I wandered around my library thinking of the last weeks events. I didn't know what to make of my daughters new governess. She was certainly attactive enough, but that was not why she was hired. Her qualification and references were perfect and she seemed to to be enough of a task master to keep my daughter on the right track. Heretofor she had been a little shipshod in her acquisition of the skills required to run a household. I don't mean actually do the work. That was for servants. But if she was to marry properly in the future, she certainly needed more training and refinement.

My daughter would have a one time settlement at marriage of 5000 pounds. That was enough to generate 300 pounds per annum. Quite enough if one were prudent and ran a well-managed home. It was not enough, however to assure that she would marry into a rich family. No, not hardly. With refinement she had a much better chance. Hence, Miss Devens employment. Had my wonderful wife of fifteen years not died three years ago, a governess would not have been needed.

Since Miss Devens arrival some three months ago, my daughter seemed to slowly become more and more devoted to her. Being fond of her governess was hoped for but not necessary. But the way she followed her around the place with a puppy-dog look was altogether something else. I had been growing concerned. Then, two weeks ago while I was in London for my fortnightly liaison with a woman of the night, I chanced to visit my favorite bookseller. While looking through the book stacks in search of an addition for my library, I came across a small book titled 'Proper House Staff Management'. Seeing as how that topic was much on my mind lately, I thumbed through the book. On one page I was shocked to see an illustrated drawing of the master of the house on one side of a wall looking through a hole. On the other side of the wall a woman in a maids uniform was shown undressing. This kind of thing was just not done.

For some reason I felt I needed the book. When I purchased it the proprietor pulled a card from his desk and suggested that I might want to visit a nearby shop. I'd glanced at the address and saw it was only two blocks away. The card had read 'Discretion Limited'. Two hours later I was in possession of specialized tools and miscellaneous fixtures I would have been ashamed to be seen with, much less install in my own home.

My daughter and the whole staff of my house had been chiding me over the past several months about the old fashioned nature of my clothes. Since this seemed like a time for a major change in direction for everything, I had decided to order some new clothes. Even my clothier, whom I had done business with practically forever was surprised I had stayed with the old styles. So I had been fitted with tights, no less, which were 'in' for the upper classes. A cod patch or covering for the privates was appropriate for the style and in my case absolutely mandatory. No wonder the lower-class women snickered behind their fans. They could see everything one had. Unfortunately, I had more than most and I felt totally exposed and rediculous. But my clothier, the clerk at my hotel (I had always suspected he was a faggot) and even my prostitute told me how nice I looked. Damned woman wouldn't even let me take my pants off until she had practically worn the material out groping me and rubbing my cod patch. So I guess I was stuck with the style until it changed again. Soon, I hoped.

Upon returning home I felt like I was possessed by a devil. I had read and reread the book. I knew it by heart. I had installed discrete peek holes in the governess' room as well as my daughters adjacent room which had a connecting door. This was done while they were visiting friends in a nearby town for a few days. But I didn't stop there. The madness was upon me. I allowed the servants to take an unscheduled holiday during the period my daughter was gone. It gave me the opportunity to survey the servants quarters and select ideal locations for the holes. I concealed a peeking hole in the kitchen, one in the servants sitting room and one in each of the two servants sleeping rooms. Because of the unique layout of the house all of these viewing spaces were easily accessible to me without being seen by the staff.

Everyone was due back the following day. I took one more tour around to each of the holes. I checked to assure that nothing would stop me from seeing or hearing. I also went into each room and assured myself that the holes could not be spotted or even suspected. I was finally coming to realize that I was doing this for me. Whatever I had used for an excuse to set this up was a lie. I was a voyeur and a girlwatcher and now I finally had the balls to do something about it. I couldn't remember when I had been so excited about anything. Selecting the right places for the peeks and the pride of workmanship and skill in expert camoflage of the results. I couldn't wait to view and ease-drop on my unsuspecting housemates.

Maude, my cook, and Fanny, the younger housekeeper arrived early from their unscheduled holiday. I'd decided to wear my new clothes so as to get the giggles out of the way before my daughter, Fay and Miss Devens arrived back for lunch. Both stared at my face and refused to even notice my new clothes. Oh, well, maybe they have become so common now as to be un-noticable. So much the better. I ordered lunch for 3 at 12 sharp and let them get on with their work. I fussed around in the library for a few minutes then decided it was time to try a peek hole. They were both in the kitchen and now dressed in their uniforms. I had missed getting to see them change.

"Lor, did you see the bulge in his pants. I'm starting to drip just thinking about it."

"Oh, Yes. It was lovely alright. But I always suspected as much. Before you came to work here, when the Misses was alive I mean, you should've seen her on saturday mornings. Limping, she was, every saturday morning and looking like she'd been run over by a hay wagon. She never really said, of course, but I knew friday nites must have been a real chore. Took three days to recover, she did."

Fanny giggled and said, "I'd like to think I could recover faster than that."

I'd heard enough of that conversation and retreated to the Library. Being the object of servant gossip was disturbing but at the same time somewhat complimentary. I had never guessed that women even talked like that among themselves. Maybe it was just among the lower classes. While I was mulling this over, Fanny slipped into the library and started her dusting. Strange. Normally, the staff went to great pains to work in areas of the house where no one was. It didn't really matter, I guess, except I had overheard her and the cooks comments. We generally ignored them anyway so I sat, picked up a book I had been reading and stared at the page without seeing it. The damned girl was flitting around the room like a fairy and seemed to spend most of her time either bending over toward me accidentally showing her cleavage or bending away showing her black stocking legs damned near to her knees. Eventhough I'd been thoroughly serviced in London, I was still affected by these "accidentally (my ass)" displays. These cod patches just were not up to the task and I was afraid to get up from my chair while Fanny was in the room. I waited for her to leave but she didn't. She finally walked over to the chair where I was sitting, squatted down a few feet away and said, "If you'd be so good, sir, as to stand up I can dust your chair and be finished with the room." This kind of intrusion by a maid was just not done but without thinking I stood up. Fanny squeeked in response and fell over backwards exposing her legs all the way to her white panties. I looked down in surprise and saw that my cod patch had totally given up leaving my erection standing straight out a full seven inches and totally distorting my new pants. In horror, I fled the library with what little dignity I had left.

I looked in the mirror and surveyed the damage. My pants were down around my ankles and the cod patch was hanging over my cock like a worthless little flag. As I could tell now, there were two distinct problems with this whole mess. The fixable one was that I had tied the cod patch incorrectly to hold myself in case of an erection. The non-fixable one was that my cock was seven inches long whether it was erect or not. I was always going to have a bulge when I wore these stylish pants. In any event, I now owned these clothes and I was going to wear them. Everyone had wanted me to get them. If there was anyone embarrassed it ought to be those who insisted on style, not me. I suddenly thought about my encounter with Fanny and my erection sprang up again. Then I remembered what my subconscious mind and cock had previously registered. When Fanny had fallen over backwards and I had seen her panties, her crotch had been soaked clear through. Fanny would bear watching I thought smiling.

At about 11:00 I began watching for the coach. It arrived shortly and I was on the porch steps to meet them. As soon as it stopped, the footman jumped down and opened the door. Two sets of eyes were staring intently out of the coach but they weren't moving to get out. The footman had his arm extended to help and kept saying, "Madam. Madam. Madam." I took a couple of steps down and said, "Welcome home, Ladies." They finally woke up and got out of the coach on apparently shakey legs. Both seemed to be breathing very shallow, short breaths. "Is something wrong, Dear?" "No, No Dad, we're both OK. Just a little excited to be home again." "I'll have the bags sent up. You girls freshen up and lunch is at 12:00 sharp. I'll see you then."

Fay and Miss Devens arrived for lunch in more casual attire. Perhaps I had better describe them; at least superficially. Fay is 14 years old. She is tall for her age, slim and quite pretty if I do say so myself. Naturally curly blond hair surrounds her perfect oval face. Her pouty little lips are light red and require no makeup and her eyes are dark blue. An altogether nice package. Mrs. Devens body can only be described as volumpuous. Black straight hair with a flip at the bottom which has been added on this trip by someone. Dark eyes, pretty but more mature face and seductive lips I have thought about kissing since I first hired her. She must be about 25 although I never really asked. Seems an ideal mother substitute and tutor for Fay. At any rate they get along well, if not too well, as companions. At least that is the excuse I am going to use for the time being to peek at them. I beginning to think I'll be able to find any number of excuses if that one doesn't pan out.

Maude, rather than Fanny comes out to serve the soup and sandwishes. She serves the girls first of course. Maybe Fanny is as embarrassed as I am about this morning. When Maude serves my soup she leans over and presses both of her ample breast squarely into my back. I'm stunned. She's never done anything like that before. What in the world is causing the sudden madness in this house. Surely not my new clothes.

After lunch but before the two girls can get out of the room, I decide to force them to comment on the new, stylish clothes they've been badgering me to buy. "Well young ladies, I'm surprised you haven't noticed the new stylish clothes I purchased in London. This is the style you wanted me to buy isn't it?" At this point I unbutton the vest top, lift it slightly and allow them to see the tights. I slowly revolve so they can miss nothing. "Now, are you ready to let me go back to my old but comfortable clothes?"

In evident discomfort, they have both been forced to focus on my new tights with its significant bulge. The same bulge I can not control and had apparently gone completely un-noticed in my older clothes. Miss Devens finally pipes up in a breathless voice that I've never heard before, "We think you look just wonderful in your new clothes." Now I know they are both embarrassed but I press on to increase their discomfort. "Good!", I say, "I have accepted, on the three of ours behalf, an invitation to attend a dance at the crawlys summer house the day after tomorrow. I hope you'll both be able to find something suitable to wear that will not clash with my new clothes."

The afternoon, tea, and dinner were fortunately uneventful except for the absense of Fanny. During dinner I finally asked Maude why Fanny was not serving the meal. Maude said that she was feeling poorly and left it at that. I had learned long ago that when talking about a woman feeling poorly it could mean anything, so I didn't press it. I had my usual brandy in the library and then decided to peek at my daughter and her governess. I find both are sitting in Fay's room. "If your father goes to the dance in those clothes, every single woman in the place and more than one married one will be after him." I watched Fay shake her head. "Then our plan will be for naught, Ann. You'll just have to dress to kill so he'll only have you on his mind." Oh, I thought, what plan?

With a sigh they both started to undress and get ready for bed. Fay turned so that Ann could undo her dress and she let it slip to the floor. She was still dressed in a full cover top and pantaloons down to her ankles. Still, It was as near to undressed as I had seen her in the last seven or eight years. The top came off next and I saw two of the prettiest breasts I had ever seen. Small but creamy with the nicest pink nipples. Despite myself, my cod patch was starting to feel too snug. When the pantaloons hit the floor I almost came. A true blond but the hair was wispy and didn't provide full cover. Just a touch of pink showed from the inter lips. Most striking, however, was the clitorus which was prominent at the top.

Miss Devers startled me by stepping up to my daughter in her naked condition and giving her a big hug. They clung to one another. I was stunned beyond belief. I had suspected something might not be right between them, but I thought I was just fooling myself. They quickly separated and Ann shead her remaining clothing. Feminine was really the only way to describe her. 100% woman despite what I had just seen her do to my daughter. She had her back to me and God, what a beautiful ass. They came close and hugged again just before the light went out. I had half a mind to charge into the room and fire the beautiful bitch. Seducing my daughter? The only thing I would lose is my daughters trust forever. Showing up with an obviously stiff prick would really say it all, now wouldn't it? What should I do?

I staggered back to my room in a daze. I took off my coat and shirt and threw them on the the chair. I had to get my cock out of this damn restraining cod patch. I got my tights half way down my theighs and froze. Someone was wheezing in my room. I whirled around. Fanny was standing just outside the open door with one arm across her breasts and her other hand covering her crotch. Looked modest OK as she was fully dressed. I forgot what I must have looked like and said, "What in the devil are you doing here? I thought you were sick." She was breathing heavily and stuttered, "I, I, I wanted to t t tell you how b b beautiful you were in your new c c clothes. She staggered forward, dropped to her knees in front of me and squeezed my strained cod patch.

Suddenly, nothing was beyond my imagination. I was an animal in heat. I ripped open her bodice exposing her breasts. Looking at them fed a passion that was already out of control. I covered her breasts with my hands and pushed her over backwards onto the floor. In one continous motion I reached in and pulled her panties from her legs and over my head. The scent of sex-soaked panties overwhelmed me. I buried my face in her crotch and ravaged her with my tongue. I had never in my life even thought of doing something like that. But I couldn't get enough. Fannys eyes were wide and looking at me with complete abandonment. Her mouth was one big O. She was making strange noises and I knew I was growling. I couldn't wait any longer and I tore off the remains of my cod patch. I brutally buried my cock in her wet, slick, tight pussy. Fanny wrapped her legs and arms around me tightly as we rolled frantically around the floor. I couldn't come and I never wanted to quit. Fanny yelled everytime she came and as the time wore on it sounded continuous to my ears. I finally came and collapsed with her on top of me. I was still dazed and disoriented. We finally separated and repaired our clothing. I slipped into my robe. I didn't say another word to Fanny. There was not much I could say that would explain my actions. I suddenly realized that the door had been open all the time this had been going on and there were two dim robed figures staring into the room from across the hall. I gathered my courage saying, "Thank you Fanny for bring up the tea service." Fanny, holding her damaged dress together, scurried from the room replying, "You're welcome, Sir." Fay and Ann both moved forward to the open door as if in a trance with wide eyes wildly looked around my bedroom. I stood tall, straightened my back and my lapels and patted down the wet cravat around my neck which for some reason smelled just like Fannys panties. They both left, staggering back down the hall without saying a single word.

This was my house and I didn't have to justify anything I did to anyone. That is exactly what I told myself all night long. If I acted like nothing happened, they would think they were mistaken in whatever they thought they saw. How long had they been standing in the hall watching? In any event, I really didn't have a choice. Nothing happened, period.

I brazenly walked into the dining room a few minutes late for breakfast expecting to have to fake it. With a sigh of relief I noted no one was there. I sat down and rang the bell for the cook but Fanny showed up to take my order. "I'll have two eggs and toast and coffee." "Would twice a week be convenient for you?" she says. Without looking up I said, "No." "Once," she says. "No," I murmered. "Then once a bloody fortnight or I'll quit and spread dirty rumors all over the village." "We'll see and don't burn the toast."