Chapter 5

Now, I guess I have to confess that six women, five of them under thirty and the other catching up after a life of celibacy, were quite enough to keep me occupied. Especially when opportunities for sex began to crop up during the day as well as at night. Ellen was the first when I had to ‘punish’ her for denigrating her appearance and value, but she was far from the last. Jenny and Rosie both took to wearing no underwear, copying Ellen who seemed to forget that she’d ever owned knickers or bra. There’s only so much a red-blooded young man can take, after all. Besides, there’s that ‘Coolidge Effect’: the more you do it, the more semen you make.

I was actually surprised that we only had one pregnancy during the first year, and that was Ellen, of course. Chris and Ellen contrived to ensure that the other girls were not allowed near my cock during the periods of peak fertility until Ellen’s little boy was born. For those wondering about periods, Amy and Jenny didn’t mind; “It washes off!” But Chris, Rosie and Shelagh were not keen, so why upset them? Ellen, of course didn’t have periods during her pregnancy. What she did have was a mightily enhanced libido.

Anyway, the point of all the foregoing was that I wasn’t hurting for sex. Frankly, it was usually twice a day or more. So when another young woman appeared at the front door, Francine Rose, I was ambivalent about introducing her into the household. Not but what she wasn’t a pretty girl. Stocky, okay, solidly built, but she had curves in the right places and a lovely face. She’d just had her seventeenth birthday.

Ellen brought her to the study, and I stood to greet her.

“Master, this is Francine. She’s come to ask for a job.”

“Well, hello, Francine. Do you get called ‘Fran’, or something else?”

“Sir, I get called Fran sometimes, but often ‘Mekky’, ‘cos I like machines. Of course, sometimes it’s ‘Dyke’ or ‘Les’, ‘cos of the way I’m built, but I’m not those, really I’m not. I was told you value girls for who they are not just how they look.”

“I do...” I glanced at Ellen, and smiled, “don’t I, Ellen?”

“Yes, Master, you do.”

“Ellen ... as housekeeper, can we justify another maid in the house? Are you or the other girls over loaded?”

Ellen hesitated. I could tell she hated to be put on the spot to make a decision like that. But she pulled her shoulders back, which did nice things to her chest – this was a couple of months before the baby was born, and her bosom was beginning to enlarge – and spoke firmly. “Honestly, Master, no. We could occupy her, but, really ... no.”

The girl’s face fell and she looked near to tears. I frowned, thinking. Another girl? I’d have no trouble ... accommodating her, if that was what she wanted, but seven women demanding attention? Then it occurred to me that the house was not the only source of occupation.

“Okay, Fran. You say you like machines ... How would you feel about training as a blacksmith? It’s not up to me, but I’ll give you a recommendation. Other than that, we might use another gardener.”

Her eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “Really, sir? I hadn’t thought of that. Could I?”

I looked at Ellen. “Thanks, Ellen. I’ll take Francine round to the Smithy. She may need a room in the servants’ quarters, but we’ll see what John thinks of her.” I smiled at the girl. “Come along, Fran. Let’s see if John Smith needs an apprentice. He’s got one boy, but he did say he could occupy two.”

Ellen stood aside from the door and I ushered Fran through it and led her, through the kitchen, to the Smithy. It was chilly, and the door was shut tight, though we could hear a hammer through it. Smoke, unsurprisingly, was rising from the chimney. I banged on the door, but didn’t wait for an answer, just led the way in. It was ... hot in there. We stood inside the door, watching John beat a piece of steel into a scythe blade, watching the glow of the hot metal grow duller until he plunged back into the glowing fire. His apprentice, Jimmy, worked the bellows, and John came over to us.

“Well, Squire! What can I do for you?” ‘Squire’ was John’s little jibe at me. Partly as a semi-respectful colloquial address, partly because of my de facto position of authority in the village.

“You mentioned that you might find work for a second apprentice. How’s young Jimmy working out?”

“Oh, Jimmy, he’ll do,” that was high praise from the old Smith. “But I dare say he won’t mind sharing the pumping of the bellows, and he needs to start using a hammer anyway.”

“John, this is Francine. She’s also known as Fran and sometimes ‘Mekky’. How about giving her a try?”

He shrugged. “Sure. If her don’t mind hard work and dirt, her can have a try. Perhaps it might be better if her had a room in the house, d’thou think? Jimmy lives in the village, but,” he stopped and looked at Fran. “Lass, I live in t’ back there these days. There’s a little hutch for a ‘prentice, and we can wash and cook. By courtesy of t’ Squire here, I get a shower in the house and a meal from time to time. Up t’ thee.”

She looked him up and down. He’s over seventy, but you might not guess it to look at him. His eyes twinkled in his weathered face under a raised eyebrow.

“Mister Smith, if I’m to be an apprentice, I should have an apprentice’s place, don’t you think? I can cook, too, as well as pump bellows or swing a hammer.”

“Good enough, then, Fran. Shall ye fetch thy things? Ye can come today, or in t’ morning. I suggest ye give it a couple of months trial.”

“I wasn’t expecting this today. I’ll come tomorrow, if that’s okay?”

“Right-oh. Bright ‘n’ early, lass.”

She nodded, and turned to leave. I smiled at the Smith and held out a hand. “Thank you, John.”

He laughed, “Oh, ‘tis for me to thank thou, Squire. Tha’s given I a life an’ a purpose again. An’ a pretty lass ‘n all.”

I laughed at that, and followed Fran out. “When John says early, he’s usually up by about eight. We see young Jimmy going in about then. Look, Fran, see how it goes. Feel free to come to the house for a shower, or a meal when John comes of an evening. If you find it’s not for you, you can have a trial with the gardener, but this seems like the thing.”

“It does. It really does! Thank you! Um ... Master?”

“No, Fran. I’m not your master. That’ll be John if it works out. My name’s George. If that feels too familiar, make it Mister George, okay?”
“Okay, Mister George. If it’s alright, I’ll walk round the house to go home, rather than tramp through your house.”

Fran left, and I’ll come back to her story later – it makes good telling. Perhaps I’ll let John tell it, as he was at the centre of it. But I got back to my desk just as Jenny came in to tend the fire. She’d hemmed her skirt higher. It covered her assets – barely – when she was upright, but when she bent over to see to the fire, well ... let’s just say I had a very nice view. She finished fiddling with the fire, chucked some coal on, and stood to leave, giving me a cheeky glance.

“Jenny!”

“Master?”

“I think you’re being a very naughty little girl, flashing your private parts at your master like that. Whose idea was it to shorten that skirt so much?”

She coloured brightly. “I ... I’m not supposed to say, Master.”

“I see. Well, I can’t have you disturbing me like that. I think I should give you six of the best to begin. Then you can take care of the disturbance.”

She tried hard to look frightened and remorseful, not too successfully. “Master?”

I walked round the desk. “Bend over the desk, little temptress.”

She did so with considerable alacrity. I flipped her negligible skirt up to expose her luscious bottom, and proceeded to spank her three times on each cheek with the paddle. Not that I was applying it hard, just enough that her bottom was pink. It was certainly enough to get her going. Like Ellen and, indeed, Rosie, she got off on being spanked.

“No, don’t stand up, stay like that.” I didn’t really need to check her pussy which was bright pink with arousal and drooling girl-cum, but couldn’t resist running a finger along her slit. When I contacted her clit, she orgasmed and I held her hips to make sure she didn’t collapse. When she stopped shaking I got my own relief in her tight channel.

It wasn’t over that quickly, and I stayed hard anyway, and reached under to unbutton her blouse so I could fondle her neat tits. I actually prefer smallish ones and her nipples were very sensitive. We both enjoyed a few minutes like that before I withdrew.

“Very well, Slave. Off you go. I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”