by N. J Ross
The way that the Duke was looking at me now, with a fire in his eyes, and a heat radiating from the very centre of him, out towards me, I began to think that perhaps I was rather beautiful after all…
‘This is to be our secret meeting place, Wanda,’ said the Duke, his hand resting upon my shoulder, causing me to jump with the sparks he caused on my skin when he touched me.
Then, before I had a chance to take in any more of this mysterious moment, he began walking to the house, calling the carriage boy to wake up the other two servant girls and take them to their sleeping quarters.
Chapter 3
‘You will sleep here,’ said the Duke, who had led me inside the house personally, and taken me to the far end of the house, to a quiet corridor that seemed far away from every other part of the house. I wondered for a moment if he might try to kill me in there, and thought that if I screamed, it was likely no one else would hear me.
‘Are Josie and Sarah to sleep here too?’ I asked, as the Duke opened the door and I saw, with dismay, just one small bed.
‘Their sleeping quarters are beside the kitchen,’ said the Duke. ‘It is just you here, girl… just you, all by yourself.’
I became aware of how fast my heart was beating, how strong a reaction my body seemed to have to my powerful new Master. He made me feel weak at the knees, and yet full of rage at the same time. Why was he saying such mysterious things to me? I was nothing more than a servant. Was he trying to scare me in some way?
‘Well, my dear,’ said the Duke. ‘It is past midnight, and I suggest you get a good night’s sleep.’ He gestured around the simple, rather dusty little room. ‘Make yourself at home. It is no palace in here, of course, but if you do as you are told, and behave yourself, like my good little girl, then I will give you everything that you deserve.’ With those strange words, he lit a candle beside my bed, and bid me goodnight, then walked over to my door.
‘Oh yes, just one more thing, Wanda,’ he said, his eyes moving over my slim, shivering body. ‘You remember our meeting place outside?’
I nodded fearfully.
‘Meet me there after breakfast,’ he said, and then looked a little more closely at me. ‘And make sure you bathe yourself first.’
He then turned, and exited my room, closing the door behind me, leaving me standing there, my heart beating furiously, fearfully, wondering what terrible things awaited me in my new life in Penzance.
*
That night, of course, I barely slept a wink.
All night long, I was tormented by images of the Duke’s face. His angular jawline, his determined eyes, his tall, towering stature… At first I had been surprised by how handsome and gentle he had seemed, but then… the things he had been saying, with such a deep, powerful confidence… what did he want from me? What terrified me most of all, though, was the strange effect that this white man had on me. He had made me feel… beautiful… for the first time in my life. He had made me realise than I was more than just black skin and bone. I was a woman.
And every woman needed a man.
Chapter 4
The next morning, after a night of tossing and turning, I was awake before sunrise, and far too unsettled to eat any of the breakfast which Sarah and Josie might have prepared in the kitchen. I did, however, heed my Master’s advice, and allow myself to take a bath.
Back in London, I had only been permitted to bathe three or four times a year, and I was well aware of what a grubby little wretch I was. I knew that my clothes were stained with sweat, and my face streaked with grime. But I was no different to any other lowly servant girl in that respect. I was, in fact, cleaner than a lot of them.
A bath, however, was a rare treat, and being instructed to take one by my own Master felt nothing short of a miracle. When I walked into the kitchen, and set down the old tin bath on the tiled floor, the cook looked at me with disapproval, her hands on her hips. ‘Oh dear,’ she said, taking me in. ‘You’ll never do for the Master like that. I’d better fetch you some new clothes to wear, once you’ve had that bath.’
She poured hot water from a copper kettle into the bath, filling it up to the brim with steaming, soapy water, and I removed my garments, there in the kitchen, naked in front of all the other servant girls. I wondered if any of them had ever seen a black girl before, let alone a stark naked one. I felt Josie’s eyes on the dark space between my legs as I stepped into the water. And, as I lowered myself in, I felt Sarah’s eyes on my breasts. Perhaps I was beautiful, after all, for only beautiful women attracted the stares of other girls.
I lay back in the bath, my eyes closed, feeling some of the tension I had felt earlier that day begin to melt away. Perhaps, in my tiredness and confusion, arriving at the manor house late last night, I had let my imagination run away with itself. The Duke had been a gentle man, had he not? He had welcomed me, escorted me to my room, and left me politely to take my slumber. What harm in that? And besides, the Duke was happily married, to the Duchess of Penzance. What would he want with me? And why would I even be thinking of him like that?
The cook returned to the kitchen after I had been soaking myself clean for ten minutes or so, and she placed a scrap of thin white material over the back of a chair near the future. ‘The Duke says you are to wear that for him today,’ said the cook, unblinking. ‘And he also told me to make sure you’re extra clean.’ She smiled, a big, grimacing smile, and picked up a cloth from the table and stepped towards me.
‘Oh, I can manage myself, thank you…’ I stuttered.
‘I’ve been given express instructions to scrub your privates,’ said the cook, without shame or embarrassment, dipping her red, calloused fist into the water, pushing the cloth between my legs.
‘Oh, no!’ I cried out, but it was too late. I felt the cloth touching the soft space at the top of my legs, stroking my silky lips, parting them ever so slightly and rubbing, a little harder than I would have liked, up and down, in between the folds.
‘Is that nice, girl?’ asked the cook.
I felt my cheeks redden, and noticed Josie watching me, hiding her face behind her hands, giggling. But I felt too aroused to feel embarrassed now. I had never been touched by another person - down there. It felt marvellous, not knowing which way the cloth would move next, and every time it did, it was a new surprise, tickling my most sensitive parts, playing with me, coaxing me. I lay back and closed my eyes, trying to imagine it was not the cook who was touching me at all, but someone else… someone like… the Duke?
I gasped at my wicked thought, and the cook grinned, thinking it was her touch that had made me gasp.
‘You think that’s good?’ she said, with a wink. ‘I’m going to scrub your rosebud now, Missy.’ She pushed the cloth further down, forcing it between my buttocks, and reached around to my tender dark hole. My eyes widened as the fabric touched me in the place I barely dared mention.
‘That’ll make you more presentable,’ said the cook. ‘You never know which bit is going to be needed.’
Needed? What did the cook mean by that? Before I had a chance to ask, she began applying soap to my breasts. ‘We’ll get these big black titties nice and gleaming now,’ she said, then looked over at a saucepan, beginning to boil over with water on the hob. ‘Oh, hang on a minute,’ she said. ‘I’d better see to that. Josie, come here my girl.’
Josie walked over to me, shyly.
‘Take this cloth,’ instructed the cook. ‘Now make sure Wanda’s tits are sparkling.’ She threw the cloth at Josie, who gave a quiet yelp and looked at me, shocked, but not altogether displeased, about this new task she had been given.
She knelt down beside the bath, her pretty young face beside mine. Her blue eyes shone with nervous excitement, as the cloth drew closer to me. ‘I’m going to scrub your left breast first,’ she whispered, as she lowered the cloth to my dark brown nipple. Instantly, I felt my nipple stand on end, and Josie’s soft, gentle hands worked on me, massaging and cleaning my big, ro
und black breast as it had never been done before. As she worked, Josie’s eyes shone even brighter, and her tongue drew slowly across her lips.
‘How’s that, Wanda?’ she whispered.
I looked into her eyes, smiled, and nodded.
Josie’s hand moved gently across to my right breast now, growing a little braver, circling the nipple and then massaging me in powerful movements, causing my breath to grow heavy. Josie smiled, and looked around to check what the cook was doing, then, she looked back at me, a mischievous glint in her eyes, and she moved the cloth down, rubbing it over my belly, and then further down, to my pubis. I felt the cloth between my legs once more, and then, suddenly, I felt Josie’s soft little fingers stroking my dark lips, and her fingers exploring the folds of flesh within me. Josie looked so pretty, with her blonde curls falling over her face as she concentrated on her exploration of my parts. Her face was so close to mine now that I wanted to reach out and kiss her.
‘Oh!’ I cried out in pleasure.
The cook snapped around from the hob and looked at us. ‘You’re a disgrace, the pair of you!’ she snapped. ‘There’ll be no time for that today. Get away from her, Josie. Wanda needs to get dressed, and go and visit the Duke.’
Josie, her cheeks red with embarrassment and, no doubt, arousal, stood up and scurried away, keeping her back to me as she peeled potatoes.
I stood up and stepped out of the bath with a sigh, my pussy still glistening, not just with bath water, but also with desire. I took the white dress that lay on the back of the chair by the fire, and as I pulled it on, over my skin, I marvelled at the silkiness of the fabric, and the way it clung to my figure. The material was so thin that the darkness of my skin shone through it. My nipples were visible through the pale fabric. I felt erotic and sensual, like an angel of love and lust, in a way that I had never done before. I ran my fingers over my body, enjoying the look and feeling of my curves.
‘Off you go then,’ said the cook, licking her lips as she looked at me.
Chapter 5
I walked quickly and nervously across the garden, back to the place I had stood last night, the place the Duke had referred to as the ‘secret meeting place’. Every few steps I stopped, checking my own breath and looking around me, wondering whether the Duke, or worse still, the Duchess might be following me. But it seemed that I was all alone.
I must admit that I felt rather magnificent, striding across the lawn in a see-through white dress. I had never worn anything so beautiful (and so risqué!) in all my life, and even though it felt more like a woman’s nightgown than it did a dress, what with being so thin and sheer and tight around my body, I now felt sexual urges that I had ever felt before.
I walked along to the edge of the garden, looking at the thicket of trees that I felt I recognised from last night, although it had been difficult to tell because of the darkness, and because I was so unfamiliar with the place. Was this correct? Would the Duke be here waiting for me?
Suddenly, I heard the snap of a twig, and then, before I could work out where it was coming from, I felt a strong hand encircling my wrist, dragging me into the bushes.
‘Ouch!’ I gasped, the hand not letting me go.
When I managed to regain my breath, and looked up at my captor, it was as I had guessed: the Duke, my Master.
‘Sir,’ I gasped. ‘You scared me.’
Still, the Duke held me tight by the wrist, looking down at me, his hostage. ‘Oh my goodness. You look ravishing, my dear. Utterly exquisite. Even better than I had expected, after seeing you last night.’
His brown eyes seemed like two black pools, drinking me in, pulling me towards them as if by some dark magic. He couldn’t keep his eyes off my breasts, off the dark nipples, showing through the fabric. ‘Now, you do understand why you are here, don’t you, Wanda?’ he asked, looking down at me, his breath heavy and lustful.
‘No, sir,’ I said, shaking my head, considering asking him to let me go, as my wrist was hurting me.
‘My wife..’ began the Duke, pushing me backwards a little, causing me to almost stumble to the floor, but luckily a tree directly behind me propped me up, and the Duke pushed me hard against it. ‘My wife, the Duchess,’ he said, ‘she is a good woman, but, alas, she is not a beautiful woman.’
He looked down at me, and I suddenly felt as though I were some kind of saucy bride to him, in this flimsy white dress.
‘When I am with the Duchess,’ said the Duke, his gaze becoming cloudy all of a sudden, ‘I cannot…’ Was that embarrassment on his face? ‘I cannot… give her my seed.’
‘Why, my Lord?’ I whispered, as he pushed my arms round behind the trunk of the tree, and took something out of his pockets. Suddenly, I felt the clasp of iron behind me.
‘I cannot manage to…’ said the Duke, stroking the black hair away from my clavicle, taking a step away from me to take me in, chained to the tree like his prisoner. ‘In order to spill my seed,’ said the Duke, more firmly now, less awkwardly, and with more of an animal look in my eyes, ‘I need two things.’
He began to remove his jacket, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on me. ‘First of all, I need a beautiful woman,’ he said, hanging his jacket on a nearby branch. I noticed how muscular his arms looked in his shirt, and wondered what it might feel to have a chest like his pressed against me. I also wondered if this muscular brute might be about to kill me, here in his enormous gardens, where nobody would hear my cries.
‘What’s the second thing you need, sir?’ I asked, my breath catching fearfully at the back of my throat.
‘The second thing I need,’ said the Duke, unbuttoning his shirt, and looking towards the manor, ‘is danger.’
‘Danger,’ I echoed quietly, trembling at the fate I was sure that awaited me at any moment.
‘Sadly,’ he continued, freeing his almighty, muscular chest from his shirt, and throwing the shirt to the floor, ‘sadly my wife can give me neither.’ He reached out towards me, stroking the dress up my thigh, his coarse, manly hands working their way up my inner thighs, closer and closer to my still glistening sex.
‘My wife is not beautiful,’ said the Duke, leaning down and kissing me gently on the cheeks, and, whispering in my ear, he added: ‘not like you.’ He was so close to me I could smell him, the animal lust of him. He smelt so much muskier and more powerful than any stable boy I had ever stood close to. Beside, the only thing the stable boys had ever smelt of was manure, and the Duke smelt of something else. He smelt of pure… sex. ‘You are the most exotic creature I have ever seen,’ he whispered. ‘You make me hard in an instant.’ He reached down to his crotch, appearing to grab himself, then shook his head, and returned his attention to me.
‘My wife is not dangerous,’ said the Duke, his fingers now on my bare pubis. I shivered at his touch, wondering whether he thought me a whore for not wearing any undergarments, though I knew, realistically, that this was the least of my worries right now. Suddenly, his fingers touched the outer lips of my delicate little black pussy, and I gasped. The Duke’s eyes widened, and he groaned. ‘You, my dear, are very dangerous.’
His fingers, so much more sure of themselves than Josie’s had been, pushed quickly and slickly deep inside my sex, causing me to make a little moan of discomfort, which caused the Duke to smile. ‘I like to use at least two fingers,’ said the Duke wickedly, and I hated him for it.
‘Why are you doing this to me?’ I spat angrily, though the discomfort I had felt was soon turning into waves of hot pleasure. ‘Your wife could see us from the window. She could come outside and see my dress in the bushes. She could have me killed!’
‘That’s what makes it dangerous,’ said the Duke, his fingers exploring my insides, stroking me in long, upward, beckoning movements. ‘You are a wet little creature, aren’t you?’ said the Duke, smiling at me, evidently pleased. ‘Such a nice treat for my big, hungry cock.’ I think at that moment, he must have seen the scowl on my face, for he added: ‘Don’t w
orry, I won’t hurt you.’
You already have, I wanted to add, but I was beginning to feel far too full of lust to speak. In fact, I found myself moving my groin up and down, riding his long, white fingers as if they were the saddle of a horse, riding them and riding them, fucking them exactly as I wanted, exactly where it felt good.
‘That’s it,’ said the Duke, his left hand freeing my breast from the white fabric, cupping it gently and then tweaking the nipple. ‘You’re getting the hang of it now.’ He kissed me on the lips, more ardently this time, and then stopped, his fingers still inside me, but completely still, skewering me as I sat motionless atop him. ‘When did you last bleed?’ he asked, looking at me hungrily.
