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This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental. The ideas and thoughts that follow are pure fantasies. In real life, at the very least they would be unpleasant and probably illegal. Fantasies are like that; daydreams where we can contemplate and imagine the sensations without suffering or inflicting the pain, despair or humiliation.
© obohobo 2012
Hearing the noise from an oncoming cart, Lord Cameron McCauley waited before emerging from the woods on to the lane. Recognising the young driver and angry at the reckless way he whipped and urged the pony to even greater speed without any thought for the wellbeing of the cart and its contents, his first instinct was to give chase but he realised even with his thoroughbred mare's superior speed, they would be at the Manor before he caught up. "It will be easier to tan the little bugger's arse when I get back than to have an altercation in the open," he decided.
A few yards further on, the boy whooped and yelled and waved his horsewhip and brought it down across the back of a peasant woman who'd stepped to on to the verge to allow the cart to pass. The whip's impact, aided by the speed of the cart, sent her into the muddy ditch that ran alongside the lane. The cart sped on. His anger rising, Lord McCauley alighted from his mare and assisted the woman, or as he now saw, a young girl, from the ditch and on to her feet. Wet, bedraggled and crying, she tried to thank him but he stopped her and asked, "Where would a young lady be going on this lonely road? Are you lost?"
"I intended to go to go to Kidlintonhope Manor, Sir, and I pray I am on the right way but in this state, I must find somewhere to dry out and get clean. They'll never accept me in this state."
Noting her strong Newcastle accent and unfamiliar pronunciation, he remarked, "You are certainly a very long way from home, why are you going to the Manor?"
"My grandfather, Gregory Kinrade, said if I mentioned his name, Lord Alistair McCauley would give me a position there, Sir."
"Lord Alistair, my father, died a couple of years ago and I'm the owner now, Lord Cameron McCauley. I'm sure there's a story behind this because I vaguely remember his mentioning a Kinrade and you must have had good reason to come the hundreds of miles to Shropshire from almost as far north in England as you can get. But you're shivering in wet clothes and the April wind is none too warm and the story can wait until later, I'll send someone to pick you up and it won't be the boy who drove the cart."
"What state is the pony in, Jack?" Cameron asked the elderly groom.
"I was just trying to rub the sweat off her when you arrived Sir, she'd been run overly hard and her rear is mighty tender. I'll need to keep her off work for a bit and then she may be shy of getting between the shafts again."
"And the cart?"
"I don't know about that, Sir, when I saw the state of the pony, I unhitched her and they'll have to push the cart back. The lad wouldn't even walk the pony around for a bit to cool her slowly so I had to do that and then I saw you a coming."
"He'll find it difficult to walk when I've done with him," his Lordship muttered after examining the pony's rear, "Tell them to let me know of any damage to the cart so I have all the evidence when I confront him. Not that I need much evidence except the evidence of my own eyes."
"What have we here then?" Mrs. Faulks, the housekeeper grinned at the wet, scarecrow figure when one of the gardeners who'd collected her from the roadside, assisted her into the kitchen, "What's your name dearie?"
"Mabilia, Mabilia Kinrade, Ma'am, but most calls me Mabel." From her pronunciation, the woman, and those listening, heard it as 'Marble' and it wasn't long before they shortened it to 'Marb'.
The housekeeper, the cook and maids in the kitchen laughed at her speech. "You sure talk funny dearie, are you a from foreign parts?"
"Well his lordship seems to have taken a liking to you and gave orders for you to be bathed and fed and given a maid's dress and then you're to see him in a hour."
"So, Burrows," Lord McCauley addressed the boy standing very nervously in front of his desk, " I have to deal with you on a number of counts, all of which are serious and any one of them would have earned you a thrashing. By all accounts you went into Drycombe and collected the goods we ordered but then retired to the Three Feathers and filled your gut with beer and we have yet to check whether you spent your own money or purloined some from the housekeeping intended to pay for the goods, then, finding you had stayed overly long, made haste to get back regardless of who or what was on the road. Do you realise that had I come out of the woods a few seconds earlier, I and my horse would be dead and you could expect to swing from the gallows if you survived the crash? Then there's the way you mistreated my property, my pony and my cart. Both are going to need care and attention and be out of service for a while, the cart for some time because one wheel has to go to the wheelwright and he'll charge an arm and a leg for the repair. If that wasn't enough, you sort to strike a young woman with a horsewhip cutting her clothing and leaving a deep welt across her back, around her right arm and into her breasts. She will suffer painfully for many days because of it. Presumably you thought it a fun thing to do, but you won't find our treatment quite so funny. For these crimes you must be severely punished and I see no alternative but to have your back and buttocks soundly birched as some recompense for the whipping of the pony and the girl. Afterwards I had a mind to send you off the premises to seek work elsewhere, if you could find it without references, but I decided that you are young and the birching may be sufficient to mend your ways. This is only the second time I've ordered a birching since father died and the previous crime was far less serious and I feel I am being lenient when I'm ordering Mr. Kerrison to apply thirty-six strokes and your wages will be stopped until you are able to work properly again. That should ensure you keep out of the inn for a while."
Burrows begged, pleaded and made wild promises as to his future behaviour but his Lordship rang a bell and forewarned, two men appeared, "Take him to the cellar and fasten him naked to the bench and tell Mr. Kerrison when you are done, he already has my instructions and should have the birches prepared. You are to witness the punishment and release him when the lacerations have been treated."
Kerrison enjoyed this part of his work and loved the sense of power his status as the Manor disciplinarian gave him when he had a boy or, preferably, a girl stretched out naked and helpless on the bench. For him, it didn't happen often enough and if it did, it was rare for the recipient to be awarded more than a dozen strokes of the strap. Even that made them holler but today he could give a boy a real thrashing, one that he'd remember for the rest of his life and unlike when he'd a maid to chastise, with the boy there'd be no reduction for being invited to his bed at night. He'd make sure all the strokes landed soundly.
Struggling to hold Burrows, the two footmen managed, with Kerrison's help, to get him on the punishment bench and stripped naked. "Stand well out of the way, his Lordship wants his backside flailed to make up for the injuries this boy caused to the pony and you know how he feels about mistreatment to his horses. He also seems to think the same way about that foreign lass that arrived, as well as the damage to his cart," he explained to the footmen, "Don't think of interfering because I can make your lives less easy here too."
Flicking the residual brine from the supple, bound, birch twigs, Kerrison brought the formidable instrument crashing across the back of the boy's thighs. Burrows screamed and yelled and began to cry loudly as Kerrison unmercifully worked the wicked birch further along the boy's body until by the eighteenth stroke he'd reached his shoulders. Changing to a fresh birch and standing on the other side of the bench, Kerrison continued flogging the now raw flesh, back down the boy's back until once more, by the thirty-sixth stroke he reached his thighs. Small trickles of blood ran down either side where the tip of the birch twigs cut and nipped the flesh and by then Burrows lay barely conscious of his surroundings and hardly registered that the whipping had stopped.
"We has to inform the master when you've finished, Mr. Kerrison, so he can send someone to clean him up," Travers, the older of the two footmen stated and left the room.
"Come in," his Lordship responded to Clara's knock, "Sit down Mabilia, you may stay Clara otherwise there is no telling what sort of garbled story the kitchen staff will make up."
"Thank you, Sir, ' the two girls curtseyed and responded.
"First, Mabilia Kinrade, let me introduce my wife, Lady Rosalind McCauley, like me, she is keen to hear your story and your reasons for travelling so far to get to this manor. Why did you not find employment in Newcastle?
"Sir, it was my grandfather's wish that I should get away from the smoke and grime and coal dust of Newcastle and live in the cleaner air of the open countryside and present myself to your father."
"And your grandfather is?"
Gregory Kinrade, Sir. He and my grandmother, Colleen, brought me up because mother died at my birth without ever revealing father's identity, if she knew it. Grandmother told me that oft times she took men into her house, mainly seamen ashore for a few days, I therefore kept the family name of Kinrade. Gran died a couple of years ago and granddaddy didn't enjoy the best of health in the last few months. About two months ago, Captain Austin of the barque, "Felicity" paid us one of his regular visits when the barque docked in Newcastle and granddaddy, knowing he hadn't long to live, told us this tale."
"Many years ago, when I was a lad of seventeen, I joined the Lancers and went to fight the French in Spain, the Peninsular War, they called it. Lord Alistair McCauley was the Captain of my regiment and we were in the middle of a hand engagement when a Frenchman stabbed his right thigh and would have finished him off had I not plunged my bayonet into his chest first. I had to kill two others before I could drag him to a quiet area and carry him to the safety of our camp. I took a bullet in the shoulder only yards from our destination but managed to get there. Neither of our wounds healed properly and eventually we were shipped home but we became friends whilst in hospital and Alistair, he wasn't a Lord then, promised to help me in any way he could for saving his life. At the time he lived on an estate in Scotland and I visited several times until he decided sell it to move to Shropshire where he said the farmland grew better crops for less work. We kept in touch with occasional letters but I haven't heard from him for a while."
"Ah, I remember the story as father told it," Lord McCauley interrupted, "He praised the bravery of your grandfather in getting him out of the battle zone and I remember seeing the scar on his thigh on a number of occasions. Please carry on."
"At the meeting with Captain Austin, he asked, "When I die, will you kindly take Mabilia to Bristol on one of your trips and set her on the road for Shropshire for me?" That's what happened. It took two weeks on the water because we took coal to London and manure to Bristol for the farms and then he loaded Welsh coal to take back to London."
"You didn't consider the railway?" her ladyship asked.
"No Ma'am, too expensive and I wished to keep a little money in case I had to find work elsewhere."
"Do you know anything about the origin of your name, Mabilia?
"Only that it is an old Northumberland name not much used now but the wives of several notable men were named Mabilia but why mother decided on that before I was born and she died, I do not know, Ma'am."
"How bad is her whiplash, Clara?" Her Ladyship asked the question, knowing she would get a more accurate answer from the maid rather than the girl herself.
"Nasty Ma'am. It's deep and raw across her back and the welt across her breasts will be sore for a while. She'll only be able to do light work for a bit because she finds it painful to lift her arms or carry anything heavy. We put Cook's salve on and that seems to have eased her pain a little."
"I'm sure Burrows is also feeling sore now too," Lord Cameron commented, "Unfasten the top of her uniform please Clara, so we can see for ourselves."
Already a number of people, men and women, had seen her naked when the maids cleaned her in the scullery and each time she'd blushed and she blushed again when Clara rotated her and moved her hands to show her breasts and the marks across them. His Lordship took in the sight of the well-risen, firm mounds with the protruding nipples more than the stripes across them. "Nice looking lass, medium height and no puppy fat, dark hair and cheerful round face, I'll bed her tomorrow after she's had the Cook's brew," he thought. "How old are you, Mabilia?"
"Fifteen a few months ago, Sir."
"Old enough to be married. Have you been told of your duties here?"
"Yes, Sir, I am familiar with some of them and am willing to learn."
"Did they explain that you will be expected to spend some nights in my bed and the beds of my sons?"
"Yes, Sir, but I've not done that before. Capt'n Austin explained that too but made sure the crew didn't defile me but won't your wife... ?"
Lady McCauley laughed, "No dear, when he takes a maid, I usually have one of the men. Just make sure each morning you take the drink the Cook makes so you don't start a baby in your belly."
"So that you know Burrows was punished, not just for whipping you but more so for damaging my property, Clara will take you to the punishment room and you will clean him and treat his birching wounds. After that Mrs. Faulks or Cook will set you work and Clara can keep an eye on you until you become familiar with the place," Lord McCauley ordered.
"Come on, Marb, this won't a pleasant job but best get it over with." Clara carried the heavy jug of warm water while Mabilia brought the bowl, sponge and salve.
Travers and Freeman, the two men who'd brought him to the cellar, followed them down. "We'll leave him fastened until you've done Clara. The new girl, is she up to seeing a bit of blood or is she like Kate, and falls on the floor?" Travers asked.
"We'll soon find out."
Having seen many sailors with injuries caused by the rough life at sea, she wasn't at all squeamish but, like Clara, expressed her horror at the severity of the punishment. "He got more because of the way he treated the pony than for whipping you," Freeman commented, "His Lordship hates to see his animals badly treated."
Even treating the wounds as gently as they could caused Burrows to scream and swear and although he knew Mabilia wasn't responsible for his thrashing, he wanted to take his revenge on her, but for that he would bide his time. The girls were gathering their washcloths and utensils when the men released Burrows and for the first time, Mabilia saw an erect penis. She'd seen her grandfather's when they'd all bathed in the tin tub in front of the fire on a Friday night and, when near the end she'd washed him, but mostly that lay soft on his thighs, the prick before her stood out from his body rigid and hard. Living and attending school in an urban environment she, of course, knew why this happened and wondered if, when his Lordship summoned her to his bed, his would be just as hard and stiff to penetrate her. She found out the next night.
Carrying the small towel Clara had given her to keep any blood from the sheets, Mabilia stood anxiously outside the master's bedroom door and hesitatingly knocked on the solid oak panel. Since being told at dinner to attend him at 10 o'clock her mind went through all she'd been told, from stories she'd heard from down-to-earth teenagers in Newcastle and Captain Austin's gruff but graphical explanation of male/female intercourse, which he said the aristocracy called rogering, to Clara's more intimate advice and help when she prepared her. "His lordship's is good for a girl's first fuck, he takes his time and lasts a long while but his manhood is larger than many so best if we put a little sperm whale oil in your opening so it slides in easier," she said, "Mustn't put too much in though because he doesn't like the smell. If he lets you stay the night in his bed, he'll do you again in the morning and without the pain of the first entry, you should find it more enjoyable. Good job one of the younger sons wasn't allowed to have you because they only worry about their own pleasure and do it fast and furiously, which is fine when you get used to it but not when they have to break a girl in. Stuart, the oldest rarely asks for anyone." She went on to explain what might happen when the master invited her into the bedroom.
To Mabilia's surprise, Lady Rosalind stood in the room alongside her husband. Like Mabilia, she wore a nightgown but hers showed a greater amount of breast flesh and cleavage. "I like to see Cameron perform with the new girls especially on the rare occasions when they are virgins and I assist where necessary."
Again, to her surprise, they didn't ask her to undress immediately but spent a little time talking more, according to her ladyship, to hear her quaint way of speaking as well as finding out how she settled in to life at the manor, but soon enough the master asked her to remove her nightgown. "That welt still looks raw and painful," he commented and gently touched traced it outline where it had cut into her breasts, "But I understand that Burrows is in an even worst state and won't be fit for work for several weeks. Kerrison sometimes overdoes things. Now let's get down to business." Shucking off his robe, he stood before Mabilia with his erection jutting out hard and strong from his body. "I presume Clara told you what to do?"
"Yes, Sir. She said to suck it and get it nice and wet, if you allowed it." He nodded his agreement and knowing it to be for her benefit hesitated only a second or two before kneeling and taking it into her mouth and following Clara's advice, laved it with her tongue until her spittle well coated the helmet and shaft. Lady Rosalind commented and gave advice too and before long Mabilia felt her cunnie flowing with moisture and her body flushed in anticipation of her first sexual experience, something she'd only read about, something she'd only heard tell of from other girls and women, something she'd only experienced when her fingers massaged her mound in bed and would soon feel for real. Would he give her the pleasure they'd told about or would the pain of entry make it an unpleasant experience?
Moments later, following the Master's instructions, she lay on her back, legs spread and his prick rubbed at the entrance to her cunt before entering a short way and then thrusting hard to break through her maidenhood. A little cry escaped her lips at the sharp pain but she gritted her teeth while he waited for the pain to subside before fucking her with long, steady strokes. Her Ladyship helped too by sliding her hand between the two bodies and pressing and rubbing Mabilia's erect clitoris. Between the two, surprisingly quickly, her orgasm came, stronger and more powerful than any she'd had with her own fingers. Involuntarily she cried out with delight. His lordship continued thrusting until he sent his seed into her body and collapsed on top of her, his weight painfully reminding her of the welt that still surrounded her body.
Exhausted but realising her responsibility, using the slightly bloodied towel, she wiped his prick clean and then her mound before he pulled the blankets over their still naked bodies and went to sleep. Lady Rosalind climbed in and lay alongside her and kissed her tenderly but didn't go further before she too drifted into sleep. Unused to the sex, unused to sleeping in a bed with others, sleep didn't come to Mabilia for a long while and she lay awake or half dozing, going over the events of the past few days and pondering over her future.
As Clara predicted, when his Lordship awoke next morning, his hard-on soon found its way into Mabilia's still tender cunt. She took it and tried to respond but without the excitement of the previous evening, she didn't climax and when he'd finished, the Master sent her back to her quarters to do her normal work duties. To him she was only a girl to fuck and while she also wanted love and affection to go with it, Mabilia had to be content with her role. Clara and the other girls, of course, were all agog to get the details of what happened but were only given a mere outline of the events.
For three weeks her life at Kidlintonhope Manor went reasonably well and, as gradually she learned her duties and the other staff became used to her dialect and she became used to theirs, they became friendlier towards her. Her ready smile charmed them all, all that is, except for Catherine one of the older maids who never permitted anyone to call her Kate within her hearing, and Mr. Kerrison who she refused to sleep with. Burrows had started work again but his duties kept him away from her. Both Catherine and Mr. Kerrison believed she curried favours with the master, indeed she'd had to attend his bedroom and those of the two younger sons on more occasions than other maids and the pair resolved to take her down a peg or two whenever they could. In bed at night, when she had time to think about herself, she wondered if she had become like one of the dockside tarts the older girls at school had whispered about, but she didn't think so. "I don't offer myself to them but they do often give me a coin if I put on a good show," she told herself, "I enjoy what the master does and the boys are fun too but I don't get the same orgasms with them. I don't know why Stuart hasn't asked for me yet but he only asks for Janet once in a while and she never says anything about him."
"I'm sorry M'Lord but I had to give Master Stuart a dose of the cane again. For the third time this week he'd made no effort with the work I'd set and I begin to doubt it is worth my time in tutoring him," Doctor Rooke spoke resignedly to Lord McCauley, "You're paying, Sir, but there are other parents with boys more than willing to learn that will make up my income should you decide to terminate my services. At the moment I feel my efforts to impart knowledge to the boy are meeting with resentment and a total refusal to do the work. In other words, Sir, I am wasting my time."
"I'm sorry, Doctor, I know Stuart is more interested in practical estate work than maths and English but I'd hoped by now he'd realise he needs both to run an estate. He has a stubborn streak and once he decides he is not going to do anything, he'll refuse to do it no matter what punishment he is given. I'll talk with him..."
The door opened noisily and Clara burst in. "Sorry to butt in Sir, but Mr. Kerrison is going to thrash Marb for stealing one of your books but she didn't, Sir. Please stop him." she interrupted the discussion. "She brought the book with her, Sir, I saw it when we unpacked her bag. It's a leather covered one like those in the Library, Sir. Sorry, Sir, I know I shouldn't have come in like this but Mr. Kerrison has her stripped and tied to the punishment bench and intends to thrash her good and hard."
"I'll leave you to sort out your domestics, M'Lord and take my leave. I trust you will contact me with your decision," Doctor Rooke took his departure.
Mabilia's screams reached their ears when they arrived at the stairs leading to the cellar. Kerrison savagely laid each stroke on with all the force he could muster urged on by Burrows who pleaded to be allowed to take a turn at using the strap and to fuck her afterwards, but Kerrison refused to give it up. He enjoyed wielding it too much and he could now use it to good effect on the foreign lass who insinuated herself into the master's favour. Mary and Janet stood crying nearby and when the Master appeared they urged him to stop the punishment, which he did but by then Mabilia had taken nineteen hard strokes of the strap. "Hold still Kerrison," his Lordship ordered on seeing her naked body and well blistered, red buttocks, "And tell me, why are you thrashing a girl so hard without my consent?"
"Catherine found one of your expensive books in the girl's bedside table drawer, Sir, and we always consider thieving to be a serious crime warranting stern punishment."
"It's my book, Sir, Grandfather gave it to me for my twelfth birthday," Mabilia croaked between sobs, "You can see on the flyleaf, Sir." Opening the book, he found inscribed in neat handwriting, the words, 'To our dearest granddaughter, Mabilia, to commemorate her 12th birthday, 21st June, 1847 with love and affection from Grandfather and Grandmother.'
"You didn't check her story, Kerrison?" Without waiting for an answer, he ordered Mabilia's release and with Clara's help, she stood shakily and dried her eyes with a proffered handkerchief.
"Please let me keep the book, Sir, it is of great sentimental value and one of the few things I have left from them. They saved up and bought it secondhand..."
"Can you read it? It is a scholarly work for a young girl, or a girl of any age and even more so if you were twelve at the time." She nodded and when he opened the book to a page at random and asked her to read a paragraph, although broken by the sobs that escaped he lips, she read it with ease.
"Take to her to Cook, Clara and see to treating her welts, I'll deal with Kerrison later," Lord McCauley ordered.
"Might I suggest, Cameron, that she be sent to Stuart's room and let the pair treat each other? That fiendish tutor has thrashed him far harder than ever before and his buttocks need the salve as much as hers and from hearing her read, I would guess she has the intelligence to help him with his studies," Lady McCauley arrived on the scene.
"What do you want?" Stuart turned angrily when Mabilia clad only in a short shift, entered the room, but his voice softened when he noticed she, like him, had been crying and by the way she walked, she too had been whipped, "Why have they sent you? Did you bring the ointment?"
"Clara's bringing it, Sir, the master said I should put it on you and you would do the same to me and we could comfort each other. He also said for me to help you with your studies instead of Doctor Rooke. I will do you first if you like, Sir," she added when Clara entered with the ointment and Mary brought a basin of cold water and hand towels to lay over the raw flesh to take some of the fire away. When the towels lost any effectiveness, Mabilia very gently applied the salve and as she did so, noticed his prick, which had started to harden under her ministrations, was at almost as big as his father's and wondered why he so rarely called for girls to use it. It hardened still further when he applied the ointment to Mabilia's sore bum and saw her open cunt but the pain dulled any eroticism and neither wanted to go further. For a while they lay silently, naked and face down on his bed waiting for the pain to ease.
An hour later they began to talk firstly about why they'd been punished and then Stuart asked, "Why did father say you could help me with my studies? What does a simple maid no older than me, know about mathematics and such things?"
"Enough not to get caned in school, Sir, but too much not to get the strap here," she answered, forcing a smile and some of her usual cheerfulness returning, "Let me see your work book."
"I don't know why I need to know such things to run an estate. "I'd employ someone to do it.
"And knowing you were not able to check on them, they'd probably cheat on you. With respect, Sir, if you are going to be in charge of an estate employing many people, you really do need to know how to do accounts, to read documents and to write letters as well as giving orders."
Two hours later when Lord McCauley entered the room they both knelt on the bed with the workbook and his exercise book on the pillow and Mabilia patiently explained the intricacies of multiplying sums of money that included pounds, shillings, pence and farthings. " ... that gives you 63 farthings, how are you going to convert them to pennies? ... Sorry, Sir, I didn't hear you come in." She struggled to her feet in order to curtsey but was told to stay where she was.