“Now,” said the red-faced man in the deep-bottomed wig, “you are to say only ‘yes, mistress’ and ‘no, mistress, ‘ no other words. You understand?”
“Yes, sir,” I said with a polite bow.
He nodded and drank, pleased with himself I suppose. “And you are to do exactly as you are told, no hesitation, no evasion.”
“Yessir,” I said, knuckling my forehead.
The four women watched from behind him, barely hiding their amusement. His wife, her sister, and his daughter, none of them more than twenty-five years I was sure and all staring at me with hunger. Their maid, a black woman of indeterminate years, also looked amused.
“You will receive ten shillings at the end of each month, two meals each day and Gracie will make you a place to sleep out in the stable where she and her man live.” The gentleman pursed his lips. “Can’t think of anything else. Don’t come in the house again unless you are asked.” He waved me off.
I bowed and hurried away, afraid my swelling member would soon be obvious. The maid caught up with me in the back yard.
“Now you are in for it,” she said with a laugh. “Them girls is gonna wear you out. They’s already a’plotting with dare calendar.”
I had been hired as driver and watchmen of the women’s travels to market and on social calls. My job was to care for the team and carriage and to be alert, day and night, keeping the females from harm.
I was working on the carriage, checking and greasing the axle stubs, when the man’s wife appeared in the carriage-house doorway. She lifted an eyebrow and beckoned me with her forefinger.
“Now,” she said, taking a deep breath that was very revealing since her dress was so low-cut, “you understood his rules. Let me tell you ours and then I will answer your questions.” She led me to a large tool box and sat down beside me, her hand on my thigh, patting me with familiarity. “Big as you are, you could probably do all three of us every day, but...” She hesitated and smiled at me. “You do like women, don’t you?”
I nodded. and she said, “Good. He is away in the city almost every day so before our main meal, you will be asked to serve one of us in an upstairs bedroom. We have a large supply of French letters, skin sheaths, so you will not have to interrupt your rogering, and we would much rather you did not.”
I licked my lips and nodded, feeling my ram rising.
“When any of us says ‘enough, ‘ that is what we mean and you are to stop as quickly as you can.” She smiled at me. “I do understand it may not be immediately.
“Every day?” I asked.
“Not Sunday. He is home. We go to meeting. And we often have company, but nearly every other day I hope.” She patted my leg. “My sister, Patty, she is rather inexperienced so do be gentle with her. And Susie, my husband’s youngest child is only seventeen, but she has had several lovers, striplings, all of them.”
“Your Sunday company,” I said, “usually men from the city, Redcoats and Hessians I assume.”
She nodded. “Just stay out of sight.”
“If I cannot hear their conversations, will you or one of the others report what is said?”
She wrinkled her forehead.
“I’m a spy, you know, an odd sort of spy,” I told her. “I serve Gen’l Washington and the Continental Congress.”
She nodded and smiled. “I was aware of that. Because of the chimney, you can sit in my upstairs room and hear as well as if you were in the parlor.”
“Thank you,” I said, “that will do fine.”
“I’ll see to it that some wine and cheese are available.”
We shook hands and smiled at each other.
“I must tell you,” I said, “I am usually at my best early in the morning, first thing after rising.”
“There is a room in the attic,” she said, looking puzzled, “we could put you there. He’d never know.”
“I could do two a day,” I said.
“Or the same woman twice. We’ll shall discuss it.” She stood. “Come, I drew the short straw and will be first to suffer your beastly lust.”
I laughed and rose, folded her in my arms and kissed her sweetly.
In her bedroom, she showed me the hearth she had spoken of and the rod that opened the flue. Then we quickly disrobed, tumbled into her soft bed, and pleasured each other vigorously. Pausing to rest after she has spasmed and arched under me for the second time, we lay side by side, holding hands.
“My old friend, Madam Von R--, certainly knows what she is about,” the woman said. “That was as fine a swiving as I have ever enjoyed.”
“Aye,” I gasped, well spent.
“And you think yourself better in the dawn?” she asked nuzzling my shoulder.
“Usually,” I managed to say.
She reached for my flaccid member. “I can hardly wait.”
By Sunday, I had served all three women once to our mutual pleasure, and very early on Sunday morning was roused from my sleep by the man’s daughter, who let her nightgown slip to the floor as she stood smiling beside my attic bed. I pulled her under the covers and we let our mouths join. Her exploring hand grabbed my thick phallus and then her other hand joined the first.
“I don’t think I’m ready for that,” she said, stroking me gently.
I kissed her again. “Let’s try,” I said, exploring her with my fingers and finding her wet and warm. I lifted her leg above mine and she put my prong where it wanted to be. I grabbed her buttocks with both hands and pulled us together.
Her eyes got very wide and her mouth fell open as my blunt-headed pole spread her, battered her yielding flesh aside and delved deeply into her. Her muscles grasped and shivered as we heaved at each other, and I lay back and pulled her atop me. Her legs flopped down beside mine, and she lay upon my chest, breathing hard and grinding our pubic bones together.
“Feels like its at the base of my throat,” she said quietly as we lay, nearly motionless except for what my root was doing inside her.
I petted her and practiced unusual patience. “Who’s coming to dine today?”
“Naval officers, four or five of them, so I’m told,” she sighed out. “I really don’t think I can do this.”
She convulsed on me, shuddering and lubricating us both. I helped her rise, pulled her knees up into my ribs, held her hips and smiled at her. Her small, pointed breasts jutted out when she took a deep breath.
“Now,” I said, slapping her butt sharply, “ride me.”
After she came while posting, she fell forward and put her hands on my shoulders, rocking back and forth on the thick spear within her. And after she came again, she collapsed on me, and I held her and whispered to her until we were both sated and exhausted.
That afternoon I sat in the bedroom of the lady of the house with some foolscap on my lap and took notes about planned naval movements and much braggadocio. The party seemed to grow louder and louder as time went on and, I supposed, wine disappeared and then I heard a squawk and very loud, “Don’t,” a squeal and then two voices called my name, nearly together.
Down the stairs I ran and into the dining room where the three well-dressed women were wrestling with a half-dozen darkly uniformed men.
“Stop at once,” I yelled as loudly as I could. The men turned toward me, growling, as the girls pulled free and huddled in the far corner, grasping clothes to their bosoms and pushing at their disordered curls. “This thing is loaded with buckshot,” I said, waving my empty pistol at them. “It will turn you into mincemeat.”
Leonora, the lady of the house, stepped forward. “Yes,” she said primly, “I’m afraid you must leave. You are no longer welcome in this house.”
I looked around for her husband, but he evidently had gone to visit the privy when the melee began. He now appeared behind me, sputtering and demanding to know what was going on. His wife explained briefly, and he turned to face me.
“Put that away, you fool,” he said, brushing my pistol aside, “I’m sure the captain will apologize for this misunderstanding. Let us adjourn to the parlor.”