Introduction

In the manor of the De Conteville family in the rural West Country, lived Baron Phillip de Conteville, a young man who had inherited his father’s fortune and the family estate. In local villages, De Conteville was rumoured to be frittering away his inheritance on lavish parties and dissolute habits. Early one summer morning in 1804, the baron’s footman heard a knock at the oak door of the manor, and opened it to discover standing on the doorstep a woman from the local village in a worn and patched cotton dress, her hands clasped awkwardly in front of her. Her red curly hair fell to her shoulders, covering part of her face, which she seemed to be trying to force into a polite smile, despite her obvious nervousness. The footman recognized her as Geraldine, the daughter of a poor farm labourer in the village. She and her older brother had grown up tiny one room cottage on Burbage’s farm, and, as everyone in the village knew, after her brother left to seek work in the city, and her father died suddenly of a heart attack, Geraldine and her elderly mother were destitute.

“Sorry to trouble you sir, but I came to enquire if his master would be needing any help in the kitchens.”

The footman, enjoying the moment of power, looked her up and down.

“Throw up your chin a moment, so that I may catch the profile of your face better.”

She obediently lifted her chin.

“Now put your hands behind your back.”

She again acquiesced and he noted the shapeliness of her figure, and how her large breasts filled out her thin cotton dress, placing pressure on the strings that were laced and tied at the front.

“Come inside and I will speak to the master.”

A short while later, the footman came back and advised the girl that she would work as a maid for a trial month, in return for board and lodging.

The buxom Geraldine quickly caught the eye of Baron Philip, who immediately assigned her to the cleaning of his quarters and delivery of his nighttime drinks and snacks. Anxious to please the master of the house, the woman soon found herself not only cleaning and serving him, but doing so in numerous states of undress.

It began one evening when she set down his customary glass of port on the low table by the fireplace and he, looking up from his book, said “Stay a moment, wench.” She tried to curtsey and stood, holding the tray as she felt his eyes roaming over her body.

“Is there something wrong, sir?”

“Yes.” He said. “Your attire. It is too boring.” He laughed loudly and she blushed.

“What is your name, wench?”

“Geraldine, sir.”

“From now on, Geraldine, if you want to remain in my employment, you are to obey my requests whenever you are in this room, whether they concern your deportment, your attire, or how you address me. Understood?”

“Y-y-yes, Sir.”

He stood up and walked around her, then abruptly grabbed the strings that tied her dress at her chest, pulling her face up to his.

“Sir?”

She smelled the alcohol on his breath.

He began untying the strings, methodically, pulling open her dress at the top to expose her soft smooth breasts. She was shaking but did not dare move as his slender fingers began caressing her right nipple.

“From now on, Geraldine,” he smiled, “as soon as you enter my chamber, you are to unlace this…thing, and serve my drink with your tits on display, like this. Understood?”

“Y-y-yes, sir,” she stammered.

At first he seemed content with simply having her serve him with her breasts bared, but his demands soon became more elaborate. After a month, following his orders, she was entering his chamber, stripping completely naked, and crawling across the floor on her hands and knees. She was relieved to know that this would ensure her continued employment, and a little voice in the back of her head scolded her that she quite enjoyed the idea of the Baron becoming aroused simply by watching her in silence. She told herself that she was rather like a beloved pet to him; sometimes he would even stroke her red mane, as it fell across her bare shoulders. Other times, he had her remain on all fours with her buttocks facing him, feeling rather like a bitch with her privates on display. She was afraid that he might notice her wetness; how embarrassing that this humiliating treatment seemed to arouse her. But all this time, he never took benefit of the orifices he required her to present to him. After several weeks, he began removing his cock from his breeches and, commanding her to kneel in front of him, pleasured himself in front of her while she watched. After he spilled his seed on the floor, her job was to clean it up and leave the room.

Eventually, of course, he began to require her to receive his nightly ejaculations in whichever way he demanded. She was in her early 20s and not without sexual experiences, but this was most curious to her. Her amorous encounters to date had involved sneaking into a farmer’s hayloft to fumble and fuck with a boy from the village. Now she was kneeling, her bosoms on display, in front of the richest man in the region, while he stood, panting and groaning above her, moving his hand quickly up and down his thick cock. On his command, “now” she cupped her hands in front of her, as if she were about to receive communion at the local church. Instead of a piece of bread, she felt her hands filling with dollops of warm, viscous semen as the Baron moaned and his body jolted. At first she didn’t know quite what to do with it, and simply wiped it on her dress, but this created a cleaning project for her later in her bedchamber. So she began taking the precaution of arriving in his room with an extra towel, which he, of course, noticed, with a wry smile, as if it signaled her compliance.

Soon he was squirting his semen all over her bared tits. To Geraldine, these strange sexual encounters and the effects they had on her were becoming almost frustrating. Exposing herself, watching the Baron pull out his hard cock and then use her body as a sort of surface for his ejaculations was creating an odd sort of sexual tension, a stirring inside her she didn’t know what to do with. But one evening, when she asked if he might want some help reaching a climax, he scolded her. “I decide when you are to touch me, not you. Your job is to remain silent and receive in whichever manner I please. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, her face flushed with shame.

One chilly Autumn evening, she knocked on the door of his chamber, waited for the command to enter, and, while latching the heavy wooden door behind her, was surprised to discover him, sitting on the edge of a chair in front of the flickering fire by the four poster bed, his head between the legs of the visiting Lady Fitzgerald, who sat, bottom bared and spreadeagled on the edge of the bed frame, firm round tits on display over her corset,. Amid his efforts and the panting of the Lady, Baron Phillip gestured to the maid to come over, pointing to the floor beneath him.

Geraldine knew what to do, setting down the tray of hot chocolate, unbuttoning her chemise to free her ample tits, dropping the white cotton garment on the upholstered velvet cushion of a side chair and assuming the required position, kneeling on the floor beside her master’s feet. Lifting his head from the glistening cunt of Lady Fitgerald and wiping the juices from his chin, he commanded “Open your mouth, wench!” He unlaced his breeches to release his bulging cock. She obligingly opened her soft, wet lips to engulf the head of his penis, and without much of a pause, he proceeded to thrust several times into her mouth before he resumed pleasuring the greedy cunt of the Lady. He continued to alternate like this, between licking Lady Fitzgerald and thrusting into Geraldine’s open mouth. After the Lady had climaxed with a lot of squealing and panting, the Baron grabbled Geraldine’s long curly red hair and pulled her onto his cock. It did not take long for him to squirt his hot seed into the servant’s mouth, groaning as he stroked her hair.

“Now off you go,” he said, pinching her nipple with his fingers. Her mouth full of warm semen, she got up and discreetly dribbled it into the towel she had brought in with her. Again she left the Baron’s chamber feeling aroused, frustrated, and confused.

To be continued…