Back in Service (21 page)

Nanny stepped up behind Hetty and gave her shoulder a rough push. ‘Say it,’ she commanded. ‘Give thanks, you miserable sinner.’

‘Err… thank you, Sir Victor.’

‘No,
Carstairs
,’ he said furiously. ‘I am
Carstairs
, stupid.’

‘I thank you, Carstairs, and Mrs Baines, for giving me such a light sentence…’ The mere thought of putting her mouth anywhere near his disgusting organ made Hetty want to retch, but she could see no alternative. Only the thought of Jane, dear sweet Jane, and their lovemaking that afternoon – which now seemed so long ago – gave her the courage to endure this trial.

‘Head down, boy, and lick your lips,’ Sir Victor ordered. ‘I cannot bear a dry mouth. Give it plenty of tongue, too, and vary the pace. The old rascal might have some life in him yet.’

Hetty had often been called on to perform orally upon her husband’s cock when he was tired from his labours, and although the taste of the old man’s juicing prick was unpleasantly strong and salty, she persevered by thinking about Jane. No sooner had she placed the length of his flaccid organ in her mouth than the first of several stinging blows fell upon her buttocks, and it was all she could do to avoid biting into Sir Victor’s soft shaft as pain sliced through her.

‘Easy, Mrs Baines,’ he urged, obviously aware of the peril he was in. ‘Remember the double rule “whip hard, prick guard, whip light, lick right”.’

‘Yes, sir, I was carried away by my disgust at his lewd behaviour. Fancy attempting to seduce a housemaid, sir.’

‘Well he is paying for it now. Continue, and you, boy, do some more of that licking and sucking together. I fancy you were injecting some life into the old man before you nearly choked him to death.’

Hetty resumed her task of fellatio with new energy, eager to get the whole disgusting episode over and done with. Her backside was sore and throbbing, but she stoically endured the next two strokes. Then her efforts were rewarded as the ghost of an erection resurrected the limp penis in her mouth. With a little more judicious tonguing, the old man’s cock actually grew stiff and upright.

‘By George, he has done it!’ Sir Victor exclaimed, apparently too excited to appreciate his own pun. ‘He has managed to breathe some life into my prick, Mrs Baines. Wonders will never cease. Quick, let us strike while the iron is hot and throbbing.’

His words struck a note of warning in Hetty’s heart even as she continued licking around his glans, which was now swollen and seeping with semen, but then, to her surprise and horror, Mrs Baines came and pulled her face away from the miraculous erection.

‘That is enough of that,’ the woman snapped. ‘Get down on all fours with your back to the wheelchair.’

‘B-but why?’ Hetty stammered.

Sir Victor gave a low, dirty chuckle. ‘Since I would not dream of offending Mrs Baines’s honour, your arse will have to do as a receptacle for my magnificent hard-on. Grease his hole for me, please, and make him good and ready.’

Hetty could hardly believe her ears. It seemed incredible that the Master of Longton was so indiscriminate in his randy appetites he would sodomize the brother of his daughter-in-law. However, as Sir Victor produced a small pot of bear’s grease from his jacket pocket, she was obliged to believe he would.

At once she felt her anus shrivel tightly in protest. Already her buttocks were burning and the thought of further torment inflicted upon them was unbearable. Yet she continued kneeling before his wheelchair, her mouth open in shock, as his fingers took over for her lips and brought his organ fully to life. Then rough hands on her shoulders forced her around and down. She kept her thighs as close together as she could, but as soon as Baines’s greasy finger touched her bottom hole, she decided she was having none of it. Twisting around, she seized the woman’s thick forearm. Her sleeve had been rolled up while she wielded the whip and her hairy skin was exposed. Without another thought, she sunk her teeth into the meaty flesh and bit her hard.

‘Ouch!’ the nurse yelped, and tried to clout her round the head, but Hetty wriggled away and scampered on all fours a few paces before struggling to her feet while still trying to hide her female sex with her shirttail.

‘Catch him!’ Sir Victor yelled. ‘Damn his hide, I knew we should have tied the bugger up.’

Pulling up her trousers Hetty made for the door, which was thankfully unlocked, and she could hear the heavy clump of Baines’s footsteps behind her as she ran down the corridor. Praying none of the servants would see the undignified pursuit she reached the main hall and began climbing the stairs. When she was almost at the top she looked back and saw Baines standing at the bottom waving her fist in the air. Evidently the nurse had given up the chase, but her face looked almost purple with rage. Hetty knew she had made a real enemy there – or rather George had – but there was no time to worry about that now. She had to get back to her room as quickly as possible and become herself again.

The shutters were drawn against the fading light and it was dark when she entered, so she made for the oil lamp and struck a match. Soon the sitting room was bathed in a soft glow, but when she turned around she was startled to see a figure sitting in a chair. ‘Jane,’ she breathed. ‘What are you doing here?’ She looked so beautiful and so innocent, her eyes wide with concern, her lower lip trembling with emotion as she rose and flung herself into Hetty’s arms with a stifled sob.

‘Oh George, what on earth did they do to you, you poor darling? I have been so anxious for you all the while!’

‘It was nothing,’ Hetty said gruffly, holding her tight.

‘I am so grateful to you for protecting me,’ she continued, placing gentle kisses on Hetty’s cheek. ‘If you had not been there to stand up for me, heaven knows what I should have had to endure. I am eternally grateful to you, dear George.’

Hetty decided to shamelessly play the hero. ‘So long as you are safe, I care little what they do to me.’

‘But what
did
they do to you?’ she pleaded to know, holding him at arm’s length and staring into his face as if she could read the truth there. ‘Did they… did they hurt you at all?’

‘Somewhat,’ Hetty admitted, ‘but it was nothing I could not endure. I am sore behind, that is all.’

‘They
whipped
you?’ Jane’s tone was indignant. ‘How
dare
they?’

‘They seem to relish such diversions in this house. Still, I shall feel better by morning.’

Jane snuggled close to her again; so close Hetty feared she might detect the feminine swell of her bosom beneath her shirt. Nevertheless, she kissed the girl’s fragrant hair and listened with increasing pleasure to her grateful endearments.

‘Oh George, I wish to make you feel better now,’ she sighed. ‘When I was cruelly beaten, your sister kindly soothed my pain with some ointment of hers. Will you allow me to do the same for you?’

Hetty did not hesitate. Here, almost within her grasp, was the reward she had dreamed of whilst sucking off her disgusting tormentor. ‘Oh yes, Jane, if you would be so kind, that would be a great relief to me.’

Hetty was concerned lest Jane should glimpse her lack of male apparatus, so she kept her thighs tightly together while she spread herself facedown on the bed, naked from the waist down. Her heart was filled with all kinds of emotions as she felt the first tentative touch of Jane’s cool fingertips on her bottom cheeks. Her sex already hot and wet, she pressed it hard against the counterpane to at once assuage and stoke her arousal.

‘There, is that better?’ Jane whispered sweetly in the gloom.

‘Yes,’ she breathed, although she could scarcely bring herself to speak.

The delicate fingers were soon replaced by Jane’s soft lips, which pressed fervently against the central dimple of each of her buttocks, and Hetty regarded this as positive proof the girl was enamoured of George. The thought gave her mixed feelings. She felt obliged to keep up the deception, but in the guise of George she placed herself in jeopardy as far as Sir Victor and his harridan of a nursemaid were concerned. Her heart counselled her to change into her imaginary brother as often as possible, to encourage more of this delightful devotion from Jane, but her head advised otherwise knowing every time she dressed as George she risked exposure and further punishment. And, worst of all, it was wrong to lead poor innocent Jane on like this. The more deeply the girl fell in love with the imaginary George, the greater would be her disappointment and her heartache when he failed to possess her as a man does the woman he loves.

For now, however, she was blissfully content to wallow in Jane’s attentions. The girl’s hands grew bolder, sweeping over her buttocks with gentle but firm strokes, and then moved down to caress her thighs.

‘You have such smooth legs, George,’ she commented softly. ‘I have never been this close to any man before, yet I was taught that men’s legs were somewhat hairier than women’s.’

‘That is true as a general rule,’ Hetty replied in her theatrically deep voice. ‘But then consider Nurse Baines’s legs. She is a woman, or so we are led to believe, yet her legs are the hairiest I have ever seen on man
or
beast.’

Jane giggled, breaking the somewhat gloomy silence and filling Hetty’s heart with joy. Clutching her shirttails to continue covering her lack of male genitals, she rolled over onto her back and with one arm drew Jane down against her. ‘Dear Jane,’ she sighed wistfully, ‘if I were only half as dear to you as you are to me, I should be a happy man.’

‘Oh George,’ she responded tenderly, ‘I confess it, I
do
care for you very much.’

They kissed passionately, and Hetty contrived to hide the lower half of her body beneath the counterpane while she caressed Jane’s willing body. Her hands were allowed liberal access to the nubile form, and were soon roving over her delicious breasts and making free with her private parts beneath her skirt, clutching at her firm round buttocks and driving the girl to such a frenzy of passion she was convinced George might have his way with her unhindered. Alas, she was unable to perform the act Jane seemed to desire so much, and the thought saddened her, until she decided to seduce her another way. So holding her close, she whispered, ‘Jane, dearest, you are still a virgin, are you not?’

‘I – I believe so.’

‘Yet I fear your sweet flower may be taken from you by one who does not care about you as much as I do, and that thought is hateful to me.’

‘To me, too,’ she agreed fervently. ‘I would rather you took my maidenhead, dear George, than any other man alive.’

‘I would not force myself upon you, dearest one.’

‘I know that…’

‘I would be gentle, seeking only to give you pleasure.’

‘Yes, George, I know, that is why I long for you to awaken me. I have strange feelings for you, like a terrible growing hunger in the pit of my stomach. Your lips and your hands already have such power over me… please, take me entirely, for I am yours already.’ So saying, she began stripping off her clothes until she lay beside Hetty on the bed completely naked. Her breasts were tight and swollen, her nipples hard and needy, and her thighs moved restlessly, exposing the dark cleft of her sex in an instinctively erotic way. Hetty felt an answering need in herself as she began stroking the warm and inviting body. She took each of her nipples between her lips in turn, suckling hard, and the moans she received in response spurred her on. Her hands flew down her sleek hips to caress her thighs, which opened wide beneath her touch.

‘Yes,’ Jane whispered softly, as if she were talking to the night itself. ‘I am yours… take me,
please
…’

Never before had Hetty felt so keenly the inadequacy of her male disguise. Yet she was now determined to do what she could to satisfy Jane’s desires. She contorted her own body so she could place her head between her legs, and her face soon found its way to her soft labia. Her tongue met no resistance as it probed between the moist outer lips, and then searched out the fragrant pearl of pleasure crowning them.

Jane was beside herself with rapture, writhing and moaning as Hetty’s agile tongue probed her sex, always returning to the hard seed at the heart of her deepening pleasure. The fresh juices flowing into Hetty’s mouth tasted like sweet wine, and while her lips and tongue continued arousing her, she stroked her silky inner thighs gently with her fingers, sensing the lovely virgin was more than ready for her first penetration.

Still ardently licking her clitoris, Hetty let her fingertip glide up into the vestibule of Jane’s pussy, feeling the soft inner lips opening in response. She moved her finger slowly round and round, eliciting breathless cries of mingled fear and ecstasy from her willing victim, and then very slowly but firmly pushed inwards, to the last bastion of her flesh’s resistance. Jane let out a breathless ‘Oh!’ and Hetty felt her finger being caressed by an involuntary clenching of inner muscles urging it deeper, but she resisted the desire to push through the hymen and take her virginity.

‘Jane, you are delicious,’ she murmured, finding words quite inadequate to describe how she felt.

‘No, George, it is
you
who are wonderful,’ she sighed. ‘I feel… I feel such exquisite sensations, like one of those saints in rapture you see in the stained glass window in church. Please do not stop what you are doing, my lord!’