Abbey Hall
Copyright© 2025 by Tedbiker
Chapter 10
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 10 - Ralph, the 18 yo son of a Committee advisor, is given the task of developing a neglected country estate. He has much to do, and needs support in doing it. This is the story of acquiring the help, female, sexy, attractive help, and how their relationships grow and the work develops.
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft mt/Fa Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Post Apocalypse Harem First Masturbation Oral Sex Pregnancy
Life at the Hall was as routine as it could be, given the changing seasons. Bex began to spend time in the stable, teaching Sarah. Lisa was spending more and more time working productively in the garden with her new recruits. I shared my bed each night with a lovely woman, and twice each day a different one came to share a snack and a quick – or not so quick – coupling in my office. When that was Bex, she now left Sarah working and came into the house. One way or another, Lottie, Libby, Rosie, Lisa, Sophie, Bex and Mary each had their share of my attention. But I expect at least some of my readers will have seen the approaching problem...
Mary Thomas:
It was a miracle. That’s all I can say. I took shelter in a stable. It was a miracle I didn’t get frostbite, walking in deep snow, just sneakers on my feet, inadequate clothing. Only a thick coat I stole when I ran away saved me, that, and finding the stable. Warmth from a small heater and the animals themselves, a horse blanket, a bed of straw. It was a miracle that I was found by Bex, and then that master Ralph didn’t report me immediately, didn’t send me back. It was a miracle that he accepted me, took me to his bed, treated me as a person of value, not an object. Gave me orgasms. Loved me.
I found I was accepted into a sort of large family. Clothes, proper ones, not designed to display my body for sex. Food. Three proper meals a day. My own bed. Most importantly, as I just said, I was loved. Loved and treated with respect, by the master and by the other women in the house. When the Police came, I was scared, but the master protected me, argued for me, proved I had been abused. Then, some of the others, rescued from the house, were brought to the Hall. To work, but to be safe, too. I shared with Sarah, partly because she was, in a way, the odd one out, working in the stable for Bex, instead of the estate for Lisa. One night, though, after we’d settled down, it not being my night with master Ralph, Sarah spoke. The room was dark, so we couldn’t see each other, but everything was quiet, and it was easy to have a quiet conversation.
“Mary, you go to have sex with the Master, don’t you?”
I didn’t answer immediately, but thought. “Yes, I go to the master. I go joyfully, not to ‘have sex’, but because we make love.”
“There’s a difference?” The sarcasm was very clear in her tone!
“There is no comparison.” I paused, wondering how to explain. “Sarah, you rub, don’t you? I think everyone does.”
“Sure. More, since I was here.”
“Think about how it feels when you come. Then imagine the sensation increased to the point where sometimes you faint from it.”
“No!”
“Yes. In the first place, having someone deliberately working your erogenous zones is much better than doing it to yourself. But secondly, having someone who is more interested in giving you pleasure than getting pleasure himself makes an enormous difference. But the important difference is love.”
“Love? I don’t know what love is.”
“When you work with Bex, how does she make you feel?”
“Valued. Useful. As if I’m pleasing her. I really like caring for the horses. It’s something I wanted to do when I was a little girl, but never got the chance.”
“And when we’re all sitting round the kitchen table, how do you feel?”
She was silent. I thought I could ‘hear’ her frowning, shrugging. “It is ... comfortable. I think it reminds me of when I had a mother and a father, a sister, a brother, and we sat around a table at home. But I stayed at home when they went to London. I didn’t feel well. A neighbour came to look after me. Mum, Dad, Cheri, Darell, they never came back.”
“Okay. Here’s a tough one. When you’re at the table, or in the lounge, how does master Ralph look at you?”
“I hadn’t thought, but he just looks. He looks at my face, not my body. He smiles at me. I’ve just thought, when I first came, and Bex was having her baby, he worked with me in the stable. He never touched me, just worked alongside, sometimes suggesting something that needed doing.”
“Sarah, master Ralph married Bex when she was pregnant. Before that she was just one of us.”
“But ... he wouldn’t want us anyway. Not after what happened to us.”
“He accepted me, Sarah, and you know I’ve been through the same as you. Granted, he’s got a houseful of beautiful ladies, but you are no slouch, and neither are Sally, Petra, Emma and Betty. Go and talk to Miss Denham. She’ll tell you, first that there’s no obligation on any girl or woman to have sex with the master, and second, that if you want to experience really good sex, you will need to ask. I warn you though, if you do experience master Ralph’s love-making, you will want to continue.”
Lottie Denham:
I would have been honoured to marry master Ralph. I am honoured to bear his child. But I believe what I told him, that he needed to be able to marry the younger ones. They deserved to be wives. On the other hand, if an abused woman felt she wanted to try, to see if she’d been too damaged, I wouldn’t stand in her way. When Mary Thomas asked, I persuaded Ralph to give her a chance, and we had a ‘first time’ dinner for her, just as we had for Rosie, Lisa, Sophie, Bex. I think that went a long way to undo the damage her abusers had inflicted. But being presented with another five young women? I’ll admit I was worried.
As it happens, I was the first to meet a possible answer. I answered a knock on the door, and found a young man standing there. Tall, mid-teens maybe, dark hair, the beginnings of facial hair.
“Er. Miss Denham?”
“That would be me.”
“I am Andrew Shepherd. I came to ask if there were any possibility of employment,” he said. “My mother has a small-holding a short way the other side of the village.”
“You’d better come in and talk to master Ralph,” I said. I led the way, tapped on the office door, got a response, and ushered the chap in. “Master Ralph, this is Andrew Shepherd. He’s looking for work.”
“Thank you, Lottie. Apologise to whoever, will you? I’ll let you know when I’m free.”
Ralph Hewson:
When Lottie ushered the young man into my office, for a moment I felt something in my gut. I fought it down, stood, smiling, and held out a hand. He took it, a firm grip, the palm of his hand calloused. “Take a seat,” I suggested, pointing, and turning my chair to face him. “Tell me about yourself,” I told him, sitting back.
“Oh ... I’m Andrew Shepherd. My mother has a small-holding a few miles away. Dad’s back from the Middle East – he volunteered for the Army. So I could look for work and perhaps bring some money in to the family. I’ve done a bit of everything, you know. We have a couple of cows, a few sheep, chickens, we grow enough wheat and barley for our needs and a little over, we grow our own vegetables.”
“So if I handed you to our Estate Manager, you could look after the kitchen garden, for example?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You know that all my workers are girls just now?”
“Yes, sir. I’ve been warned to behave properly.”
I laughed. “That’s good. I am ... protective of the girls.”
He nodded, serious. “I promise to treat them all with respect.”
“Very well. If you come with me, we’ll find Lisa, who is my Estate Manager. She gets the final say in who works here. As far as I am concerned, you get a month, as probation, if you like. If Lisa and I are both satisfied, you will be paid nine pounds an hour, initially, and you will get a sandwich lunch in the middle of the day. Assuming you do well, your pay will increase, up to, currently, twelve pounds an hour.”
“That’s ... generous, sir.”
“I believe it to be appropriate. The girls get a lot less, not because they work less, but because they live here and other expenses are met for them.” I led the way out into the garden. Two of the girls were tending the flower beds visible from the house. Lisa and two others were working hard in the kitchen garden. We approached Lisa, who looked round. She came towards us and, unusually, gave me a lingering kiss. Establishing her non-availability? “Lisa, this is Andrew Shepherd. I’ve agreed to give him a trial for a month. It will be up to you whether he continues after that time.”
“Very good, master Ralph.” She turned to Andrew. “Come along, then.”
I watched as she led him to a bare patch and heard. “We’re preparing this for potatoes. It needs forking over and that...” she pointed, “rotted manure to be spread over and turned in.” She looked back at me, and waved in dismissal, so I duly left.
Over the next two weeks, two more young men approached the Hall, one to tend the horses with Bex and Sarah, the other to work with Andrew and Lisa. I began to relax, hoping that those three would, in the first place prove satisfactory workers, and secondly want to partner with the new girls ... and, of course, treat them properly.
Lottie came to discuss Sarah, who, apparently, was thinking about trying sex with someone who cared. Guess who?
“Master Ralph, I’ve seen how you are with us here, how you were with me, and I can’t think of anyone better. Sarah’s seen Darren, Evan and Andrew, and is thinking that perhaps she might want a relationship in the future. However, she is uncertain whether she can permit a man that close. She doesn’t want to start something she can’t go through with.”
“Let me think about that, Lottie. I don’t want to short change any of you.”
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