Penelope, Mistress of the Manor
Copyright© 2013 by Lubrican
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 5 - The aged Earl of Haversham was in need of a wife, and an heir. So, he bartered a marriage to young Penelope, and brought her to Farnsworth Manor as the new mistress there. The only problem was that Penelope liked her former life just fine. She didn't want to wander around a dusty old mansion, while her belly swelled up until she waddled like a duck. At least not alone. But there were a number of young, nubile servant girls about the place. So she hatched a plan. She wouldn't BE alone.
Jack had told her every detail of every dream he could remember. It wasn't until then, that he realized that the secret she had said she wanted to share had not, in fact, been shared. Still, she sat upon him. She had rocked, somehow, exactly at the right pace to keep him iron hard, and on edge. It was obvious she wasn't disgusted and that, alone, made his heart soar. His guilt still lay heavily on his heart, but her acceptance of his confession somehow made it feel a bit lighter.
"If she were willing ... would you bed her?" asked Penelope.
"She would never be willing," he barked.
"Answer the question," she said. Steel had crept into her voice, and the fear somehow flooded back into his brain.
"I don't want to be sent away," he said. He hadn't meant to voice what was on his mind. It had just slipped out.
"Answer the question, Jack," she said again. The steel was still there, but it didn't sound quite so scary somehow.
"If she was willing," he said softly, "I doubt I could stop myself."
"You think these feelings are perverted and beastly," she said. It was a simple statement of fact.
"Of course," he said.
"My uncle taught me to do this," she said.
She had stopped moving on the outside. She sat perfectly still, and had he been standing a pace away, he might have thought she was a statue. But inside, she was writhing. The hand squeezed, massaged, stroked, bringing him to the apex again. He hadn't realized he was so close. Her education of him had sunk deeply into his bones, though, and he now fought the urge.
"Mistress!" he croaked. "You must stop. I am close to ruining you."
She leaned forward, crushing her breasts on his chest, her ruby lips an inch from his.
"I loved my uncle," she said. "That was forbidden, but he brought me more pleasure in life than I will ever deserve. I still love him. Were he here, I would submit to him happily. There is no shame in loving someone. I care not what other people say. They all have their own torrid secrets. I fault you not for loving Jenny. She is a beautiful, happy girl. I count myself fortunate to have her serve me. You are not a beast, Jack. There is a beast that resides within you. I punished that beast today. But there is also a sweet man living in you. It took me the last hour or so to discover him, but I am convinced he is there. Do not believe that I think less of you because you have normal desires, which lead you in other than a normal direction."
He heard her. But her ministrations kept him at peak level as she spoke. He could feel himself leaking tiny bits of soothing semen. It was progressing through his prick in a slow crawl of intense anticipation at sudden relief.
"Please," he whispered. "I thank you for your mercy, but I am about to abuse it. I must spew if you don't remove yourself!"
"Oh that," she said, brushing her lips across his. "Simply close your eyes and pretend I am Jenny. While you mustn't soil my womb with your common seed, her womb is common as well, and welcomes your virile spend."
Then she kissed him, and put her muscles back to work. He was lost instantly. His balls jerked, his spike swelled, and rich jets of his seed leapt from the tip of his cock, bathing her innards in wet heat. Her kiss became more ardent, and the action of that hand inside her made it crystal clear, in an unfathomable way, that she welcomed what he was doing to her.
With that, he gave up all pretension and tried his best to breed her.
They lay, side by side, facing each other, but not touching. Each supported their heads on a hand, propped upon an elbow. She looked so beautiful that his heart ached.
"I shall never understand all that has happened to me this day," he said.
"It's not important that you understand it all," she said. "What is important is that you understand that your initial behavior will not be tolerated, either towards me, or towards any other girl in my care. You will not be allowed to be a beast."
"The beast in me has been tamed," he said, raising one hand in supplication. "You are my mistress, and your orders are mine to obey."
"Good," she said.
"Am I permitted to ask what happens now?" he asked.
"We get dressed, re-saddle the horses, and return to the manor, where I will resume my role as mistress of the manor, and you will resume your role as groom."
"That's the end of it?" he asked. She could hear the melancholy in his voice already, and smiled.
"Of course not. While you have forfeited the privilege of being the aggressor, that simply means that you will serve me at my pleasure, rather than yours. It would have been that way in any event. I am Your Lady, you know.
"You are," he said instantly, his eyes serious.
"In that case, you need to lie on your back again," she said. "I must reawaken that dragon you hide in your breeches, and make it spew fire one more time."
"You jest!" he laughed. "I feel lucky you haven't beaten me for losing control the last time."
"You didn't lose control," she said softly. "I wrested it from you."
"You meant for me to spew?" he asked, incredulous.
"Of course I did," she said. "What good is healthy, virile sperm if it isn't where it belongs ... in a fertile woman's belly?"
"But you said I could not!" he pointed out.
"There is no requirement that you understand everything that goes on in my mind," she said firmly. "Now, to your back, knave. Must I suck you again, or can you produce, of your own volition, a decent erection for my use?"
"I thought we were leaving," he said, not trying to avoid his duty. Rather he had learned from her how to tease a bit.
"We can't," she said. "Our horses are doing what I wish to do."
He rolled to look, and saw that Ninepins had mounted Starfire, and was slugging away at her with his yard-long horse cock. He rolled back to face her.
"Ninepins has not the restriction you have placed on me," he said. "You said I may not mount you in the male fashion."
"I did," she said. "I remind you, however, that I am the mistress of the manor. That means I am free to change my mind at whim." She rolled to lie on her back, legs drawn up, heels off the ground, her glistening sex open and on display.
Her mouth was not required. She had him place her heels on his shoulders. He had never taken a woman in this position before. As she had ridden him, she had gotten him as deep inside her as would ever be possible. That part was no different. But she was bent nearly in half, and he was clearly in control. That factor, plus the sensation of being able to plumb her depths, moving in and out, this time, had him on edge within minutes. Sweat dripped off his face, and struck her cheek.
"I am inflamed," he gasped.
"Of course you are," she said, smiling. "Are you thinking of Jenny again?"
"No," he gasped. "I cannot."
"Sweet boy," she laughed. "Do you wish to soil the womb of your mistress again?"
"Oh yes," he admitted.
"Then do so," she commanded.
Upon their return, Curtis heard them coming at a trot, and hurried out. They had been gone a long time. The previous lady hadn't ridden at all, and Lord Malcom only went out for half an hour, once a week at the most, these days. But the sun had moved past high noon while they were gone, and Curtis had been thinking about going out and looking for them.
Jack's face could not be ignored.
"What the deuce happened?" gasped Curtis.
"I was thrown," said Jack. "Landed in a thicket." He shrugged.
Penelope ignored the groom and dismounted without waiting for Curtis to assist.
"It was a fine ride, Stablemaster. I commend you on the condition of our stock. Your groom could use a riding lesson or two, but he was a tolerable escort. I leave these fine beasts in your care."
Curtis couldn't see the kiss she blew Jack, behind Starfire's flank, as she left the stable.
"How was your ride, Milady?" asked Sally, upon her mistress' return to her chambers.
"Delightful," replied Penny. "I require a bath, however. I smell like horse."
Jenny had anticipated that desire, and entered the room with a bucket of hot water.
Penelope acted as if everything was normal, letting Sally help her disrobe. Sally acted normally too ... until she saw the streak of darker material in the crotch of Penny's riding breeches. Her eyes were drawn to her lady's crotch, when it became visible. Almost immediately, an unmistakable drool leaked from lips still engorged from their abuse.
"My Lady!" gasped the girl.
Jenny turned at the gasp, having poured the bucket of hot water into the tub. She was met with the startled eyes of her friend. Those eyes darted towards Penelope's crotch, and Jenny's eyes followed. She, too, saw the evidence of scandal.
"Mistress!" she squealed.
Penny looked down, and again reached to scoop up a dollop of her shame.
"It was a delightful ride indeed," she purred.
"But who?" gasped Sally, and then covered her mouth at her indiscretion.
"I was accompanied by a guard," she said casually. "It seems he guarded me perhaps too well." She smiled. "Or not well enough, I suppose. I am weak when it comes to resisting a handsome man."
"A guard?" Her usage of that word as a title was unfamiliar. There were no military men about the estate.
"An escort," said Her Ladyship. "Someone you know, in fact," she teased.
I pause here to remind you of Penelope's talent at making an untoward situation seem entirely normal. She had begun the debauchery of her lady's maids, and she expanded on that now, acting as if her indiscretions were no more than a simple aside from her usual comportment. The girls would come to learn that, rather than being an aside, such behavior was, in fact, sought out on a regular basis.
"Someone we know?" Sally's voice held intense curiosity. It should not have. She should have ignored both the evidence, and the teasing comments Her Lady had made. But Penelope was not the average mistress, and so the behavior of her attendants became less average as well.
Penelope sucked her finger clean, and made a face of relished pleasure. She scooped up another dollop of cream and held her finger out.
"Perhaps a taste would tell you who helped make my ride such fun?"
Sally backed off, as well she should have. But these girls had tasted such before, (I shudder at the thought) and I suppose it is but a small step to go from tasting it from the source, to tasting it in "used" condition. Such was the power of Penelope's wiles.
"I couldn't," said Sally.
"Of course you could," countered Her Ladyship.
"But it came from ... there?" said Sally, actually pointing to the repository from which the goo was leaking.
"Not ready for that, yet?" said Penelope. Her voice communicated not shock or disgust, but rather patience ... and expectation that Sally might, someday, relish the opportunity to sup from that particular cup. And, as astonishing as it must be to you (it certainly was to me!) Sally's answer proved the power of the witch's spell.
"Not yet," she agreed, her voice shocked.
Penelope turned to Jenny. "What of you, sweet Jenny? Do you, perchance, desire to see if you recognize the taste?"
"But I have only tasted such from one source," said Jenny, who had the decency to blush.
"And could not Louis have accompanied me?"
"My brother?" squeaked Sally. "But how?"
Penny sucked that finger clean too.
"No matter. You have missed your chance - the both of you. Now, bathe me."
Penny was like that. She would suggest the most outrageous thing, and then return to her haughty manner, becoming the mistress once again, and demanding to be served. The demand to be served was expected, from a lady of her high standing. And perhaps she used that expectation, and the servant's automatic response to it, to manipulate people into engaging, at least eventually, in any command she gave them. Most lady's maids did not actually lay hands on their mistress in her bath. At least I've never heard of such. But by resisting her most outrageous command, she got them to engage in something only a little less confounding.
"Wash me well," she said, leaning back in the tub with a sigh. "It probably wouldn't do to have that lusty fellow's seed find an unlucky egg. The master has only bedded me once since my arrival, and even he could tell his efforts were less than satisfactory. It would be better, I suppose, if he prodded me a few more times before my belly swells."
I cannot communicate my amazement that the girls went about their task with relish.
Of course the girls were too curious not to investigate who escorted Her Ladyship on her ride. In actuality, no investigation was required. The story of how that unfortunate man's face came to be so marked was too good not to spread across the manor, though his reputation prevented anyone from teasing or taunting him. They had yet to learn that a simple ride with the Lady Penelope could bring about astonishing change in a man's usual behavior.
In fact, only one person noticed that he did not scowl as much, and that he seemed more at ease than usual.
That person was his sister, Jenny.
She had to seek him out when she heard he had been the lady's escort. She could not believe it. She knew him to be a brash and confident man, often accused of being too aggressive. But in her life, she had known him as the only man, other than her father, who she had ever felt tug at her heart strings. Other men were interesting, sometimes, but only that. Her brother had never been either coarse or bellicose in his relationship with her. And she could not believe that it was possible that he had lain with her mistress. She had seen the unmistakable evidence that someone had done so ... but it couldn't have been Jack!
She found him currying a huge, black stallion, from the belly of which hung something long and thick. She knew what it was, of course. She'd seen horses before. But not up close like this. She bent over, peering to make sure it was real, and not some accouterment hung on the horse's body for some unfathomable purpose. Jack turned his head as her feet shuffled in the straw on the floor.
"Jenny!" he said, his voice tight. She had no way of knowing that the image of the very naked Lady Farnsworth rushed into his mind. Specifically, the way she looked when, as he imagined spurting in his little sister's belly, he let his sexual hose flow copiously. Being on top of her, with her ankles hooked on his shoulders, had made her completely helpless, and that had permitted him to imagine her as Jenny. He was still confused about that.
"Jack," she returned, still staring at the stallion's equipment.
"It sometimes happens when they are curried," he said, in embarrassment.
"Oh," she said. She looked at him.
"Your face!" she moaned.
"I fell into some bushes," he said, automatically. He had confessed this lie a dozen times, it seemed. He had gotten used to the shame, and accepted the looks he got without heat. He considered it part of his punishment for attempting to force Her Ladyship.
"How?" she said. "You've never fallen before."