The Maid's Tale Ch. 04bychristinamonroe©
Phillip, the fourth Baron Rothsmere, summoned Mr Barlow, his butler to his study one morning in early spring and remained ensconced with him there for some time. Mary was banished to the kitchens during this, forbidden to enter the room, and stood lethargically washing dishes, wondering what this was about. She was miserable; her Master hadn't paid her much attention since their last cataclysmic encounter and she hadn't seen Jack at all. Betsy, the kitchen maid was sympathetic. She and Mary were friends, both young; Betsy was a couple of years older than Mary, but at the age of 21 she had had no experience of men. But she knew that Mary was upset, and she knew that a man was involved and that Mary's deep sighs and sorrowful face were caused by his absence. Betsy resolved to try and talk to Mary about it: they had adjoining attic bedrooms so it would be easy to sneak in one night after work and talk quietly by candlelight.
Later that day, Mr Barlow made an announcement at supper. Mary was to be trained up as a serving maid; she was to be fitted with a formal uniform and he would teach her the proper serving of various dishes so that she would be of use when the Lady Rothsmere returned and the House opened for balls and banquets once more.
Mary's heart sank-Mr Barlow scared her sometimes, the way he looked at her, the way his eyes lingered on her body. She was beginning to understand the effect she had on men but she determined that she would look her plainest during the lessons, or ask that Betsy came along as well.
Mr Barlow, on the other hand, was very pleased with his mission; he had been procuring maids for his Master for many years and making it easier for him to pursue his interests. In return, the Baron often gave Barlow his cast-offs when the he was tired of them. Barlow was looking forward to this most recent strumpet-she was something special.
It turned out that Mary liked her lessons: her mind was quick and she relished learning something new. Etiquette and manners came easily to her and she was soon ready for her new role.
Not long afterwards, the Baron announced that he would be entertaining an old friend for dinner; it was to be an informal occasion, and he required Mary to serve, this being good practice for her in her new role.
On the evening of the dinner, Mr Barlow gave her final instructions and she set off to take her station in the small chamber. All went smoothly; the Baron's companion, Thomas, was a huge man, taller and broader than her Master, and to Mary it seemed strange that a cultured voice should come from such a bear of a man. He had apparently been an old school friend, and had been abroad for some time; the rumours were that he was a buccaneer and had been a slaver in America. Seeing him, Mary could believe that.
They talked long into the night, drinking heavily, laughing more loudly and raucously as the evening progressed. Tired, Mary began to clear the dishes, and found that she was alone in the chamber; Mr Barlow had retired for the night. Standing still, she could hear no noise from the rest of the House.
As she began hurriedly stacking the dishes, she became aware that both men were staring at her. For the first time that evening, the Baron addressed her directly. 'You've done well tonight Mary' he stated, 'I'm sure you won't mind serving us a little longer'.
Thinking that he meant serving the port, she moved over to the sideboard for the decanter, but she was stopped by a thick, muscular arm-the Baron's companion had blocked her way. 'Oh no, young lady,' he smiled, 'you can do better than that'. He wrapped his arm around her waist and swept her up against him. He nuzzled at her neck, nipping lightly at the soft skin, and his other arm came up to play with her breasts through the thick cloth of her bodice.
Mary started to struggle fiercely to escape his brute strength. He easily fended off her blows, and then flung her down on the tabletop. She lay there helpless for a moment, wondering wildly why her Master didn't help or intervene, then she saw him lean back in his chair, smiling, It struck her then that this had been planned; her Master had invited this man to the house to use her and he was going to watch her degradation.
The wind was knocked out of her, and the fight left her as she realised just how little she meant to her Master. She saw her attacker standing above her, one large hand reaching out to grasp her long hair near the roots, pulling her head back as he started to run the other one across her face.
"No... no, please..." she pleaded, knowing this was of no use, knowing what was going to happen to her. He ignored her, and grabbed the neckline of her dress, ripping it open with a suddenness she didn't expect. He paused, his eyes roaming over her body now revealed through the tatters.
Mary felt her Master's eyes on her too; she was exposed to them both now, stretched across the dining table, and somehow, her mind revolting at the idea, she felt excited, knowing they were both looking at her body. She knew she should be struggling still, but the power and size of this man had done something to her, something she wanted to experience...
Then, he started to run his rough hand along her soft flesh. Roughly groping and grasping as he explored, the calloused fingertips rubbing and squeezing her firm breasts, leaving bright red marks as he drew each one taut. Pulling and pinching each nipple he made her gasp and moan; this was almost pain, but not quite, and her body was responding in a way she didn't expect as she was roughly fondled.
His hand moved lower, tracing along her stomach. Then, shocking her again, he covered her pubic mound with his large hand and began to probe. Mary cried out again, the intrusion making her jump, and she began to struggle again, but his other hand held her still as he continued to knead and rub. He was touching her, his thick fingers rubbing and exploring, encircling the taut nub of flesh that had brought her so much pleasure. Despite herself, Mary could feel her body respond, to feel her sex moisten and spread for him under the insistent pressure of his fingers. Her hips began to move, grinding her sex onto his hand.
Then she felt a new sensation now: his finger probing deeper, sliding inside her. It felt so different from her own small fingers, different from her Masters. His thumb was still rubbing her, and his finger began to slide in and out, pumping into her, rougher than she had ever done to herself, but the feeling was overwhelming. She realised that her Master had come over to them and was holding her down, fondling her breasts while his guest fingered her brutally, and the thought of being used by both of them both shamed and excited her.
Her passion was beginning to rise, and she flushed with a mixture of shame and desire. Then, suddenly, he pulled his hand away. Not quite knowing what she was doing, she cried out, begging him not to stop.
He merely smiled, and started to unfasten his breeches. She knew what he was going to do, and her thighs spread, welcoming him, not needing her Masters restraining hands. His cock was as large as the rest of him, meaty and heavy. He moved in between her legs and wrapping his hand around his own shaft, he rubbed the head of it over her swollen lips, moistening the tip.
She was scared and exhilarated, moaning at the touch of him, and then she felt him slide into her, stretching her, filling her as he pushed deeper and deeper. Her Master craned his neck to watch the fat hard cock penetrate her, then ease out again, the shaft covered with Mary's honeyed juices. In all his travels, he had never watched another man in action, and realised that this was as erotic as fucking her himself. He could feel his own erection rise and vowed to take her immediately she had been filled with this mans seed.
Thomas indicated to him to pull Mary's legs back, and she felt as though she was split in two as his thick cock continued thrusting into her. His thumb never stopped his manipulations of her flesh and she could feel her pleasure peaking. Gasping and moaning as he took her roughly, she could hear the sticky sounds of her own juices, the wetness of her excitement. She saw her Master above her and watched as he lowered his head to take one of her hard nipples in his mouth, biting and sucking. It seemed that every nerve ending in Mary's body was concentrated at her crotch and her nipple, all being stimulated to a peak of excitement. Her moans were almost constant now, her hands buried in her Masters hair as she held him to her breasts. Her legs were spread willingly, no longer needing to be held apart, and she groaned with each dominant thrust of the invader as he filled her with his meat and used her.
He was breathing heavier now, pumping more quickly, his cock pummelling. Then, just as Mary thought she couldn't take any more, he buried it deep, throwing his head back as he let out a guttural cry. She could feel the spasms inside her, realising that he was filling her with his hot seed. It sent her over the edge as well, an orgasm consuming her body as he jerked and ground his thick root into her; the hot seed jetting out and overflowing from her quim.
He paused for a moment, and then withdrew, watching as his emission dripped from her flesh, now reddened and swollen. She lay dazed and in shock, and watched passively as he placed his slickened member, still semi-hard into his breeches.
He pulled Mary to her feet and she could feel his sticky sperm oozing from her tender hole. Naked, clad only in the tattered remains of her uniform, she watched the men as they smiled at each other. 'I think its time we retired upstairs, Mary' her Master declared, and Mary began to wonder what else was in store for her that night.