Dirty Lady Katherine

by Alexis Shore

  Dirty Lady Katherine

  By Alexis Shore

  Published by Alexis Shore at Smashwords

  Copyright 2011 Alexis Shore

  Be warned …

  The following fifteen chapters contain scenes of a sexually explicit nature, and therefore should not be read by anyone under the age of 21.

  If you are offended by depictions of Sapphic or heterosexual sex, voyeurism, mild bondage or masturbation, perhaps you should look away now and read something else.

  Chapter One

  Lady Katherine is feeling a little horny.

  The Enter key clicked as she tapped at it, and watched the screen refresh. It was true, and the simple fact of letting everyone know it made her even more so.

  Maybe she should have omitted ‘a little’.

  She wasn’t quite a Lady, just the daughter of a Lord. But her blog took the title, and so would she one day. That much at least he had no control over. Since her mother had passed away, he’d become increasingly distant. Now he had consigned her to the cottage on the estate and barely attempted to communicate with her.

  He was more interested in bedding his latest lover.

  She rose to her feet and wafted across to the antique wardrobe. It was called the cottage, but in actuality it was an eight-bedroom country manor house, complete with a pool and three members of staff. And the stately furniture that adorned each room was worth more than the ‘cottage’ itself.

  Still, it felt pokey in comparison to the giant hall up the hill. He could fill it with his lovers for all she cared.

  Her fingers danced across the material as the hangers swung gently beneath her touch. She picked the one she wanted and tossed it over to the bed, then stepped back to the laptop.

  It was sitting on her Georgian dresser and looked completely out of place. Her status update had already garnered a response. It was from Leah. She’d been visiting her site since she started it, and her reply simply said, “Me too.”

  Katherine licked her lips. It was a nice thought.

  They’d exchanged a few emails, and had even had some very explicit typed chats on instant messenger.

  Her blog had begun with little purpose, but she quickly found it was delicious fun to describe her sexual yearnings after a particularly vivid post about an erotic dream she’d had. It bought more traffic, and the comments encouraged her to talk more and more freely about her desires and fantasies.

  And tonight, she was going to make them a little thank you gift.

  She reached around and unzipped her dress, letting it fall to her ankles before stepping out of it. She examined her slender frame in the mirror. A bit too thin perhaps, and her breasts were perky but small. Her nipples however were huge, they always were; a vibrant pink against the alabaster flesh of her boobs.

  The tuft of brown hair between her legs was neatly trimmed, and her legs descended forever. Long and slender, they often enraptured admiring eyes. She twisted round to check her bum.

  It was still there.

  She smiled at her reflection, and then tugged at her pony tail. She’d wear her long brown hair down tonight. That was rare. It had been tied back throughout her teens, and only since turning twenty had she started to let it loose.

  Her naked feet pushed into the deep carpet as she crossed to the bed. Her fingers squeezed into the black satin and rubbed it gently. It was frictionless and would feel delicious against her body. Just to make sure, she pulled it into her chest and caressed herself with it.

  Yes. Delicious.

  It danced down her torso as she let it drop over her head. The hem flicked at her bush and came to rest half way up her thighs. The satin clung to her rump gently, and she looked down to see her nipples teasing a shape through the material.

  With a flick of her hair to free it from the chemise, it was time.

  The Lady Katherine stepped to her dresser and perched gently on the Edwardian chair, bringing her hand to the mouse and clicking the button.

  A little red light told her the camera was recording.

  After a moment of stage fright, she finally managed to speak. Trying to purr softly, but scared she sounded a little silly, she said, “Hello. Here’s a little gift for you all. I hope you enjoy it.”

  Unsure if her voice sounded plummy, she settled back into the chair and framed herself properly. She rolled her shoulders and tried to get comfy. She was so self-conscious she knew that would never happen, so she just tried to seem relaxed.

  Her hand trembled as she bought it up and laid it flat against her chest. It rose and fell gently under her palm for a moment, and she licked her lips; more through nerves than arousal.

  But there was no doubt she was aroused.

  The nipples poking urgently through the satin were testament to that; unless the staff had turned the heating down again. She was a little too hot and bothered to properly gauge the temperature. Suddenly, it dawned on her that she was doing nothing, and time was ticking on. The counter running on the screen told her she’d been on camera for nearly a minute now.

  Her hand slipped down all by itself, and she felt her left nipple pressing into her hot palm. She massaged her little breast, teasing the flesh with the satin, and swallowed. Her eyelids batted over her large brown eyes, as she flicked her gaze in to the lens and let out a tiny sigh.

  The volume meter on the screen barely flickered.

  Seeking her nipple out, she pinched at it lightly, and when she rolled her tongue across her lower lip this time, there was no doubt in her mind why. Emboldened, she slipped her finger under the satin, and teased the material away from her shoulder. It dropped lightly, revealing her breast, the nipple even bigger than before.

  She moistened her finger tip and bought the saliva to the pink nub, massaging gently. She looked down at it glistening in the light, and rolled her eyes back up, staring through strands of hair at the camera. Her mouth opened.

  She didn’t want this to become gratuitous, but she definitely needed to continue. So they would know what she was doing, she lifted her knee in to shot and rested her foot on the chair. Out of frame, her chemise rode up and exposed her slit.

  Still looking down the lens, she dropped her hand between her legs and felt the warmth wafting from her sex. The flesh gave way to her middle finger as she touched it into her folds, seeking out her pearl. When she found it, a little gasped ‘ahhh’ escaped her mouth, and she stared into the camera as she circled her bud slowly.

  She was far too self-conscious to go any further though. She dropped her foot to the floor and freed her finger, bringing it up in to frame with a little wave of goodbye. The tip was coated with a fine sheen of her silky wetness, and she sucked it softly into her mouth before stopping the recording.

  Immediately, the video began compiling and she ticked the little box that told it to upload to her site upon completion.

  Now she needed to tick her own little box.

  *

  Sounds drifted in, teasing their way into the half-formed images dancing in her mind. Slowly, the extremities of her body began to make themselves known, and sleep faded into a semi-conscious trance. Her thighs ached. The scratchiness in her mouth prompted her to smack her lips, and the light rushed in as her eyes pulled open slowly. They were so dry she could hear her lashes separating.

  A lock of hair was stuck to her lip, and she flicked it away in annoyance. She blinked, attempting to get her bearings.

  She was in her bed. Or more precisely, on her bed. The quilt beneath her was dishevelled and knotted, and a pile of black satin sat in a heap by her shoulder. The cool air danced over her skin, tickling at her buttocks as she realised she was naked.

  China tinkled behind her.

  She rolled onto her back and craned
to see what had made the noise. A tray of morning tea had just been slipped on to her bedside table, and her eyes finally focussed on Sally, the maid, trying to avoid looking at her mistress’ nude figure.

  “Morning Sally,” she croaked.

  Sally said nothing. She sat up on the bed and clicked the sleep from her neck. But Katherine caught her looking at her nipples, and so was extra slow in slipping the chemise back on to her shoulders.

  “Anything else?” Sally finally asked politely.

  Katherine wiped her mouth and shook her head, then watched as she tootled away. This is why Paul had stopped serving her breakfast; she’d often fallen asleep in the afterglow of an orgasm, only to wake hours later fully on display. It was nice waking up to prying eyes, but she much preferred the gentle shock and slight arousal she saw in Sally than the half-lust, half-disgust that oozed from Paul like a cheap musk.

  Ah well, life below stairs was full of the gossip of mistress’s sexual foibles, or master’s unhealthy perversions. They were paid to be discrete, and Katherine knew they revelled in the pseudo-scandal of it all. Besides, she was relatively innocent compared to most.

  She took a sip of tea; too cold as usual. One day she would ask for it warmer, but it always slipped her mind by the time she emerged from the shower.

  The little green light flashing on her laptop caught her attention, and she smiled at the memory of what had caused her to lie back on the bed and tease herself for hours.

  It was fun recording it, but she knew she could never let go properly to an inhuman webcam lens. Ah well, maybe they had a little thrill seeing her start herself off.

  With a careless insouciance, she slipped from the bed and walked to the dresser. The screen awoke as slowly as she did after a gentle caress on the mouse pad, and she refreshed her web browser.

  Twenty comments had been posted already.

  She read through them. Some were coarse and filthy, which she didn’t mind, and some were lengthy discourses and reviews of her performance, but all were equally flattering. Leah’s was an especially good read. In fact, they had stirred her up again, and when she stepped into the shower, she spent a luxurious amount of time cleaning her clitoris.

  They all wanted more; and Katherine wanted to give them more. But she knew she couldn’t, at least not with a cold laptop and a self-conscious streak.

  Chapter Two

  Lady Katherine is aching to touch herself.

  The sitting room was bathed in a glorious afternoon light. The sun beamed in through the lead-paned windows and danced across the opulent furniture, fingering it covetously. The silver tea set glinted brightly, and Katherine could see the incessant blinking of the red light on Tom’s camera in the corner of her eye.

  She poured herself another cup. It looked too tepid to actually consume but she was trying to keep herself busy.

  This was another test session. Tom was insisting on them so she’d be more natural in front of the lens. She supposed he was right, and she knew she needed to forget it was pointing at her.

  Tom’s easy manner helped a lot, and over the week as they went through this ‘training’ he’d chatted away and relaxed her greatly. By simply following her round the house with his expensive HDCam all day, she had become so accustomed to his presence, she did sometimes forget he was filming her.

  Tom was a filmmaker.

  At least, he wanted to be. He was actually struggling to make ends meet, but this project had interested him, and not even in a lascivious way.

  He’d gone up to St Andrew’s with her when she was 18, one of the few lower middle-class chaps to have made it in. They had quickly become friends, purely platonic, but had drifted apart slowly after they both dropped out a year later.

  She’d immediately thought of him when she had the idea of having someone film to her. They were relaxed in one another’s company, to the point they had often seen each other naked, but there was no attraction. It helped that he was a brilliant cameraman too of course, and when she told him what she planned, he jumped on her and made her really think about what it was she was doing.

  Not from a moral perspective, from an artistic one. He’d read her blog of course, even commented on it, and he argued that the most alluring part of her first video was its verite; it’s truthfulness. She wasn’t acting, playing up to the camera, or faking any of her arousal. If she was going to do this, she should do it honestly, and be completely genuine and natural – hence this orientation.

  He’d just told her she was ready, and that they should make the first new video tonight.

  She was mulling it over. To be honest, she was fantasising about it; planning her outfit even down to the delicate ankle bracelet she wanted to wear.

  Tom had also insisted on some ground rules – sensible ones at that, ones that had not occurred to Katherine.

  Although Tom would be a visible presence behind the camera, her confidant almost, he said he should never join in. When he said it, Katherine automatically agreed, but later she could foresee a few hiccups. She raised them with him.

  “What if,” she said during a filming session in the garden, “I’m writhing around with a delicious little blond?”

  “Mm?”

  She knew his type, and continued with a grin, “And she sticks her bum into the air, right by your camera.” She also knew how much he liked a pert little bottom. “Are you really telling me that you could resist giving it a little squeeze?”

  She watched him thinking about it. Finally, he took a breath and declared, “Okay, I’m allowed to touch the other people.”

  That had made her laugh and she readily agreed.

  The other thing he’d insisted upon was Neil. A good-looking if incredibly geeky friend of his, who was to administer the website. Apparently video needed a lot of bandwidth and its own server to run properly, so she had written Neil a blank cheque and told him to buy what he needed.

  That’s why there was now a server room in the wine cellar.

  They agreed their fee would simply be room and board at her little cottage. With the ground rules in place, Neil had gone to work revamping Lady-Katherine.com and Tom had gone to work making Lady Katherine feel comfortable in the presence of a glass eye.

  She sat back on the chaise-longue, and looked at him. “Okay, tonight it is.”

  So used was she to seeing the camera hovering at his face, it was like a new appendage; he actually seemed odd without it. He shifted it from one hand to the other and re-framed her slightly.

  Yes, she thought, sinking back into the thickly woven upholstery, that thin silver streak dangling from her ankle would look splendid.

  She leant over and lifted the dainty bell, giving it a ring. The tea was cold and stewed; she saw no reason for it to still be here. After dropping the bell gently back on the table, she swung her long slender leg over her knee and stroked at the nylon coating.

  She felt rather than saw the camera drop slightly. She’d become used to it lingering on her flesh, and she knew he was tracing the lens up her thigh. She liked the feeling; as she liked the feeling of it being close to her face filming her lips, or hovering near her cleavage. It was starting to feel a little like a lover.

  Katherine’s tongue emerged and moistened her lower lip, though she didn’t know it. She fiddled with her hemline and made small talk with Tom as the camera explored her. Though he was concentrating on his shot, he could always converse naturally as he did so.

  The conversation tailed off as her mind drifted to thoughts of tonight.