The Butler’s Tale
Introduction:
Fuck the Arstocracy That’s my motto
My employer, or at least, my employer’s mother the dowager Lady H, was her usual disagreeable self.
The Dowager or Lady Margaret. She must have been in her forties though she would have passed for sixty with ease in her dowdy black widows attire. She was still in mourning for her late husband who had departed this mortal coil some two years since. A happy release the staff surmised. Not that he was ill, merely hen pecked.
She read the last of her letters. She sighed in resignation and she turned on me once more.
“Hanson, tell me,” she said in her superior voice, “What do you do for amusement on your day off.”
“I see my mother and sister, Madam.” I replied.
“You don’t have some little woman hidden away then?” she probed.
I was thoroughly fed up with being a butler. Ten years I served in the Devon and Somerset Yeomanry rising to colour sergeant. Yet when the peace came a butler was the only post I could secure.
“No Madam.” I replied.
“A boy then,” she taunted mischievously, “I knew it, a sodomite!”
“No Madam.” I insisted.
She liked humiliating me. I looked at her though carefully so not as to make eye contact.
“Oh you are!” she clapped her hands delightedly.
I had had enough of her. I resolved to resign forthwith.
“No Madam, after my home visit I go to the brothel in Horton which his lordship frequented,” I lied. “Therein I engage his lordship’s favourite whore. I have her dress all in black as his lordship did. Then I beat her with a horse whip like his lordship did shouting, ‘Take that Margaret you bitch! before throwing her upon the bed and fucking her up her backside.”
“Ah ha, I knew you were a sodomite, it is in the eyes!” she said delightedly. “You’re lying of course. He fornicated with every buxom wench he could lay hands on, but pay. You must be joking.”
“Exaggerating slightly, perhaps Madam.” I admitted.
“So Hanson, are you saying you would like to thrash me with a horse whip and sodomise me?” she asked.
“That would be illegal Madam.” I explained.
“Would you like to whip me with a horse whip?” she asked.
“Indeed, I think I should enjoy that very much,” I confessed.
“Oh!” she squealed delightedly, “What fun! ah that will be all Hanson. Thank you.”
I expected to be dismissed on the spot but she was actually laughing.
His Lordship and his young wife Lady Jane returned in time for dinner so I had to be on duty in the dining room.
They ate the sumptuous repast with all the decorum of pigs at a trough, and drank the fine wine as if it were lemon cordial.
“I say,” Lady Margaret, the Dowager, suddenly announced after rather too much french wine, “It would appear that Hanson here has a passion for whipping poor unsuspecting wenches with a horse whip.”
“Has he been abusing the servants?” Lord H enquired.
“No,” she replied, “But a reliable source tells me he likes to have some common trollop dress in mourning black and then he whips and sodomises them.”
“Good God mother, in black?” Lord H laughed, “Perhaps you have an admirer! What say you Hanson?”
“I should thrash her within an ounce of her life given a half chance my lord,” I explained.
“Capital, capital!” Lord H laughed, “Oh you are a comedian Hanson and no mistake. Thrash Mama. She would eat you for breakfast!”
“Indeed My Lord,” I agreed and I blushed crimson.
“Time for the Port I think,” Lord H laughed, “Well, well, well, what a thought Mama horse whipped by the servants!”
“Geoffrey, please!” Lady Jane chided. Poor Lady Jane. Barely twenty two. Married two years and still childless. Cook said it was because Lord H was impotent though how she knew was unclear.
The meal finished and the family retired. I took my supper with cook and the maids downstairs.
I went to bed confused. I had expected to be dismissed instantly for insubordination.I could not comprehend the Dowager’s reaction.
Normality returned for a few days until both Lord H and Lady Jane went hunting.
I was in the kitchen when the Dowager’s bedroom bell rang. Bessie the maid went at once but returned quickly. “The Dowager wants Mr Hanson,” she announced.
I went at once, “Yes Madam?” I ventured as I entered her room after knocking politely.
“Come in close the door, there is a draught,” she ordered. “I have something for you.”
She handed me a smart leather bound case, unusually long and thin. “Open it then.” she ordered.
I opened the case. It contained a somewhat used horse whip.
“Is that what you wanted?” she asked.
“Only in my dreams,” I admitted.
“Oh well, my mistake,” she said. “Bolt the door and drop your trousers.”
“Madam?” replied uncertainly.
“Bolt the door and drop your trousers I shall not tell you again,” she repeated.
“Yes Madam, certainly Madam,” I replied and I slid the door bolt along and returned to stand before her as she sat on the bed fully dressed I might add.
“Trousers down Hanson,” she ordered, “I need to inspect your equipment.”
“Yes Madam.” I replied again and duly undid my belt and let my trousers slide to the floor.
“And underpants,” she added.
“Yes Madam,” I agreed. I had a problem. My member like a tent pole, making a tent of my underpants.
Carefully I eased them down.
”Very promising,” she said admiringly, “Standing to attention already, my Henry needed a riding crop up his backside before he showed any inclination at all.”
“Madam,” I agreed. She reached out and touched my cock. She gripped the shaft and then rubbed a finger over the eye at the top where a bead of pre cum glistened.
She licked that finger, “Not bad,” she agreed, “You will do.”
She lay back across the wide double bed. She pulled up her skirts and I saw she wore no underwear what so ever. Just a suspender belt and stockings. Her quim was entirely exposed. Freshly shaven and probably perfumed. “Fuck me Hanson, earn your wages for once,” she ordered.
“Of course Madam,” I replied and I swiftly undid my black patent leather indoor shoes and pulled my trousers underpants and socks off to stand before her.
“I do so like a man who takes his socks off,” she laughed as she lay with her knees raised and parted, “Such consideration. Now fuck me you brute!”
I advanced towards her, I guided my penis towards her and the first contact I made was my cock to her quim. It was soft, moist, hot, yielding. My penis glided in like a knife through hot butter.
It was so long since I last had a woman. My member revelled in his employment. Pleasant sensations raced through my consciousness. She moaned. I kissed her.
“No kissing,” she said, “No undue familiarity.”
“Sorry Madam,” I apologised, “Shall I fuck you tenderly or shall I use you like a whore?”
“Use your discretion Hanson,” she suggested, “After all that is what Butlers are supposed to do.”
“Thank you Madam,” I said. “In that case take that you bitch,” I said and I slammed into her.
“Not quite what I had in mind,” she laughed, “I would prefer less talking and more effort.”
No kissing, no talking, it was like using an Army brothel again except I did not have my army issue prophylactic sheath.
Suddenly the passion built to a crescendo, the volcano was about to erupt, “Madam,” I said urgently, “I think I had better.”
But she grasped my buttocks, “Yes!” she said, “Release fill me, flood me make me feel like a woman again.”
I had no answer the floodgates were well and truly open and my cock was pumping like a fire hose.
I stilled. “You will do,” she said abruptly, “Back to your duties.”
She wriggled out from under me, walked to the door, slid back the bolt and strode away down the corridor.
I scrabbled to get dressed and hurried downstairs.
She was in the kitchen, “Oh do hurry up Bessie,” she complained.
“Madam?” I queried.
“Go away Hanson you have done enough,” she chided. “Fetch a warm towel and wipe me girl.”
Lady Margaret sat with her skirt raised and knees spread waiting for the maid to wipe her quim and thighs, “I am afraid Hanson was more potent than I imagined.”
“Have you been fucking the butler Madam,” Bessie gasped.
“No you stupid girl, he has been fucking me,” she snapped. I could scarce believe her forthrightness and lack of decorum.
Poor Bessie blushed crimson. “Oh!” she replied in shocked surprise.
“Has he not been fucking you girl?” she asked.
“No Madam, I am a good girl!” Bessie insisted.
“A very foolish girl more likely,” Lady H insisted. “Anyway back to the kitchen your work is done here.”
She saw me standing there watching. “Have to keep the lower orders in their place or lord knows what would happen,” she explained.
For the remainder of the day and the following day Lady Margaret was her usual disagreeable self but then Lord H went to London alone and arranged to spend the night at his club.
Lady Margaret was in a playful mood, uncharacteristically charming, especially at dinner.
The two ladies took an early supper and on their retiring to bed I took my supper downstairs.
But the bell soon summoned Bessie to the Dowager’s bedroom and then Bessie returned with the message that I was required.
I knocked politely. “Come in,” Lady Margaret ordered. “Bolt the door there’s a good chap.”
I did as she asked, and found to my astonishment Lady Jane sitting upon the stool at Lady Margaret’s dressing table.
Lady Margaret wasted no time “Ah Hanson, I do believe we are in need of your special attributes. My son being a somewhat feeble and sickly individual has thus far singularly failed to provide dear Jane with offspring. It has been remarked upon and causes some embarrassment within society.”
“Indeed Madam?” I replied.
“So Hanson, do you see a solution to this impasse?” she asked.
“Not immediately Madam,” I admitted.
“Well I do,” Lady Margaret explained, “I did a brief test to establish Hanson’s potency Jane and he is quite adequate in that regard.”
“You make him sound like a prize bull,” Lady Jane teased.
“Bronze prize perhaps,” she suggested. “But more a stallion to the family’s brood mare.”
“Oh so am I no more than a brood mare?” Lady Jane asked.
“Rather less I fear,” Lady Margaret admitted, “But Hanson has staunch haunches, good lungs, good temperament and a wise head and has features not dissimilar to my son’s so I believe he will make a admirable stallion.”
“Do I have any say in this Madam,” I enquired.
“No you do not, your task is to impregnate my daughter in law,” Lady Margaret insisted, “Surely you have no objections?”
I looked at Lady Jane, a vision of lovliness as she looked at me and looked away embarrassed.
“Er, well she does look a little young and vulnerable?” I suggested.
“Good lord, she’s been married for two years and fucked lord knows how many times.” Lady Margaret snapped.
“Thirty seven,” Lady Jane confirmed.
“Hanson would have exceeded that in a fortnight,” Lady Margaret sighed, “My son is a terrible disappointment Hanson, his father was a tedious bore but he could be persuaded to perform. I do confess I am at my wits end over this son and heir business.”
“Then I shall do my duty Madam,” I agreed.
“No tenderness, no consideration, no love, simply impregnate her like a bull serving his cow,” Lady Margaret insisted, “I shall of course supervise.”
“Are you content with this My Lady?” I enquired of Lady Jane.
“If you are Hanson,” she agreed.
“It will be my pleasure Madam,” I confessed as I looked at her, all sweet and soft and vulnerable and ripe for fucking.
“On the bed please Jane, spread your legs so Hanson may impregnate you.” Lady Margaret ordered, “Trousers off Hanson.”
I responded with alacrity, I shed my shoes and trousers, socks and underpants and my jacket and would have been naked but for Lady Margaret’s cry to desist. “Enough!” she cried.
Lady Jane was lying on the bed, her knees parted and raised her underthings removed and her quim clearly displayed.
I stared, “To your duty Hanson,” Lady Margaret urged.
I climbed onto the bed, my member now fully erect, rampant indeed. The Lady Margaret grasped my member from behind me, reaching through my legs and aiming it at the younger woman’s quim.
My member brushed her quim but it was unyielding, the poor girl was not in the least excited, and no wonder.
“A moment My Lady,” I requested and I raised myself up and slid down the bed.
I kissed her inner thigh, she gasped and so I slowly edged my kisses upwards towards her quim, “Ohhhh!” she gasped, “Henry has never done that!”
I kissed her mound and then parted her lower lips with my fingers and ran my tongue around the moist groove between.
“Ohhhhh Hanson!” Lady Jane gasped.
She was ready so I swiftly slid up the bed again and Lady Margaret guided my member into Jane’s now hot and willing quim.
“Oh Hanson, that is divine, kiss me!” she pleaded.
“No familiarity!” Lady Margaret insisted.
I kissed Jane’s neck.
“No, desist I say!” Lady Margaret repeated.
“Oh that feels so good!” Jane cooed, “Tell me you love me!”
“Hush my angel,” I said quietly and I silenced her with a kiss on her lips.
“No, I forbid it. Absolutely. Desist I say!” Lady Margaret demanded and she grabbed the horse whip from its leather bound case and slashed me across the buttocks.
I flinched.
“Oh yessss!” Lady Jane gasped as I thrust even more firmly.
“Oh just be done!” Lady Margaret insisted in resignation, “Just be done.”
Jane was smiling up at me, her eyes shining, “Ohhh that is sooo nice,”she sighed, “You must give Henry some lessons!”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Lady Margaret snapped, “Oh finish can’t you!”
“Yes Madam,” I agreed for my balls were churning and a solid jet of cum erupted from my shaft making Jane gasp as the gush of semen surged into her vagina.
“Oh gosh Hanson,” Jane gasped, “You are so passionate!”
“Far too passionate, too passionate by half,” Lady Margaret retorted, “I told you no tenderness!”
“Madam is simply jealous,” I explained.
“Don’t be so impertinent!” Lady Margaret snapped though she blushed crimson as she said it, “And put your trousers on you will frighten the servants!”
“Certainly Madam,” I replied sarcastically as I proceeded to find my trousers and shoes.
I dressed and left the ladies as I returned to the downstairs.
“You been fucking the old bitch again?” Bessie asked.
“No, the young one,” I said, “The old bitch sort of supervised!”
“Oh,” Bessie sighed, “That’s why you got lipstick on your cheek.”
I looked in the mirror and wiped it away.
The bedroom bell rang, “Oh damn and blast,” Bessie sighed, “Now what!”
She went away and returned a few minutes later, “They wants tea and biscuits in the bedroom!” she snapped. “That Miss Jane has a grin like a Cheshire cat, what the hell you done to her Hanson?”
“Ah well come to my room later and I’ll show you!” I laughed.
As it happened I spent the entire night alone, no Ladies, no Bessie.
The next morning Lady Margaret was perhaps even more obnoxious than usual. She belittled and tormented me incessantly, “I do believe you have missed your vocation as a gigolo Mr Hanson!” she taunted me after luncheon as I followed her along the upstairs corridor.
I lifted her skirt and tucked my thumbs in the waistband of her pantaloons and pulled them to her knees.
“Mister Hanson!” she gasped.
“Madam?” I queried as I thrust my hand between her thighs and rubbed my thumb against her quim.
“Mister Hanson please!” she protested but it was a hollow protest. She let her underthings fall and stepped decorously out of them, “Pick them up!” she ordered.
“In due course Madam,” I replied and I put my free arm around her and pulled her to me as I kissed her neck.
“Stop!” she hissed, as I caressed her left breast. Her nipple stirred.
“You were jealous when I kissed Lady Jane,” I whispered, “You want to be loved.”
“Well certainly not by you,” she replied crossly. Her body had other ideas. Her rapidly thawing quim was moistening and my thumb edged slowly inside her.
“Here in the corridor or in your bed room, you choose,” I invited.
“Bedroom!” she whispered, “Be quiet.”
We shuffled towards her bedroom with my thumb still inside her. She opened the door, I closed and bolted it.
“Hanson, what has come over you?” she hissed.
“I don’t really know,” I explained, “But you do seem a much nicer person when you have been fucked!”
“Typical!” she sighed, “But I do miss having a man around,” and she knelt down and leaned over the end of the bed, “No familiarity remember.”
“Really?” I queried and I kissed her neck.
“Absolutely,” she insisted, “Don’t pretend Hanson, you have no more regard for me than I do for you.”
“No Madam,” I agreed as I worked my thumb around inside her and released my belt and dropped my trousers with the other.
My member sprang free, stiff and rampant and I eased it slowly into her now moist vagina. As soon as I was fully sheathed I began to unwrap her bosoms, “Hanson please!” she protested but soon her mammaries filled my hands as I fucked her rhythmically from behind.
“Oh Hanson, that feels so good!” she gasped.
“Not an unpleasant way to while away an afternoon,” I agreed, “And now, if Madam is ready I feel it is time to ejaculate!”
I shot my load inside her. A dozen spurts may be more, each weaker than the one before until I was drained.
“Thank you Hanson, that was most agreeable,” she conceded as we separated a few moments later, “But really you cannot just pull my underwear down on a whim.”
“Then don’t wear underwear Madam,” I suggested quite reasonably.
“That is quite enough, don’t be so impertinent!” she said but she smiled.
