Sinful Seduction (12 page)

Thomas' eyes glittered greedily. ‘Of course, my lord, that would be wonderful. Why, I'd do anything for that. Anything at all!'

‘I thought you'd say that,' purred Lord Edward. ‘Very well, you can start by locking the door.' Puzzled, but anxious to impress, Thomas hurried to do as he was told, and as Maggie watched the first tendrils of cold fear began to twine through her body.

‘Anything else, my lord?' Thomas asked eagerly.

‘Why yes, my boy,' the loathsome man chuckled. ‘You can finish what you started last night.'

For a moment Thomas stared at his master in confusion, then in horror, and then Maggie saw delighted comprehension crawl across his sly face. ‘You mean I can...?'

‘You can do whatever you like with her,' Lord Edward confirmed. ‘She won't tell anyone. She wouldn't dare.' His lip curled in contempt. ‘Not if she wants to keep her job.'

Maggie looked from one flushed face to the other, hoping to see a glimmer of mercy. But there was none. And going by the swelling at his crotch, Thomas found the idea of rogering her while his master watched enormously exciting. She began to back away. ‘Leave me alone,' she whimpered, shaking her head in denial as he advanced on her.

‘Cock-teasing little bitch,' he sneered as he fumbled at the front of his breeches, and her wide-eyed stare fixed in fascinated terror on the swollen member that sprang forth as if it had a mind of its own. ‘Thought you were too good for me, didn't you?' he spat. ‘Well, I'll teach you to turn me down.'

Maggie turned desperately to run to the door but he was too quick for her. One arm snaked round her waist and pulled her back while the other skilfully undid her buttons. Grinning, he wrenched her dress from her shoulders and down over her hips, pulling her pantaloons with it. Naked except for her black stockings she cowered away, frantically trying to cover her breasts with her hands.

‘Oh no you don't!' he snarled. Grabbing one of her wrists he jerked her back towards him, hauled her towards a chair and flung her over his knee.

‘This is for the time you kneed me in the balls,' he grated, raising his hand and bringing it down on her unprotected buttocks. The sound of flesh on flesh echoed around the room like a pistol shot and the mark of his palm rose, shockingly scarlet against the tender white flesh. Maggie squealed with pain and humiliation.

‘Bravo, my boy,' chuckled Lord Edward, and thus encouraged, Thomas raised his arm and brought his hand down again... and again and again. Maggie whimpered and squirmed in a vain attempt to escape her tormentor, legs kicking and breasts trembling with each fresh blow.

Lord Edward shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his own excitement mounting, as he feasted his eyes on the sight of the naked girl writhing helplessly. His prick rose, straining against the heavy material of his trousers, and groaning he undid the buttons and began to stroke his shaft as he watched.

Maggie's buttocks were aflame with pain now and each convulsive wriggle made her more aware of Thomas' rigid cock jabbing into her belly, and to her horror she realised that the heat of her beaten bottom was spreading to the base of her belly, transformed by some dark magic into insidious tendrils of pleasure. She felt herself moisten and moaned again, this time in despair at being betrayed by her own body.

Finished with his punishment, Thomas turned to satisfying his pleasure. He pulled Maggie's unresisting body up, spun her round until she was facing away from him, then pulled her back onto his lap. She wailed with a mixture of pain and pleasure as his rigid young cock parted the soft lips of her vulva and, forced by the natural weight of her body, speared its way inside her.

Utterly impaled she writhed helplessly, one of Thomas' hands holding her firmly round the waist as he began to thrust, the other roving freely, pinching and kneading the engorged crests of her nipples, and lingering on the swollen bud of her clitoris.

Lord Edward stared, mesmerised, a thread of saliva drooling from his lips as he played with his own prick. Maggie's legs, spread for balance, pulled apart the lips of her cunny, and he watched in fascination as Thomas' cock, glistening with her juices, slid in and out of the succulent wetness, her pert young breasts jiggling every time the footman grunted and thrust. Lord Edward grinned salaciously; this was far better than anything in the books he kept carefully under lock and key in his study.

Maggie was moaning now, her head flung back as she gave herself up to the sensations coursing through her, oblivious of everything but the thick cock that was pleasuring her. She ground herself against it, savouring every last inch, feeling it swell even further as he reached the point of no return. As the young footman exploded inside her she shrieked her release, shuddered, and then sagged back against his chest.

When Maggie drifted back to shameful reality she realised her ordeal was not yet over. Lord Edward had got to his feet and was lumbering towards her, his prick bobbing with every step. ‘My turn now,' he croaked, pulling her from Thomas' lap. She fell weakly on her knees before him, whimpering as he pushed the shiny purple head towards her lips.

‘No, please, no...' she protested, turning her head from side to side to avoid touching the disgusting thing. But it was useless. Gripping the back of her head he pulled her inexorably towards it. She gagged as it pushed against her lips, forcing them open. He moaned as it slid into the warm wetness, and it was Thomas' turn to watch in fascination as his master's thick cock, slick with Maggie's saliva, pumped in and out of her warm wet mouth, stretching her glistening pink lips.

But at least it was mercifully brief. Excited beyond endurance by what he had seen, it took only moments for the bloated pig to climax. Maggie felt the head swell to bursting point, then gagged again as he grunted, jerked his hips and his sour seed spurted against the roof of her mouth. As he released her she collapsed in a heap, the taste of her shame bitter on her tongue.

‘Cover yourself up, you cheap little slut,' ordered Lord Edward, turning towards a grinning Thomas. ‘And you too, boy.' Thomas' grin disappeared as he hastened to obey, hastily tugging on his clothes.

Once they were clothed again Lord Edward glared at them. ‘One word out of either of you about this and you'll both be out on the street,' he threatened viciously. ‘Understand?' They nodded. ‘Good,' he said, lifting his glass of brandy again. ‘Now get out of here and get back to your duties. Do you think I'm paying you good money to stand around doing nothing?'

As they hurried back about their business, Maggie couldn't bear to look at Thomas' smirking face. He would despise her now too - the same way she despised herself.

The grandfather clock in the hall chimed and Maggie listened in disbelief, closing her eyes to hold back the tears. Only half an hour had passed yet she had taken one more fateful step downwards - and who knew what other horrors were yet to come?

 

 

 

In the days that followed Maggie went through her work as if she were an automaton. Like the clockwork model of a brass band that sat on the shelf in the library, jerking into imitation life as soon as someone turned the key, she went about her tasks.

But if she was calm on the surface, underneath she was racked with helpless fear. Her heart leapt into her mouth every time Lord Edward's bell rang, and even if he only wanted tea or a brandy or a letter posted, her trepidation was only temporarily assuaged. It might be all right this time, but next time... With an effort she broke off that train of thought before it drove her mad, busying herself with needless work to fend off further terrifying speculations.

If it had not been so awful, it might have been amusing. Who would have guessed that she would long for the return of her demanding mistress almost as much as she longed for the return of her lover?

‘Post been?' she asked hopefully every morning. ‘Any more news about Lady Georgina's sister?' The letters might have been addressed to Lord Edward, but their contents were know in the servants' hall almost as soon as he'd read them.

‘Aren't you a kind-hearted lass,' smiled Mrs McAlister. ‘Thinking about that poor lady in her time of trouble.' She shook her head sadly. ‘Nothing since last week - still in her bed, the wee lamb. The doctor says she musn't put foot to floor for fear of loosing the wee one.'

‘What a shame,' said Maggie, forcing herself to smile sympathetically, but inside the bitterness welled up again. Who cared if Lady Muck lost the brat? Pampered bitch! Poor women couldn't take to their beds and be waited on hand and foot, could they? They lost children every day to poverty and disease and no one shed a tear.

Even if the child were born safely, what then? One more ‘superior' to dance attendance on. Nurses and nannies and servants pandering to their every whim so that they grew up thinking they could do what they liked with those ‘beneath' them. Even just thinking of another of Lord Edward's kind coming into the world made her sick.

‘Don't you worry, pet,' said Mrs McAlister, mistaking Maggie's scowl for an expression of concern. She patted her hand. ‘I'm sure she'll be fine.'

‘I'm sure she will be,' agreed Maggie. That sort always were.

The bell of the breakfast room jangled, making her jump so much that her spoon rattled against her plate. Her mouth went dry as all her fears rushed back.

‘Emily, go and find out what the master wants!' bawled Mrs M. ‘And take the tray with you; you can start to clear the table while you're at it.'

Maggie sagged against her chair with relief as Emily scurried off to do as she was told, and her lips twisted in self-mockery. Lord Edward would hardly be likely to want his oats at this time in the morning. She was jumping at shadows.

With that thought Maggie began to feel a bit better. It had been almost a week and there had been no further calls to ‘serve' Lord Edward. Perhaps now he had slaked his base appetites he would leave her alone? Another happy idea struck her; he was old - sixty if he was a day - and unhealthy with it. A lifetime of overindulgence in good food and strong spirits had made him fat and flabby. Men like that often lost their powers. She smiled; perhaps he'd shot his last bolt? It was a comforting thought.

But it didn't last.

‘Penny for your thoughts,' Thomas smirked from the other side of the table. ‘Bet I know what they're about, too.'

Maggie smiled sweetly back at him, then drew back her foot and kicked him under the table as hard as she could. She grinned with satisfaction as his self-satisfied smirk was replaced with an expression of shock and he let out a squawk of pain.

‘What's wrong, love?' asked Mrs McAlister in surprise.

‘Poor Thomas,' said Maggie with mock sympathy. ‘I think he bit his tongue.'

He glared at her and her smile vanished. If Lord Edward hadn't recovered from his sexual perversions, Thomas certainly had. He was even randier than he had been before. He was never done brushing up against her or surreptitiously attempting to fondle her breasts or fumble beneath her skirts when no one was looking. So far she'd been lucky, but it had taken all her skill to avoid his attentions.

‘Think you're so bleedin' smart, don't you,' he hissed, as soon as Mrs M rose to clear the table and was safely out of earshot. ‘Well you're not. I've ‘ad you once, you little cow, and by God I'll ‘ave you again. Just you see if I don't.' Mrs McAlister returned and he had to content himself with one last glare before he subsided into a resentful silence.

Maggie bit her lip; perhaps she had goaded him too far? But then she brightened again; so what? She'd avoided him before, she could do it again.

Oh, but she was so wrong.

 

It was her own fault. When several more days passed without a summons from Lord Edward she relaxed her constant vigil. As she headed for the linen cupboard with an armful of freshly washed sheets, the only thought in her head was what to wear and where to go on her next afternoon off. Humming, she bumped open the door with her hip, walked in and began to lay them away on the shelves.

Then the sound of the door closing made her spin round. Thomas was leaning against it, grinning at her wolfishly.

‘Wh-what do you want?' she stammered - though the bulge in his breeches made his intentions all too clear. ‘Get out of my way,' she snapped, but with less conviction than she'd hoped for. ‘I've got work to do. You ain't the master, you can't make me do anything I don't want to.'

Instead of obeying, he licked his lips and slowly rubbed his swelling cock through the thin material. ‘Garn! All that hoity-toity talk doesn't fool me,' he said hoarsely. ‘Pretending you're little miss priss when you can't get enough of it.' He smirked and thrust his hips at her obscenely. ‘And I'm just the boy to give it to you. So get your drawers down, gel. It's your lucky day. I'm going to fuck you into the middle of next week.'

Shaking her head, Maggie backed away until she was pressed against the shelves. She looked round wildly, but he was between her and the door. There was no way out. She bared her teeth at him like a cornered rat. ‘You keep away from me, Thomas Higgins,' she warned. ‘Lay one finger on me and you'll regret it.'