"You Rang, Madam?" Chapter 7

by Julius
Copyright December 2007






The alarm went off. Hudson opened an eye, 07:02. He lay for a few moments, trying to decide if it had been real or a dream. He swung his feet to the floor. One foot landed on something. He bent over and picked up a plastic bottle, black, rather phallic in shape. The label read, ‘Silicone Slik’ and described the contents as personal lubricant. He grinned; he’d certainly been personally lubricated.


So it hadn’t been a dream. He slipped his hand inside his boxers; his cock was slick - Silicone Slik no doubt. He put the bottle on his bedside table; perhaps the owner would retrieve it. He would like to know who she was, which she was.






He served Sir Oliver and Madam their breakfast as usual. Sir Oliver ate quickly and, after giving Madam a peck on the cheek, he left for work.

“Hudson.”

“Yes, Madam.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“That’s wonderful news, Madam.”

“Isn’t it?” she said, “I thought you should know.”

Hudson was surprised, very surprised but he did his best to disguise the fact. One of Sir Oliver’s shy little sperm had made the journey then. He wondered if this was the moment to tell Madam about his long ago vasectomy.

“I shall miss trying to help, Madam,” he said very sincerely.


“Oh, Hudson, I hope you’ll continue with that service.” She sounded very definite. “My sister was desperately horny, all through her pregnancy. If I’m the same way …” She left the sentence unfinished but her face shone with happy anticipation.

“In that case, Madam, I shall try to be of help.” Any thoughts of mentioning his vasectomy fled from his mind. Hudson didn’t want to stop doing it with Madam.

“Would you like me hornier, Hudson?”

“Madam is all a man could ask, just as she is.” His cock was stirring, his Silicone Slik cock.

“My breasts will get bigger you know, my nipples will get more sensitive,” she shivered slightly, not with cold, “My sister says she was like a mink in heat the whole time.”

Hudson’s erection was gaining strength, painful in his pants. He shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m teasing you aren’t I, Hudson?” She reached out and raked her nails slowly down the fly of his pants. He gasped as she did it. “That lovely cock of yours seems to work so very well.”

“Yes, Madam, thank you, Madam.”








Hudson met Marie in the hall. They exchanged good mornings. Again he wondered who had visited him the night before.

She started up the stairs. Hudson stood at the foot; hand on the banister, watching her climb. She had good legs and the short skirt made the most of them. The skirt was too short; somebody should admonish her about it. Hudson wasn’t about to admonish anyone. With every step she took he saw further up the backs of those thighs, her stocking tops appeared. She stopped a couple of steps short of the top and Hudson could all but see her ass.

She turned and looked down at him, she’d known he’d still be there, watching. Marie sat down on the top step. An odd pose, her feet were apart, knees together, she looked little-girlish somehow. The back of her skirt hung down the step and the backs of her thighs gleamed white. “Could I have a word with you?” She spoke softly and managed, with a move of her head, to ask him to come up and join her.

Hudson started up, wondering what she wanted. As he ascended she slowly parted her knees, wider and wider as he advanced. Damn it, he could see up her skirt! Her legs kept opening. ‘Dear Heavens!’ She was naked under the skirt; he could see almost everything. Hudson gulped, almost audibly, and stopped.

He swallowed and asked, “What is it Marie?” His eyes found hers and she smiled. He knew that she knew from whence his eyes had come. His cock was still half hard from its Madam-induced rigidity and now it was quickly firming again. His eyes wanted to look back down. He had a flashback to the hand on his cock the night before.

“It’s about you and,” she paused, “you and her, you two, at it, all the time.” There was some anger in her words.

Everything about Marie was different. Hudson was continually being caught wrong-footed by her. She was so very good at her job and yet; and yet, here she was, displaying herself and talking of things that were no business of hers.

“Marie! Aren’t you forgetting yourself?” he blustered. His eyes flicked once again to between her splayed legs. He saw her eyes catch his downward glance.

“Jack, oh Jack, I never forget myself.” She slowly closed her legs. Hudson was relieved and disappointed.

Then the lovely legs opened again, she was too shadowed for him to see properly, but he imagined her vagina peeling open too.

Struggling to regain his dignity Hudson said, “Marie, I’m just the butler here, as was my father and his father before that and …”

She cut him short. “Jack, I know. I know you two are lovers. That’s fine. I just wish she didn’t take up all your free time. It’s a lonely little room up there…“

Hudson took a quick deep breath, about to interrupt, but she ploughed on, “Sir Oliver fancies me, he’s made that plain enough but I certainly don’t fancy him,” her voice dropped to a whisper, “We’re all stuck in this big house, miles from anywhere; I’m lonely Jack.”

They both heard the chair scrape back in the breakfast room. Marie’s legs closed, Hudson imagined the soft thighs slapping sweetly together, he turned and started downstairs.

Behind him Marie asked softly, “Can we talk again, later?”


“I think we should,” he said, trying to get the authority back into his voice.

The view up her skirt was still vivid in his mind. Life was so full of surprises. What the hell was he going to do? He smiled … he knew very well what he was going to do, the how was the problem.





Phoebe emerged from the breakfast room. She smiled at him. “I must tell Sir Oliver. Poor man he’ll be so pleased. How can I feel so happy and so guilty?”

“Concentrate on happy, Madam. We enjoyed ourselves and really, no harm has been done.”

"Don’t speak in the past tense, Hudson. I could use some of that right now.” She looked down meaningfully at his groin.






Hudson slowly climbed the two flights to his room. Last night, an unknown hand had stroked him to climax.This morning two women had said they needed his services. It sounded wonderful. But he wondered about these two strong willed personalities. He couldn’t imagine either of them sharing him with the other.

His cock was like an iron bar and stair climbing made it move in his pants. He seemed to grow more arousedwith each step. Yet he’d been drained only the night before. His mind flashed back to the first time Madam had allowed him to enter her. She’d been bent over the back of a sofa. He’d like to do it that way again.

He wondered what long-legged Marie would feel like, impaled on his cock.

But he had to think about his job, his future. He’d not find a better situation, he knew. He smiled wryly - and not with a fringe benefit like Madam. She was a delightful fringe benefit indeed.

He opened the door. The lubricant was gone. So, it was Marie who’d visited him. Madam had had no opportunity to take the bottle.

He sat on his bed, deep in thought. Sir Oliver would be on the train now, London bound. Really, it was just the three of them alone in the house. Cook never strayed from her kitchen and the two cleaning ladies from the village weren’t scheduled for Tuesdays.

Both Madam and Marie had expressed their needs that morning, in no uncertain terms. Marie was already jealous of Madam and Madam would certainly not share him. A crisis was coming and he had no idea how to handle it.





But elsewhere in the house, the problem was about to resolve itself.

Phoebe decided to run herself a bath and plan her day. Oliver was away at work and she fancied a little bit of Hudson. Perhaps she should send Marie to the village on some errand.

She lowered herself into the warm, perfumed water and lay carefully back.

‘Pregnant, I’m pregnant,’ she thought. She ran a hand over her stomach and up over the softness of a breast. Her palm slid over the nipple, dragging it, puling it; a delicious tremor rippled down to her pussy. ‘If only Hudson were here, I would have him scrub my back.’

The door opened and she looked up in happy anticipation.

“Would you like me to scrub your back?” asked Marie.

“In future, knock, Marie!” said Phoebe, more angry because it wasn’t Hudson than she was at Marie’s insolence. But of course, Hudson would have knocked first.

Marie didn’t answer but crossed to the bathtub and knelt down.

“You have lovely breasts, do you know that?” She stared at Phoebe’s bosom.

Phoebe resisted the urge to put her hands over her breasts. She was flattered by the attractive maid’s admiration.

“Pretty, pretty nipples.” Marie reached out and ran her fingertip across Phoebe’s right nipple.

Phoebe squealed and slapped the hand away. Water went all over the front of Marie’s dress.

Poor Phoebe, her anger was mixed with the need to say sorry for soaking Marie. That and the jolt in her pussy when the fingertip had brushed her nipple, left her devoid of her usual poise.

They stared at each other for long seconds. Phoebe’s lips were parted, her angry words unsaid. Marie’s lips were smiling. “They are pretty,” she said softly and reached out again, this time with finger and thumb and squeezed the nipple.

“Stop!” Phoebe said but she squirmed in the water. She wanted to be angry, wanted to send Marie packing. But her body had been wanting Hudson so badly, that it was betraying her, responding to this perverted woman’s touch.

The finger and thumb squeezed harder. Phoebe’s mouth opened and her eyes stared into Marie’s.

“Pretty, pretty, pretty nipples,” the maid whispered. She pinched with each ‘Pretty.’

When Marie released her, Phoebe almost cried out. Anger had turned full circle to wanting.

“Sit up now, and I’ll scrub your back.” She reached for loofah and soap. Phoebe obediently sat up and put her arms round her knees.

It was heavenly; it was forever since anyone had scrubbed her back. She closed her eyes, very aware of her breasts jostling in the water. She seemed to still feel the near pain of her nipple being squeezed. The soaping, the gentle scrubbing went on and on. Soon Phoebe was almost purring.

Marie finally stopped. She stood up, turned, and took a towel from the rail to dry her hands.

Phoebe noticed how short the skirt was and glimpsed the stocking-tops. The effect was, she searched for the word, lascivious, that was it she thought, lascivious. She opened her mouth but no words came. She wondered what Hudson thought of Marie. Jealousy flared but died again - Marie seemed more interested in her.

She began washing herself, while Marie fussed with her hair in the mirror. Phoebe had never had any lesbian experiences before and having Marie touch her had produced conflicting feelings. She’d wanted more, yet, at the same time, there had been that instinctive recoiling.

She sat in the cooling bathwater, half hoping Mariewould leave; only half hoping.

Marie turned and smiled. She reached for the big bathtowel and moved back to the bath. She stood with the towel spread out in her hands, her intention clear. She was expecting Phoebe to get out of the bath to be wrapped in the towel.

Phoebe got up, puzzled by her own obedience, and stepped out onto the mat. She turned her back, suddenly very aware of her nakedness. Phoebe stretched out her arms,allowing Marie to wrap the towel around her.

“Could we share Hudson?”

Phoebe couldn’t have been more shocked if Marie had slapped her. She could think of no answer.

She turned slowly, holding the towel protectively over her breasts and stared at the other woman. She finally managed, “I thought, … I thought you were interested in me.”

“Oh I am. Or would be, if you felt the same. You are very beautiful,” she hesitated, showing uncertainty for the first time. “But I want Jack too, I need what you need.”

“You mean … you mean you … you’re …” poor Phoebe was lost.

“Yes, I’m bisexual. That’s the word you want isn’t it?”

"You Rang, Madam?" Chapter 6

by Julius
Copyright November 2007




Hudson awoke. He lay in the blackness, gazing up, eyes open but unseeing. He heard movement, faint breathing; there was someone in his room. He waited and wondered, hoping it was Madam. She’d never visited him in his bedroom. Somehow their relationship seemed to preclud it.

Surely it wasn’t the coolly distant Marie? The idea intrigued him.

He felt the bed move as the someone pressed against it. The breathing was closer, soft, but there. A hand made its way under the covers and found his cock. The skin of the hand was slippery wet.

His cock responded, how could it not? Curiosity about the ownership of the hand began to wane. It seemed forever since his cock had been played with.

The hand seemed to know what he wanted, how he needed touching. It caressed him, gently, almost lovingly, bringing him to full erection. The grip tightened, slid the length of him, squeezed his cock-head. He groaned and was ‘Shhh’d’ by whoever she was. The fist slid down to the root, tightened, as if to choke him. A cock needs a little aggression, a little rough treatment. Part of Hudson lay back and got ready to enjoy.

He ceased to care who she was. He let himself focus just on his cock and the hand that was stroking it.

The hand stilled, perhaps she sensed his increasing arousal. He took over, thrusting, fucking the curled, squeezing fist. It felt so good, so very good. He heard the hand’s owner breathing louder, was she becoming aroused too? He thrust harder, faster but then the fingers relaxed, opened, leaving him nothing to thrust into.

He stopped, lay still. The fingers were still there but curled loosely around his cock, barely touching him. The words, ‘Don’t stop,’ hung unspoken in his throat. His cock was hot and he wanted more, tighter, faster.

Puzzled, he waited, moving his hips a little, wanting to feel her again.

Then the fist closed back around him and pumped, once, twice. He lay still, dreading that she’d stop again. This time the pressure was less but the hand moved faster. In the total darkness his cock and the hand were everything. His thighs tensed, his buttocks tightened, his breathing ceased as the climax suddenly built. He squirmed, his whole body zeroing in on the sweet friction on his cock.

She stopped! Her hand was gone. He heard his voice saying, “No, don’t stop!”

How had she known the exact moment? His body writhed; he thrust at nothing with his cock, seeking release. He wanted to come, wanted not to … he didn’t, not quite. He lay panting, panting and wanting. He wanted to touch himself, but he didn’t. He wanted the visiting hand back, back on his poor, come-ready cock.

An eternity seemed to pass until at last he felt himself softening. As if she knew, she took him in hand once more and, feeling him diminished, released him. She waited and waited then felt him again. His cock was small, small and soft.

He felt the hand withdraw from under the covers. ‘Don’t let her leave now!’ he begged silently. There was a bubbly, squirting noise, the sound of more lubricant being squeezed into a palm?

The hand came back, cupped over his cock and balls and began a gentle caressing. He felt his cock swell and surge erect again, back he went, to full hardness. The lovely, pumping caressing of his length was renewed. He was in love with the hand. It twisted and rolled and squirmed over the head of his cock, making subtle, clever love to it. Making his balls squirm in their sac, making his groin spasm.

She stilled her hand but kept the nearly-too-tight grip on him and again he began to fuck the lovely thing. He closed his eyes and imagined it was Madam’s cleavage he was fucking, then her mouth, then her wonderful pussy. In the end he simply imagined it was her hand - was it?

Perhaps it was Marie’s hand. Did it matter? No, not so long as it did what it was doing.

The hand was still, just gripping him as he fucked, letting him make his own speed.

Hudson thrust into the fingers until he felt his climax approaching and then he slowed and stopped. Self-teasing, but there was the added fun of fucking a hand other than his own.

Three times he took himself to the brink, three times she let him.

He heard her shift and the other hand joined the first. Now one gripped his cock and the other played with his balls.

Hudson loved it. One hand began stroking his cock again and the fingers of the other began to play behind his balls, pressing and caressing, the intimacy all but unbearable.

He could hear his tormentor breathing loudly now, more deeply, as if she were becoming aroused too. He hoped she’d climb into bed, on top of him and engulf his straining erection.

But that wasn’t her plan it seemed. She gripped hiscock tightly, tight to point of pain and began pumping. This time there was no slowing or stopping. She took him to the brink and over. With an unstoppable suddenness his crotch convulsed and he thrust into the tight fist and came, … and came and came and came.

He heard his desperate breaths, saw the lights on his retinas and sobbed his way through his orgasm. Felt the hot gushes spurt onto his belly.

The hands were gone. A faint silhouette showed in the doorway, Marie or Mistress, he still didn’t know.

Alone again with the cooling wetness of his own ejaculate. The almost bleachy smell of his come.

Tomorrow he’d see both of them and wonder, ’Which?’ Would his visitor betray herself? Marie or Mistress - she had lovely hands. He reached for his shriveled cock and found the slippery wetness he’d made - they'd made.

Hudson drifted into sleep.

"You Rang, Madam?" Chapter 5

by Julius
Copyright August 2007



Phoebe doubted she’d ever forget that walk across the car park.

As she’d climbed down from the Rolls, Hudson had said softly, “I shall watch Madam’s bottom every step of the way to the gate.”

She thought he probably would and she’d tried to neither emphasize nor subdue the swing of her hips. The thought of his gaze on her buttocks kept her arousal simmering. His cock had been so wonderful,their coupling so intense. She remembered her gutter talk; her slut-like squirming on his lap and a sweet, wicked joy seemed to fill her. Phoebe had been a slut; Hudson’s slut and she’d loved it.

The sun and the warm breeze quickly dried the sweat from her dress and her skin. Even the wetness of her hair at the back of her neck was blown dry. But the wetness between her legs didn’t dry. Hudson’s come,mingled no doubt with her own, seeped from her and were renewed as fast as they dried. There was a wonderful cool spot between her thighs, where the breeze found her knickerless pussy.

Phoebe was acutely aware of her lack of panties. She’d never, never been out without underwear before in her life. Her little, white, cotton unmentionables were in the chauffeur’s pocket!

As she went through the gateway to the stands, a breeze eddied at her from behind and lifted her skirt. She made desperate efforts at getting the hem down. The cool air over her warm buttocks made her very aware of her nakedness. If that happened with people about … her face and neck flushed hotly at the thought. She hoped Hudson had seen it.

Oliver had barely missed her. He wasn’t in a good mood; he’d not backed a single winner and was only too happy to set off for home when she suggested it.




They got into the Rolls. Phoebe was glad to see that Hudson had opened all the windows. She was certain the scents of their lovemaking still lingered. She sat where Hudson had sat. The very spot where she’d squatted astride him. Their eyes met in the rear view mirror and he nodded.

“A pleasant afternoon Madam?”

“Very nice thank you, Hudson.”

“Let’s get going, Hudson, shall we?” Sir Oliver’s afternoon obviously hadn’t been quite so pleasant.

Phoebe let her head fall back. She closed her eyes. She’d deliberately not smoothed her skirt under her, but had sat her bare bottom on the soft, warm leather where Hudson’s had been. She longed to slip her hand up under her skirt, to cup her happy pussy and to comfort it.




Hudson wondered if Marie would last a week. It seemed she was a writer or wanted to be one. Her new job gave her accommodation and a modest income and that seemed to be all she wanted. But she was conscientious and cheerful. The problem was, she seemed to consider herself the equal of all in the household.

She refused to call him Mr. Hudson, as was required. Instead, she called him Jack as did cook in her angrier moments. He’d explained that he was Hudson to Sir and Madam and Mr. Hudson to the rest of the staff, but she still called him Jack.

Worse, she didn’t call Madam, Madam, but called her nothing at all. It was the same with her treatment of Sir Oliver. Hudson was outraged and had explained after her latest omissions, with barely contained anger, how things should be done. All to no avail.

But she was so cheerful and efficient; twice the servant that Agnes had been. She seemed quite happy to wear the uniform but any gestures of respect were, it seemed, out of the question. She had all of Agnes’ old uniforms. They’d been dry cleaned and fit herperfectly, except for length. She was taller than Agnes and the now relatively short skirt made her look very, very attractive to Hudson.

But just as no one could get her to respect her betters, neither could anybody seem to fire her either. So Marie performed her duties perfectly by day and wrote in her little room by night. Hudson seemed unable to do anything with her, yet the house had run smoother, and somehow happier, since her arrival.

On Friday, six days after the racing at Ascot, Phoebe was awakened by Marie. Awakened and surprised; Marie had brought her breakfast in bed.

“Good morning!” cried Marie, flinging wide the curtains, “Maggie let me use the kitchen.”

Phoebe buried her face in the pillow. The sunlight was brilliant and painful. Nobody called cook by her name, not until now anyway. Delivering breakfast in bed was not required. Phoebe thought about firing Marie right then and there. The smell of toast reached her and her stomach growled.

She struggled herself into a sitting position andMarie slid the tray onto her lap, a tray full of poached egg and toast and marmalade. A small pot of tea made it into her favourite breakfast.

Her irritation faded and she said, “Thank you, Marie.”

“No problem.”

What sort of remark was ‘No problem’ wondered Phoebe? Marie did have some odd turns of phrase.

Marie perched herself on the side of the bed. Phoebe bit back her instinctive rebuke and forked a piece of egg into her mouth.

“Do you always sleep alone?”

Phoebe looked around the room and nodded. “Yes, I suppose I do.” Then she added defensively. “Well not always of course.” She blushed then. Horribly flustered, realizing what she’d said, what it implied.

Marie laughed. “So we’re both lonely at night.” She got off the bed and went to the window and stood looking out. “Eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”

Phoebe tried to frame a response but, with a mental shrug, set about her breakfast instead.

While she ate, she kept glancing at Marie, who was still gazing out of the window, little more than a silhouette. The uniform suited her. Strange she should wear it, while showing no willingness to follow the rest of the conventions. The skirt was too short and Phoebe thought of those silly, fancy dress outfits that were supposedly those of a French maid.

“Thank you Marie,” she said, putting down an emptycup.

Marie came back to the bed again and sat.

“You’re welcome,” she said and then, out of the blue, asked, “Are you and Jack, Hudson I mean, having an affair?”

“Marie!” Phoebe did her best to sound outraged.

“Oh come on, the way you behave around each other, I guessed it right away.”

Then she got off the bed and said, “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

When Phoebe had put the last piece of toast into her mouth Marie reached for the tray. As she took it the bedclothes slipped down, baring Phoebe to the waist.

She pulled the sheet back up to cover her breasts. She had felt, as much as seen, Marie’s eyes on them.

Marie smiled, “They’re lovely. Isn’t Jack a lucky man?”

After Marie had left with the tray, Phoebe sat very still, clutching the sheet over her bosom. She thought back to when she’d first asked Hudson to lift her dress and wondered, just what had she started?

There’d been something about the way Marie had commented on Jack’s luck. A note of envy, not of Phoebe’s breasts she thought, but of Jack.




While Phoebe was eating her surprise breakfast, Hudson was moving about his bedroom changing his clothes. He’d driven Sir Oliver to the station under rain-laden clouds. Walking back to the house from the garage he’d got soaked in a sudden downpour. As he hung his chauffeur’s jacket on the back of the door he remembered Madam’s knickers. Taking them carefullyfrom the pocket he pressed them to his nose. Her scent still clung to the fabric, his cock reared. Hudson eased his briefs off his hips and wrapped the scrap of cloth around his cock.

A week, he thought, no six days, since she’d squirmed and come in his lap in the back of the Rolls. He would dearly love to go and wake her with his cock.

Hudson squeezed himself and wished, remembering the hot, wet grip of her pussy. His hand moved, steadily running his panty-lined hand up and down his cock.

Suddenly his body convulsed and he spurted into Madam’s underwear. He came helplessly, jet after jet into the white cotton.

Dear God! Jerking off into a woman’s underwear like a lad. But he didn’t care, he’d needed it and where better was there than in his mistress’s sweet little panties?

He crossed to the wash basin and carefully rinsed them and hung them to dry. He’d choose a good moment later in the day to hand them to her. It was past time for another frolic, long past time.




After dinner that evening the phone had rung and Sir Oliver had been summoned to answer it.

Seizing his chance, Hudson pulled the panties from his pocket and passed them to her.

“Washed and dried, and pretty as ever Madam,” he said.

“Oh Hudson! Thank you,” she paused, smiling up at him,“that was a lovely thing we did. I can’t stop thinking about it.” She balled up the panties and slipped them into a pocket of her dress.

“Hudson?”

“Madam?”

“Hudson. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Madam, I doubt you’d think the kind of thoughts I’m thinking.”

“Oh but I think I am, Hudson,” her voice dropped to a whisper, “you’re thinking you’d like to get into me again … soon. And I’m thinking, Hudson, that I want more of this.” Her small hand darted out and cupped his groin.

“Oh exactly, Madam.”

“Well, I’ve been wondering, Hudson, it’s high time someone did some sorting out of the stuff we’ve got stored in the attics of this house. Perhaps you could find a little spare time in your duties and we could go up there and have a look round.”

“I’d be delighted, Madam. Perhaps tomorrow morning?”

“Very well Hudson, tomorrow morning.”



The ascent had been every bit as tantalizing as she’d no doubt intended. He’d brought the ladder and put it in place. Madam had insisted in going up first. She’d worn a skirt of course, a knee-length denim one. The view was quite delightful. Hudson stood at the bottom of the ladder to steady it and he’d been quite free to gaze upwards, up her skirt, up at her bare derriere.

“Madam!” he said with mock gravity. “I gave you a pairjust yesterday evening.”

“I’m sorry, Hudson, I quite forgot in my haste. How thoughtless of me.”

He watched until she reached the top step, and thenbegan his own ascent. The wooden stepladder was a little rickety and he didn’t look up until his head and shoulders were through the ceiling.

She’d lain back and rested her feet in the far corners of the hole. Hudson’s head was between her knees and he was facing her bare pussy.

“Did you ever see one of these in an attic before, Hudson?” she asked, her voice full of laughter.

“No, Madam, I can’t say that I did.”




When, moments later, Marie’s voice called, “Is your Mistress up there Jack?” Hudson came close to falling.

But he kept his head and answered, “Yes Marie, she is.”

“I’m just off to the village, wondered if she needed anything?”

He peered down at her but before he could answer,Madam called, “No, thank you Marie, but it was kind ofyou to ask.”

Marie’s footsteps receded as she went downstairs and he was alone again with Madam’s pussy. He bent and kissed her gently at her centre and she moaned in response. He raised his head again.

“Make me come with your mouth, Hudson,” she asked and added softly, “Please, Hudson, with your mouth.”

His eyes were now accustomed to the gloom after the brightness below and he saw she was holding her skirt with her hands, exposing herself to him, from the waist down. Her thighs and pussy were open.

His cock responded eagerly and he slid a hand down into his pants to position it more comfortably.

“Don’t tease me, Hudson.” She brought her knees together, pressing the sides of his head gently.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Madam.”

“I rather think you would and I should love it, but not now.” She moved her hands from her skirt and with her fingertips pulled her pussy lips,apart, opening herself. “Not now, Hudson.”

Hudson had often wondered at the way many men seemed to find the female genitals repugnant. He bent, and with his tongue, gently licked her, licked the length of her pussy. Her scent enveloped him. How anyone could fail to delight in this pretty patch of paradise?

His cock responded as always and he went to work between her thighs.

He took a mouthful of her and bit gently, then harder, until she squirmed. He could taste her but the flavour eluded him. She was sweet and he told her she tasted of strawberries. He kissed and sucked and nibbled everywhere but her little clit. He was teasing her of course.

But her arousal was mounting. Her legs closed and opened about his ears. Her hips thrust her mound against his face. He could hear her breathing, when her thighs weren’t over his ears.

She began saying, ’Please,’ over and over. He eased the pressure of his mouth or slowed his tongue, tryingto keep her near her threshold. Her movements became more rapid, more urgent, and her voice begged for release.

His own arousal threatened to take him and his straining cock over the edge.

Relenting at last, he took her clit between his lips, and began loving it with his tongue tip.

She uttered the word, “Yes!” just once and her body went rigid for a moment, then she climaxed. Her pubis humped against his mouth with bruising force. Her whole body spasmed and struggled, as she fought through her orgasm.

He feared she’d hurt herself on the rough wood and sharp edges. He struggled to restrain her and finally she began to subside.




Hudson was almost dozing. He was still stood on the ladder, his head resting on her thigh. Finally she stirred and tried to move her leg. He raised his head and chuckled, “Is Madam recovered?”

“I’m not sure. I may never recover.” She sighed and asked, “Where did you learn your skills, Hudson?”

“Part of my training, Madam.”

She drew her feet towards her and sat up. Her knees were spread wide and she gaped open. Hudson grinned.

“What’s so funny, Hudson?”

“Madam looks uncommonly unladylike,” he said, “but most attractive.”

“I feel wonderfully unladylike, Hudson.”

She struggled to her feet and Hudson climbed up carefully to join her.

“I haven’t been up here for years. Look at all the stuff!” she said.

The attic was huge and stacked with boxes and trunks. Old picture frames and pieces of furniture were piled everywhere.

Hudson found a switch. Two light bulbs lit and the jumble was suddenly even more impressive.

He watched her move cautiously about, looking at the chaos. She paused at a trunk and raised the lid. Itwas full of what looked like curtains. She lifted some out and laid them on the dusty floor.

“We could build a little nest up here, Hudson.”

She kicked off her shoes and shimmied out of her skirt. Her blouse followed and she stood naked.

“Well?” She gestured at him and he began undressing.

Her breasts were lovely and he stared at them, as he took off his clothes.

She hefted them in her cupped hands. “Still unladylike, Hudson. Am I a slut, Hudson?”

“Never, Madam, never.”

She dropped to her knees and beckoned to him.

“If I were to grab your lovely cock and jerk you off all over these tits, I’d be a slut wouldn’t I, Hudson?”

Hudson said nothing. He very much wanted her to grab his cock and moved to stand in front of her.

“We’ve been so busy trying to make me pregnant, Hudson. Do you know, I’ve never seen a man come? Iwant to. I want to see you come, Hudson. Would you let me?”

His cock was erect again and she was staring at it, delight on her face.

“I’m not sure I would be able to stop you, Madam.”

She reached out her hand, “Oh please, don’t stop me.”

Her hand was gentle as she ran it up and down his length. Hudson looked up, there was a rafter justabove him, and he reached up with both hands. He movedhis feet apart and sighed, as he watched her inspect him.

She spat in her hand and began pumping him. Now she did look like a slut. A beautiful, big-breasted slut.

Her hand, her saliva, his cock. ‘Who’d have thought?’ he wondered. But oh god, it felt good. She stopped anddribbled her spit into her palm again. She looked up,wide-eyed and strangely innocent.

“I’ll suck it next time, I’ll suck your lovely cock next time.”

He just groaned. Her hand, her obscenities, she turned him on beyond belief. Already his balls were squirming in their sack and his buttocks were clenching and he was thrusting to meet the slide of her fist.

“That’s right, Hudson, fuck my dainty little hand. I’m going to make that cock come, Hudson. Going to make it come. Going to watch it come, watch my Hudson come.”

She was lost in the moment, he realized. He saw her drop her other hand to her groin and he watched her arm moving, as she pleasured herself.

He wouldn’t last much longer he knew. But then she stopped and blew on his spit-wet erection. The chill on his cock made him gasp. She wouldn’t tease him like this, would she?

Yet again she spat into her hand and grabbed him. She squeezed him until it hurt and then began to slide her small hand up and down once more. In a moment, the first spasm rippled through his belly and he knew he was coming.

“Yes, Hudson, come with that lovely cock. Yes, yes, yes!”

She stared, her eyes blinking rapidly, expecting his first gush, willing him to come.

Come he did! The first spurt landed on the bridge of her nose and she squealed in delight. The second hit her top lip and then she bent him cruelly down, directing his come onto her breasts.

“Hudson’s cock, Hudson’s cock, coming, coming, coming.” A little girl’s voice, a delighted, wildly excited little girl.

He was suddenly wobbly-kneed and weak. He dropped a hand and grabbed at her hair, as his last spasm writhed in his groin.



Marie’s voice seemed to paralyze them both. “Surely I could have done that for you … Madam.”

"You Rang, Madam?" Chapter 4

by Julius
Copyright Aug 2007



Hudson was more annoyed than surprised when Agnes gave him her ultimatum.

“Madam and you will serve me tea, dressed like I say.”

“Really Agnes, and if we don’t?”

“Like I say, I know all about you and the Mistress doin’ it and I’ll tell Sir Oliver.”

“And if we serve you tea, will that be it?”

“No, course not,” she replied, “But it’s a start.”

Intrigued, he asked, “And how will we be dressed for serving tea?”

“Madam’ll be a maid like me of course and you ‘Udson? You won’t be dressed at all.”



As Hudson told Madam, he could see her picturing the scene and she smiled and said, “You serving tea naked, Hudson, that has charm.”

“I’m sure it does, Madam.”

“Well, Hudson, what did you tell her?”

“Nothing at all, Madam. I told Sir Oliver and Agnes has now left your employ.”

“Hudson! What happens when she tells Sir Oliver about us?”

“She won’t, Madam. I told him myself.”

The colour drained from her face. “You told him about…, about us?”

“Not in so many words of course, Madam,” he said patiently, “I told Sir Oliver that Agnes had concocted a story about you and I and was trying to blackmail you.”

“And?” she prompted.

“Sir Oliver sent me to find her and to send her in. I listened outside the door. I hope you’ll forgive me that, Madam.”

“Of course I forgive you. What happened?”

“Not much, Madam. Sir Oliver simply explained that he knows people who know some very unpleasant people and then he dismissed her. The message seemed quite clear, Madam. He surprised me by writing her a reference. She packed her things after that and left.”

“And that’s it, Hudson?” she asked, obviously shaken.

“Of course, Madam. Sir Oliver trusts me completely. Will that be all, Madam?”

Hudson left his mistress standing, staring out of thewindow and no doubt wondering about their own relationship. He was enjoying her; there was no doubt about that. He shrugged and decided to just let events unfold as they would. She certainly seemed to be enjoying him.




When Hudson passed their bedroom door that night, as he did his pre-bedtime rounds of the house, Sir Oliver had been hard at it with her. Maybe, just maybe, there would be a pregnancy. That would ensure that life in the household continued to flow smoothly.

A maddening three days followed, with no opportunities for them to play. Sir Oliver had decided to work from home until the weekend so the house was never empty. Hudson found himself trying to avoid her. Her presence, her perfume stirred him. He realized he was becoming addicted to Lady Phoebe.




Three girls had applied to fill the vacancy left by Agnes but, after each interview, Madam and Hudson agreed that they were unsuitable. On Friday Marie appeared. Her references were impeccable and Hudson was pleased when Madam chose her.

He liked Marie. Tall and slim, her faint French accent and her name suited the job perfectly. He tried to avoid emotional involvement with other staff members but Marie did promise to improve the domestic scenery.




Saturday was race-day at Ascot. Hudson’s duties included occasional chauffeuring so, as he expected, he was needed. Sir Oliver loved horseracing and LadyPhoebe usually, reluctantly, accompanied him.

Midmorning saw Hudson driving the old Rolls. Sir Oliver and Lady Phoebe were sat in the back, dressed for the day.

Watching horses run round and round was nearly as exciting as cricket in his mistress’s opinion. She’d touched Hudson’s arm as he’d helped her from the car. She’d whispered the word, “later” and Hudson had nodded.

He parked the Rolls in the farthest corner of the members-only car park. He sat behind the wheel working on a crossword and waiting, hoping she would visit him. Her lack of interest in horseracing was well known in the household but she loved the dressing up and mingling with friends.

Soon enough he spotted her. She stood looking for the car. Hudson flashed the lights and she began walking towards him. There was a breeze and she held onto her wide brimmed hat with one hand and tried to subdue her dress-hem with the other.

She looked beautiful. The sunlight seemed to make her glow. Her legs showed plainly as the wind pressed the thin fabric against her. Hudson’s cock stirred at the thought of what he hoped was about to happen.

“Hello, Hudson. I slipped away. They’ll not miss me. They’re all staring through their binoculars and shouting at the gee-gees.”

She glanced nervously around. “Are you sure we’ll be safe here?”

“Perfectly, Madam. I checked all the cars and no one’s entered the car park since. We’re quite alone.”

She went to the back door and got in. “Come and join me then.”

When he was sat beside her, she got up and moved across to stand in front of him. Bending over the front seat she said, “Well, if I’m to sit on your lap perhaps you’d better,” she paused, “better prepare us both.”

Hudson ran his hands up her thighs and fumbled for the waistband of her panties. As he drew them down, she giggled.

“Madam?”

“It’s just the feel of you peeling them out from between my legs, off my pussy. It feels so nice, so wicked.”

He drew them down to her ankles and she stepped out of them. Hudson put the panties in the pocket of hisjacket. He let his hands run up the backs of her thighs and caressed her delightful bottom. She quivered under his touch.

He unzipped his trousers and wrestled them past his knees, then worked his briefs down far enough to free his cock. His arousal was very plain to see.

“I don’t suppose we look very elegant do we?” she said. Hudson had draped her dress over her back.

“Well, I trust Madam will keep her hat on while she fucks?”

“Of course, Hudson, today is race day. Ladies always wear big hats for race day,” she paused then added, “especially when fucking on race days.”

He held his cock vertical for her. Clutching the front seat, she slowly lowered her self onto him.

Hudson groaned and he heard her draw in a breath through her teeth, as she sank onto him.

“Oh God, Hudson, we are a perfect fit aren’t we?”

“Perhaps a little tight, Madam.”

“That’s what I said, Hudson, a perfect fit.”

She squirmed her bottom into his lap, doing wonderful things to his cock.

“Can we just sit like this a while?” she said quietly, “I want to enjoy feeling you, savour that cock inside me.”

“I should enjoy that, Madam,” he said and slipped his hands up and around and cupped her breasts, hefting them, “these are very beautiful. Perhaps I should set them free?”

“I think not, knickerless in public, at Ascot is enough for me.”

“A pity, Madam.” He gave her breasts a firm squeeze that made her gasp.

“Oh Hudson! Do that again.”

He kneaded her breasts and found her nipples with fingers and thumbs and began pinching them, none too gently, through dress and bra.

She writhed in his arms. Her movements on his erection were a beautiful torment.

She moaned and her urge to ‘just sit’ seemed to disappear. She scrambled of his cock, off his lap and turned round and knelt astride his thighs.

She fumbled between them for his cock and guided him into her again. She dropped herself onto him. His cock speared up into her, in one swift movement.

Then her lips were on his and she was sucking his tongue into her mouth. Teeth grated and she seemed intent on swallowing him.

Her hips lifted, pulling his cock from her and then she slammed down on him again.

She pulled her mouth away. “God, Hudson, I’ve wanted that cock all day. Now fuck me. Just fuck my cunt. Hard. Just as hard you can!”

Her obscenities and their urgency shocked him but he set about fucking her as ordered.

More than once, cock escaped cunt, as they struggled to satisfy each other. She was so wet! He got his hands under her dress and grasped her hips. He fought to control her as she bounced frantically on his lap. Her breathing, and his, became loud and rapid.

Hudson watched over her shoulder, praying no one would approach. He wondered if even that would stop them.

She seemed oblivious to everything but the plunging of his cock into her. Her language was shameful, as she urged him on; writhing and squirming like an animal.

She was insatiable. He wondered at her hunger. Sweat streamed off her in the heat of the car. She fought for breath but she kept lifting and dropping onto his thighs. He thrust up in time with her, straining to get his cock as deep into her as he could. Trying to satisfy this struggling creature on his lap.

His climax was slow in building. With her legs splayed so wide, her pussy so wet, she wasn’t so tight. It was like fucking hot butter. He began to wonder if she wanted more than he could give. She came once and then again, proclaiming each orgasm loud and clear. Each time he felt the rippling and clutching of her vagina, as it sought to draw his juices from him.

Finally his body began its climb and he knew he would come. He told her, gasping out the words.

“Yes, yes, Hudson, come then, just fucking come, high, high up, deep inside me.”

He needed no encouragement. He just thrust and ground up into her.

She kept up her lift and plunge, lift and plunge. Every driving descent onto him was accompanied by aloud, “Fuck!” from her.

Finally Hudson did come, a desperate, hot series of spurts through his straining cock. Each gush burned like a hot wire being pulled from his being. He thought his heart would burst.

When he opened his eyes, hers were boring into his. He felt her pussy still spasming around his cock. It seemed to be milking him, suckling, still hungry. He began shrinking inside her.

“I never dreamt it could be like that.” Her voice was full of disbelief. “I never dreamt, … never.”

Hudson just groaned happily. He was hoarse and felt utterly spent but there was that wonderful glow inside his chest.

She said, very softly, “Know what I’d like, Hudson?”

“No, Madam, I don’t.”

“I’d like do that again. Soon.” Her voice had a dreamlike quality.

Hudson’s eye fell on the dashboard clock. “Dear God! Madam! The time!”

"You Rang, Madam?" Chapter 3

by Julius
Copyright July 2007





Agnes waited just two days to drop her bombshell. By then Phoebe had more or less convinced herself that the maid knew nothing and that the cries of her passion, as Hudson had plumbed her depths, had gone un-remarked.

“I saw you and Hudson Madam.”

“Saw what Agnes, you silly girl.”

“Silly, no Madam, and I was twenty last month.”

“Come to the point Agnes.” Phoebe had gone cold at first but now a flush was spreading up from her neck. Phoebe never blushed, not until that day.

“I peeped between the doors and watched you and him at it.”

So that was it. The whole damn house would soon know, if they didn’t already.

As if reading her mind, Agnes said, “I ain’t told no-one yet Madam.”

Struggling to recover Phoebe said, “I hope you won’t Agnes, there’s no need. Hudson and I, we had our reasons.”

“Oh I’m sure you did Madam.”

Phoebe wondered if Agnes would understand if she explained the basic reason for her coupling with Hudson. No, she decided, first find out what the little bitch wanted.

“Wondering what I want aren’t you Madam?” Agnes asked.

“Very well Agnes, just what do you want?”

Agnes stood and held her finger to her lips as if in deep thought. Phoebe waited, very scared on the inside, struggling to show composure on the outside.

“I want to be there next time.”

“Next time?”

“Yes Madam, next time Hudson gets into your silk knickers, I wants to be there.”

Phoebe stared at the younger woman. “Have you thought about what Hudson might have to say?”

“Oh he’d agree, he likes his job too much. But he wont know will he? You’ll have him blindfolded won’t you?”




Phoebe sat down heavily after Agnes left. How could she have let this happen? Would Agnes be satisfied with this one demand? Phoebe doubted it. She wondered if she could face having sex with Hudson in front of another woman. But what were her alternatives? She’d just have to go ahead and arrange her next session with him and play it as it came.




On Thursday Oliver was up in London at his office as usual. It was cook’s afternoon off so just Hudson and her in the house. Agnes too of course but Hudson thought she was off visiting her sister.





She stood in her bedroom and watched as Agnes pawed through her underwear drawer. Hudson was due in a few minutes so the two of them didn’t speak.

Agnes lifted out a pair of Phoebe’s panties, black, lacy things. She carefully stepped into them and pulled them up under her uniform skirt. Phoebe thought bitterly that it was typical of the girl that she would wear no underwear herself.

She produced a matching bra and peered at the label. Her eyebrows went up and she looked at Phoebe and down at Phoebe’s heavy breasts. She handed the bra to Phoebe and whispered, “Too big; way, way too big,” and added, with a glance down at her own chest, “don’t you wish.”

Anger flashed through Phoebe. She knew her breasts were big but she was proud of them and Hudson had thought them perfect. How dare this little trollop pass comment, … how dare she?

She caught Agnes looking at her and grinning. She realized how easily she had let the girl get under her skin.

They both started at Hudson’s gentle knock. Agnes went to hide in the big closet and Phoebe crossed to the door.

“Good afternoon Madam, I’m not early I hope.”

“No Hudson, on time as always.” He amazed her with his poise and the perfect servant-and-mistress manner.

“I thought you might like to try something a little different this time.”

“At Madam’s service.” He smiled at her and added. “Always a pleasure to service Madam.”

‘If only,’ she thought, ‘if only that little bitch wasn’t hiding, waiting.’

She moved towards Hudson and put her arms around his neck and kissed him, open-mouthed. She wanted to tell him, to share the problem he knew nothing about. He responded and his arms went round her.

Phoebe thought of just letting it happen, letting him have her and to hell with Agnes. But the maid held all the cards. She drew away slowly from him.

“I’d like to tie you up and blindfold you.”

“I think I should like that,” he paused and added, “Madam.”

She smiled to herself as she noted the near omission. Perhaps he’d call her Phoebe one day. She hoped so.

He began to undress. She stood and watched. She wore only the long Terry robe. This was the first time she’d seem him out of the dark grey suit that was his uniform. She liked what she saw.

He hooked his thumbs into his briefs. “No, leave those on. Let me peel them off when the time comes.”

She reached for the dark red scarf on the bed.

Hudson allowed himself to be blindfolded and stood waiting. Phoebe helped him to sit on the bed and he lay back with his head on the pillow.

She tied his wrists to the bedposts with black stockings. She stood looking down at him. A nice body, tall and lean … very nice indeed. His white briefs looked deliciously well filled. She could see the subtle outlines of his cock and balls. No sign of an erection, perhaps he was nervous too.

Phoebe sensed movement behind her and Agnes was there at her elbow. She looked at the younger woman and almost gasped. Agnes was naked save for the panties but it wasn’t the nakedness that surprised her, it wasthe hunger on the girl's face.

Another surprise was Agnes’ breasts. They were beautiful. The size of small grapefruit and looking every bit as firm, no wonder she was so proud of them. Her nipples jutted straight ahead, the palest of pinks.

Agnes turned and looked at her and made a ‘help yourself’ gesture. How sudden and complete had been the power shift. Phoebe undid the robe’s belt and let it slide off her shoulders to the floor.

She tried to forget Agnes’ presence and moved to the bed and knelt beside Hudson.

“This feels very peculiar Madam.”

She reached out and touched his cock through the cotton. Her hunger for that cock hovered in the background but the presence of Agnes worried and embarrassed her. She tried to pretend the girl wasn’t there but, of course, that didn’t work.

Hudson’s cock stirred and began straightening in his briefs. He gave a soft moan of appreciation. Phoebe felt tears welling. She was frozen by uncertainty. She felt Agnes push against her arm and she got off the bed and stood.

Agnes seemed to have no problem with an audience. She pulled the waistband of the briefs down, exposing Hudson’s now erect cock. She began fondling him.

Phoebe watched. For perhaps the first time in her privileged life she felt helpless. This mere servant had stolen Hudson so easily and she’d not made the least resistance. Was this the way blackmail worked?

Agnes crouched over Hudson and took his cock in her mouth. Poor, naked Phoebe might as well have been on the moon. He squirmed his hips and moaned as the maid fellated him and Phoebe hoped he’d come and have this sorry business over with.

But Agnes stopped her noisy sucking, raised her head and got off the bed. Hudson protested, “No, don’t stop Madam.“

Agnes took Phoebe’s wrist and urged her towards the bed, clearly intending that she take over. She shook her head but Agnes nodded and again thrust her towards Hudson.

“Madam, are you alright?” asked Hudson.

She didn’t answer but got onto the bed and let herself bend over and take his cock in her mouth. It was big and it was hot and she wished with all her heart she was alone with him. She did so want to do everything to that cock.

Hudson bucked his hips and his cockhead bumped against the back of her throat making her gag noisily.

She raised her head trying to catch her breath.

“I’m sorry Madam,” said Hudson and sounded it. A corner of her mind laughed at his contrition …apologizing at a moment like this!

In sudden hunger she took his cock again, wanting to make him come, drain him, drink his essence for herself. She suckled him, noisily, clumsily. Saliva streamed down his cock. Her eyes streamed tears. She sucked, her head bobbed, she heard his voice crying,“Yes, yes, yes!”

Then Agnes’ hand gripped her forearm and pulled her sharply, she lost her balance and all but fell off the bed.

In a moment the maid had scrambled on top of him and impaled herself on his cock.

Horrified, helpless. She watched them. Hudson humped and groaned, Agnes gyrated her slim hips as she fought and fucked on that lovely erection.

They came together, Hudson bucking them both clear of the bed. Agnes’ head was thrown back and she squirmed, in apparent agony, on his cock.

Despite her anger and helplessness, Phoebe felt her body responding to what she was seeing. One hand had strayed down to slowly caress her pussy and the other cupped a breast, finger and thumb tugging gently and steadily at the nipple.

On the bed Hudson and Agnes were regaining their breath. Agnes leaned forward on her hands and slowly raised her hips. Hudson’s cock, still firm, emerged inch by beautiful inch from Agnes’ cunt. Phoebe watched, fascinated, as the girl's cunt-lips clung to his penis. Her own pussy clenched with an intense spasm as if in sympathy.

Slowly, almost as if in pain, Agnes climbed off Hudson and off the bed. She looked at Phoebe and gave her a ‘cat-got-the-cream’ smile and began shimmying the panties down off her hips. She handed them to Phoebe.

Phoebe looked at them and gave a little grimace of disgust and made to hand them back. But Agnes gestured that she was to wear them. Then she realized she andAgnes were supposed to be one, or at least that Hudson was intended to think so.

With no more ado Agnes went to the bedroom door and slipped silently out. Phoebe almost collapsed from relief and crossed to lock the door.

“Madam?” came Hudson’s voice. He was tugging at his bonds, obviously wondering where she had gone.

She crossed to the bed, still carrying the panties. Shrugging, she stepped into them and pulled them carefully up. They were wet, very wet - it was some comfort to realise that it was probably mostly Hudson’s wetness.

“I’m here Hudson,” she said and climbed onto the bed.

She straddled him and lowered the wet crotch of the panties onto his now-small cock. Phoebe ground against him, relishing the sensation. Leaning forward, resting her hands on either side of his chest, she brushed a nipple across his lips.

He took the offered nipple with lips and teeth.

“Do you like my breasts Hudson? My too-big, too-saggy breasts?”

He released her. “They are beautiful. They are soft, heavy, and utterly beautiful. Perfect,” he chuckled, “Madam.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer firmer, younger, peach-sized titties?”

“Madam, please, I love your perfect breasts and I can’t talk with my mouth full.”

With that, he sought and found her nipple again and sucked in a mouthful of her. She closed her eyes.

“Suck me Hudson, suck me, bite me until I come.”

And he did. He made her come by suckling her left nipple. A wonderful wire seemed to run hot from breast to somewhere in the pit of her stomach and thence to her pussy. The magic happened, and in no time at all it seemed, he dragged her by her nipple into a blissful climax. She collapsed onto him and sobbed shamelessly through it.

Eternal minutes later he asked, “Does it work with the other one?” His voice held humour and challenge.

“Oh yes it does. But I don’t think …”

“May I try? As I said, they are lovely, your breasts,” he paused, “with very nibbleable nipples.”

She wasn’t sure she could bear it again, not right away. But she struggled up and teased the other nipple across his lips. He seized it, sucked it in and attacked it with tongue and teeth.

Phoebe lost control of herself as the near pain of his nipping relit the fire in her cunt.

A voice that surely wasn’t hers was begging him, “Yes bite me, suck at me baby, hard as you like. Yes, yes, yes, yes. Do it, do it, do it, make me come!” The voice, her voice? went on and on while she struggled on the hook that seemed to be getting deeper and deeper between her legs. She repeatedly pulled her nipple from between his teeth then begged him to bite her some more.

Her second orgasm crashed over her, through her. She fell on him struggling and sweating and sobbing for breath.




When she came back from wherever orgasms took her, she was aware of his hard cock under her stomach. She knew she wanted that cock but after the two climaxes she’d just had, she wasn’t sure. And Hudson, so soon after his coupling with bitch Agnes?

“Would you remove the blindfold?” he asked when she stirred.

“Of course.”

She raised herself onto hands and knees. Hudson turned his head to one side and she fumbled with the knot.

“I want to see those breasts you have such a poor opinion of. Maybe you could undo my hands and I’ll inspect them properly.”

She untied his hands. All the time she was aware of his hard cock nudging at her from behind. Soon enough she knew she wanted him, no matter how drained she felt.

She sat up and moved back a little, getting herself over that lovely erection. Neither spoke, both knew what was going to happen. She grabbed his cock, held it erect and drew the panties aside. Slowly in one smooth downward move she impaled herself.

“Cock in cunt Hudson, cock in cunt,“ she whispered the words, relishing their sweet obscenity.

Let Agnes be outside the door listening, she thought. Better yet, let her be peeping through the keyhole. She doubted she was, but it was a wonderful thought.

Oh the joy of being filled again. And Hudson did fill her so wonderfully. In girth and in length; sweet, stretching girth and gentle, cervix nudging length. She just sat on him, eyes closed, savouring the beautiful cuntfullness.

Hudson stirred under her. His hands came up,spread-fingered as they sought to encompass her breasts. He squeezed her gently. His palms chaffed her nipples, now so tender. She shivered uncontrollably at the sensations radiating through her breasts.

“They are beautiful Madam, a perfect match for your pretty bottom.”

With that he slid his hands down and gripped the bottom in question.

She squirmed, feeling that lovely cock massage the walls of her pussy.

“Fuck me Hudson, make me come.”

“Of course Madam.” There was humour in his voice, and laughter, she thought.

Still gripping her buttocks, he thrust up at her and Phoebe ground down against him.

He did fuck her too, with a passion that surprised her. So soon after his bout with Agnes! Oh how she needed him, needed filling, needed the sweet violation.

She matched his fervour, bouncing her bottom on his thighs. Fighting to get more and more of his cock, deeper and deeper in her hungry pussy. Her breasts bounced and jostled and she watched his face as he followed their movements.

Her body was past ready for this and she felt the hot boil of her approaching climax in the pit of her stomach. She forgot everything but Hudson’s cock inside her and squirmed and writhed, an animal in heat.She fought for release, sobbing and sweating with her efforts, uncaring about her cries.

Her orgasm hit and she though her pussy would turn inside out as she rode on Hudson’s wonderful hardness.

She was spent! But Hudson’s thrusting went on. His hands went to her breasts, squeezing them until they hurt. Then he was clutching her bottom again as he struggled to reach his own climax.

Suddenly her body was begging for more too and she joined him in his struggle. Thrusting back and forth, as if to hurt herself with his cock, as if to break him off inside her. He was sobbing the word, “Yes!” over and over as he ground up into her.

Finally she felt his body tense, a tightening spring and she knew he was coming. In beautiful harmony, her body’s pace became matched to his.

As one they came, the pulse of his spurting cock and her milking, clutching pussy.

Phoebe fell forward onto her hands, her sweat-slick breasts on his heaving chest.

His eyes opened, he licked his lips and looked at her,“I’ve never come twice with anyone before, never.”

Phoebe felt her eyes flood with tears.

"You Rang, Madam?" Chapter 2

by Julius
Copyright July 2007





Three days and not a hint from her that she even remembered what they had done or had planned to do. Not so much as a flicker of her pretty lashes. She treated him exactly as before, exactly as ladies treat butlers. He began almost to doubt that the wonderful first coupling had occurred at all.

Hudson met a hurriedly departing Sir Oliver in the hall.


“I’m late already Hudson,” he gestured behind him, “your mistress wants a word with you.”

“Very well Sir.” He turned and walked towards the breakfast room.

“Yes Madam?”

“Would you like some breakfast Hudson?”

“I’ve already eaten Madam, thank you.” An odd question he thought, a butler could hardly eat in the breakfast room.

“Well, I have a tasty little morsel for you if you’re still peckish.”

She got up from the long table and walked past him and locked the door. Her perfume swirled around him. He felt his body respond.

Returning, she pushed the linen cloth, and everything on it, down the table, turned, and sat on the bare wood.

He remembered endlessly polishing that table as a boy when his father had been butler.

She put her feet on the chair Sir Oliver had recently vacated and lay back.

“Come, sit down Hudson.” she moved one foot to give him room. He moved to the chair and sat. She put her foot back, her ankles pressed against his thighs.

She reached for the hem of her dress and began pulling it up.

“I fancy you are a stockings kind of man Hudson.”

His breath caught in his throat. “I am indeed Madam.”

With maddening slowness, she eased the fabric up her thighs. Stocking tops appeared and then the first glimmer of pale flesh. He heard himself swallow.

Finally she drew the skirt right up to her waist.

All she wore was a little pair of red panties. They were in perfect contrast to the whiteness of her skin. The fabric, shiny and tight, covered her mound. A slight crease defined her cleft. Not a wisp of hair showed.

Her hand moved and she touched herself in the centre of the red triangle. With the nail of her forefinger she scratched gently.

“Kiss her Hudson, kiss my pussy,” she said, her voice husky.

He couldn’t help asking quietly, “Is this the morsel of which you spoke Madam?”

“Yes Hudson it is.” There was a hint of laughter in her voice as she added, “Aren’t you hungry?”

He murmured, “Yes Madam, I do believe I am,” and bent over to kiss her.

The scent of her seemed to trigger his cock. Already swollen at the sight of her nakedness it now became rigid. Hudson wanted her at that moment more than he’d ever wanted any woman.

She moaned as his mouth pressed against her mound. He inhaled the wonderful mix of her musk and her perfume.

He could sense her hunger, feel it in the movement of her body. But surely, it could be no greater than his?

Poor Hudson, he was in danger of coming in his trousers. His trapped cock was a torment.

She splayed her knees. Hudson eased forward on the chair and slid his hands under her thighs. God but she smelled wonderful, he thought. With nose and mouth he nuzzled at her, loving the feel of her panties under his lips. He could feel the rasp of her pussy curls under the thin fabric.

She clutched at the waistband of the panties and squirmed her bottom on the table. In no time, the fabric was pulled deep between the lips of her pussy; she seemed about to cut herself in half. She tugged rhythmically, working the panties cruelly over her clitoris. Dark, auburn hair gleamed, red-gold, on either side of the cruelly tight strip of fabric.

She was breathing hard, a little mewing noise coming each time she exhaled.

Hudson’s teeth took hold of the soft, swollen flesh to one side of the panties and began to bite her gently.

“Oh yes Hudson, bite me, eat me, eat my pussy.”

He did as he was bid. But his cock throbbed inside his trousers. He wanted it out, to have her touch it, his cock needed comforting.

She pulled the panties to one side. They had turned dark red, almost black, at the crotch now with herwetness. She was open for him, her pussy gaped. It glistened with its own wetness. She was pink, every shade of pink. What a lovely thing, he thought.

“Appetizing?”

The one-word question made him smile and, by way of an answer, he pressed his mouth against her. He pursed his lips and gave her an audible kiss.

Raising his head for a moment he said, “Delicious Madam, there was never a tastier morsel.”

He took her gently from aroused to writhing and helpless. And he kept her there. He moved his hands and, with his thumbs, held her open. With his tongue tip he began to write the alphabet on the pages of her labia. After each letter he named it, tormenting her.


With delicious, excruciating slowness he worked his way through the alphabet. How he loved her wet, slick softness. Her pussy was made for kissing. Appetizing she was.

“M,” he told her and began to trace the letter N.

“For God’s sake Hudson, just let me come,” she begged.

He raised his head, “Madam?” Then he added, “Now I’ve forgotten where I was.”

He put his tongue to her pussy and gave her three gentle licks.

“A.” he said.

“You were at M!” she rolled her head from side to side and all but sobbed, “Please Hudson, no more teasing.”

His cock ached with his need. He stood and unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants and let them slide to the floor, his briefs followed.

She struggled up onto her elbows. “Hudson, what are you doing?”

He looked down at his cock, which waved, cobra-like. He gestured. “Setting this free Madam. I was in danger of … of … well, of coming in my underwear. You wouldn’t want that, would you Madam?”

She slumped back on the table. Her hand went to her pussy and her fingers went to work.

The delay had allowed him to regain a little control. He still wanted nothing more than to slide his cock into her but Madam had offered him breakfast and that lovely pinkness seemed to beg.

Hudson sat again and looked at her. She was abeautiful woman clothed, but, like this, somehow more than naked, she was irresistible.

He took her feet in his hands and gently lifted them. She rested her legs on his shoulders. Bending forward, he brought his lips to the top of her cleft and gently sucked her clit between his teeth.

She gasped and then her thighs clamped his head. He could hear nothing.

Suckling her clit, nipping it gently between his teeth, he felt her begin to writhe under him. He felt her hands grab his hair and her pussy answered his mouth’s attentions, grinding and humping up at him. He sensed her orgasm beginning, the grip of her thighs tightened; the squirming of her body under his face became frantic.

He slid his hands under her thighs and up around the sides of her bottom and, gripping the softness of her, pulled himself harder into her crotch. He forced his open mouth against her and worked his tongue over her labia and, into her, as far as he could. She was wet and getting wetter. Her struggles got more desperate as her climax rolled on. At last, she opened her thighs and he heard her, begging him to stop.

He released her, stood and helped her place her feet on the chair. He grinned down at her. Her face glistened with sweat and her chest heaved. She rolled her head from side to side.

“Why didn’t you stop when I told you Hudson?” Her tone of command, he thought, given her condition, was so like Madam and yet, so outrageous.

“Madam’s thighs were clamped over my ears,” he said, his grin broadening. “And Madam did seem to be enjoying herself.”

“I was,” she said, gasping for air, “I’ve never come like that in my life. Oh Hudson, I thought, I thought I would die when you didn’t stop.”

The was a discrete tapping outside the door and Agnes, the maid, asked timidly, “Is Madam alright?”

She and Hudson looked at each other for long seconds and the knock came again, a little louder.

“I’m perfectly alright Agnes, thank you.”

Hudson moved forward, guiding his cock towards his mistress’s crotch.

“No Hudson! Not now!” she hissed. “Agnes must have heard me.”

“I heard nothing Madam. Surely Madam would be discrete during her climax?” His cockhead nudged between thelips of her pussy and he heard her sharp intake of breath.

She gave a soft moan as a second inch of Hudson eased inside her wetness.

“No Hudson, we must stop. Hudson!”

But Hudson couldn’t stop. He slid his whole length deep into Madam. How hot she was, how exquisitely hot.

How he’d wanted to slide his cock into her! Now he was buried balls deep. He looked down, her wet panties were against the side of his cock and her pubic hair was all atangle with her juices and his saliva. Madam,was in delicious disarray.

His cock was rigid inside her as he stood and waited for her to say yes. He knew she would. He reached down and placed his splayed fingertips on her belly and caressed her clitoris with the ball of his thumb.

Her whole body twitched and she whispered, “Yes Hudson yes, fuck me!”





While he did, little Agnes peered through the crack between the double doors. She knelt and held her breath. How lovely Hudson's thrusting ass looked.





Madam writhed through another climax on the lovely polished mahogany, while Hudson emptied himself into her. They both tried to be quiet, it wasn’t easy.

"You Rang, Madam?" Chapter 1

By Julius
Copyright June 2007



“You rang madam?”

“Yes Hudson, I rang.”

“What is it madam?”

She stood, hands resting on the back of the sofa, her back to the window.

“Come over here and lift my dress up at the back.”

“Madam!” his voice registered his shock.

“Well?” her voice registered mild irritation. Hudson stood just inside the door, as if rooted to the spot.

“Madam… madam I can’t… I couldn’t.” The unflappable Hudson was very flustered.

“Hudson, you can and you will,” her voice softened suddenly, “surely you’d like to lift up the back of Madam’s dress?”

“No Madam!”

“I’m told I have a very pretty bottom, a bottom a man would like to look at.”

“Madam, this is unfair.”

“Oh come Hudson, I’ve seen you glancing at lady visitors with lust in those unsmiling eyes of yours.”

“Never Madam!”

“Oh yes Hudson. And at my bosom when I wear something a little daring.”

“Madam, I assure you …”

“Hudson, I’m teasing you.”

He relaxed a little. But she wasn’t finished.

“So, come and lift up my dress and give me your opinion. Come tell me I have a pretty bottom.”

Hudson swallowed audibly and ventured, “Madam, I can tell you from here.”

“But I’d like you to make sure!”

Her voice had a commanding ring to it and three generations of Hudsons-in-service seemed to nudge him forward. Before he could check himself he had crossed the room to stand behind his mistress.

“That’s better. Now, tell me what you think.”

Slowly, carefully, he reached out and lifted the hem, exposing her white skin to the sunlight streaming in through the window.

“Well?”

Hudson swallowed and said in a loud whisper, “It is a very pretty bottom indeed Madam.”

“How pretty Hudson? Is it a bottom to be admired?”

Her panties were brief, flimsy, pink things, crossing the hemispheres of her ass, exposing more than they covered. He felt drawn to touch, perhaps even to kiss.

“Are you just telling me what you think I want to hear?”

“No Madam,” he sounded shocked that she would ever doubt his word, “it is a perfect bottom, firm and soft and...” He stopped, sensing he’d said too much.

“How can you know it’s firm and soft Hudson? Perhaps you’d like to feel it to make sure?”

“Oh no Madam,” he blurted.

“Oh yes Hudson,” she said quietly, “I think perhaps you should make sure.”

He was tiring a little of the game she was playing. His cock was erect and the sight of her ass and her panties was so very, very tempting. He reached out and ran his hand over a buttock.

He heard her intake of breath and steeled himself for a rebuke. None came.

“Do you realise Hudson that I am very, very aroused.”

Another shock. He’d not have expected to hear her tell him something like that, not ever.

“I’ve been thinking about this moment for so very long. I need you Hudson. I need you to … I need you to, to fuck me.”

“Madam!” He was shocked to the core by what she had said and her use of that word.

She ignored him and went on, “My husband needs an heir Hudson and I’ve yet to produce one. We’ve had all the tests and poor Oliver is short on his sperm count, very short.”

“I see Madam.”

“Do you Hudson? Just look upon this as a service to the family, if you must.”

“If you put it that way Madam.”

“Yes Madam, no Madam! For heaven’s sake Hudson, I thought you’d love trying to get your mistress with child.”

He looked down at his hand, still resting on that lovely buttock. There was nothing he’d like more.

“Madam, I’d be delighted to try.” He caressed her, letting his fingers dip down and venture between the tops of her thighs. “And Madam does have the most exquisite bottom.”

She shivered and squirmed under his hand. “Thank you Hudson, I’d rather hoped you’d like it.”

When she turned to face him he was sure he could feel the heat of her arousal. She dropped to her knees and reached for his fly.

“Madam!”

“Hush Hudson, let me do this.” She said the words softly as she fumbled with his zipper.

Letting her struggle his erect cock out was a sweet agony. Embarrassment and sense of station fought with arousal. Arousal began winning.

Finally she had him free and he looked down in utter disbelief as she gripped his cock in her small hand and stared at it.

“Hudson! It’s beautiful. I think it will be perfect for the job.”

“Thank you Madam,” he paused, “Why me Madam?”


"Why Hudson?” she paused and smiled up at him, “because I can’t imagine giving myself to any of the awful men in our so-called circle of friends.”

She slid her hand down to the root of his cock and reached out with the other. Just the head of Hudson’s cock peeped out.

“Isn’t this what they call a two hander Hudson?”

“I think I’m quite normally endowed Madam,” he said, wishing she’d stop tormenting him, but enjoying it immensely.

She giggled. “Normally endowed, normally endowed. Hudson you are a stuffy soul. You’ve got a lovely big cock, just perfect for stuffing in my cunt.”

Hudson was speechless.

“Shocked you did I?” She got to her feet and with her face an inch from his, said, “Cunt Hudson, cunt, cunt, cunt, cock, cock, cock.”

She put her arms around him and ground her belly against his erection. “I’ve never said those words before Hudson. Cock and cunt, that’s what you and I are, for the next however-long-it-takes. My cunt and your cock.”

“Of course Madam,” he said, but this time there was humour in his voice and he was smiling.

“Would you like to see what makes the cleavage you’re always ogling?”

“Madam, I don’t ogle.”

“Hudson, you are an wicked ogler. Now, unbutton me.”

She moved a little away from him and thrust out her bosom slightly, by way of invitation.

He’d all but surrendered to her scheme now and he reached out and began unfastening the buttons of her blouse. Madam wasn’t as in control as she had been. He could hear her rapid, nervous breathing, her breasts rose and fell, keeping time deliciously. Hudson could feel her heat on his face.

“Your hands are trembling Hudson,” she told him.

“Yes Madam.”

She dropped a hand and it grasped his rigid cock. “You’re very aroused too Hudson.”

“And you Madam,” he said, asserting himself for the first time, “aren’t you just a little eager too?“

“Eager? Eager Hudson? If I told you just how eager I am you’d be ashamed of me.”

The last button came undone and he opened the blouse. Her bra was white and lacy and perhaps a little too small. She was heavy breasted, too big she knew, but, as she watched Hudson gazing at her, she knew he saw no fault.

“Well Hudson?”

“Magnificent Madam, magnificent.”

She gave his cock a painful squeeze and Hudson gasped.

“Not too big? I think they’re too big.”

“They, are, beautiful Madam,” he told her, emphasisng each word.

She reached a hand behind one of the cushions on the sofa and produced a small bottle. She handed it to him and, reaching behind, she undid the hooks on her bra.

Hudson watched in delighted disbelief as she let the bra slide off her breasts. She had big, big breasts and big nipples.

“You’re going to fuck my tits Hudson. How does that sound, coming from your Mistress’s mouth Hudson? You’re going to fuck my tits.”

For the second time she got to her knees in front of him. She took the bottle from his hand and squirted lubricant between her breasts. Then, cupping her hands under them she held them apart and moved towards him on her knees.

When his cock was nudging her chest she pressed her breasts together, trapping it between them.

Hudson thrust, how could he not?

Eyes closed, he slowly tit-fucked her - that was the word in his head - tit-fucked. He put his hands on her shoulders. She forced her breasts together. Both had their eyes closed. Both registered their enjoyment with sighs and groans.

She loved the thrust of his hardness, the pressures on her breasts from plunging cock and squeezing hands. She squeezed until it hurt, making herself tight for him. Her nipples jutted alarmingly. His cockhead peeped and hid, peeped and hid in that cleavage.

Hudson was in heaven. What he was doing and who he was doing it to. God but she was lovely, he thought her breasts the most beautiful things in the world and, having his cock between them? … beyond his wildest imaginings.

Suddenly he felt the first uncoiling sensation of orgasm. “Oh God!”

She drew away, terrified they’d gone too far. Madam wanted Hudson inside her for that, inside.

They both stared down at his glistening cock. Hudson willing himself not to come, she afraid that he would. The end of his cock lifted gently just once and a single pulse of white come drooled out and fell to the carpet.

“Oh no!” she said softly.

But no more. No uncontrolled spurting from Hudson's cock.

“It’s alright Madam, it’s alright, we can still … we can still ...”

“You mean we can still fuck Hudson,” there was relief and delight in her voice.

She was very close to tears at that moment. She needed to conceive. But at that moment, the need between her legs was for gratification. Madam needed that cock.

She turned away and bracing her hands on the back of the sofa and thrust out that pretty bottom.

“Well Hudson, pull down my panties and fuck me.”

“Yes Madam.”

No reluctance now, he lifted her skirt again and tucked it into its own waistband. He swore he could hear his own heartbeat as he pulled her panties down. They were trapped between her buttocks and up in her crotch. Despite his eagerness, he savoured peeling them out. Her spread legs stopped him getting the scrap of nylon past her knees.

She dipped at the waist, tipping her bottom higher. The cloven swell of her pussy peeped out at Hudson, a delicious invitation.

Still fully clothed, his cock jutting out, Hudson moved close and guided himself between the tops of her thighs.

His cock was still slippery with the lubricant from between her breasts and her pussy was slick and ready with her arousal. He slid into her so easily, the hot knife and the soft butter.

Hudson buried his full length into her and she sighed her joy. She was hot, incredibly so, seeming to scald his cock.

He reached round, under her, needing to touch, to cup her lovely breasts.

“Hudson, this is beautiful, how good it feels.”

“Yes Madam, it does.” There was humour in his words. They sounded ridiculous and there was a strange satisfaction in the mistress-servant situation.

He released her breasts and his hands slid to her hips. The thrusting began. His cock filled her. Its length and girth perfect for her soft tightness. As it thrust and withdrew, thrust and withdrew, she felt the wonderful emptying and filling. Empty, full, empty,full, the one a beautiful ache, the other a perfect satisfaction.

She answered with thrusts of her own. She became more desperate as his urgency grew. She was the impaled, he the impaler. She was writhing and bucking as if to tear his cock off inside her. He thrust and slammed, careless of hurting or bruising her.

They came together, gasping and sobbing. She felt his cock spasm and swell as he gushed into her. Her pussy clutched and rippled, milking him like a hot, hungry mouth.

Finally, spent, he rested on her back gasping for air, feeling weak and wonderful.

She took his weight happily. She was filled with his juices. Her orgasm had been a wonderful, terrible thing. How she’d longed for that cock inside her.

Hudson had been everything she’d hoped he’d be. Again? Certainly. Soon? Very soon. Many times. As many times as it took, More times than it took. Happiness welled in her. She scissored her thighs, Madam was on cloud nine.


Hudson crossed the room, his legs still a little unsteady, he was still breathing hard.

“Thank you Hudson.”

He turned at the door, “Will that be all Madam?”

“No it won’t Hudson,“ she smiled a very feminine smile, “perhaps tomorrow?”

“Certainly Madam.”

She felt a trickle between her thighs. Damn, she must lie down, get her hips elevated.

“Madam?”

“Yes Hudson.”

“Yours is indeed a very pretty bottom.”

Outside the drawing room, Hudson leaned his back against the door, closed his eyes and smiled. He’d almost mentioned his long-ago vasectomy.

He pictured her pretty, pretty bottom, beckoning over the coming weeks and months. And the lovely rest of her.

Madam would be ringing again soon, he was sure.