by Twist,Tommy
Marina Morrow
Shelly Callahan hadn't seen a house so big in all her wildest dreams when she started working at the Weston home. She thought it was big enough to hold her whole town and she was probably right to boot. She was one of the lower maids, responsible for a number of menial tasks—changing linens, fetching things for higher wait staff, and so on.
She wasn't too bright but she got the job done.
The girls told wild stories about former employers, stories they either made up or must've been sworn to secrecy on but clearly they weren't maintaining their word. One particularly worrying story was about a man in his seventies, fat and tired, who checked each female's innocence personally.
Another less believable story was that a young, attractive fellow beat his maids for his own perverse pleasure, another was believed to eat small children.
It was hard to put much stock in the stories, but young Shelly had always worried about men's lasciviousness to begin with so she had insisted at the agency on being assigned to a gentleman who was married. She'd gotten her wish, thankfully, because the fellow who she had made the complaint to had made no such note in her file when he handed it to the clerks.
Shelly's day was a simple routine and it rarely varied in any significant way: wake early, fetch various items for cooks and for valets and so on, changing sheets while the family took their morning meal.
Shelly had quickly learned that in spite of the obvious order, it was best recommended that she change the Master's last because he was prone to taking a morning constitutional and she had the most time with his, while the young mistress had a proclivity for returning to her chambers after breaking her fast to write laborious letters to suitors and to explain them to anyone who was in the area, regardless of station, which left Shelly in the awkward position of not being able to do further duties for fear of offending young miss Weston.
The days quickly became routine and Shelly's fears for being leched at quickly faded into the monotony of trying to get everything done in a single day.
The Lord was going out for the fortnight with the Lady of the house to the Lady's family home and Shelly was preparing for their journey as best she could along with the rest of the staff. She had, for reasons she couldn't entirely explain, been assigned to transferring certain of the family jewels to traveling cases that the Lady might dress in her finery on the road.
Shelly had thus far been limited to certain rooms of the estate and though she felt familiar with the place she had not spent any time with valuables as yet and she found herself shocked at the items. One necklace, rubies and diamonds in a fitted collar fascinated her, and though she saw many other fine things—exotic rings with jewels she couldn't think to name, brooches whose artistry defied imagination—she found herself continually drawn to the ruby piece.
When the other maids were distracted with packing clothing into luggage, she glanced around and, convinced that nobody would see, she slipped it around her throat, not clasping but simply holding it against her, imagining what it would be like to be in such a fine piece and to be recognized as an important Lady by the rowdy fellows back at home, she heard a man's voice behind her.
"Excuse me, miss Callahan. What are you doing with that?" The tone suggested that she needn't answer, and she spun around like a top and tried to set the necklace down on the armoire, but the damage was done.
She couldn't look the speaker in the eye closely enough even to recognize him, simply seeing his leather shoes covered by linen cuffs and he barked "Look at me when I'm speaking to you." She fought her nerves and looked up.
It was the Lord Weston, looking altogether displeased with her, and the color drained from Shelly's face. The words to apologize were on the tip of her tongue but nothing came out, and she felt her tongue swelling up and her throat closing up. She was certainly to be fired and then who would feed her mother?
Her good-for-nothing brother certainly wouldn't, being too principally involved with his politics and her father rest his soul was dead going on five years now. Shelly opened her mouth and closed it, repeating the action multiple times until she fell to a middle ground of her lips trembling.
"Sit down, miss Callahan, we need to talk. Missus Lincoln, would you and the girls please grant us some privacy? Send Franklin to me."
Shelly sat reflexively and said nothing, her mind still racing with how horribly she'd made her mistake.
The other women left the room and the Lord closed the door gently before sitting at his writing desk and saying nothing, his pen scrawling quickly across a page, folding it and then he sealed it. He turned finally and waited.
The door opened and the Lord's valet entered, whereupon Lord Weston handed him the note and asked him to take it to Lady Weston. When Franklin had departed he rose and stood giving Shelly an appraising look. Shelly was so lost in her own world that she nearly missed the word from his mouth:
"Strip." Shelly didn't respond for a moment, before looking up dubiously.
"Sir?"
"Miss Callahan," he said simply, "I asked you to strip. Don't make me ask a third time."
Shelly's face blanched further if that were possible, but she stood and turned away, beginning to undo the laces on her uniform and trying to keep the tears from coming, and almost before she knew it she stood facing the corner in her smallclothes.
She turned back to Lord Weston and tried to stand straight.
"Miss Callahan, my people have done some digging into your background, as they have of all of the men and women under my employ," he stated simply. He sat down at his desk once more, turning the chair to face the room.
"Your brother, Kevin, is involved with certain unsavory actions against the Crown, is he not?" At this Shelly began to weep openly, caught between trying to stand straight and hide her tears and her modesty. Lord Weston continued unabated.
"I wouldn't like to concern you for no cause, miss Callahan. There is not enough overt evidence to send your brother to hang and it is not my intention to threaten you with someone I have known for the months you have been in my employ." Shelly's tears didn't subside but she almost wanted to thank the Lord.
"No, miss, what I am concerned with is that you, too, have known this for much longer than I have, and yet in spite of the possibility of being accused of treason for withholding such sensitive information, you have not shared it with anyone that my investigators could find. In short, miss, you are reliable about keeping private matters, well, private."
She nodded through her tears. It was a point of pride back home to not be a snitch and she had taken it as such from a young age. The Lord rose and crossed the room, taking her chin gently in hand.
"That's good, miss Callahan. I am currently in need of a young lady with such a trait." At this Shelly wished fervently that she could quell her tears and ask what he meant. She looked into his eyes, trying to keep her face as fine as possible in spite of her uncontrollable tears. She was hoping this was not going to go where she thought it was.
She had been saving herself until marriage as was fine in the eyes of the Lord God Almighty and though she would do it to keep her mother fed, she did not relish the thought of staining herself in the eyes of God.
"I want you to understood that the things I say must be kept in the strictest confidence, miss." He stepped over to the door, opened it just far enough to make sure no ears were present, and then locked the door.
"It is my wife, you see. She is desirous of companionship." Shelly finally managed to dry her eyes just slightly.
"S-sir?" She shivered and her lips trembled and it took all of her wits not to begin bawling anew.
"She desires a certain kind of companionship, miss, of a... shall we say, personal nature. It is not my wish that she risk pregnancy with a man, and I wish to keep it within the estate. The wrong sort of person might let something slip and the Weston name would be irreparably harmed. That is the one thing I cannot have, is for the rest of the Queen's subjects to think... to know, that m
y wife and the Lady of the Weston estate is a, is a wanton hussy who lusts for such carnal things."
Lord Weston looked pale and bitter and suddenly it became clear to Shelly how seriously he took the matter. She nodded softly.
"I have no desire to be cuckolded, or to risk her becoming with child from such a tryst and for this reason I have taken it upon myself that she might be... accompanied by a female member of the estate. By you, miss Callahan."
At that point, Shelly began to stammer softly, insisting she had never been with a woman and that she was far less suited for the task than some of the other girls she was certain and that wouldn't the Lord please consider rescinding his order, while Lord Weston looked at her massively.
He didn't say anything immediately, instead rising, unlocking the door, and turning.
"Miss Callahan," he said softly. "Pack your things for the road. We leave tomorrow morning. You shall be needing at least three dresses and clothing for traveling. A hat is recommended." And then he was gone.
Shelly was introduced to Mistress Weston on the road; young Callahan was surprised to find that Lady Weston spoke to her almost as if she weren't a servant, and she suspected the contents of the note which the Lord had sent for his wife, given the seal and the timing of the affair.
Mistress Weston treated Shelly almost like a new friend and Shelly found it very easy to talk to her, but mostly consented to listen to the Lady's talk about her daily life, problems with the higher staff (many of which the servant girl almost laughed aloud at), and various news items which Shelly had not found herself privy to until now.
Lady Weston talked at such length with such informality that when the carriage arrived in South London, Shelly was puzzled for a moment when she received an expectant look, at which point she opened the door for her Lady and grabbed the things as she had rather done immediately. Shelly apologized profusely and Mistress Weston accepted graciously, rather like a Lady indeed. Shelly blushed a bit, thinking what they were supposed to do at some later, unspecified time.
The Westons and staff took up residence for the time at the Lady's family estate, a pair of buildings that made up for their lack of sophisticated architecture and lack of land coverage with height and with density.
Shelly was to take the room beside Milady's, as her maid for the purposes of this trip, and if Lady Weston had need of her there was a bell to the Maid's room from hers with which she could use to summon assistance.
Shelly found herself unable to sleep the first night, having not been explained to about the timing of the matters to come, waiting for the bell to ring and for her descent into sin to begin, but it did not and though she had believed herself to have vigilantly waited the night away she was woken in the morning when the footman knocked, and helped to prepare breakfast as usual.
The kitchen was staffed by completely new people, of course, and Shelly found she had little to do, as they had a youngster doing her very job here already, and she knew no other work in the kitchen properly. When breakfast was served it was explained that Shelly would be serving Milady her meal and was to wait in the room like a proper maid and she found myself slightly giddy at this sudden, albeit more than likely temporary, promotion.
The table conversation was nothing of any interest to anyone outside the family, mainly concerning business and the state of branch families that Shelly had hardly heard the names of in her life, let alone known their relationship to her employer.
She found herself bored, waiting for the thing to be finished with that she might return to her quarters until she had something more active to do, and indeed that is what she did.
Fourteen days passed this way, waking in the morning, standing attentive but distant to the side of the room, and then sitting in her small bedroom unless Lady Weston had some errand with which she needed assistance, and when Shelly returned she found that she was looking forward to the bustle of the Weston estate to counter the long, empty hours of waiting.
The conversation on the return trip was much the same, with miss Callahan keeping her mouth mainly shut and Mistress Weston speaking about the family and the trip and developments in the political arena of which Shelly was only faintly aware and related to her not at all.
Still, it was relaxing to hear Lady Weston's voice, a deep alto, speaking excitedly about these various subjects, like a spoken lullaby. She found herself nearly lounging all the way back to the manor.
Remembering her mistake from last time, when she came within sight of the estate Shelly perked back up, preparing to take on her duties unpacking luggage and the like.
When they had exited their respective carriages, Lord and Lady Weston came together and clasped hands, and Lady Weston said, not quite loud enough for anyone else to hear, "She will do, Teddy." The only person who could hear it was Lord Weston and Shelly, and Shelly found herself not entirely sure how she felt about it any more.
The day passed relatively normally, and Shelly found it surprising how easily she slipped back into her routine after so long doing things differently. That night she was undressing for bed when she received a knock at the door.
She drew a shawl around her shoulders and answered the door to find the Lord's valet waiting for her, with a summons to the Lady's room. Evidently she had something to discuss regarding the trip to London.
Franklin left her outside the door, and when she knocked she was greeted by the Lady of the house in a light silk robe and, evidently, nothing else. She was taken inside and when the door shut she felt Lady Weston's lips on her.
"My lady," she began.
"Susan, please." Shelly was stunned for a moment.
"My... Susan, I don't..." Shelly trailed off and Susan Weston nodded knowingly.
"Don't worry little Shelly, I'll teach you." She drew the shawl off Shelly's shoulders and kissed the maid's neck, drawing her into an embrace. Shelly found herself mewling softly without even realizing it, pressing into her Lady's amorous lips.
Susan pushed the robe off her shoulders and stepped back.
Shelly had realized that the Lord had married a somewhat younger woman but she was surprised at how much younger; Susan was only slightly older than Shelly herself, and though she had the wrinkles about her eyes of worry her figure showed no such age, with her firm breasts small and topped with light pink nipples.
She drew Shelly's head to her breast and told her to suck them, and after a brief hesitation young Callahan did so, sucking and licking alternately and she noted with pride that Lady Weston's breathing became slightly ragged. She felt a hand on her ass and gasped, letting the nipple, now stiff and engorged, fall out of her mouth.
Lady Weston began to pull Shelly's slip off, letting her hands drift over the maid's ivory skin as it was revealed to her eyes. Susan spent more than a moment lavishing attention on Shelly's breasts, which were larger than the Lady's by a fair bit, before she finally drew one into her mouth in reciprocation, biting and sucking with abandon in stark contrast to Shelly's novice efforts.
Susan sat on the bed and drew the servant into her lap, beginning to rub her young nubile clit with her thumb.
Shelly began to buck slightly against the pressure on her pussy, wanting to feel more of the sensations floating through her body. The Mistress bit down hard on a nipple and tsk'd at this, a mischievous smile crossing her face.
"Now young miss Callahan, whatever will we do with you?" She made a face as if she were considering some sort of punishment. "I think you're going to have to do something for me." She pushed the young maid off her lap gently and told her to kneel.
Shelly did as she was told and was rewarded by having her face pushed into the Lady's pussy, with simple and vocal instructions: "Lick it."
Shelly ran her tongue up and down the slit, finding that she got a reaction when her tongue ran across a hard bump at the top of Lady Weston's pussy.
She licked it with abandon, sucking it gently and she noted, again with pride, when her Lady held her head into her crotch hard, and a
fter only a few moments her mouth filled with a sweet-tasting fluid. Lady Weston released her grip on Shelly's hair that had been slowly tightening, and she relaxed.
After a moment she spoke: "Shelly, would you please get on the bed and lay back?" Shelly did as she was asked, not daring to wonder what could possibly come next, when she felt the same pressure on her clit, rubbing quickly and fervently.
The stimulation was too much and with the musky smell of sex and her arousal pervading the room she came hard, an electric tightness in her stomach that spread out from there and then she, too, relaxed and was joined by her Mistress.
"That was very good for your first time, Shelly." Susan leaned over and kissed her on the lips. "We'll see what you've learned tomorrow night."
Her Sexy, Magical Bodyguard
His Naughty Magic
Wren Winter
Noah settled into the seat and tried not to show the pleasure on his face. The client was between his legs, her mouth attached to his cock and bobbing up and down. He felt her lips on him, every little shift bringing him greater pleasure.
He struggled to maintain his aloof, commanding expression. He put a hand on her head, gently. She would stop when she wanted to, and he knew it would be soon. Wasting his cum in her mouth would be an expensive mistake.
She bobbed her head faster, and he thought that perhaps he would need to revise his opinion. And then, when he felt himself nearing the edge, ready to finish—it would mean double rates, after all—she stopped. Noah found himself revising his opinion of this woman again: she was devious, this one. He could see in the way that her lips curled up as she pulled away from his cock, that she knew exactly how close she’d gotten, and she enjoyed the frustration that she knew he was feeling even as he hid it from her.
The client let her shirt, unbuttoned, fall from her shoulders. Her pants were practically a second skin, and she peeled them away revealing a thick ass and perfect legs. Sometimes, Noah thought, the job had it’s perks.
Then she pulled her panties down, kicking them away, and she bent over. He could see the folds of her pussy, calling out to him. The arousal when you exchange essence like this was heady; Noah had long since given up lovemaking with civilians.
