In the time of Queen Victoria’s reign on the south slopes of Dartmoor, in the County of Devon in Southern England

Miss Blenkinsopp’s sacrifice.

I saw Morelands for the first time that morning. The sun shone gold on the honeyed sandstone of the frontage as I approached from the south. It looked huge. I wanted a country retreat, this was almost a mansion.

“My God Carstairs,” I asked of my lawyer, “What have I done?”

“Bought a pig in a poke Geoffrey,” he surmised, “You thought it a bargain.”

“No one said it was on top of a mountain!” I replied.

“We don’t have mountains in Devon!” he laughed.

I groaned, it had seemed such a bargain and Mother had repeatedly urged me to buy an estate so in a moment of madness I had snapped up Colonel Melchett’s country residence when it came up for auction. I had not even intended to bid for it but after being outbid on a property in Plymouth the red mist had descended.

I had not expected a sandstone frontage. I had not expected anything so large having misread the specification as 10 rooms whereas it was10 bedrooms plus servants quarters, and I had certainly not expected to find the entire staff lined up awaiting my arrival.

Hawkins the Butler, Mrs Rogers the cook, Bessie the maid and Miss Blenkinsopp the housekeeper as well as countless gardeners and estate workers, all on tenterhooks as to whether I would take them into my employment.

I greeted them and when Hawkins had introduced me to Miss Blenkinsopp I asked her to make up bedrooms for myself and Carstairs and jokingly asked her to arrange a couple of maids to keep us warm at night.

“I most certainly shall not!” Miss Blenkinsopp insisted.

“Well if you wish to remain in my employ you will make sure I want for nothing, is that clear.” I demanded as I realised Miss Blenkinsopp was one employee I should probably be better off without.

“Yes Mr Robinson,” she agreed, “I understand.”

We ate a reasonable dinner, and a tolerable supper but when bed time came there was no willing maid.

“Miss Blenkinsopp,” I shouted in frustration, “A moment of your time.”

She came in her night gown, “Mr Robinson, what ever is the matter.”

“No maid, I ordered a maid, now find me a maid or I shall dismiss you with no references,” I insisted.

She glared at me, “In that case,” she said, “I shall warm you myself!”

I just stared, “You?” She stood looking at me. She was no innocent maid, she had to be nearer forty than thirty, almost my age in fact, but she was comely, and may even have been a beauty once.

“When I say warm I mean mount?” I clarified.

“If I must,” she agreed.

“I said a maid,” I reminded her.

“Sir, I am untouched and am undoubtedly barren so there should be no embarrassment.” she suggested.

I smiled “So be it then, disrobe and let me take advantage of your ample bosoms.”

“I prefer to disrobe beneath the bedclothes if I must,” she insisted.

“So be it,” I agreed. I watched as she peeled back the bed clothes and slipped nervously into the bed.

I followed. I blew out the last candle. Moonlight cast its eerie glow across the chamber. The bed was cold. I embraced her and slipped my hands to the hem of her nightdress and slid it upwards until her breasts were freed. I slipped my own nightshirt up and over my head and then lay beside her.

The mass of clothes around her neck annoyed me and in a trice I had her raise her arms that I might slip it off her and we lay together warming each other.

My member reared against her belly. I reached and felt a mass of wiry hair, “That must go, I want my whores clean shaven,” I said without thinking.

She half sobbed, “That was cruel, I apologise,” I said, “But it will increase you pleasure.”

“What do you care about my pleasure!” she replied.

“Madam, the cry of ecstasy when a woman reaches her peak of excitement is always my aim, it is my signal to release my seed do you see?” I asked but she had no knowledge of ecstasy so my words were in vain.

I continued to explore with my finger. She was terrified. She shook with fear. I changed tack. I nuzzled and kissed her neck. I rolled her left teat between finger and thumb. I tenderly squeezed the hairy mound next her womb.

She moaned involuntarily as she came to know something of pleasure. Her teat distended. Her breath came in short gasps. My finger traced the groove down from the hairy mound. I found the soft moist spot and eased a finger inside. I felt resistance. I tried a second finger and found the same. She was indeed untouched.

Untouched yet moist. I eased her thighs apart and slid over her. My member strained mightily as he had not had a gallop for too long and I gently aimed him between her soft moist lips.

“Are you prepared?” I asked.

“As I shall ever be,” she replied.

I eased myself into her. She gasped. She bit her tongue. Resistance. I eased back and thrust hard and quite suddenly my member was deep inside her.

“Can you bear it?” I asked.

“Indeed,” she agreed,

“Then I shall take you to heaven!” I promised rather rashly. I started to move within her gently at first then building a rhythm. I own that it was rather pleasant. My cares melted away and the thought she was barren appealed greatly as with no danger of offspring I felt able to gallop all the way to emission and beyond.

She seemed to respond, I fully expected her to lie like a dead fish but she seemed to be willing me on, spurring me to ever more forceful endeavours until at last I ejaculated forcibly making her gasp in delight.

“Thank you,” I said as I rolled aside and lay exhausted, “Thank you indeed.”

I woke with the dawn. She had risen already. “Good morning sir.” She said and she blushed as I stepped naked from the bed.

“It is indeed, and I thank you.” I said cheerily, “And what better way to start the day than a pleasant fuck.”

“Sir, last night, well.” she blustered.

“Delightful,” I insisted, “Now simply learn a few tricks to please me and your continued employment is assured.”

She would not look me in the eye. “Sir, I don’t know what came over me. I am mortified to think of how I behaved.”

“Miss Blenkinsopp,” I replied, “For myself I was delighted at the way you behaved last night. It was quite delightful. I slept like a log. In fact I wish to avail myself of your charms again.”

“No, it must cease,” she said. She turned away. I stepped towards her and embraced her.

“No!” she exclaimed.

I cupped her breasts in my hands and nuzzled her neck, “Yes,” I insisted. I dropped a hand down to her belly and squeezed her mound.

“No,” she said despairingly but her body betrayed her. Her teats were hardened. Her quim moistening. I had her bend over the dressing table. I raised the hem of her night gown. My member reared and in a moment I had guided him within her parted buttocks and in to her soft split peach.

“Ohhh sir no sir,” she gasped as I gripped her mounds firmly as I pleasured myself again.

I noticed the grey streaks in her hair but it did not bother me unduly. She had wonderful little ear lobes, very nibble-able. I kissed her neck tenderly as I fucked her. I watched her face in the dressing table mirror as she watched mine.

She could not disguise her pleasure. Even if she had wanted to, she smiled helplessly into the mirror and I grinned in my turn as we fucked greedily, Grasping for every ounce of pleasure.

Release came easily and I expelled freely within her. Carelessly flooding her parts where with a young maid I should have taken more care. It was a delight to cum inside her and not to have to expell between the buttocks or between the mounds.

I pulled out of her with reluctance. She seemed quite shocked at the intensity of our passion. She slipped from my room like a wraith and by the time I had washed and dressed she was downstairs supervising breakfast.

I resolved to sample her again that evening but before lunch I was called away.

I went first to Totnes, then by train to Bristol and finally to London.

As for Miss Blenkinsopp I did not forget her but rather pushed her to the back of my mind.

Mother periodically chided me for not marrying and suggested various suitable young ladies most of whom I was sadly old enough to be their fathers, and sadly Devon and Morelands slipped further from my thoughts.

The winter passed and the spring came again and quite suddenly Miss Blenkinsopp was thrust right into the centre of my consciousness.

I was at my London desk when Wainwright my clerk knocked and said In had a visitor, a Miss Blenkinsopp. I did not recognise the name.

“Blenkinsopp?” I queried, “Send her up.”

She waddled awkwardly into my office, “Miss Blenkinsopp?” I queried as I saw she was heavily with child.

“From Morelands sir,” she explained, “In Devon, do you remember.”

“Morelands? My country house, Miss Blenkinsopp?” I queried, “But.”

“Yes sir Morelands,” she confirmed.

“And the child?” I enquired.

“Yours sir,” she said, “I know not what to do, I cannot hide it any longer.”

“Mine, are you sure?” I asked as I looked at her sad eyes and greying hair.

“I have laid with none but you,” she stated.

“My god, I’m to be a father, good lord. I must have been blackmailed for hundreds of guineas for children which were not mine!” I laughed, “But you are in earnest, my god.”

“Sir,” she said, “I had no idea.”

“And what do you want from me?” I asked, “Money presumably?”

“To retain my employment,” she pleaded.

“With a child, that would be a scandal,” I laughed. “I don’t even know your first name.”

“Serena sir.” she said meekly.

“Serena, its a good while since I last poked a mother to be, shall you oblige me?” I asked.

“No sir.” she refused.

“But Miss Blenkinsopp do you not remember the morning when I bent you over the dressing table? Shall we not visit heaven again?”

“You remember?” she asked.

“Oh I remember,” I agreed, “A grey haired virgin, how could I forget.”

“And your child?” she asked.

I looked her in the eye. “Take your coat off. Lift your skirts. Lower your underpants. Bend over my desk and remind me of what I ever saw in you.”

“Sir you toy with me!” she protested.

I locked my office door, “No I want to feel you,” I explained and I slipped my arms around her from behind and held her breasts. Full ripe breasts. I held her bump with my child and then I wrenched down her skirts and underthings. Her suspenders were a challenge but I unhooked her stockings and bared her backside.

He quim pouted obscenely when seen from behind her as she supported herself on her elbows as I bent her over the desk.

“My baby!” she pleaded, but her body had betrayed her again. Her quim was moist. I dropped my trousers and buried my member in her quim. She gasped. I held her breasts and kissed her neck as I pounded in to her.

“Ohhhhh, she groaned and I remembered how delightful our liaisons had been in Devon.

It was akin to pulling on a favourite pair of slippers, very pleasant if unspectacular.

The moment came soon enough, my cares melted away and then my member exploded delightfully filling her already filled womb with my seed. It was extremely pleasant and I determined to repeat the experience frequently.
“Yes, you will do, I shall find a room for you where I may call from time to time to enjoy a gallop,” I suggested.

“I want to continue to serve in Devon, will you not help me?” she asked.

“Oh very well, go to my town house, ask for Mrs Hamworthy and say you are my whore for the time being and ask to be accommodated.” I suggested.

“I shall say no such thing!” she replied angrily.

“And leave your underpants off I may need to fuck you with some urgency.” I insisted and indeed I picked up her underpants and slipped them into my breast pocket. I handed her a coin. “Here,” I said, “A guinea for your fare.”

She dressed and scowled at me, “Very well, so be it.” I unlocked the door and let her leave.

I returned home at seven o’clock. I went indoors. I hung my hat on the hat stand and my coat on the coat hook and then Mother approached in a blind fury, “Geoffrey what on earth have you been doing?”

“Sorry?” I enquired.

“Miss Blenkinsopp Geoffrey, she is with child!” she insisted.

“Indeed she is my whore of the moment,” I suggested.

“But Geoffrey,” Mother exclaimed, “You do not understand, Miss Blenkinsopp’s mother, Clara, was my friend. We came out together, Geoffrey. I knew the family had problems. The estate went to a distant cousin when her father died, and she clearly had to accept employment in a menial role but to treat her like a common harlot is insufferable.”

“Very well then cast her out,” I suggested.

“Geoffrey,” Mother insisted. “It will not do, Miss Blenkinsopp is a very tolerable person and I am determined that you shall treat her correctly.”

“Very well announce the engagement in the Times, if we take care we can have a christening and wedding combined,” I laughed.

“That is not funny Geoffrey, no you shall be married in the registry office at Totnes and hope none of our friends notice,” she insisted.

“I said it in jest mother,” I sighed.

“But wed her you shall Geoffrey and that is my final word,” Mother declared firmly.
“Oh, and what does Miss Blenkinsopp say?” I enquired.

“That is not at issue, she will do what is necessary,” Mother insisted.

Miss Blenkinsopp joined us. “I understand we are to be married Serena,” I suggested.

“Yes, your mother suggested it might be a solution,” she replied.

“Then we are agreed,” I laughed, “No love just a convenience!”

“On the contrary sir, I fell in love with you the moment I saw you,” she replied.

I was utterly shocked, “What did you say?” I demanded.

She looked me in the eye and stated “I love you, why else do you think I let you make love to me?”

“Oh bloody hell,” I said and I sat down, “Gosh.”

Mother broke the silence, “I will have Mrs Hamworthy put an extra pillow in your bed Geoffrey.”

“Yes,” I agreed.

Mother continued “And you will need a nursery and if it is a girl you will need a wet nurse.”

“Why?” I enquired.

“For an heir Geoffrey. No time to waste, if it is a girl back in harness straight away,” Mother insisted.

It was altogether a very quiet affair, a simple ceremony at the registration office at Totnes Assises, a quiet reception, a brief sojourn at Morelands and then the patter of tiny feet.

A girl. So it was back in harness and try for a boy. No success yet but it has proved to be very enjoyable and satisfying trying. Many a good tune is played on an old fiddle!

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