Chapter 1

Mercy Goodnight was a wisp of a girl with dancing feet and toes that never seemed to stop moving either day or night when there was work to be done. She never flinched from the prospect of hard labor and never shirked from getting her hands dirty in the operations of her father’s popular Inn on the outskirts of the bustling mid-sized town not far from a prestigious university of higher learning easily recognizable just from whispering its name.

The innkeeper’s daughter had aspirations of becoming a student in that university ever since she could remember but she knew her father was on the edge of financial ruin on a day to day basis and her prospect of ever walking down those hallowed halls was slim to none.

Besides, she had two older brothers that must take their proper place in the line of educating “Goodnights” in the overall scheme of things. They both were handsome lads and despite a certain lack of academic versatility, they managed to maintain a high enough grade to avoid being sent down as student failures. Mercy was happy for them because it would allow them to continue their hobbies of pursuing the female students and lifting their skirts to do whatever young boys did to girls when other people were not in the vicinity. She knew it must have been something very nice because the silly girls had such beautiful smiles of contentment on their faces as they walked back to their dormitory rooms after Billy and Bob Goodnight actually said,

“Goodnight!”

Young mistress Mercy had been accosted on several occasions by travelers staying at the inn thinking that she was just one of the servant girls sent to clean the place or service their special needs as a paying guest. She didn’t mind the inconvenience and found their interest a complete mystery because she had no bosom to speak of and her rump was certainly too big for the currently preferred neat little packages for a gentleman’s nocturnal pleasure. Of course, she did have a stage play face of stunning features that inspired most males to reach out and cup her overly generous flanks just to see the reaction in her bottomless hazel eyes.

In all honesty, she much preferred the gentle patting of her hard working buttocks rather than the French style pinch that seemed so popular in these hedonistic times. She found that the older men had more skill in such matters than the crudely eager young men with rude hands and inquisitive fingers. She seldom claimed disqualification from such treatment because she was the only daughter of the inn’s owner and not some common female chosen for employment simply because she was both attractive and of a friendly nature that presented a submissive attitude to overtures of a kind that even the naïve Mercy was quite aware of in an amused but cooperative display of feminine charm.

Generally, she was able to take care of her own problems without calling in her father to help her out and managed to mollify the gentlemen without causing them embarrassment in any way or manner. She had discovered that the power of a promise delivered with a smile did a lot more to calm the guest than any protest of manhandling behind a closed bedchamber door. She had to admit that on more than one occasion, she had been tempted to allow the gentleman guest to proceed with his program of showing her the extent of his intentions. That was shamefully due more to the size of his waving manhood than his figure or his attractiveness of face.

She had gone to the extent of bending over and holding her ankles in one case of a joyfully impressive member and had even allowed the older man “in his cups” to rub his pleasing shaft all over her unpracticed flanks like a boyfriend with familiar expectations. It had awakened something primeval deep in her feminine core and she managed a satisfactory tingle even though he actually never reached her entryway before his explosion of creamy stickiness that forced her to laugh at her own level of terribly weak character.

She had become accustomed to watching more than participating, if for no other reason than to discover by visual experimentation the correct way of pleasuring a male person’s need for copulation in various positions that boggled her mind and with strange ritualistic nuances that well-behaved young girls simply did not discuss in mixed company. Eventually, young Mercy was exposed to all the devious ways men and women interacted in nocturnal privacy without actually being a participant in the nasty business of spreading her less than enthusiastic knees.

In fact, the sensitive and innocent appearing young innkeeper’s daughter became quite famous for her “handy” efforts to bring swift relief to weary male travelers more interested in achieving a speedy “tingle” than to brag of their exploits behind closed doors. They generally accepted her “milking” efforts as their reward for gentlemanly behavior and dropped off to a night of relaxed rest and recuperation before resuming their journey to wherever they were headed when they arrived. Of course, she kept her hidden efforts to please the male guests a secret because it would impart too much knowledge of her lack of moral character in such matters.

The genial innkeeper remained totally in the dark about his promiscuous daughter’s extra services and assumed she was constantly shriven in guiltless state of grace.

Mercy was assigned to tend to the needs of a Spanish lady of quality and her dashing son resplendent in colorful brocades like some bullfighter of merit and idol of hordes of simpering female fans commenting on the slimness of his agile hips.

The entourage consisted of the mother and son and several servants attending to their needs on their foreign journey though the English countryside.

Mercy was delighted to help change her ladyship’s fine clothing and she was most tender in releasing the constraint of the high-quality corset and other shape defining undergarments. Then, she helped draw the hot bath for the upper class noblewoman and assisted her to submerge her corpulent figure into the refreshing water. Once under the water, only her long delicate neck and her pretty face and coiffed hair were outstanding along with just the tips of her buxom breasts breaking the surface with extended nipples uncertain of which direction to take. The warmth of the bath water was enticing to be sure, but, then again, the cooler afternoon air in the shaded room welcomed the quivering rosebuds with a promise of gentle cleansing.