The Squire Ch. 01

My apologies for the long wait since my last story but I hope your patience will be rewarded. All characters in this story are over eighteen years of age.

I was twenty-three when my father sold me. I didn't realise at the time that that was what was happening. I only worked it out later. He would tell it differently, but it amounts to the same thing. To be fair, I don't blame him, and he wasn't to know the consequences of his action.

When I left school, I went to work in the local town. There was a big biscuit and cake factory there which hired girls straight from the local school. It was regular work, and my parents were grateful of the extra money coming in. Then, last year, it all fell apart. The firm went bust and the factory closed. All the workers, including me, were made jobless. The town was devastated as they were the main employer. I simply stayed at home as there was no other option.

My name is Laura and I'm twenty-three and I admit that I didn't cover myself in glory. For nearly a year I lazed about the house doing almost nothing to help out. I frittered away what meagre money I got from the state by going out and partying. I tried to ignore the fact that my mother and father both worked hard to keep their home and feed us. In the end, my father lost patience with me. And so, he sold me to the squire.

That's not exactly how he put it one night after dinner. He started by berating me for my laziness around the house, about my failure to provide for myself or to contribute to the household generally. He had, however, solved that problem.

"I've got you a job at Squire Joshua's," he informed me with a triumphant glint in his eye.

I sat quietly, shocked at the news, and confused. "But ..."

"There will be no 'buts', my girl. Its arranged and there's no saying no," he said with finality.

I glanced sideways at my mother but was greeted with a smirk. I started to realise that my bad behaviour had finally reached their breaking point and they had conspired to organise this. I opened my mouth to protest but my father stopped me by slamming the handle of his knife down on the table.

"You start in the morning," he explained, "I'm to take you there for nine o'clock. It's a live-in job so you'll need to pack a few things. And that's an end to it."

I looked from one to the other, but I could tell straight away that argument was pointless. I scowled at them both and stood up and then fled from the room. I'm sure you could have heard the slam of the door as I left several streets away. In my bedroom I flung myself onto the bed and burst into tears.

It was dark when my mother knocked on my door and then came in. I glanced at her through my tangled hair, looking for sympathy but I found none. Her face was set in an expression of determination.

"It's your own fault," she said, with a hard edge to her voice that was unfamiliar, "if you'd looked for a job, or given us some money ..."

I sat up on the side of the bed trying to look like a lost waif. Mother simply stood in the doorway; arms folded across her ample bosom.

"It's all decided. You won't need much, just a few nightclothes. Uniform's provided. Better get some sleep. Father's taking you there in the morning."

With that she left, closing the door none too quietly as she did so, and I was left with my thoughts. Could I run away? At first the idea seemed good but then practicalities kicked in. I had no money; I had spent everything I ever earned. The nearest town was over ten miles away and the buses had stopped hours ago. I felt trapped. Maybe this was my destiny. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. After a few more minutes of feeling sorry for myself I became resigned to my fate.

I dragged the small suitcase down from the top of my wardrobe and then rooted through my drawers. I picked out a few sets of my best underwear and folded them neatly and put them in, leaving the best out to wear in the morning. As the job was now a foregone conclusion, I was determined to make a good impression. I put my spare nightdress in and a few toiletries and that was about it. I could add a few things in the morning. Anything I'd forgotten I was sure I could come back for later. After all, it was only a mile or so away.

I was woken up the next morning by an impatient hammering on my door. Somehow, on this most important of days, I had managed to oversleep. I scrambled out of bed and dressed as quickly as I could. Briefly I wondered if the top I had chosen was a little too revealing but decided it would have to do. it was my best and newest and I wasn't endowed with much up top anyway, so it revealed very little. I dashed downstairs where mother had organised a pot of tea and some toast. Father scowled from across the room where he was pacing up and down, continuously looking at his watch. I gobbled down a slice of toast and took a few gulps of tea before he announced that it was time to leave.

He strode rapidly through the back lanes to go the short distance to the big house, and I struggled to keep up. He only slowed down when we got to the front gate and he waited for me to catch up. Before us was a long gravel drive that curved to the right behind a row of trees, obscuring the house from view.

"Leave the talking to me. There's no need for you to speak unless spoken to and then be as polite as you can. Understood?"

I nodded and followed him as he set off along the drive. The house appeared huge and very intimidating. Although I had lived in the same place for years, this was the first time I had seen it. I know nothing about styles of architecture, I just knew it was old. I followed father as he veered off from the main drive and went to the side of the house. He stopped at a small door and rang a bell. It was opened by a woman, severely dressed in a charcoal grey business suit and a white blouse, neatly buttoned to her chin. She looked to be about forty as she looked us both up and down. Without a word she turned and walked back into the gloomy interior leaving the door swinging open. I followed Father into the house.

We managed to follow the woman thanks to brief glimpses as she swept along before us or through the click-clack of her sensible shoes as they echoed along the corridors. We caught up with her outside a grand doorway where she motioned for us to wait while she went inside. I glanced at father and he was looking even more nervous than I was. Then the huge door opened, and the woman beckoned us in.

The room was grand beyond my imagination. The ceiling was higher than the roof of our house and there seemed to be gold everywhere. Everything glittered in the bright sunlight that streamed through the enormous windows. I'm not sure how old the man was, I find it difficult to judge the age of old people. I was guessing but I thought he was around sixty. He was lounging on a long sofa and was dressed in a light grey suit. He stood up as we came in. I was made to stand in the centre of the room, my father slightly off to one side. I suddenly felt that all eyes were upon me.

The man in the suit slowly walked towards me. He stopped about six feet in front of me and, taking his time, he looked me up and down. I felt myself blush under his scrutiny. I was sure his gaze lingered at the neckline of my top. Had I chosen foolishly? Should I have worn something more chaste? But his eyes moved on, all the way to my feet and then back to my face. With slow footsteps and hands clasped behind him he circled around me, like a predator with a trapped prey. I felt my blush spreading and was shocked when he groped at my breasts, feeling for my aroused and hardened nipples. I expected and waited for a protest from my father, but he remained silent. I was relieved when he released me and walked back to the couch and sat down. While still looking at me he spoke to my father.

"Well, Thomas, looks like you've raised a pretty filly. How old is she?"

"She's just turned twenty-three, sir."

"A little older than we usually take but nevertheless I think she'll fit in quite nicely. What think you, Alice?" he said, addressing the severe woman.

"She has the right looks, sir. She'll need proper training of course."

"I'm sure you're more than capable. You can take her now."

With that it seemed I was dismissed. The woman came up behind me and took my elbow and started to lead me away. I heard the fragments of a conversation begin between my father and the man that I presume was the squire. "Now, Thomas, we have agreed a fee for her ..." and then a door was shut behind me and I heard no more. What was the fee they were talking about? I was to learn more only much later.

I was led up a cramped stone stair that seemed to be built into the wall of the house. Eventually we came out into a space beneath the eaves of the roof. There was a central corridor with two doors leading off from either side and a fifth one at the far end. I followed Alice into one of the rooms. It was tiny and was nearly filled with two beds and a small cupboard. Alice stood by the door as I looked around the sparse room.

"Suitcase on there," she ordered me indicating the small cupboard, and then tapped her foot when I hesitated.

I put my little suitcase on the cupboard and stood back. She immediately stepped forward and clicked open the two locks and lifted the lid. Without asking my permission she started to rummage through the contents. She picked out the toiletries and my makeup bag and examined them all carefully. She sniffed at the cologne and my favourite perfume and wrinkled up her nose. She put everything back in the suitcase, leaving out only my hairbrush and toothbrush. Then she turned and looked at me, then pointed at the bed next to me.

"Your uniform," she told me, "put it on."

I looked down and was astonished by what I saw. I'm not sure what I was expecting but it had to be better than this. A pretty dress or even a cliched maid's outfit would have been better. What I saw seemed to have been hacked out of a sack with little or no thought. No black patent-leather shiny shoes but just a pair of drab and worn slip-ons.

"But I can't ..." I started to say.

"Just do it," she snapped at me.

"But Alice ..." I tried again.

With two steps she was in front of me, and I felt the harsh sting as she slapped me on the cheek.

"Let's get things clear, bitch," she hissed at me, as I held my hand to my stinging cheek, "one, to you I am 'Miss' and two, you do what the fuck I tell you. Is that understood?"

I hadn't been expecting this and I pliantly nodded.

"Good, then strip."

I knew better now than to disobey her. This was not a good way to start my new job. I mentally cursed my father but knew there was little I could do about it right now. I started to take off my clothes. Alice had stepped back away by the door and stood with folded arms watching my every move. I got down to my underwear and then hesitated.

"Everything."

I steeled myself as I took off my bra and laid it on top of my top and skirt. Then, slowly I tugged down my best panties. Alice stepped forward again and grabbed my clothes. She crumpled them all up and pushed them into the suitcase before slamming the lid and clicking the locks shut. She picked it up and placed it by the door.

"You won't be needing any of that rubbish. We provide everything you need. Now, stand up straight and let me see what I have to work with. Face me and hands behind your head."

Her anger had gone, and her severity had reappeared. Slowly I straightened up and stood before her with my hands behind my head, fingers locked together. I felt vulnerable and exposed. She took her time appraising me and I tried not to meet her eye. She walked over and stood in front of me. I felt her hand flick at my hair.

"This will need a trim and a tidy up," she commented, almost to herself.

Her hand moved down, and I shut my eyes as it travelled across my cheek, still burning from her recent slap. Then she cupped my breast and squeezed it. I flinched and then yelped out loud as she grabbed my nipple and pinched it hard.

"Not much in the tit department but nice sensitive nips," again as if she were dictating a memo.

Her hand drifted over my tummy and then she really did make me yell. I always have a carefully shaved triangle of pubes and she grabbed at it and pulled upward really hard, almost lifting me off my feet.

"These will have to go. I like all my girls to have naked cunts."

Her hand wandered between my legs and felt her trace the line of my pussy, slowly insinuating itself between my labia. I was frozen with fear and had lost the will to resist.

"Pretty cunt," she commented, "are you a virgin?"

"N-n-no Miss."

"That makes life easier for me then. A pity the men will miss out of taking your cherry, but it can't be helped. How many men have had you?"

"Only three, Miss."

"Slut! Now, put your uniform on."

I was shocked at the coarseness of her language but recovered enough to pick up the scrap of a dress. I had hoped there would be underwear hidden below it but there was nothing.

"There's no undies," I said, hoping that they'd been forgotten or that she'd made a mistake.

"You'll have no need for it here," she told me, "a girl should be accessible at all times. Be grateful we allow you a dress. Now put it on before I lose patience."

Not wanting to annoy her I pulled the dress over my head. The material was coarse and scratchy but at least I was covered, although only just as it reached to just below my bottom and bending over would be a disaster.

"Now, your first lesson. Stand up straight with your hands clasped behind your head. Elbows back and eyes to the floor. Remember that pose. If you happen to meet Mr Joshua or he comes into a room where you are you will adopt that pose immediately. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Miss."

"Good. You should also adopt that pose if I am talking to you. His word, like mine must be obeyed at once and without question although his obviously takes precedence over mine. The dress is about the right length I see. It just about covers you. The measurements your mother sent were about right. Try on the shoes. They should be your size."

With the dawning realisation that my mother was also part of the plan I felt abandoned and alone. I knelt to put the shoes on and when I stood up and looked across at the formidable figure of Miss Alice. She was scowling back at me.

"Have you forgotten so quickly?" she demanded.

I must have looked confused as I couldn't think what I had forgotten. "Usually, a girl would be punished for forgetting to assume the pose."

I quickly moved to put my hands behind my head and looked to the floor, not wanting to find out what the 'punishment' might be. Miss Alice said no more about my lack of discipline but simply turned, picked up my suitcase and opened the door.

"Follow me," was all she said.

In silence I did so. Still unsure about her rules I tried to walk while still in the pose. The shoes were so thin that I felt every nuance of the surfaces of the floors. She stopped briefly by one of the other doors and put my suitcase inside before beginning the long climb back down the stairs. I was finding balance difficult, but I managed it with difficulty. We got back to the floor I had started from and then descended another level. We came out into a huge kitchen, full of smoke and steam. She strode across it and I tried to follow as quickly as I could. A figure loomed out of the hazy atmosphere.

"Phillip, I have brought your new scullery girl."

The white smocked figure turned from his work bench. "Another? Why do I always get the new ones?"

He looked at me and came over to us. Once again, I felt unfriendly eyes inspecting me. He walked around me eyeing me with distaste. I felt the hem of my shabby dress lift at the back, and I forced myself to stay still. A large hand grabbed one of my cheeks and squeezed it and I jumped and tried to squirm away.

"Stay still, bitch," came Miss Alice's voice, "no one told you to move."

I recovered my position as the hand let go of by buttock. The man she had called Phillip came round to the front and lifted my dress again. This time I was half prepared as his hand went between my legs and started to finger me. His other hand came under my chin and forced my head up. I was confronted by a surprisingly young face, unshaven and unsmiling. His other hand continued to explore my pussy as he looked at me.

"She's older than the others," he commented as a finger found my entrance, "I hope she's not going to be trouble."

"It's up to you to make sure she isn't."

"We'll have to see how she behaves." His finger was now pushing deeper into me, "Virgin?"

"She says not but probably not overused."

"She's quite tight down there," he said, finally pulling his finger out of me.

He lifted the finger to his nose and sniffed dramatically, all the time looking at my face. His scowl had gone, and he was now grinning. His thumb stroked across my lips and he brought his pussy-scented finger towards me. Trying to second guess him I opened my mouth and let him slide his finger in. I twirled my tongue around it hoping this would please him. It seemed to do the trick as his smile broadened.

"She seems to be getting the idea. Ok, I'll take her, not that I have much choice. I'll find something for her to do."

"I'll leave you to it then."

With that Miss Alice turned on her heel and left the kitchen leaving me to my uncertain future.