Intimacy
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Goodness class can be a terrible thing. Don't ever say that it doesn't distort things! There came the
evening when he would introduce Carla to Mama and Pater. He would introduce her and Williams would
wait on. They would just have to get on with it.
'You look.....absolutely stunning Miss' I admitted.
I stared at my wife Carla. She wore her ash blonde hair up, and her long and appealing neck was accented with a black velvet choker from which dangled the expensive diamond pendant that
Marcus had bought her. On her right wrist was a diamond bracelet, extravagent and light catching. It seemed to trap everything around her, eyes, reflections, highlights. On her left wrist
was a Chaumet dress watch that sparkled just as much. There was an extravagent cocktail ring on
the finger where her wedding ring used to sit. Carla wore a perfectly coutoured black dress, that fell in sweeping fabric from her feminine hips. Beneath her dress hem her elegant sandals peeped. I tried not to stare at her but that was impossible. Her makeup was perfect. She wore a new perfume, something that Marcus had made up for her by someone in Paris. She looked absolutely hypnotic.
'Thank you' she said quickly. But I could tell that she was nervous. She was very nervous.
Tonight she was meeting Marcus's parents. There is money in Britain, lots of it. Some of it is new money and that, well it doesn't bear the same stature as that which has been graced in the accounts of the older, the established families. Marcus came from the old money world of albion, the world
where impressions were very important. So far, the tests had been passed. Carla and Marcus had gone hunting with the country set. I had watched my wife dressed in the designer jodphurs and hacking jacket, mounting her mare. The hounds had chorused and I collected together the stirrup
cups that they had drank from. I was, to all intents and purposes simply Marcus's man. I drove
them to the meet n his Landrover Discovery and set up the refreshments at the agreed meet point
that luncheon. Carla ignored me. She seemed to find it easy. What was more important was that
the others ignored me. I was just a servant.
Tonight though was different. God it was different! Richard and Margaret knew that Marcus was
dating a married woman. They knew that she was the heart's desire for their son. The question was
given that Marcus stood to inherit their very large house and estate in Northamptonshire, whether
they would approve. For sure Carla has poise, she has a presence. She is well bred and went to a
very good private school before going up to Cambridge. But they might reject her. They would certainlyinsist that she divorce me before nuptials with Marcus could be condoned. Dear God, right now it seemed inconceivable that they would allow Marcus to keep me on, as their manservant.
That would not be understood. How could any man of spirit beg for crumbs in this manner, to remain at their table, like a dog waiting for scraps.
Two days earlier I had served Marcus and his lady afternoon tea in the drawing from of their large
townhouse and my master insisted that I wait as he had points to make about the forthcoming
supper.
'I'm afraid that the dinner night is the watershed Williams' Marcus said, he always addressed me by
my surname alone. 'Your mistress wants to keep you on, and I would say as well that you have
been a very biddable servant. But whatever we enjoy about keeping you, that can't stand in the
way of the family, and having Carla join us.' He fixed me with a look. I bowed my head to him.
'Mistress will divorce you. We will persevere with Mama as regards keeping you on afterwards, but
if it is the inheritence and the estate in Northamptonshire versus keeping you around, you will be
sent away.'
I bowed my head to him again. it would be trite to speak, on what was after all an instruction. Carla
had sat crossed legged in her jeans and watched me. It seemed such a stark moment. She had met
Marcus and gravitated to the society that she should really keep and i had been left behind like a
forlorn figure waving at a 1950s railway station. She proferred her fine bone china cup and saucer up, signalling that I should pour more tea. I did so without daring to look her in the eyes. It wasn't tha master told me not to look my wife, my mistress, in the face. It was that if I did my demeanour might crumble. I wanted her so much!
'You will attend us, serving supper Williams, and I won't have you scurrying away to hide in the kitchen just in case Mama or Pater say some nasty things. You will have to get used to this. If we keep you on, then others will inevitably know, at some stage, that Mistress discarded you as wha you were before.'
'Of course Sir' I said with another of my by now practised bows.
'You accept that Carla is your mistress...that she wouldn't ever deign to consider you... (he coughed discreetly) a man again?' Marcus's eyes narrowed. I was being interrogated.
'I do sir' I indicated quietly.
'Confirm it to Carla then!' Marcus insisted.
There then, those couple of days ago, I caught her glance just for a second. She awaited my response, Marcus's arm around her shoulders on the sofa.
'You are my mistress' I said evenly, 'you will always be my mistress. I know my station.'
'Good Williams' she said sofly, and then kissed Marcus. 'That will be all for now.'
Now, back in the bedroom where I have just taken her up the bracelet that she now wears, Carla, my mistress looks regal.
'I expect you to behave yourself this evening Williams. You MUST be impeccable. Mama and Pater know who you are, they know what you are. They will watch you. They will follow you, your every facial expression, your every response, the very posture of your body.' Carla's eyes sought mine
and now I was not allowed to look down. 'If you spoil things for Marcus and I, then you will be
forced out of this house tonight. You will go and have to start again, on the streets.'
'Mistress I will do as I am bid. I worship you. I need this to work for you both,
my sanity, my very existence depends upon it.' I whispered the words and bowed again. It might
have seemed melodramatic to you, but it wasn't. I couldn't bear to be apart from my mistress. In what ever capacity.
It is hideous. I know that you think it so. You can barely credit what I am. To submit, to beg, is
to disgrace yourself. But I have need of it. I have no other identity. Whilst for Carla's part it seems odd, there is a piquant pleasure. When they first met, as they first fell in love, there was a personal pleasure in vanquishing. My master said that I might stay on, just as long as I never pretended to be a husband, ever again.
'Alright then Williams,' she observed, 'you had better run along to the kitchen, check that all is
well with cook and then come back to the hall to serve drinks when Mama and Pater arrive.'
'yes Miss!'
As I run down the stairs into the basement kitchen, I would have you ponder these matters. If you loved a woman so much that her success, her happiness, was more important to you than anything else in the world, would you not stoop as low as I? I arrived in the kitchen breathless. Have you thought? Have you at least found some crumb of empathy for me? I am terrified. I am absolutely terrified that I will somehow, unwittingly, damage her happness. It seems to me as fragile as a Faberge egg held aloft by me as I skate about on unsafe ice.
Mrs Whicker tells me not to fuss! She has presented a dozen such suppers for Master and his new Mistress in the past few months. The courses are all on schedule and had i but half the nous she
had I would not need to fret and perspire so! I mop my brow with a handkerchief and return
upstairs dressed in my butler attire. My master is dressed for dinner too. He eyes me.
'I've warned him' my mistress said and kissed his cheek. 'If he fails, dismiss him darling, it is
straightforward, i promise you.'
Th door bell rings. My heart leaps. It is as if the starter gun has fired and my heart as set off early, pounding down the track. For a moment I fear that I might not be able to breath. I get the door, opening the highly polished oak to a couple somewhere in their early sixties. He is ex military
as well as gentry. He has an air of authority about him. His wife is shorter, but gimlet eyed. She casts a gaze over me like a mine sweeper might.
'Good evening your lordship, good evening M'am' I address them with the brief bow of my head. I have been told not to seem obsequious, this is not a melodrama. I wait whilst master greets his parents, 'Mama! Richard, you look very well!' They embrace. My mistress waits behind Marcus. She MUST be terrified. They emerge from the hugs and Mama Margaret turns her gaze first to Marcus's extremely elegant woman.
'Good evening! ' Carla greets her, the voice rising. She has spirit!
'Carla, hello! Call me Margaret please, and this is Richard! I find it hard to stop Marcus talking
about you! You look so beautiful in that dress.'
Mama glances at her husband, who admires my mistress in the dress as well. He kisses Carla on both cheeks.
'Williams, coats please' Carla insists.
I take the coats, hang them carefully in the walk in rainwear room and return to lift the tray of drinks for their attention. Mama first, then of course my mistress, then Pater and finally my master. The older woman stares at me. I am a curiosity. I am something discovered at a zoo. I have been glimpsed pacing behind bars. Mama has a look of distaste on her face. i know it, i know, she
simply cannot understand why Carla would keep on a beaten male in this role.
'I hear you were at Cambridge!' Richard said, beaming. His eyes surveyed my Mistress, glanced at
me. It was as if we were two different species. He cannot hide that look. He thinks me bizarre. It
is as if the couple have chosen a mongrel from Battersea Dogs Home instead of something with
a kennel club pedigree.
'I read classics!' my mistress tells him taking him by the hand and leading him through to the
lounge where I have set out canapes. 'I think daddy served with you in the Blues and Royals?' They laugh, of course. Richard remembers Sebastian, but they lost touch when Richard took up the staff job and then, well, it was the Ministry etc. I try not to stare. But i can breath again. Richard likes her. She is well bred. If she is not exactly from landed stock then she is from a 'good' family. I
watch her seat herself on the sofa beside the man. Her Chaumet watch slips down her arm, she giggles and listens to the older man' s stories of military service. He will become her father in law. i know it. I know it. He has decided that she has poise, she has attitude. He likes the way that she called me Williams. My mistress is adorable.
Canapes passed without incident save that Mama checked my appearance regularly. It seemed that i was a bone left in a dish of wild salmon. It would have been easier had I NOT been there. But Marcus had insisted on the matter. He wanted to show his parents. Mama could stand it no longer and she caught my mistress's eye.
'He means nothing to you any more Carla dear?' she asked. The woman looked at me as if I might loose it and react in some way. I stared into space. I stared resolutely.
'Margaret...(Carla paused for effect, she did not look my way), I made a frightful mistake. I was
very young and wondering what to do after Cambridge. Williams understands that.'
I get inspected again by Mama. She is relaxing about talking about me, present or otherwise.
'What is he, an accountant for something?'
My Mistress looked at me. I have held station. I WILL NOT LET HER DOWN.
'He's our servant now. He wants to be our servant' she answered lightly. It wasn't a reposte. it was simply an affirmation of identity. But my mistress was eager to make sure that all was well. ' I am divorcing him, and if you consider it not too indelicate, we would like to retain him as our servant. But we will be guided by you. Manners are important. We have friends who approve. Williams has been well accepted.'
I shook. Mama thought it unnusual, modern, but if friends had accepted the arrangement?
Cook caught my eye from the hall. It was time for dinner.
I attended them, four courses and wines to match. It became, a convivial matter. A string quartet had been engaged to play and they added a baroque charm to the conversation about the highly polished table. I trembled and served as best I could. Mama was watching me. As I came to serve her a sorbet, she had me bend so that she could whisper in my ear. She astonished me.
'I believe that your mistress is disgusted by you' she said calmly, levelly, as if she was simply requesting a change of spoon. I waited with the sorbet on the silver tray. I couldn't answer that.
'But i believe too that she feels guilt. You are the mistake.' she paused for effect. My legs trembled. I felt terrified by the old woman's verbal assault. 'If your mistress dismisses you, you will go quietly I trust and make no tittle tattle with the journalists?'
I glanced at her. My mistress was watching me intensely. As the men chatted, the women
scrutinized me. I whispered as quietly as I could.
'I will do as my mistress bids M'am. She is my mistress.' I got the words out dry mouthed. i got them out just.
The woman grunted beneath her breath. 'She should never have considered you. You are clearly
not her equal!'
'I am not M'am.'
'If you were cast into the gutter man?!' Now Mama's eyes are wide.
'Yes M'am' I answer. I wanted to shout at her. I couldn't shout at her. She was testing me.
To his credit my master's father did not interrogate me. He watched and he commented. 'It's like having a fag from school, what?!' Marcus laughed, 'quite!'. 'Bit like a batman, he do everything for you sharp and quick?' Marcus nodded. I sensed the growing approval. The working types, the
lower ranks often knew their place and it give them some security, serving, under firm direction and
all would be fine. I listened, my ears red. I listened feeling ashamed of myself.
Somehow, yes somehow, i made it through the evening. I helped the guests on with their coats whilst my master and mistress beamed at them.
'Fine supper Marcus and Carla, you my lady are simply delightful!' Richard said. His sixty year old face was lit up with pleasure. It had after all, been a 'stonkingly good port'. I watched him wave at me and i nodded a bow, thinking thank god for him. He liked Carla, and I, well if I bemused him, then 'the pleasure of command and what not!'
Mama came to my side as the others talked about the next race meeting they might join up
together for.
'I don't like you Williams,' she murmured softly, ' you are a stain on a well bred woman's skirts. You are throughly unsuitable for Carla and the fact that you were ever her husband disgusts me. She is
so well bred.' She paused to let the pain work through my soul. 'Carla and I will became the best of friends I assure you. I can also assure you that I will have her remove you in time, you nasty little memory.'
I blushed. I couldn't hide a blush. My heart sank.
'Good evening M'am' i said politely.
She looked at me, searching for a sign of insolence. There was none. I made sure of that.
The door closed. I watched my mistress and master look at one another. Mistress laughed. She laughed and master went to her laughing too. He swept her into his arms and kissed her slowly. I have never been able to concel my ache when I watch this happening. It cuts me in the heart.
'They loved you!' Marcus said.
He kissed her again.
My heart sang. My heart soared. You cannot imagine.
'I thought so...fancy Richard and daddy serving together in the cavalry at one point!' My mistress's face was alight with pleasure. Master smiled back at her.
'I'll just have Williams hang my clothes, change into a silk wrap and then shall we have a brandy in front of the fire?' she suggested.
He nodded.
I followed my mistress upstairs and to the master bedroom. I waited silently as she removed the choker and the bracelet. I ran the zip of the dress down for her and collected it from the floor as she stepped out of it. I was ordered to unhook her basque as well and take her slik panties down. She was to rest naked in the wrap against Marcus. Naked, save for the watch, her earrings, she looked emasculating. She took my manhood and crushed it, just with beauty. I longed for her to say something, to confirm that I had not displeased. I was kneeling on the floor gathering up her
basque and panties. Carla looked down at me.
'No' she said firmly. I was staring at her bare sex. Sometimes, just sometimes, after Marcus had taken her, she liked me to caress her there, with my mouth. Tonight, they would make love, Marcus taking her, causing her to cleve to him, her back arching her throat open as she moaned.
'We will have to see,' she announced as if I knew immediately what she was thinking, 'Richard likes you. He likes how pliable you are. But Mama thinks that you are disgusting, so I might have to get rid of you completely. Is that understood Williams?' how brusque she sounded. My stomach
knotted.
'Yes Miss' I said humbly.
'Now you may lick then....as long as that is understood'.
She waited. I was to ponder oblivion and then heaven in a moment. I licked and I prayed.
Lutheran Maid
'You look.....absolutely stunning Miss' I admitted.
I stared at my wife Carla. She wore her ash blonde hair up, and her long and appealing neck was accented with a black velvet choker from which dangled the expensive diamond pendant that
Marcus had bought her. On her right wrist was a diamond bracelet, extravagent and light catching. It seemed to trap everything around her, eyes, reflections, highlights. On her left wrist
was a Chaumet dress watch that sparkled just as much. There was an extravagent cocktail ring on
the finger where her wedding ring used to sit. Carla wore a perfectly coutoured black dress, that fell in sweeping fabric from her feminine hips. Beneath her dress hem her elegant sandals peeped. I tried not to stare at her but that was impossible. Her makeup was perfect. She wore a new perfume, something that Marcus had made up for her by someone in Paris. She looked absolutely hypnotic.
'Thank you' she said quickly. But I could tell that she was nervous. She was very nervous.
Tonight she was meeting Marcus's parents. There is money in Britain, lots of it. Some of it is new money and that, well it doesn't bear the same stature as that which has been graced in the accounts of the older, the established families. Marcus came from the old money world of albion, the world
where impressions were very important. So far, the tests had been passed. Carla and Marcus had gone hunting with the country set. I had watched my wife dressed in the designer jodphurs and hacking jacket, mounting her mare. The hounds had chorused and I collected together the stirrup
cups that they had drank from. I was, to all intents and purposes simply Marcus's man. I drove
them to the meet n his Landrover Discovery and set up the refreshments at the agreed meet point
that luncheon. Carla ignored me. She seemed to find it easy. What was more important was that
the others ignored me. I was just a servant.
Tonight though was different. God it was different! Richard and Margaret knew that Marcus was
dating a married woman. They knew that she was the heart's desire for their son. The question was
given that Marcus stood to inherit their very large house and estate in Northamptonshire, whether
they would approve. For sure Carla has poise, she has a presence. She is well bred and went to a
very good private school before going up to Cambridge. But they might reject her. They would certainlyinsist that she divorce me before nuptials with Marcus could be condoned. Dear God, right now it seemed inconceivable that they would allow Marcus to keep me on, as their manservant.
That would not be understood. How could any man of spirit beg for crumbs in this manner, to remain at their table, like a dog waiting for scraps.
Two days earlier I had served Marcus and his lady afternoon tea in the drawing from of their large
townhouse and my master insisted that I wait as he had points to make about the forthcoming
supper.
'I'm afraid that the dinner night is the watershed Williams' Marcus said, he always addressed me by
my surname alone. 'Your mistress wants to keep you on, and I would say as well that you have
been a very biddable servant. But whatever we enjoy about keeping you, that can't stand in the
way of the family, and having Carla join us.' He fixed me with a look. I bowed my head to him.
'Mistress will divorce you. We will persevere with Mama as regards keeping you on afterwards, but
if it is the inheritence and the estate in Northamptonshire versus keeping you around, you will be
sent away.'
I bowed my head to him again. it would be trite to speak, on what was after all an instruction. Carla
had sat crossed legged in her jeans and watched me. It seemed such a stark moment. She had met
Marcus and gravitated to the society that she should really keep and i had been left behind like a
forlorn figure waving at a 1950s railway station. She proferred her fine bone china cup and saucer up, signalling that I should pour more tea. I did so without daring to look her in the eyes. It wasn't tha master told me not to look my wife, my mistress, in the face. It was that if I did my demeanour might crumble. I wanted her so much!
'You will attend us, serving supper Williams, and I won't have you scurrying away to hide in the kitchen just in case Mama or Pater say some nasty things. You will have to get used to this. If we keep you on, then others will inevitably know, at some stage, that Mistress discarded you as wha you were before.'
'Of course Sir' I said with another of my by now practised bows.
'You accept that Carla is your mistress...that she wouldn't ever deign to consider you... (he coughed discreetly) a man again?' Marcus's eyes narrowed. I was being interrogated.
'I do sir' I indicated quietly.
'Confirm it to Carla then!' Marcus insisted.
There then, those couple of days ago, I caught her glance just for a second. She awaited my response, Marcus's arm around her shoulders on the sofa.
'You are my mistress' I said evenly, 'you will always be my mistress. I know my station.'
'Good Williams' she said sofly, and then kissed Marcus. 'That will be all for now.'
Now, back in the bedroom where I have just taken her up the bracelet that she now wears, Carla, my mistress looks regal.
'I expect you to behave yourself this evening Williams. You MUST be impeccable. Mama and Pater know who you are, they know what you are. They will watch you. They will follow you, your every facial expression, your every response, the very posture of your body.' Carla's eyes sought mine
and now I was not allowed to look down. 'If you spoil things for Marcus and I, then you will be
forced out of this house tonight. You will go and have to start again, on the streets.'
'Mistress I will do as I am bid. I worship you. I need this to work for you both,
my sanity, my very existence depends upon it.' I whispered the words and bowed again. It might
have seemed melodramatic to you, but it wasn't. I couldn't bear to be apart from my mistress. In what ever capacity.
It is hideous. I know that you think it so. You can barely credit what I am. To submit, to beg, is
to disgrace yourself. But I have need of it. I have no other identity. Whilst for Carla's part it seems odd, there is a piquant pleasure. When they first met, as they first fell in love, there was a personal pleasure in vanquishing. My master said that I might stay on, just as long as I never pretended to be a husband, ever again.
'Alright then Williams,' she observed, 'you had better run along to the kitchen, check that all is
well with cook and then come back to the hall to serve drinks when Mama and Pater arrive.'
'yes Miss!'
As I run down the stairs into the basement kitchen, I would have you ponder these matters. If you loved a woman so much that her success, her happiness, was more important to you than anything else in the world, would you not stoop as low as I? I arrived in the kitchen breathless. Have you thought? Have you at least found some crumb of empathy for me? I am terrified. I am absolutely terrified that I will somehow, unwittingly, damage her happness. It seems to me as fragile as a Faberge egg held aloft by me as I skate about on unsafe ice.
Mrs Whicker tells me not to fuss! She has presented a dozen such suppers for Master and his new Mistress in the past few months. The courses are all on schedule and had i but half the nous she
had I would not need to fret and perspire so! I mop my brow with a handkerchief and return
upstairs dressed in my butler attire. My master is dressed for dinner too. He eyes me.
'I've warned him' my mistress said and kissed his cheek. 'If he fails, dismiss him darling, it is
straightforward, i promise you.'
Th door bell rings. My heart leaps. It is as if the starter gun has fired and my heart as set off early, pounding down the track. For a moment I fear that I might not be able to breath. I get the door, opening the highly polished oak to a couple somewhere in their early sixties. He is ex military
as well as gentry. He has an air of authority about him. His wife is shorter, but gimlet eyed. She casts a gaze over me like a mine sweeper might.
'Good evening your lordship, good evening M'am' I address them with the brief bow of my head. I have been told not to seem obsequious, this is not a melodrama. I wait whilst master greets his parents, 'Mama! Richard, you look very well!' They embrace. My mistress waits behind Marcus. She MUST be terrified. They emerge from the hugs and Mama Margaret turns her gaze first to Marcus's extremely elegant woman.
'Good evening! ' Carla greets her, the voice rising. She has spirit!
'Carla, hello! Call me Margaret please, and this is Richard! I find it hard to stop Marcus talking
about you! You look so beautiful in that dress.'
Mama glances at her husband, who admires my mistress in the dress as well. He kisses Carla on both cheeks.
'Williams, coats please' Carla insists.
I take the coats, hang them carefully in the walk in rainwear room and return to lift the tray of drinks for their attention. Mama first, then of course my mistress, then Pater and finally my master. The older woman stares at me. I am a curiosity. I am something discovered at a zoo. I have been glimpsed pacing behind bars. Mama has a look of distaste on her face. i know it, i know, she
simply cannot understand why Carla would keep on a beaten male in this role.
'I hear you were at Cambridge!' Richard said, beaming. His eyes surveyed my Mistress, glanced at
me. It was as if we were two different species. He cannot hide that look. He thinks me bizarre. It
is as if the couple have chosen a mongrel from Battersea Dogs Home instead of something with
a kennel club pedigree.
'I read classics!' my mistress tells him taking him by the hand and leading him through to the
lounge where I have set out canapes. 'I think daddy served with you in the Blues and Royals?' They laugh, of course. Richard remembers Sebastian, but they lost touch when Richard took up the staff job and then, well, it was the Ministry etc. I try not to stare. But i can breath again. Richard likes her. She is well bred. If she is not exactly from landed stock then she is from a 'good' family. I
watch her seat herself on the sofa beside the man. Her Chaumet watch slips down her arm, she giggles and listens to the older man' s stories of military service. He will become her father in law. i know it. I know it. He has decided that she has poise, she has attitude. He likes the way that she called me Williams. My mistress is adorable.
Canapes passed without incident save that Mama checked my appearance regularly. It seemed that i was a bone left in a dish of wild salmon. It would have been easier had I NOT been there. But Marcus had insisted on the matter. He wanted to show his parents. Mama could stand it no longer and she caught my mistress's eye.
'He means nothing to you any more Carla dear?' she asked. The woman looked at me as if I might loose it and react in some way. I stared into space. I stared resolutely.
'Margaret...(Carla paused for effect, she did not look my way), I made a frightful mistake. I was
very young and wondering what to do after Cambridge. Williams understands that.'
I get inspected again by Mama. She is relaxing about talking about me, present or otherwise.
'What is he, an accountant for something?'
My Mistress looked at me. I have held station. I WILL NOT LET HER DOWN.
'He's our servant now. He wants to be our servant' she answered lightly. It wasn't a reposte. it was simply an affirmation of identity. But my mistress was eager to make sure that all was well. ' I am divorcing him, and if you consider it not too indelicate, we would like to retain him as our servant. But we will be guided by you. Manners are important. We have friends who approve. Williams has been well accepted.'
I shook. Mama thought it unnusual, modern, but if friends had accepted the arrangement?
Cook caught my eye from the hall. It was time for dinner.
I attended them, four courses and wines to match. It became, a convivial matter. A string quartet had been engaged to play and they added a baroque charm to the conversation about the highly polished table. I trembled and served as best I could. Mama was watching me. As I came to serve her a sorbet, she had me bend so that she could whisper in my ear. She astonished me.
'I believe that your mistress is disgusted by you' she said calmly, levelly, as if she was simply requesting a change of spoon. I waited with the sorbet on the silver tray. I couldn't answer that.
'But i believe too that she feels guilt. You are the mistake.' she paused for effect. My legs trembled. I felt terrified by the old woman's verbal assault. 'If your mistress dismisses you, you will go quietly I trust and make no tittle tattle with the journalists?'
I glanced at her. My mistress was watching me intensely. As the men chatted, the women
scrutinized me. I whispered as quietly as I could.
'I will do as my mistress bids M'am. She is my mistress.' I got the words out dry mouthed. i got them out just.
The woman grunted beneath her breath. 'She should never have considered you. You are clearly
not her equal!'
'I am not M'am.'
'If you were cast into the gutter man?!' Now Mama's eyes are wide.
'Yes M'am' I answer. I wanted to shout at her. I couldn't shout at her. She was testing me.
To his credit my master's father did not interrogate me. He watched and he commented. 'It's like having a fag from school, what?!' Marcus laughed, 'quite!'. 'Bit like a batman, he do everything for you sharp and quick?' Marcus nodded. I sensed the growing approval. The working types, the
lower ranks often knew their place and it give them some security, serving, under firm direction and
all would be fine. I listened, my ears red. I listened feeling ashamed of myself.
Somehow, yes somehow, i made it through the evening. I helped the guests on with their coats whilst my master and mistress beamed at them.
'Fine supper Marcus and Carla, you my lady are simply delightful!' Richard said. His sixty year old face was lit up with pleasure. It had after all, been a 'stonkingly good port'. I watched him wave at me and i nodded a bow, thinking thank god for him. He liked Carla, and I, well if I bemused him, then 'the pleasure of command and what not!'
Mama came to my side as the others talked about the next race meeting they might join up
together for.
'I don't like you Williams,' she murmured softly, ' you are a stain on a well bred woman's skirts. You are throughly unsuitable for Carla and the fact that you were ever her husband disgusts me. She is
so well bred.' She paused to let the pain work through my soul. 'Carla and I will became the best of friends I assure you. I can also assure you that I will have her remove you in time, you nasty little memory.'
I blushed. I couldn't hide a blush. My heart sank.
'Good evening M'am' i said politely.
She looked at me, searching for a sign of insolence. There was none. I made sure of that.
The door closed. I watched my mistress and master look at one another. Mistress laughed. She laughed and master went to her laughing too. He swept her into his arms and kissed her slowly. I have never been able to concel my ache when I watch this happening. It cuts me in the heart.
'They loved you!' Marcus said.
He kissed her again.
My heart sang. My heart soared. You cannot imagine.
'I thought so...fancy Richard and daddy serving together in the cavalry at one point!' My mistress's face was alight with pleasure. Master smiled back at her.
'I'll just have Williams hang my clothes, change into a silk wrap and then shall we have a brandy in front of the fire?' she suggested.
He nodded.
I followed my mistress upstairs and to the master bedroom. I waited silently as she removed the choker and the bracelet. I ran the zip of the dress down for her and collected it from the floor as she stepped out of it. I was ordered to unhook her basque as well and take her slik panties down. She was to rest naked in the wrap against Marcus. Naked, save for the watch, her earrings, she looked emasculating. She took my manhood and crushed it, just with beauty. I longed for her to say something, to confirm that I had not displeased. I was kneeling on the floor gathering up her
basque and panties. Carla looked down at me.
'No' she said firmly. I was staring at her bare sex. Sometimes, just sometimes, after Marcus had taken her, she liked me to caress her there, with my mouth. Tonight, they would make love, Marcus taking her, causing her to cleve to him, her back arching her throat open as she moaned.
'We will have to see,' she announced as if I knew immediately what she was thinking, 'Richard likes you. He likes how pliable you are. But Mama thinks that you are disgusting, so I might have to get rid of you completely. Is that understood Williams?' how brusque she sounded. My stomach
knotted.
'Yes Miss' I said humbly.
'Now you may lick then....as long as that is understood'.
She waited. I was to ponder oblivion and then heaven in a moment. I licked and I prayed.
Lutheran Maid
Latisha
- 20.03.2023
- 13
- 0
- Category:
- Love
