Guardian Girl (The Chronicles of Staffordshire)

by Simmons, NC

  “But if you are the woman I suspect you are... If you are the erotic..." Rory slipped, hurrying to correct his unfortunate telegraph of the shock and awe to come. "…if you are truly the evocative woman I have come to know and love, I suspect by the end of this tour you will be prepared to marry me and become so much more than just my wife.”

  Still bewildered, Lenore shrugged. "Rory, I have seen just about everything in 26 years of life. I have been to a few exotic countries and seen many unusual things. I am certain I can handle this place."

  "I hope so, darling. Take my hand. Let me show you around.”

  Rory led Lenore on a brisk tour of the first floor. The few servants they encountered greeted them deferentially with "Ma'am," or "Sir," or "Yes, Mr. St. Cloud," or "Good Morning, Mr. St. Cloud." They passed numerous original paintings and lithographs of the masters with a particular emphasis on Rory’s obsession with French impressionists. Monet, Cezanne, Matisse.

  One painting in particular caught Lenore’s attention. She clapped her hand to her mouth in shock. “Rory… Is that what I think it is?”

  Rory smiled. He would indeed marry well. “Yes, darling. Not many people recognize that piece. It will be on loan to the Philadelphia Museum of Art next year.”

  Rounding a corner, Lenore gasped again. In a flattering touch, Rory had lined the inner wall of the west wing with a dozen framed mattings of Lenore’s most famous – and racy - magazine covers. He had his favorite shot blown up to life size and hung prominently in the center. It was of Lenore’s infamous “body paint” bikini shot from her junior year in college. Shot in St. Tropez, the entire series showed off all of Lenore’s curves and assets. A minuscule, realistic looking, painted-on, leopard print triangle top did a lovely job of introducing the world to Lenore’s youthful breasts and perky nipples. Alas, the thong bottom was real.

  Lenore blushed. Rory crushed. They paused for a few minutes to make out in front of the photo.

  The tour continued, passing through two kitchens, a large game room with multiple pool tables, the Olympic sized indoor pool (with attached shower and changing rooms), the enormous, chandelier-lit, formal living room, a large library (over 5,000 volumes, most first-edition classics), a solarium with a multi-level indoor garden, and the masterpiece of the home, the grand ballroom. In the ballroom Lenore imagined great charity benefits with hundreds of people milling about the estate, pouring their money into the family’s philanthropic passions.

  Lenore noticed nothing out of the ordinary on the first floor. Rory's cryptic meanderings seemed unwarranted. She breathed easily. Perhaps the stress of living alone in such a home made him see ghosts that were not there?

  The second floor beckoned. The abundance of bedrooms and drawing rooms and sitting rooms – fourteen in all - took Lenore aback. Off the main balcony were doors into four bedrooms. The combination locks on each door struck a curious note of secrecy in an otherwise open-access home.

  Rory gestured toward the balcony doors and the pair headed toward the far stairwell. "These are guest bedrooms.” At the other end of the balcony, he pointed down a long side corridor. "These five are for children and other family members.” Rory gestured back over his shoulder in the direction from which they’d come. "Let's head back toward the Master Suites."

  Walking back along the balcony, Rory and Lenore encountered the upstairs maid exiting the last guest bedroom nearest the Master Suites. A stunning Latina, the maid stood about 5'4" tall with a medium sized body molded by the gods, endowed nicely in all the right areas. Lenore examined the maid as the woman set down a basket of linens and locked the guest room door. Her uniform seemed a little short, with a hemline stopping just above the garter-attached lace tops of tight-weave, fishnet stockings. Black, patent leather pumps with glinting, steel, 5” stiletto heels added a curious note of kink. Not exactly the kind of uniform a hard-working maid would wear for a day of cleaning bedrooms and bathrooms. From the side, the maid’s appearance seemed off.

  As the maid rose with her linens and tugged down on her uniform, Lenore got an eye full. An impossible-to-zipper, intentionally kinky eye full. The uniform hugged her curvaceous hips and wrapped her abundant rump, but from the waist up it left nothing to the imagination. Half of each bountiful, unsupported, tan-line-free tit roamed free, acres of cleavage and boob straining for release above a taut, ab-crunched tummy. A luring hint of areola teased Lenore as the maid offered her hand to the comfortably bi-sexual girlfriend.

  "Hello, Master! Is this our future Mistress?"

  The maid leered at Lenore, slipping her tongue across her lips. The motion did not escape Lenore’s attention, striking her as wholly inappropriate for a first visit. On the second, perhaps…

  "Indeed she will be, Maricela. That is,” Rory winked, “assuming she still likes us after she's concluded the tour. Maricela Estrada, please let me introduce Ms. Lenore De La Fuente.”

  Maricela snared Lenore’s hand with a firm, two fisted grip and immediately groped her wrist and forearm. “Ohhh… Ms. De La Fuente... I so adore your work! You are such a beautiful and gifted woman and such an inspiration to all of us! We are all sooo excited about your visit! Have you enjoyed your stay so far?”

  Lenore swallowed hard, pupils dilating, pulse racing. Her skin electrified and goosebumps popped all over her body. “Why… Yes… Yes… It has been… Uh… Wonderful. So far.”

  The maid traced her index finger up Lenore’s forearm, invaded Lenore’s personal space, and leaned into her ear. Lenore inhaled sharply. "Please, Mistress… Please… Let me know if I can do anything… Anything at all… To make your stay more… Pleasurable.”

  Lenore exhaled with a huff. "Thank you… Maricela. I will… Uhm… I will let… Uhm… Rory… I will let Rory know if I need anything.”

  Maricela lifted Lenore’s palm to her lips and kissed. She switched ears to take Lenore’s brain through an erotic spin cycle. "Ohhhh… Noooo, Señora. Master Rory has instructed me to personally attend to your every desire. I am yours to do with as you wish, Mistress.”

  Maricela could tell from the look on Lenore’s face that she still wasn’t getting it. One last time, she pressed her lips to Lenore’s ear, tracing the ridges with her tongue.

  “Ohhh… Señora Lenore… Soy tu esclava. Mi cuerpo es tuyo.”

  Lenore’s eyes widened. Opening her mouth to reply, Lenore suddenly felt breathlessly heady. "I… Yes... You… I… I will... I will let you know… Maricela.”

  "Thank you, Mistress! Thank you so much!”

  And just like that, the maid moved on. Maricela released Lenore’s hand, stepped back, and picked up her linens. Lenore panted at Rory’s side, trembling, brushing the back of her hand across her sweating forehead. Rory inquired regarding other preparations for Lenore’s visit as if the whole encounter was just a part of normal life at the estate.

  “By the way, Maricela, how are things downstairs?”

  “Everything is ready, sir. We are prepared for you as soon as you complete your visit to the master suite.”

  “Thank you, Maricela. That will be all for now.”

  With a nod, the maid turned and vanished around the corner, heading toward the back stairwell and down to the kitchen.

  Breathing came in fits and starts for the stirred girlfriend. Rory allowed Lenore a moment to recover. She stared gape-mouthed at her tour guide, eyes blinking slowly. Taking Lenore by the hand, Rory continued the tour as if bi-play was just part of an ordinary day at the big house.

  "Come this way, darling. Let me show you the master suite.”

  They took a left turn just beyond the guest room and walked hand-in-hand past two other nondescript bedroom doors to the last room on the right, next to the wooden stairs at the back end of the hallway. Rory punched in a 3-digit code on the mechanical lock.

  Though still a little stunned, the high-security lock did not escape Lenore’s attention. "Rory, I have been wondering… Why do you have locks on the bedroom doors?"

  "Ohhh… We just wan
t to protect children from adult liaisons. Now,” Rory opened the door, “welcome to our bedroom, my love.”

  The titillation of the maid’s seduction evaporated. Lenore’s jaw dropped. Scaled to match the excess of the home, the master bedroom measured 30' x 30', with a four-posted king-sized bed situated in the very center of the room. Enormous, hand carved, head and foot boards bookended the mattress. Ceiling mounted mirrors filled the area otherwise allocated for a canopy. Mirrors filled the entire ceiling, in fact. Red satin sheets called to Lenore. A half-dozen pillows of varying shapes and sizes leaned up against the headboard.

  Scattered around the room were the requisite pieces of furniture. Two dressers each for the Master and Mistress of the house, a vanity for the lady, and dressing racks for both. Also scattered here and there were unusual pieces of furniture. Near the bed sat a large, single-piece chaise lounge in the shape of a sideways "S." Lenore recognized the shape. India, she thought. Was it a... A "Tantra" chair? Of the Karma Sutra?

  On the outer wall, between floor-to-ceiling windows, an ornate, stone-laid fireplace sat between two reclining love seats. A large, animal skin rug laid on the floor between them. Lenore felt romantic imaginings take root, envisioning Rory and she locked in a lover’s embrace on the rug, lounging near a warming fire.

  ...Until she realized there were "two" sets of love seats in the "master" bedroom. “Hmmm…” Lenore mulled with delight. “Perfect for Lena and her ‘The One’.”

  "Let’s check the closets,” Rory suggested.

  Rory led Lenore to a door to the left of her vanity. Inside was a fully stocked walk-in closet with all the latest fashions. There were dozens of dresses, suits, gowns, jeans, tops, skirts, and shorts, all seemingly selected in her size and fitting her signature style. In the near corner, Lenore recognized several of Shalamar’s custom designs, originals Raquel created only for Lenore and withheld from retail channels.

  Lenore gaped at the forethought the Master had put into the room. "Rory! Did you do this all by yourself?!”

  "No," confessed the typical male. "My assistant, Miss Nichols, did most of it. She and Raquel have become quite intimate these past few months."

  "Really? I think I like this Miss Nichols already!"

  "But there is another room just for you, darling."

  "There is something that can top this? You must work very hard to achieve that, Rory."

  With a grand flourish, Rory led Lenore by the hand to another walk-in closet at the other side of her vanity. Inside, Lenore found hundreds of pairs of shoes arranged neatly, row upon row, color coordinated to make selection easier. More eclectic and edgier than the clothes, the assortment included everything from thigh-high leather boots, to sky-high pumps, to calf-wrap sandals, (Lenore’s favorite of all), to cross-trainers, runners, and riding boots. The room represented a shoe fetishist’s heaven on earth.

  The shoe closet caused Lenore to do a double take. And a triple take. And a quadruple take.

  Rory broke through her astonishment. "Did we do well, Lenore?"

  "ARE YOU SERIOUS? YES! YES! A thousand times YES!” Lenore ran to Rory and threw her arms around his neck, hugging and kissing. “You did this beautifully, Rory! Miss Nichols, again?

  "Of course."

  “I positively LOVE this woman! Will I meet her today?”

  With a dirty grin, Rory assured Lenore, “Yes, you will definitely meet Miss Nichols today. You will get to know her quite intimately, as well.”

  Lenore released her grip on Rory, pointed at the bed, and moved toward it. “May I test this out?”

  “Of course, love. One day it will be your bed, too. However…” Rory paused for dramatic effect, holding up his index finger as a note of caution. "If you disturb the sheets, dear, I regret I must punish you. Maricela just made the bed and I would hate to call her back just to clean up your mess.”

  “Ex-cuse me?” Lenore spun and glared at Rory, stunned by the word, “punish.” “Did you just say you would ‘punish’ me? What does that mean, dear? We are not revisiting the ‘hag’ incident, are we?”

  “I meant just what I said, dear,” Rory said with a glorious smirk. “If you disturb the covers I must punish you. It is the Staffordshire way.”

  With a naughty, childlike squeal Lenore ran toward the bed and leapt. She landed face down, flipped to her back, and writhed seductively against the perfectly smoothed sheets. Lenore clawed, and pawed, and ground her bottom into the slick fabric. Propping herself on one elbow, Lenore grinned at Rory. In a flash to a playful, childish side, she stuck out her tongue.

  “Did you just stick out your tongue at me, Lenore?”

  “I don’t know, dear. Did the ‘hag’?” she teased. The sheer allure and size of the house intoxicated Lenore. She played with Rory in taunting, enticing ways she never dared do in public.

  Rory walked casually to the nightstand by the bed and picked up the phone. He pressed a speed dial number. “I warned you, Lenore. If you disturbed the sheets I would see to your punishment.” He smiled throughout, satisfied he baited his naïve girlfriend into precisely the position he desired. A male voice answered the call.

  “Hello, Joshua. Would you please come to my bedroom? I have a very naughty girl you must punish for me. Thank you.”

  A note of irritation pursed Lenore’s lips. She squinted. “Rory St. Cloud. Did you pick up that phone and ask someone named ‘Joshua' to come up here and ‘punish’ me? And did you just call me a ‘naughty girl'? Is that what just happened?”

  “I warned you, darling. You were not to disturb the bed. You disobeyed. At Staffordshire, such impudence demands firm discipline.”

  Rory relished the game. He moved closer to the bed, bending to caress Lenore’s face. “After all, dear, if you are to be my wife… If you are to be the Mistress of this grand house... You must first be disciplined.”

  Rory kissed Lenore, sucking playfully on each of her lips. Lenore responded eagerly, forgetting that someone named Joshua was on his way to the bedroom. Also lost on the impish bed-besmircher was yet another invocation of the “M” word.

  As Joshua came through the door Lenore gasped. In comparison to Rory, a 6’1”, 210 pound, former rugby player, black-suited Joshua stood 6’4” tall and weighed nearly 240lbs. Shockingly handsome, Joshua sported a square-jawed northern European face and short-cropped head of blond hair. An affinity for Norse gods made Lenore’s titties tingle.

  “You required my service, Master?”

  “Yes, Joshua. Ms. De La Fuente disobeyed my orders. She has disturbed the sheets on my bed and she must be disciplined for her disobedience. You know what you must do…”

  Twenty Eight

  Joshua took a menacing step toward the bed. The word “discipline” caught Lenore’s attention. With a waver in her voice, she asked, “Discipline? Rory, what is going on…?

  “Don’t worry, darling. Consider this ‘play’ discipline. Joshua is just going to ‘play’ with you. He may be big, but he’s really a teddy bear, isn’t that right, Joshua?”

  “Absolutely, Ma’am,” Joshua nodded, lifting his hands for emphasis. “Totally de-clawed.”

  Trusting but wary, Lenore calmed. “Alright, Rory. I will play along… As long as it is only ‘play’.”

  “Trust me darling. You will enjoy this playtime. Oh Joshua… One more thing before you administer the discipline…”

  “Yes, sir?

  “Ms. De La Fuente has no safe word. A simple ‘no’ or ‘stop' will suffice.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The waver was back. “’Safe word,’ Rory? What is a ‘safe’ word? Why do I need a ‘safe’ word?”

  Rory waved his hand, dismissing all concern. “It’s just a formality, Lenore. After all, darling, discipline — even ‘play’ discipline — is a contact sport. Joshua will touch you on my behalf and I want to ensure that he does not accidentally hurt you. He is, after all, a very big boy.

  “Now, Lenore… Joshua is here because you have been a naughty little girl an
d you must be disciplined. Joshua is going to touch you as he plays with you, so you should pretend to struggle. You can grab him, slap him, punch him… Whatever you wish. He can take it. It will be more fun that way. It’s always more fun if everyone is in character. Do you understand?

  “Yes… I think… You want me to struggle a little bit…?”

  “Yes, Lenore. You won’t hurt Joshua, so feel free to fight back. Now… You may proceed, Joshua.”

  The man-mountain stepped to the bed, grabbed Lenore, who had been reclining on her side, lifted her, and flipped her over onto her stomach with rag doll ease. Mid-flip, Lenore slugged Joshua’s arm. Just for play, of course. It felt good to hit a man as big and strong as Joshua and not have him fight back. Joshua didn’t flinch. Lenore giggled.

  As Rory expected, the manhandling excited Lenore. Lying on her stomach, she extended a hand and wagged her finger at The Master. “Rory, dear… You did not tell me Joshua would flip me like a hamburger…”

  “Joshua, please position Ms. De La Fuente so I may better supervise your activities. And remember, Lenore… Keep struggling. You are a naughty little girl, so be naughty.”

  Rory moved to a maroon leather, wing-backed, button-tufted chair located near the foot of the bed, sat, crossed his legs, and relaxed in regal style. With one hand Joshua held down Lenore’s shoulders, with the other he reached under her stomach and lifted her hips, aiming her two-million-dollar ass directly at The Master. Lenore tried to push up on her shoulders. Joshua shoved her back down. She reached out and punched his thigh.

  “That’s good, Lenore! Keep struggling. Now, Joshua… Please lift away Ms. De La Fuente’s dress.”

  The tour suddenly took a decidedly unexpected and kinky turn. Rory said nothing about exposing Lenore’s multi-million-dollar ass to the help. Lenore immediately propped herself on her palms and glanced between her legs to Rory’s smiling face. Was she a willing accomplice in her “discipline?” Did she want to beat a hasty exit and forget about marrying into the kinky family St. Cloud?