captain

"Good Evening, Gentlemen," the Captain began, "and welcome to our monthly meeting. I hope you have enjoyed the delicious food and wine which has been on offer to you," there was a smattering of applause, "and continue to enjoy the evening's entertainment." I had been in the Captain's employ for only a few days, but was beginning to understand the way his monthly gatherings worked. The day to day slog of working in his summer residence would leave my muscles sore and aching, but the monthly gatherings would leave me sore in entirely different places.

I had come to London as soon as it was declared safe after the end of the war and had been shocked at how different it looked in the years since I had been evacuated to south Wales. Now back in London, orphaned in the Blitz and at the same time losing my only sibling, I was back and boarding with an old friend of my mother's, Mrs Harrison. I had expressed an interest in gaining employment as soon as I could, but she was viciously adamant that I may not take up residence as a Music Hall performer. I had been taught to dance by some of the local girls in Pontypridd and was hoping to turn this to my career, but anyway, the dancing had given me a toned and flat stomach, even if my breasts and hips gave me a slightly fuller figure.

I met Rosie after about a week in London, at a little café not far from the boarding house; she too had aspirations of performing but had ended up working for a very wealthy retired Captain of the Royal Navy in the kitchens of his London townhouse. She was hoping to move with him to his summer residence in a few months time where there would be need for many more girls. I could, she offered, come with her and meet the house cook, if we got along this lady would have the influence to take me too. I quickly agreed, Rosie seemed lovely and fun and the offer of work, especially for a wealthy family, was just what I needed.

I was happy to be back in London, but was missing David, a local farming boy I had met in Wales. He was dashingly handsome, skin dark and weathered from his work outdoors, calloused hands and strong arms from the manual labour, eyes a deep, haunting brown. His family was poor, so he regularly wore hand- me- down shirts, worn at the elbows and patched at the hems. Despite this, I fell for him, his shy manner and soft accent. He had started courting me when the spring came, the nights lighter and neither of us due home 'til dark. When we met each other's families, we were permitted to take daytime trips to the seaside with other local youths, catching the last train home as one big, happy, sunburned crowd. Single dates were almost out of the question, but one night David called for me and took me back to the hay barn...

We had climbed up the rickety wooden ladder to the loft and were fooling around in the soft and itchy hay, kissing messily and holding each other with the urgency of innocence. He softly began to undo the little pearl buttons of my shirt, then tugged it off my shoulders. I responded by pulling his shirt tails from his trousers and lifting it off, right over his head. Our breathing now was deepening, learning the feel of our naked skin sliding over each other in the still heat of the night. I could feel his hardness pressing against me as he lay on top of me, and he began to rock backwards and forwards while we fumbled and kissed. I pulled back to look him in the eye, then reached for his belt buckle as his hand slid up, from the back of my knee, tickling the back of my thigh, then finding the top of my stocking. Our eyes locked, neither of us knowing the right way to proceed, but desperate to try and fill the aching need that had been growing in us all summer. He reached further, and met the apex of my thighs. My underwear was damp. He murmured something to me in Welsh, then found the edge of my panties and slid his fingers inside. I gasped, the coolness of his fingers meeting the immense heat and wet of my pussie, the feelings almost too intense for me to bear. His inexperienced fingers fumbled around, not sure what he was supposed to be feeling for, not knowing what would be pleasurable for me. The fingernail of his index finger scraped across my clitoris and I bit down on his shoulder, tasting his skin and sweat as I tried to control the scream I was holding back as I orgasmed.

David took this as his signal to pull his long, thick penis from his trousers, and now being ever so careful with me, pushed the head against my moist opening. I felt deliciously stretched as he gently but firmly pushed himself inside me, then started to slowly rock backwards and forwards. The pressure inside started to build again, and the hay was still tickling my back and shoulders as he began to build up speed. I pushed back against his insistent thrusting and soon orgasmed again, this time feeling his thick cock inside me as shivers soared from my pussie all over my body.

I was young, but not naïve, and knew from living in the countryside how babies were made. David' thrusts grew shorter and I could see the tension in the muscles of his neck and back getting tense, he reared up taking his weight on his hands and dropped his head to kiss me. I took my chance to slide out from beneath him, and wriggled down to take his cock between my lips. Using my tongue around the very end of his penis seemed to send him over the edge, and I could taste both my own and his juices as he groaned through his orgasm.

Over the next few months, then years, David and I grew closer as our lovemaking became more passionate, then inevitably the passion changed to frustration, then discontent, then separation. We remained friends, it would have been hard not to in such a small and intimate community, but I was to remain untouched again until I returned to London.

After only a few weeks in London I was working in the same café I had first met Rosie. She was still employed by the Captain, but the summer season was fast approaching and I had an appointment to meet with the cook. On Rosie's suggestion I went in a rather fashionable outfit, the skirt maybe an inch shorter than what Mrs Harrison approved of, the neckline of my pale blue blouse skimming over my collarbone to reveal a little of the skin on my chest. Dainty shoes and a pearl necklace completed my new look.

My interview went smoothly and was rather uneventful; I was not invited to tour the townhouse but was given the address of the house in Buckinghamshire where I was to be employed for the summer on a little slip of paper, and told not to lose it. The other house girls would be travelling by train, and I would be welcome to join them. Cook was a wide woman, wearing conservative high necklines and long hems, but gave me a nod of approval when I arrived. She took stock of my appearance, and conducted the interview while preparing vegetables, it seemed, so she could view me from different angles. I got the impression early on that she would be fair but very firm with 'her girls', and expected high standards. I would be given one week to prove myself to her. If she was not impressed, I would have to return to London.

I chose to take some the girls, including Rosie, up on their offer to ride the train with them to the country residence, called Canterford. When we were all together it was easy to spot the similarities between all twenty three of us who were travelling together. Our number consisted of redheads, blondes and brunettes, like me, but we were mostly of a similar age, height and build. Small waists, curvy bottoms and hips and nice round breasts. We too shared a common interest for the latest fashions and all dressed on the verge of risqué. I would soon see why.

The girls' quarters were at the very top of the four story country estate mansion. I was in awe when I arrived, but learned within a matter of hours that the key to servitude is invisibility. We had our own staircases, dining areas, bathing areas and, of course, sleeping quarters, where all of us shared one large attic room which spanned the whole of the top of the house. At least we all had our own bed. Not, I would soon learn, this made much difference.

The most experienced girl there was Marie, she was now in her third year at Canterford. In her three years, we were to learn during a very female gossip on the first night, had fucked all four stable boys, once at the same time, both serving boys and the driver. She also had made love with some of the female members of staff, but would respect our decision if we did not want to be the next notch on her bedpost. But most came round and did before the end of the summer. Some of the girls were deeply shocked at this, the shining red faces were beacons for the virgins in the room. Me, not so much. Lesbianism was not rife, but I was aware of the concept, and though it was not common I certainly wasn't going to run screaming at the idea. Added to this the growing lust I had been experiencing since leaving Wales, and the possibility of making love with another woman, especially one so open and loving as Marie, I thought I might be the first person to take her up on her offer.

But it wasn't to be. As soon as the lights were out, the cute redheaded girl from the train, Anna, I thought her name might be, but I wasn't sure, was in Marie's bed. And due to the location of it- right under the window, we could see everything, if we wanted to, due to the moonlight coming in through the thin curtains. Despite my frustration of being beaten to Marie's bed, I shamelessly watched as the elder girl drew off Anna's nightdress, revealing her luminously pale skin dotted with freckles. Her breasts were full and topped by the sweetest looking nipples. I'm sure I was not the only one watching the growing lust between the two women, but I was the only one to make my interest known. Being in the next bed to Marie I just propped my head up on my elbow, rolling over onto my right side and letting my left hand fall down between my legs. Marie noticed my watching her and winked at me, rather surreptitiously.

I was happy to sit back and watch as Marie teased Anna's nipples with her knuckles, rubbing her thumb over them until they stood up in pretty pink peaks. Then she bent her head and, one at a time, licked with the tip of her tongue over and around so that I could see the shine in the moonlight. Anna's face was twisted in pleasure, and she held Marie's head to her breasts, encouraging her to lick deeper and suck harder. Marie smiled and rubbed her nose between her breasts, inhaling the scent of the younger woman.

Marie could sense Anna's need, and her head moved lower to begin to lick and suck at her pussie. Anna's groans of pleasure, although stifled, were clearly audible to me and my fingers slipped around in my own juicy wetness. I was close to climax as I watched Marie's tongue slip in and out of Anna's vagina, tasting her juices and enjoying the smell of her arousal. When she slipped two fingers delicately into her and began to pump gently, mimicking the movement of a cock in her pussie I couldn't hold back any more, and smothering my face in my pillow, I came hard.

***

Michael was one of the stable boys. He had the scrawny look of adolescence, almost as if he had grew too fast for his body to catch up with his eighteen years. But he had deep blue eyes and fair hair, and his skinny looks were deceiving from his real strength, which he was displaying rather well as he bent me over a low wall on the edge of the grounds and fucked me hard from behind. After my disappointment the night before at only being voyeur and not participant in the wild affair which was developing between Marie and the whole household staff, I had gone out seeking action with one of the lads Marie had mentioned earlier in the evening. Michael was just what I had been seeking; someone my own age, well, sort of, fit, healthy and energetic. I gave him a few sweet, doe eyed looks and he was lapping out of the palm of my hand. He had offered to give me a tour of the grounds, and had shown me the impressive gardens and stables, the smell of hay only making me pine for a lover even more. We wandered together, gradually getting closer and allowing our hands to brush against each other. He lead me further away from the house and closer to the edge of the property, where I found the wall and backed up against it. Undoing the little buttons down the front of my dress, I looked at him through heavy eyelids, offering myself to him, my throat, my skin, my breasts. He took me up on that offer. Crossing to me in three long strides, his hands were at my waist and lips sucking and pulling at my nipples, forcing me to groan with desire. Michael roughly pushed up the hem of my dress to finger the dampness of my panties, then tickled one finger inside to test my wetness. Satisfied, he turned me over, my hands resting on the wall as he pulled my underwear down and thrust into me, bruising my hips with the strength of his fingers. It was to be a rough, dirty, messy experience, Michael frequently showering my bottom and thighs with smacks and caresses, rubbing at my bottom hole with his thumb and reaching around with his other hand to gently tickle my clitoris. I orgasmed quickly, calling out his name. Michael reached up to pinch and pull at my nipples, then withdrew as he came all over my pink, sore bottom.

"Mmm," I groaned, as I attempted to rearrange my clothes and hair to make it less obvious what we had been up to.

"Hey, don't worry." Michael reassured me, and tucked a few loose strands of my hair behind my ears. In a lovely, innocent gesture he took my hand as we walked together back towards the main house looking like nothing more than friendly children enjoying an early summer evening's stroll.

***

And so, back to the evening in which my story began, while the Captain was making his speech. The drapes on the walls of the dining room were a rich, deep red and the tables at which the gentlemen were sat were covered with beautiful table linen and the finest china and silverware. The luxurious white candles were burning low in the table candelabras casting a ghostly glow and long shadows on the floor. It was in this room that we had all been taken earlier in the night, the girls, myself included, had been standing at the sides all evening, providing the distinguished gentlemen with 'live art'. We had all been stripped of our clothing and provided with beautiful masquerade masks to wear, some of us (myself not included) also given long strips of beautiful cloths to arrange over our naked bodies. I, like Rosie and Marie, was naked apart from my mask and a pair of stunning gold shoes.

After the Captain's rousing speech and thanking of his guests, the attention of the evening was turned away from fine food and finer wine, and towards the young women of the room. Spanking, it seemed, was to be the order of the evening. Marie had prepared us slightly for what was to come, but the actual activity of spanking was still a little unnerving. Marie was obviously a favourite of the Captain's, as he summoned her to the top table and his side with little more than a nod of his head in her direction. Marie, ever obedient, moved delicately and ethereally through the tables towards him. The Captain is a sturdy gentleman who has kept in considerably fine shape since his retirement from the military. So when he took hold of Marie's small waist and bent her over his lap, she could do little but comply with his firm hand.

The Captain seemed to have a whisper of a smile skirting his face as Marie went over his lap, and, after taking a reassuring sip of his Bordeaux he proceeded to lay firm smacks across Marie's upturned bottom. Her little squeaks and squeals of delight and pain caused the gentlemen in the room to break into unanimous applause, and this seemed to be the cue to us girls to begin to mingle among the tables.

Some of the gentlemen obviously had their favourites and summoned one or two of the more experienced girls to their table. Others would stop a girl as she passed and examined her bottom or maybe her breasts with a lick or a fondle then, if approving, pull her forward or reject her with a dismissive hand.

Walking around that room was like being in another universe. It was warm, and the heady scent of good wine and heavy arousal made my walk loose, sensual and sexual. I was not at all daunted by the debauchery I was witnessing, it was sex, pure and simple, not all that different to what Marie shared with the other girls, or what I had done with David or Michael.

A large set, bearded man stopped me as I passed by his table and caught me by my waist. Easily lifting me, he set me down on the edge of his table and arranged my legs either side of his body.

"Aren't you a fine little thing?" he asked me. "Hmm, smooth legs, firm thighs and stomach, and look at these lovely things," while tweaking my nipples. "I wonder what I'll find down here," and he trailed a finger to down between my open thighs.

"Is she wet?" another man at the table asked, leaning over to get a better look at the soft hairs of my pussie.

"Soaking." Came the reply. The gentleman used two of his fingers to prod and probe between my pussie lips, testing my wetness and compliance. My response was to lift my legs and arrange one ankle over each of his shoulders.

"She's a feisty one!" someone exclaimed, and I just dropped my head back as the bearded man bent his head to lick at my wetness.

"What does she taste like, Marston?"

"Mmm, sweet, tangy, a little salty. Delicious." His head went back down for another taste.

"Are you going to share her?"

"I might. Hang on a moment, she is gorgeous."

Throughout this exchange I had been getting more and more excited, the gentleman obviously knew what he was doing with his tongue and it took all my self control to not to wriggle my bottom around on the table.

"Come on Marston," another voice implored, "You can't expect to keep a girl like her to yourself."

"If you insist." And he released some catch under the table I had neither seen nor knew of, and suddenly the top of the table moved round, then was stopped by the guest to Marston's left. This gentleman, the first who had insisted I was shared by all six on the table, bent his head and took his job of tasting my wetness. To try and encourage more of my juices he slipped a finger or two inside me and began to gently massage my love channel. I knew that I would not last long while he continued to do this, and managed to gasp "I think I'm going to come" before I screamed my pleasure to the room.

The other four men at the table had found other girls to keep them amused and I could see four very pink bottoms being displayed, one of whose I think may have been Rosie's. While these men had been watching me take my pleasure, they had been exacting theirs on some of the other girls, and they seemed to be enjoying it. Gasping still from the exertion of my recent orgasm I looked around the room to one of the most erotic sights I had ever seen, or even dreamt of.

There must have been about thirty men in the room. Not many, considering the luxury and extravagance of the evening, and it had seemed to me to be many more; but this must have been due to the presence of us girls, which made the numbers up to about seventy five.

Every man was now being attended to by at least one woman; some girls were on their knees under the table and sucking and slurping like at an ice cream on the erect penises presented to them, around half of the girls were being spanked- this was obviously a favourite and much repeated pleasure of the gentlemen present, and I saw Anna on the lap of a younger gentleman with a short and ferocious haircut (obviously serving military), she was facing him and straddling his lap, bobbing up and down on a monstrously huge penis.