In Service to the Senses (3 page)

They pulled away slowly and he rested his forehead on hers.

“I’m going away with His Lordship in a few days,” he said heavily.

“I know. I hate it when you’re not here.”

“You’ll find a way to amuse yerself, I’m sure.”

“Anyone else is just a substitute for you.”

“I know that. I don’t mind, y’know. I like the thought of you with other men, as long as…”

“As long as what?”

“You’re the one in control with them. I’m the only one who can have you like that, understand that.”

She showered him with kisses again. “I do understand, oh God, I do, I do. I want you again, I want to feel your hand on me now.”

He chuckled and extracted her arms from round his neck. “Yer husband will be wanting me soon. There’s a new footman to appoint. I have to make sure everything’s set.”

“When then?” she pouted. “I can’t last for so long.”

“Like I said…you’ll find ways to amuse yerself. Y’can tell me all the juicy details when I get back.” And he winked and sauntered away from her.

Chapter Three

Frederick Upton, newly appointed footman, felt a little too snug in his new livery. He was proud of his new position. Foresham Hall was the pinnacle of service and he had been elevated to first footman from his previous job. Lord Atherton had a bit of a reputation but was rarely around, so it was said. Lady Atherton also had a reputation, but was easy enough on the eye for it to be worth the stinging comments and rebukes.

And now, standing as straight as he could despite the uncomfortable tightness around his groin, he was ready to meet his new mistress. She had summoned him, and he waited as she walked elegantly into the grandiose hall towards him.

The rumours were right. She was fucking beautiful. Frederick swallowed hard and averted his eyes.

“Are you the new footman?” came her cool enquiry.

“I am, my lady.”

“You are to address me as Lady Atherton in the first instance.”

“Beggin’ yer pardon, Lady Athert…umm…my Lady…Atherton.” He smiled awkwardly.

Lady Atherton gave a little grin and paced across to her new footman. She cast her blue eyes slowly over him, lingering over his shoulders and torso. Her gaze came to rest on his tie. She tutted.

“What is your name?”

“Frederick, my lady.”

“Your collar is not correctly aligned, Frederick.”

His hands instinctively darted to it.

“No. Hands down.” Even if she had not been the lady of the house, he knew better than to argue with a tone like that.

Reaching up, Lady Atherton placed long pale fingers on his collar and tweaked it into place. She finished with a deliberate press of her hand against it in finality. “There.” He swallowed hard, drawing her eye to the lurch of his Adam’s apple along his neck. Her hand, still at his collar, lingered and she drew it down, slowly, pressing each fingertip through his pristine new uniform onto solid flesh. Oh, he liked that. His cock stirred.

Isabella took a step closer, and her hand grazed the tautness of his stomach, down, down. “All better,” she murmured, heady and deliberate.

And the footman dropped his gaze and met the eyes of his mistress, just for a moment, but enough for the inevitable to be signed and sealed.

There was a cough behind them. Edward stood at the foot of the stairs—a slight knowing smile tickled his face.

“Excuse me for interrupting, Your Ladyship, but Frederick is required in the kitchens…at your convenience.”

With an intake of breath, which could have been annoyance, she stepped back. “Well, did you hear that, Frederick? You’re wanted elsewhere. Run along now, and ensure you present yourself correctly attired in future.”

“Yes, my lady.”

And he left swiftly.

Edward stood in the hallway, his gaze forward, as if he were awaiting her next move. Isabella stared at him. At length she made her way out past him.

“What do you think of the new footman…my lady?”

She stopped, wanting him, always wanting him. But she knew his game and smiled slyly. “Oh, I think he’ll do very nicely indeed.”

* * * *

Edward, due to his prior acquaintance with the new footman, had agreed to share a room with Frederick. He lay on his bed and glanced slyly at Fred in the small mirror as the new man loosened his tie and collar after his first day.

“Nice chat with Lady Atherton, was it?”

“Could’a done without you stoppin’ in just then, ya bugger.”

“She likes t’ make her new staff feel welcome, that’s all.”

“I’d like t’ feel a lot more of her, I can tell ya.”

“You may just get lucky then, Freddie, my boy.”

“What? Are you fibbin’ me?”

“No. Her Ladyship likes to get to know her new staff very closely, especially the young male ones, if you catch my drift. With a husband like hers, she needs it. Bastard treats her like filth. She’s entitled to her fun. You’ll get yer chance. Not long too, I’ll wager.”

Fred glanced across with a smirk. “Did she make you feel welcome, Eddie?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Edward stared up at the ceiling, his arm behind his head, a smile caressing his mouth between drags on his cigarette.

“She’s had you then?”

“I’ve had
her
, mate…and the rest.”

“When you first arrived?”

“Not long after. And now.”

“You still doin’ her?”

“I most certainly am.”

“Ah…she won’t want me then.”

“Yes, she will. She likes a bit of variety does the Countess of Atherton. I cater for a particular branch of her needs, but her needs are far-reaching, trust me.”

“Which branch would that be then, Ed?”

Edward tossed Fred a wink and flicked his hand through the air, accompanying it with the sound of a cracking whip.

Fred smirked. “You always were a filthy bastard, Eddie.”

“Keep the ladies happy, Fred, and the rest looks after itself.”

“So…what d’ya reckon I should do?”

“Well, with a Johnny like yours, you can’t go wrong. She’ll be lying back with her legs as wide as the Atlantic as soon as you whip it out. And don’t go easy on her. She won’t thank you for that. She likes it hard and fast, does our Is.”

“
Is?
Fuck, Eddie. Do ya call her that t’ her face?”

“I call her all sorts to her face, mate. I’m off with His Cockship tomorrow—then’s yer chance. Not that yer’ll have t’ do anything. She’ll send for you, I guarantee it. You make her come good and true and you’ll be butler before you know it.”

“You’re not butler.”

Edward turned his eyes on Fred and there was a cold silence, but soon enough his smirk returned. “Me? You think I want to be stuck ‘ere noddin’ and scrapin’ all m’ life? I’m off as soon as I can—the future’s bright, mate.”

“You’d have to leave her.”

Edward didn’t answer. His eyes remained open and he stared above him, taking a last pull on his cigarette and stubbing it out before turning over and blowing out the candle.

“G’night, Freddie boy. Tomorrow’s yer day for the takin’.”

* * * *

The call came after lunch. Fred was just finishing putting away the plate when Mr Brewer tapped him on the shoulder. “Her Ladyship wishes to see you in the drawing room. You are excused your duties this afternoon.”

“Mr Brewer?” Fred was surprised by the apparent awareness of the butler.

Brewer merely jerked his head back to hasten Fred. He nodded and headed for the door.

“Go carefully, son,” Brewer called after him. “You’re not the first footman to be ‘summoned’ by Her Ladyship.”

Brewer turned, his face set stern, then left. Frederick felt a sudden pattering of nerves, not something he was used to with a woman. He flustered about with the last of the plates, straightened his livery then hurried to the drawing room. He knocked. A lady’s voice bade him enter. He pushed open the door and went in. Lady Atherton was sitting facing away from him, writing at her desk. She didn’t look up. After a while, he cleared his throat and, at last, she turned towards him.

“Frederick. Close the door.” He did. “How is your work progressing?”

“Well, Lady Atherton, thank you.”

“And you’ve settled in?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“With whom are you rooming?”

“With Edward, my lady. He kindly let me share his room.”

“Did he? Unusual for a valet to share with a footman.”

“We go back a long way, my lady.”

“So I’ve heard,” she purred. “Edward is not here today. He is accompanying my husband to Pembroke Hall.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“I get terribly lonely when he is not here.”

“It’s understandable for a wife to miss her husband, my lady.”

“I wasn’t referring to my husband,” she stated with stark factuality. “Are you wondering why I’ve summoned you?”

“I haven’t thought about it, my lady.”

“Oh?” She stood and walked slowly towards him. “I should think you have. Do you not speak to Edward?”

“Of course, my lady.”

“Then I should suspect you know exactly why you are here.”

She was circling him now, casting her gaze over his elegant form, clad impeccably in the livery she herself had selected for her footmen. Then she brought up her hand and ran her fingers idly along his shoulder. “Your livery suits you, Frederick, and I am very pleased to see you have worn it correctly today.”

“Yes, my lady.” He dared turn to look at her as she continued her progress around him.

“Do you find it comfortable?”

“Yes, my lady,” he lied.

She was now smoothing her hand down his abdomen, curling it around towards his hips. “Not too tight?”

“Not unduly, my lady.”

“What? Are you implying some parts of it are a little snug?” The word dropped tantalisingly off her tongue. Fred felt both his confidence and his cock raising their heads. He decided to play along.

“Perhaps in one area, my lady.”

“Oh?” Her hand came to rest in that one area and she cupped the heavy contents of his breeches in her palm. Her eyes widened as she felt its full potential. “Yes…I must say…the trousers are fitted for the average man. You, Frederick, are clearly not the average man.”

“So I’ve been told, my lady.” He let his voice lilt conspiratorially.

She was undoing the placket and slipping her fingers inside. Frederick swallowed hard and let her ply him assuredly.

Isabella could not tear her eyes away from the sight before her. He was certainly not the average man. What was stirring in her palm now rose up so thick and long, even she was impressed. She spat into her fingers and started to work him, then curled her hand around his considerable girth and pumped, letting her thumb stroke over the slit. She grinned up as his eyes closed and his Adam’s apple bobbed.

“My lady…”

“Yes?”

“That feels…”

“What?”

“Fuckin’ incredible.”

“Language, Frederick.”

“Excuse me, my lady.”

Isabella could tell he was nearly there. She could barely close her fingers around his stupendous cock, but she was bringing him quickly to a climax with her hand, she knew that. She was, after all, well-practised in the art.

Then, just as his breath hitched at the approach of orgasm she withdrew her hand and stepped away. “I don’t want you making a mess of my clothes and the rug. It’s fifteenth-century Persian.” Frederick sagged visibly before her. His cock dripped miserably, so ready for release. It was a miracle he had held it in. “Do you know where my bedroom is?” she continued.

“Yes, my lady,” he stuttered.

“Very good. Come to my room in ten minutes. Knock four times. If there is anyone else in the corridor keep walking and return when they have gone. Do you understand?”

He nodded.

“Good. Now put it away and tidy yourself up.”

Fred glanced down. His cock was refusing to lie low. How the hell did she think he was going to put it away? Lady Isabella cocked an elegant eyebrow, curled her mouth up and swept out of the room, leaving her new footman standing with his enormous erection still jutting out defiantly from his breeches.

It took thoughts of Mrs Brodie chopping carrots to subdue his raging cock, but at length he was able to tuck himself in, just in time to hurry along to Her Ladyship’s bedroom. He passed Violet, Her Ladyship’s maid, on the way and suddenly became very interested in a portrait of the third earl hanging above the stairs.

“What you doing up here?” Violet demanded. “No need for you to be in this wing.”

“I’m here to do a job.”

“And what job would that be?” asked Violet, stepping up to him suspiciously.

“That’s for me to know and for you to put out of your pretty little head.” He smirked.

She returned the grin and fixed him with her eyes. “You’re on your way to Her Ladyship’s, aren’t you? It’s the usual story. Fine young footman, there’s only one place they ever end up—between Her Ladyship’s legs. Just don’t go making too much of a mess. Remember, it’s me who has to clean up the stains.” She laughed as she sashayed down the hall.

He smiled after her. His cock stirred again—he wouldn’t mind a go at Violet one of these days, but right now, there was someone else waiting.

Taking a deep breath, he approached the door and knocked four times.

“Come in,” murmured Lady Atherton in a silky voice.

Glancing up and down the corridor quickly, he pushed open the door and slipped inside. The room was dim. The curtains had been drawn and the grand space was illuminated only with candles, giving it a decadent and instantly heady feeling. Fred saw her immediately. Sprawled on the large four-poster bed with her left leg angled up to the side was Lady Isabella. Save for a sheer lace robe that hung like a white waterfall from her shoulders, open at the front, she was entirely naked.

When he came in, she slid her legs around and crawled down the bed towards him before sitting back on her haunches and beckoning him with a bite of her lip and a curl of her forefinger. He duly obliged. His breeches were certainly tight now.

“Frederick,” she mused as she set about undoing his buttons quickly. “I was terribly impressed with what I saw earlier. I hope you are still as ardent as you were then.” She glanced down and his cock lurched out, harder and larger than ever. She gave a little laugh of delight. “Ah yes, ready, willing and able, I see. My husband seems to have made a sensible decision for once. I am so glad he appointed you. Now, put that extraordinary thing of yours inside me. I’m in desperate need of a good, hard fucking.” With that she twisted nimbly around onto all fours and proffered her delicious wet quim for him, wriggling her rump in welcome.