My Lord and Master

by Whitlock, Victoria

  She bit her lip and screwed her eyes closed tightly, willing herself to remain silent.

  Then Lord Sutherland removed his hand, leaving Angelica trembling upon the bed, waiting, yearning, and wishing he would touch her there again.

  And he did, but this time it was not his hand that pressed right against the opening to her sex, Angelica realised. No this was something much larger, much hotter.

  She sucked her lip even further into her mouth as he began to press himself firmly against her cunny, a hot thick inch slipping slowly inside her, sending a flash of pleasure and pain through her skinny body, his hands moving to her rump, gaining rough purchase on her, parting her wide as he drove a second thick inch deep inside her.

  Dear Lord! This was nothing at all like his fingers.

  This was almost too much for poor Angelica to bear. It felt as if he might split her right in two with his quivering pulsing beast.

  He grunted, his hands moving now to her breasts, his fingers quickly finding her nipples, rolling them hard between his thumbs and forefingers, tugging and pinching them, eliciting fresh shivers of pleasurable pain that flashed all through Angelica as he drove yet another inch of himself deep inside her.

  And this time it was just too much.

  She moaned. She just couldn’t help it.

  “What did I tell you, girl?” he whispered, his hands once more moving to her buttocks, pulling them wide apart, one of his thumbs now pressing against the tight little button of her arsehole. “Not a sound, do you hear me?”

  Oh, but did Angelica detect something new in his voice?

  Yes, she was sure of it!

  There was a subtle hint of tenderness in his command, too. For she suspected that his pleasure increased with her own. Yes, it seemed he did not want his commands to be so easily obeyed. And in her disobedience, perhaps she pleased him too ...

  Angelica screwed her eyes closed, feeling him drive his thumb a little further into her arse, and his cock ever deeper into her cunny, plundering her trembling body with his own, each new motion he made creating yet more need for her to moan and whimper.

  She sucked on her lip and pushed her face deep into the pillows, driving her rump back against him, as he took her hips in his hands now and began to pound her, good and hard, fucking her tight little hole, sliding himself in and out of her, her sheer wetness making it easier with each thrust.

  And as he fucked her, he seemed ever more frenzied, almost as if he were using her body now to work out some private frustration, as if he were trying to fuck away a deep anger within himself.

  Angelica could feel her pleasure building inside her, almost against her own will – after all, she knew she would not be able to stay silent if that happened – but Lord Sutherland continued to drive himself into her, harder and faster than ever before.

  And soon, sure enough, it was simply too much for Angelica to take. She let out a low, animal moan, stuffing her face into her pillows as much as she was able, as she felt her little cunny begin to spasm and splash, her hot wetness cascading down the insides of her thighs, all those whimpers and moans she’d been holding inside her now spilling from her lips, too, just as that that clear fluid was spilling from her sex.

  And behind her, she felt Lord Sutherland stiffen, slipping his manhood from her sex, and then, with a God-almighty roar, she felt him press the hot twitching tip of himself to her tender arsehole, just moments before he pulsed forth his seed in hot thick squirts, veritably flooding the crack of her bottom with his wetness, its gooey warmth dribbling between her cheeks and smothering the tender swollen lips of her sex.

  And that was how he left her: trembling on her hands and knees like an animal, her face stuffed deep into her pillows, her rump held high in the air, her sex dripping both with his fluids and hers, as – without another word – he buckled himself back up in his breeches, turned and left the bedchamber, the door slamming shut behind him.

  In her most private moments, in her tender girlish daydreams, Angelica had imagined the moment when she would lose her maidenhead. Time and time again, she had pictured the scene: the rose-petal strewn marriage bed, and her gentle suitor, stroking and caressing her, and only when the moment was right, carefully entering her, turning her once and for all from a girl into a woman.

  But never, in any of her fantasies, had Angelica imagined anything like the evening just passed; her virginity roughly taken from her, as she knelt on all fours like an animal. And never in her wildest fantasies had she ever imagined it would feel so good.

  “Are you listening, Angelica?” Mary’s voice said, puncturing Angelica’s daydream and bringing her rudely down to earth, “I said, put this on!”

  Mary held up the strange black garment, and shook it angrily.

  “I’m sorry,” said Angelica, forcing herself to concentrate on the task at hand, and not the rough animalistic pleasures of the previous evening.

  She must have passed all day in such delicious daydreams, for it was early evening once again, and even before Mary’s arrival in her bedchamber, Angelica could sense that something was happening within the house.

  All afternoon, horse-drawn carriages had begun arriving. As the first carriage had pulled up, Angelica thought that this signalled once more the arrival of Lady Reedsdale, bringing with it a confusing, heady mix of emotions – the painful jealousy of yesterday afternoon, and the exquisite pleasures of the night that followed.

  But this was not Lady Reedsdale’s carriage. It was another, much like her own Lord’s: huge, dark and imposing. And from this carriage stepped not a lady but a gentleman. And as more carriages arrived, too, they all contained not women but men – some older than Lord Sutherland, some around the same age, but none as handsome or imposing as he.

  Angelica was taken aback by the force of her emotion for Lord Sutherland. She knew it was only natural for a young woman to feel strongly for the man who relieved her of her virginity. But so much more had passed between them, too! The intimacies they were enjoying were inflaming her feelings for him in a way she did not understand and could not control.

  “Put that on?” Angelica asked Mary, holding up the flimsy black thing to examine it better. It had been so long since she had been given a garment to wear other than her now habitual cotton petticoat, that she found this new item strange and puzzling. “You mean, put it on over my dress like a pinafore?”

  But at this suggestion, Mary shook her head.

  “No, Miss Angelica,” said Mary, reddening once more. “I’m under strict instructions to see that you put that on ... and that alone. Now come on, stop fooling and take off your clothes.”

  And not for the first time, the more embarrassed Mary seemed, the more brazen and confident Angelica began to feel. For if this was at the request of Lord Sutherland – her master – then of course she would put it on. And the very fact that Mary didn’t like the idea of it, made Angelica enjoy herself even more. She felt a curious pride in her place within the house. Not to mention a growing excitement as she imagined whatever might lay before her this evening ...

  Angelica began to get undressed, her little nipples stiffening from the cool air of her bedchamber as she pulled off her dress.

  “Oh my, miss, what have you gone and done to yourself!” Mary exclaimed when Angelica pulled down her bloomers.

  “I just thought I’d tidy myself up a little,” Angelica said with a brazen smile, referring to the way she’d trimmed the patch of bright red hair that grew between her legs, hoping that this might be a nice surprise for Lord Sutherland the next time he laid eyes upon it. She’d trimmed it into a tidy rectangle, and cut the fuzz that grew around the lips of her sex right back, leaving her pretty folds fully exposed, all plump and pink.

  “I’ve heard such things were the fashion in France,” Mary murmured to herself, shaking her head, flummoxed at the sight of Angelica’s sex, “but I had not imagined seeing such a thing here in England!”

  Once she was naked, Angelica pulled on the blac
k garment which, she discovered, was a flimsy little pinafore that tied at the back around her waist and, just about , covered from her breasts down to her thighs. But even so, her bare bottom was completely exposed, and should she lean too far forward or lift her arms, then her breasts threatened to come loose too!

  “Now come down with me to the kitchen and I’ll show you what’s expected of you this evening,” Mary said, once Angelica was wearing the garment.

  “You mean, dressed like this?” Angelica asked, aghast.

  “Aye, like that,” Mary said, her matter of fact tone covering her obvious embarrassment.

  And so, just like that, the maid led Angelica out of her bedchamber and down through the maze of corridors in the house towards the kitchen. As they reached the ground floor, Angelica heard the faint murmur of male voices coming from the front of the house, and could smell the distinct musky scent of pipe and cigar smoke.

  Once they were in the kitchen, Mary showed Angelica a series of trays, full of all softs of delicious-looking hors d’oeuvres that the kitchen staff must have spent all day preparing.

  “Now your job this evening, Miss Angelica, is to take these out there,” at this Mary gestured in the direction of the front of the house. “Lord Sutherland is entertaining a few friends in the smoking room, and he wants to ... well ... show you off, if you understand me?”

  Angelica nodded.

  “Where are all the other maids?” she asked, looking around the large kitchen. Although Angelica was confined to her quarters, she knew that it was unusual for the kitchen of a house this size to be so empty.

  “They’ve all been given the evening off in recognition of their hard work preparing for this evening,” Mary explained. “And since you, my dear, have spent the day lazing around your bedroom, now is the time for you to work. Is there anything you don’t understand? For once I’ve instructed you in your duties, I too will be taking the evening off.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Angelica mumbled, feeling her heart beginning to pound as she realised with all the other maids dismissed for the evening, she was to be the only woman in the whole house, a house now full of men.

  And once again, her feelings seemed to be thoroughly mixed up and at-odds with each other. For while one part of her felt ashamed and embarrassed to be attending alone, so attired, to a large group of gentlemen, another part of her felt positively thrilled at the idea!

  What a strange creature I’m turning out to be, Angelica thought to herself.

  Then, with a deep breath, she picked up the silver tray and headed towards the smoking room ...

  “Ah, gentlemen,” Lord Sutherland said, the moment Angelica stepped into the smoking room, “I see our little serving wench for the evening has arrived!”

  Angelica felt thirteen pairs of hungry eyes latch upon her. Never had she felt more exposed than standing there in that flimsy pinafore, her bare bottom on display – still somewhat bruised from Lord Sutherland’s hand, her little nipples poking in prominent points from beneath the black fabric of her pinafore and her sex softly throbbing, the way it always did the moment she set eyes upon Lord Sutherland – especially since she’d done as he instructed and refrained from touching herself, even though she’d wanted to so many times now ...

  “Well, girl,” he shouted, “what are you waiting for? Look alive!”

  Angelica snapped to attention, hoisting her silver tray out in front of her and, as well as she was able, she proceeded to make her way around the room, offering the selection of tasty morsels up to the crowd of leering gents – all of them only with eyes for her, not the food, no matter how delicious.

  “Well isn’t she something!” one wet-mouthed old fellow with bushy silver hair growled as he took a morsel from the tray but all the while kept his eyes fixed firmly on Angelica’s pert little breasts.

  “She sure is,” chimed in his only-slightly-younger counterpart, a weasel-faced man with a long crooked nose, whose hands seemed to have a mind of their own. For Angelica had only stood near him but for a second when she felt his dirty fingers groping her bottom, sending her skittering forwards, almost spilling the contents of her tray on the carpet.

  And just like that, she proceeded around the room, serving man after man, knowing that she was the real thing on display here, not the food.

  As she reached Lord Sutherland, she felt herself relax somewhat, glad that it was he and not one of these other ugly old crones who was her Lord and master.

  “Say, Sutherland old chap,” the portly, florid fellow standing just next to Lord Sutherland bellowed, “does the hair between her legs match the hair on her head?”

  And at this remark, the whole room burst out in loud guffaws.

  “Why don’t you satisfy their, Angelica,” Lord Sutherland cut in, his voice icy cold, slicing through the noise and chatter of the room like a knife, immediately silencing it.

  It was as if the atmosphere had suddenly grown charged with a new energy, as all eyes fell upon Angelica, who felt her pretty face suffusing with heat as she shot a nervous look towards her master.

  “Really, My Lordship?” she asked, her voice no louder now than a whisper.

  “Aye,” Lord Sutherland, nodded, fixing her with his cold dark eyes. “Go on, girl. Show them. What are you waiting for?”

  Another of Lord Sutherland’s friends had stepped forward to take the silver tray from Angelica’s hands and she was left standing there, adrift, right in the middle of this circle of lecherous men, looking around them, her face burning with shame.

  And so, with trembling fingers, she took the hem of her black pinafore and raised it slowly around her belly, uncovering her pretty cunny, with its puffy pink lips and trimmed little patch of fiery red hair.

  “Good lord! What a lovely cunt!” a gruff old voice exclaimed, and to her surprise and dismay, Angelica felt herself begin to throb and tingle, even though she found most of these old men rather disgusting. Still, there did seem to be something rather arousing about being there in the centre of them, all eyes now fixed on her sex like that.

  “But that’s not all, gentlemen,” Lord Sutherland continued, “is it Angelica?”

  At this, she shot him a confused glance. What in the world was he referring to now?

  “You see, men,” he said in the same icy, measured tone as before, “little Angelica here turns into a veritable fountain when she comes. Isn’t that right, my dear?”

  Shame-faced, her eyes fixed on the floor, Angelica nodded.

  “Why don’t you show them?” he said.

  And in the cold manner with which he spoke, Angelica knew that this was no question. No, this simply was an order.

  “Go on,” he hissed. “Touch yourself.”

  So, with trembling fingers, Angelica reached between her legs, right there in the centre of all those hungry-eyed old men. And as her fingertip grazed against her tender clit, she couldn’t help but let a soft sigh escape her lips – after all, since Lord Sutherland’s strict instructions, it had been such a long time since she’d last touched herself.

  As her eyes closed in pleasure, her fingers began to work her swollen button in tight little circles, and Angelica found that her thoughts and worries all began melting away, replaced now by the intense sensations of pleasure that flooded through her.

  She could feel her sex throbbing and yearning and she could feel her nipples, too, growing so hard and tight that she just had to pinch them. So, with one hand still playing with her womanhood, she reached up and cupped her left breast with the other, pinching her hard little nipple through the fabric of her pinafore, sending further delicious sensations of pleasure rocketing right through her slender frame.

  Angelica gasped, realizing just how quickly she was reaching the point of no return now, and for a brief moment she found herself hesitating – was she really about to let herself go like that, to let herself splash in front of all these filthy old men? – but then her mind turned once more to Lord Sutherland, her strict and handsome master, and ho
w she was simply obeying his command, and why if he wanted her to do it, then who was she to argue ...

  So with a final tremble and shudder, Angelica felt the pleasure sweep through her, her tight little hole spasming and contracting, her body bucking and her knees trembling, and then, seconds later, she heard a spattering wetness falling on the wooden floorboards beneath her, and she opened her eyes to see herself squirting out her warm clear fluids all over the insides of her thighs, not to mention the shiny black boots of a gentlemen who’d leant in rather too close to get a better look.

  Still catching her breath, her face now flushed from exhaustion, Angelica quickly pulled her pinafore back down to cover herself and looked to Lord Sutherland, who, she realised with a shiver of pride, was smiling warmly at her.

  “Very good,” he said in a soft warm tone, nodding to himself. “Very good indeed.”

  “Will that be all, My Lordship?” she asked him in her sweetest tone.

  And again he nodded.

  Angelica turned and picked up the empty tray, stepping around the clear pool of fluids she had left there, right in the middle of the smoking room, all the men watching her in a silent reverie.

  She knew that they were all looking at her pretty bare bottom as she sauntered from the room, but she found she didn’t mind it, in fact, she actually rather enjoyed the sensation.

  As she headed back down the corridor to the kitchen, she felt a flush of pride at the way Lord Sutherland had looked at and spoken to her. It felt so good to please him, and she just hoped she would get another chance soon.

  She set the empty silver tray down and was about to turn to leave the kitchen when she heard the door softly open and close behind her.

  She span around, half expecting to see Lord Sutherland. But it wasn’t him. No, it was that thin, horrible-smelling weasel-faced man – the very same one who’d tried to sneak a rough grope of her arse earlier on in the parlour.

  “Why hello, pretty little missy,” he hissed, and when Angelica saw the fiendish look in his eye, she shivered again – only this time it wasn’t from pleasure, but from dread ...