To The Manor (Re)born (Ch. 01)

Audrey's eyes widened with surprise.

"You old fox!" she grinned. "Dulcie must have been in her sixties. And you? Barely forty, if you're a day!"

Brabinger smiled and nodded his head.

"Spot on, madam," he smiled. "I'll be forty a week on Tuesday."

"So, carry on," urged Audrey, "you're how did you put it? 'Walking out' with Dulcie. I've never heard it called that before. 'Fucking' is how I'd term it!"

"Ah, that's just the thing, you see madam. We weren't fucking!"

He blushed even deeper than before.

"I have certain needs, madam. I am attracted to older ladies, especially those with huge, pendulous tits."

"Well Dulcie certainly had a pair like that!" chuckled Audrey. "I'm surprised that they didn't bruise her knees when she walked!"

"She loved having her tits bitten and slapped." Brabinger was warming to his tale now. "And she liked me to tie them up tightly until they turned purple," he continued. "It really turned her on."

"So how did you get each other off, if you weren't fucking?" Audrey was genuinely interested now.

"Ah, well see, that's another of my little affectations," Brabinger confessed. "Dulcie was of an age where no matter how much I licked or fingered her, she couldn't get any lubrication in her cunt. Not that it bothered me. I love fucking women up the arse. I do some men too, but I mostly do women."

"Dulcie used to love me to bend her over the meat rail in the pantry, with her tits tightly bound, and then I'd fuck her up the arse whilst tugging on her nipples and slapping her tits. Your husband caught us in flagrante one day. I thought he was going to fire us both."

"Well he obviously didn't, in your case," said Audrey dryly, "although I can't remember seeing Dulcie around the estate before we had to let all the other staff go."

"No, he didn't fire her," Brabinger said sadly. "Later that day, he called for her and made her strip naked in his study. Dulcie told me all about it after he'd finished with her. He'd obviously thought through what he was going to do, and he was well prepared before he summoned Dulcie"

"What did the bastard do to poor old Dulcie?" Audrey could hardly bear to hear the answer.

"He tied her tits up with garden wire that he got from Old Ned," Brabinger replied. "It cut into her tits something cruel. And then he tried to fuck her. She told him she was too dry and that she'd gladly take him up the arse, but he muttered something about arse fucking was only for pooftahs."

Audrey's eyes overflowed with tears.

"Poor Dulcie," she whispered. "What happened next?"

"He shoved the end of a whiskey bottle up her cunt and rammed it in and out a few times. When he pulled it out, Dulcie was still gaping, and he shoved his cock into her. He tore her to pieces. She never got over it. She loved me and I loved her, and that bastard of a husband of yours, begging your pardon, madam, he totally destroyed Dulcie's trust in men. She told me she never wanted to have anything to do with a man's cock ever again!"

"Oh, Brabinger! I am so sorry " wailed Audrey, tears running freely down her cheeks. "When Dulcie had to leave here with the rest of the staff, what happened to her? Are you still in touch with her?"

"I believe she got a position in the kitchen at one of Lord and Lady Booth's residences, madam," replied Brabinger. "I haven't heard from her since she left. But you wanted to know if I was paying for your food, madam? I can honestly tell you I am not."

"Well who is then?" demanded Audrey.

"Indirectly, it's your husband, madam," replied Brabinger with a smirk. "I have been systematically liberating some of the more small saleable items from the Manor and selling them. The purchase price could not be paid into your account, of course. So I took the liberty of opening what I call my MAC account. All the money has been paid into that, and it's from there that I have been withdrawing funds to purchase supplies."

"Your MAC account? What the hell is that when it's at home?" demanded Audrey.

"It stands for Madam Audey's Cash," Brabinger replied smugly, "and at present, it has a balance of about fifteen hundred pounds!!

"How much?!!!" shrieked Audrey. "Brabinger, you cunning old bugger!"

Brabinger grinned. Old he wasn't, but a bugger was exactly the correct description of a man of his proclivities!

"What are we waiting for?" continued Audrey impatiently. "Get the car out! We're off to the village on a spending spree. I've got fifteen hundred smackeroos to spend! First stop is Mr. Brown's tobacconists! Chop! Chop! Brabinger!"

The butler didn't move.

"I would urge caution, madam," he said in a quiet, but forceful voice. "I have very few things left to sell, and now that the bailiffs have moved in, they will take an inventory of what is left in the Manor. There will be no more opportunities for me to... ahem... 'liberate' any items for sale."

Audrey's enthusiasm for her new found prosperity vanished as quickly as it had arisen.

"You're right, of course " she sulked. "Bugger it! I really thought that I'd turned the corner for a moment. The truth is I'm still broke and I can't afford to pay you, Brabinger."

She looked up at her butler who smiled, and in the silence of the sitting room, the sound of his trouser zip being undone seemed very loud indeed.

"So you see, Marjorie, I really need to do this."

Audrey was speaking to her best friend and confidante, Marjorie on the telephone. A week had gone by since Brabinger's confessions about his MAC account and the 'liberation' as he put it, of certain items from the Manor.

"It's his birthday tomorrow, and I'd really appreciate some company if I'm going to help him celebrate in a proper manner."

"Of course I'll come round, Aud. You know I love a good party. Will there be fizz and those lovely little cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off?"

"No, there will bloody well not!" snapped Audrey. "Do you listen to anything I say, Marjorie? I'm fucking penniless! Where the hell am I going to get money for champagne? Just get your arse up here by three o'clock tomorrow afternoon."

"Yes, Audrey. Of course. I'm so sorry. I thought that you said you were throwing a party for Brabinger's fortieth. I suppose you just want me to watch you sucking his cock again, don't you?"

But Marjorie was talking to the dialing tone. Audrey had rung off.

"I'm sorry about yesterday's altercation," Audrey said, getting to her feet and kissing Marjorie on both cheeks as she came into the sitting room from the garden, via the French doors. "I'm afraid that I seem to lose my temper very easily these days. I don't have the comfort of an afternoon cigar to calm me down any more. Fuck it! I hate being poor!"

Marjorie took Audrey's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"It would be a pleasure to lend you some money, Aud," she said kindly. "I hate to see you so miserable, and if the truth be told, I used to love watching you smoke your cigar. It looked like a big, fat, brown cock in your mouth!"

Marjorie blushed, and Audrey burst into laughter.

"Oh Marjorie, you're the best friend I could ever ask for. Of course I won't borrow money from you. I could never afford to pay you back. Dear Brabinger has been subbing me with cash from stuff he has been nicking from the Manor. That's why I've been sucking his cock, not a cigar! I can't afford to pay him either."

Marjorie's eyes widened in surprise.

"Brabinger's been stealing?" she gasped. "Oh, my word! Does anybody else know?"

Audrey shook her head.

"No. And it has to stay that way. He's squirreled about fifteen hundred pounds away, and is using that to buy food for us. I'm so grateful to him. A daily blow job is the least I could have done for him. But today it's his birthday. So, as a special treat I'm not going to suck his cock. He likes to fuck women up the arse."

Marjorie giggled.

"Oh Audrey! You are awful! Fancy allowing your butler leave to put his cock in your bottom!"

Audrey blinked and frowned.

"Don't be so bloody dense, Marjorie," she snapped. "As if I'd allow Brabinger to bugger me! What the hell do you think I invited you here for? You've always hinted at how frustrated you feel at still being a virgin at your age! Well, it won't be a conventional fuck, I agree, but at least you'll have the satisfaction of knowing what it feels like to have a cock in you!"

The deathly silence in the sitting room was broken as the door opened and Brabinger glided smoothly in. Marjorie let out a nervous squeak. Audrey turned to face her butler.

"Begging your pardon, madam," began Brabinger politely, "you have a visitor. A Mrs. Olwen Simpson is at the door."

Audrey frowned.

"Never heard of her," she declared, "and if she's here trying to get some money back that my bastard husband swindled out of her, tell her she's got two choices. She can either get to the back of a very long queue, or she can fuck off. Tell her exactly those words, Brabinger!"

"Very well, madam," replied the butler. "But the lady in question informed me that she is the mother of the new owner of the Manor. She would like to meet the previous owner. When I informed her of the fact that your husband was deceased, she asked if it would be possible to meet you. She says she has some information that might be of use to you."

Audrey looked at Marjorie, and shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm intrigued," she admitted. "I don't suppose that I've got anything to lose. Alright, Brabinger, I'll see her. Show her in here, will you? And does your MAC account run deep enough for tea for three?"

Brabinger smiled.

"Tea for three coming up, madam. And I bought a packet of Hobnobs this morning. My birthday treat!"

"I'd better go," said Marjorie, and the relief in her voice was plain to hear. It was obvious that she was glad to avoid being arse fucked by Brabinger.

"Sit down, Marjorie," Audrey instructed. "You'll be my witness in case this woman turns out to be a complete nutter. And it's still Brabinger's birthday, remember. He deserves a nice tight arse to fuck after all his ingenuity in keeping the wolf from my door!"

Marjorie did as she was told, and sat down, just as the door opened and Brabinger stood aside to allow Audrey's

guest in.

"Mrs. Olwen Simpson, madam," he announced, before withdrawing to go and fetch the tea.

Audrey stood up and offered her hand to her visitor.

"Good afternoon," she said. "I'm Audrey fforbes-Hamilton. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Olwen Simpson took Audey's hand and shook it gently.

"Thank you," she replied in a lilting Welsh accent. "I'm Olwen. Olwen Simpson. I understand that you used to be the Lady of the Manor?"

Audrey nodded and waved her hand in the direction of an armchair.

"Yes, when my husband was alive," she replied. "Please sit down, Mrs. Simpson."

Olwen smiled.

"Please call me Olwen," she said, sitting down and looking intently at Audrey.

"I know this is going to come as a shock to you," she began, "but I'm used to getting my own way. I've been staying at The Lone Stag in the village for about a week. I've asked questions and I've listened. I know all about your situation, both before and after your husband passed away. I wonder if you'd be interested in moving back into the Manor?"

Audrey looked puzzled. She licked her lips, which had suddenly become very dry.

"I'd love it," she confessed, "but unfortunately that would be impossible. The Manor has been sold, and I'm sure the new owner won't welcome a penniless widow into his new home."

"The new owner is my son," smiled Olwen Simpson, "and he does as he's told. I want him married off, preferably to a woman who will help me to control him. I'm a widow like you, my dear. But when my husband was alive, I was a Hot Wife and I cuckolded him regularly. I want my son to be a cuckold too. Are you interested?

To be continued...