Lady May

Lady May sprawled languidly across her four post bed. The rumpled black silk blankets still glistened with moisture from her exertions. Her long blonde hair splayed out wetly across the pillow and she reached out for a cigarette.

“Carson!” she cried, “My cigarettes!”

Carson waited at his station beside the stairwell as was his wont when Madame was entertaining, ready to welcome guests or serve his employers with equal facility as befits a butler, so swiftly grasping a small pack of her Ladyship’s cigarettes from the store cupboard he strode away down the corridor.

He knocked the door, paused, and entered. “Madam!” he answered as he entered the room.

“Ciggies Carson, ciggies.” Lady May demanded.

“Ciggies Madam,” Carson replied as he handed the slim pack to her, “Though not your favoured ones I fear, there is a war on you know.”

“Don’t I bloody know!” she complained, “Bloody Chamberlain, why can’t he be nice to Mr Hitler then Freddie can come home.”

“I think there is more too it than that Madam,” Carson observed, “Has Mr Davies left Madam?”

“No, he’s getting dressed, I wore him out!” she laughed, “Poor lamb, oh and get rid of the Johnny would you,” she asked pointing to a used condom dumped on a saucer at the bedside.

“Yes Madam,” Carson agreed.

The door to the dressing room swung open and a slightly dishevelled Freddie Davies stepped through, a man in his thirties, married with three children, one of the Hertford Davies’s.

“What?” he demanded as he saw Carson.

“My Lady called,” he explained.

“I wanted some ciggies pumpkin,” she explained.

“Good lord is that the time,” he exclaimed, “Lord supposed to be at the war ministry by Two, must dash.” and he rushed away slamming the door behind him.

“Why don’t you join up Carson?” Lady May asked casually, “Because then I could employ a young fit butler and have rumpy pumpy whenever I like!”

“I would rather not say Madam,” Carson insisted, “But if I do not give satisfaction then allow me to resign.”

“Oh don’t be an ass,” she replied, “I know your secret, Annie Hayes told me, and don’t worry, I won’t tell.”

Carson’s mind raced, surely she could not know the secret, unless the real John Harold Wilberforce Carson had returned from America, she smiled and he knew she was probing.

“That is a great comfort to me Madam.” he agreed.

“Five years for buggery isn’t it nowadays?” she laughed.

He smiled, she was definitely probing, she could hardly be more wrong.

“Well isn’t it.” she queried.

“I really couldn’t say Madam,” he insisted, “Will that be all Madam?”

“Just the Johnny, oh and empty the chamber pots will you,” she said.

“Yes Madam,” he agreed, “When you go down.”

May was already regretting her whirlwind courtship and marriage to Stephen, with war clouds looming in the summer of 39, talk of girls working in factories and blackout, no cinema, theatre, night clubs, well what was a girl to do, after all she would be twenty four when the war ended if it lasted two years, so when Stephen offered marriage she readily agreed.

His country home with sixteen bedrooms set in twenty acres of parkland sounded idyllic and as a county retreat it was but with war declared May soon found herself marooned twenty miles from London with no bus and the petrol rationed so it was actually a complete nightmare.

May was bored, sex with Freddie had been hurried rather than frenzied and all she had to look forward to was a long boring evening beside the radio.

“Have you ever had relations with a girl Carson?” May asked suddenly as she sat up and pulled the straps of her dark blue silk nightdress back over her shoulders.

“Relations Madam?” he asked imperiously.

“Been to bed with, made love, fucked,” she expanded.

“I would rather not say Madam,” he replied.

“I knew it, I knew it!” she said delightedly, “How exciting!”

“Very droll Madam,” he agreed.

“Oh my lord, do you bend over?” she asked.

“Will that be all Madam?” Carson replied.

“No, I want an answer,” May insisted.

“I am not prepared to discuss personal matters with you my Lady,” he explained.

“I’ll dob you in to the Rozzers,” she said, “If you don’t tell.”

“No Madam, I do not bend over, may I go Madam?” he asked.

“Would you like to bugger me?” May asked outrageously.

“Madam!” Carson protested, “Some decorum please.”

“Well would you?” she repeated.

“No,” he insisted.

“I don’t believe you,” she said, “Take off your trousers.”

“I beg your pardon Madam?” Carson retorted.

“Take your Trousers off, chop chop,” May insisted.

“Are you instructing me to?” Carson asked incredulously.

“Yes, or be dismissed for gross misconduct!” she laughed.

“What misconduct?” he demanded.

“Oh, I’ll think of something, and your jacket,” she added, “And shoes and socks.”

Carson stared, it was completely outrageous, he should leave, but to have a beautiful young lady demand that he disrobe, such things were the stuff of dreams.

“Come on chop chop!” May repeated.

Slowly and carefully Carson removed his black long tailed jacket and slipped off his highly polished black shoes. he rolled each sock neatly and set it in the shoe and asked, “Are you sure my Lady?”

“Yes chop chop.” she replied.

He undid his fly buttons one by one and eased his black trousers down to sand before her bare legged in his shirt tails, starched collar and black tie.

“Hang them up,” she ordered and he stepped out of his trousers and laid them on a chair.

“That is truly amazing, insulting even,” May exclaimed, “Are you not the least bit excited?” she asked as she looked for Carson’s erection.

“Look,” she invited as she knelt on the bed and pulled her nightdress up to show her thighs, “Doesn’t your heart race?” she asked.

She smoothed the nightdress down and slipped the shoulder straps. The nightdress fell to her waist revealing her pert breasts. Carson Winced, “Don’t you like my boobies. What about my belly button. What about my cunt? I know,” she said as she whipped round, “My bottom.”

Carson groaned, May gasped, “Oh my lord you are having a heart attack!” she cried, “Oh god how do I explain this one!”

“No, it’s my straps, you will have to excuse me!” he said but there were sounds in the corridor and nowhere to go so Carson could do no more than turn his back and wrench his underpamts down to reveal the patent manhood restraint he habitually wore.

A leather triangle with six straps, something like a modern day thong kept his penis firmly pressed against his belly at all times but caused the most excruciating pain if for any reason he became aroused.

Six straps from root to penis tip, except this time his manhood had snagged the last strap instead of spearing under it as it swelled.

“Good God did a flash of my bottom do that to you?” May demanded as Carson struggled with the straps.

He looked round. May was laughing, he didn’t understand until he saw his reflection in the bedside mirror, a perfect side view of his erection.

“I really must apologise,” he said awkwardly.

“Come here,” May said firmly, “On the bed, I want to help you, to cure you, you silly man, poking bottoms, whatever next.”

Carson froze.

“On the bed now or I scream ‘Rape'” May insisted.

Carson went to pull his pants up but May intervened, “No pants, on the bed, oh and take that ridiculous shirt off.”

Carson did as he was told. He was unsure of what to do. Unsure of what she wanted from him and desperate not to make a mistake.

He removed his tie and cufflinks, the false starched shirt front and the shirt and for completeness his vest.

He didn’t look like Carson any more, May thought. He just looked like any one of a dozen lovers she had entertained, but not a lover, a gigolo, and she would have fun with him and send him away seething with frustration.

“On the bed,” she said as she threw her nightdress on the floor, “Kneel before me!”

‘Worship me’ she thought. “No knees inside mine,” she said as he lumbered around awkwardly, “And lean forward and don’t crush me!”

Carson’s manhood reared to its maximum, veins rippling and bulging along its length as he leaned forward and it touched the soft skin of her belly.

“Do you like that?” May laughed.

“Madam?” Carson replied.

“Your hard cock on my soft skin, do you like?” she asked as she enjoyed feeling his excitement.

“If it pleases you Madam then I am content,” he replied.

She had a wicked thought, she wold push him to the brink and then push him away so she grabbed his manhood, “Down the bed,” she ordered and as he moved his knees she pulled the head of his cock up so it brushed her pussy lips.

“There,” she teased, as she felt his foreskin against her, arousing her, “Now isn’t that nice?”

May held him there a moment longer than she should as she enjoyed the thrill of his warmth against her and the sudden overwhelming feeling of power.

“If it pleases you Madam,” he agreed through gritted teeth as he tried to disguise his excitement..

“Doesn’t it please you then Carson?” she asked, “Any real man would just push forward a tiny bit and take me.”

“Yes Madam.” Carson replied.

“Are you a man Carson?” she joked, tormenting him, “Just a little push, I’m waiting.”

“Madam,” he replied as the exquisite sensation of her soft cunt lips against the tip of his rampant penis raced uncontrollably through his body.

“Don’t you want to push it inside me?” May asked oblivious to the fact that the feel of his penis was making her rather wet in her turn.

Beads of pre cum mixed with Mays secretions as Carson’s cock nuzzled May’s cunt lips, May judged it was time to put Carson in his place, but first pne more taunt before she threw him off the bed and threw him from the room in his underwear.

“Don’t you want to push it inside me, don’t you want to fuck me?” she asked, “Don’t you like girls?

“Yes,” he said, and suddenly uncontrollably powerful muscles were driving his cock into her yielding pussy.

“God no, stop, oh hell please I was joking,” May babbled as he thrust a second and third time, “You don’t have a rubber, oh christ, oh christ, oh bloody hell!”

“I’m sorry Madam but,” Carson advised, “I am afraid the deed is already done.”

“Stop!” she hissed, “For heavens sake stop.”

“I cannot Madam,” Carson insisted, “At least I will not, for the pleasure is exquisite I could no more cease than fly to the moon.”

“Oh hell,” May struggled but Carson had her pinned firmly to the bed now, “Stop!”

Carson ignored her. If anything her struggles aroused him even more, as conversely they aroused her. She was not used to strong men, willing boys were her usual choice of lover but Carson had completely taken control of the situation, and she found it unexpectedly exciting.

May lay back accepting her fate, “You are so strong,” she gasped, “I never thought of you as a man before but.”

“No Madam, one seldom considers servants to be human beings,” Carson agreed, “Will this perhaps serve as a reminder,” he said as he thrust powerfully, “Or this!”

“Oh Carson,” May exclaimed, “You naughty man, what has got into you, you’re quite the stallion, stop.”

“I can see little point in stopping Madam, the deed is essentially done, just what is for me the most pleasurable part remains,” Carson declared.

“Then ride me you bastard!” she snapped, “Be my Stallion, my Bull, ride me!”

“Madam?” he queried.

“I said ride me, please me, excite me, do something!” she said, “Do it damn you,do it!”

They felt the cum rising, both knew he should pull out , neither wanted it and their arms held each other tightly as the pent up emotions burst with his fluids to flood her parts.

She flopped back onto the pillow, “Thank you Carson, that will be all.” she said quietly and thoughtfully. “Use the Dressing room,” she added and she rolled on her side and dozed.

Carson dressed as quickly as he could and slipped quietly through the bedroom so as not to wake Lady May, “Thank you Carson, that will be all for now,” she giggled and she rolled over again feeling pleasantly satisfied, and only the slightest bit guilty.

Carson by contrast went straight to his room to pack, he would not leave immediately but just after midnight, a ten minute walk to the station would allow him to catch the Midnight train to Wales, the 12.45 newspapers to Pontypool Road via Swindon and Gloucester to be precise.

But May had other ideas, she rang the bell, “Carson,” she bellowed, “Carson!”

He rushed to her door and taking a big breath he answered “Ah, yes Madam,” as he swung the door open.

“Come in, we need to clear the air,” she announced, “Come in, sit down.”

“Madam.” he replied.

“For my part, I must apologise,” she said awkwardly, “I really thought, that, you know, you liked boys, not girls, I wanted to torment you, it was unforgivable.”

“No, the offence was mine Madam,” Carson insisted, “You shall have my resignation.”

“I think not Carson, you’re a damned good butler I’m damned if I’m losing you over a silly misunderstanding,” she said, “But what got into you.”

“The truth Madam?” he asked.

“Well I suppose so,” she said, “Was it me, or was I, or was it?”

“I try to keep control Madam, but I am weak, I am afraid,” he explained.

“So you abstain and the pressure builds and…” she queried.

“Lord no,” Carson smiled, “With my restraint, and a prophylactic, well Madam, discretion.”

“Discretion?” she asked.

“I, ah, to be frank Madam I masturbate while I listen to you and your lovers,” he admitted, “And every time I wanted to be the one pleasuring you!”

“You filthy sod!” she said, “Oh I feel quite dirty!”

“You asked for the truth,” he replied.

“Good lord,” she sighed, “So, what now?”

“That is your decision Madam.” he conceded.

“Carson, can you assure me that nothing similar will ever happen again?” she asked.

“Alas no,” Carson admitted, “A single signal and I should be upon you now Madam.”

“That’s what I thought,” she said, “Good, well then no more talk of resignations, oh and if anyone calls I have a migraine, that will be all.”

Carson paused. “Madam, perhaps you should know the truth, it will come out, conscription and registration, my name is not Carson, it’s Wilberforce, John Harold Wilberforce, I added the Carson do you see.”

“And that should mean something?” she said.

“I was in the Dragoons, until nineteen thirty seven,” he added.

“Not a clue!” she admitted.

“I was sacked Madam, caught in flagrante with the Colonel’s wife,” he explained, “Ostracised by my friends, no money, no prospects so took up as a butler with Mr Hennesy, an American, it was easy enough, said I was officers Batman, no questions asked.”

“And Hennesy gave you the reference when he went back to the States?” she asked.

“Indeed Madam,” he agreed.

“So, the Colonel’s wife?” she asked.

“Colonel’s wife Madam,” Carson explained, “She was fifty, grey haired, and then there was her eldest daughter, and the younger a few times, do you see Madam, do you understand?”

“You screw anything in a skirt?” she queried.

“I used to Madam, anything this side of a Scottish Regiment Madam!” he admitted.

“So I am not safe in my own house?” she asked.

“Not if you torment me Madam, just so we understand each other Madam,” he agreed.

“Absolutely Carson,” Lady May agreed, “Long skirts and bustles for me from now on Carson, now about your business!”

Carson went back to his duties, he just did not know ow what to do, fearing the policeman’s knock or the War office looking to recall him but then the dinner bell rang in his pantry and he went to call Lady May to diner.

He knocked the door, “Ah hem, Dinner time Madam.”

“Coming,” she said as she opened the door with a big smile. He stared, her outfit was years out of date, a skimpy flappers skirt from the nineteen twenties, “Like it?” she asked as she slipped past him, “I’m not wearing any knickers!”

“Madam!” he snorted.

“Down Tiger, be patient!” she laughed, “I’m hungry!”

“Madam, you’re making me uncomfortable!” he explained.

“Oh very well,” she sighed, “Have your wicked way but hurry up!” and she went back to her bed.

“Madam,” he replied, and seeing she was serious, he agreed, “Of course Madam.”

It was done in moments, four hands wrestled with his fly buttons and then with his trousers in disarray she grasped his swelling manhood, caressed it gently and drew him to her as she sat on the edge of the bed, legs spread wide so Carson could gently slide his eager rampant manhood back inside May’s warm wet vagina where she now felt he belonged.

She gasped at his intrusion, relaxed to allow him to enter her fully and luxuriated in the feel of his soft yet hard penis deep inside her as he began to hump against her.

“Do you like that?” she enquired.

“Immensely Madam,” Carson admitted, “Immensely.”

“You’re neglecting my boobies,” May announced, “Pull my dress up, do something!” she demanded so he slipped a hand under her dress to cup her left breast.

“Better,” she husked, he tweaked her nipple, “Better still!” she agreed, but passions were rising, her hands were on his buttocks pulling him ever deeper inside her

He held her close, cheek to cheek, her hair tickled against him as he humped her, “Twice,” she said, “This is very promising Carson but hurry or we’ll be late for dinner.”

He needed no prompting and his climax was immediate and as intense as before, May cried out, her moans un stifled as she revelled in the force of his ejaculation and then quite suddenly it was done, she slid off him, wiped herself briefly and then called, “Come along, chop, chop, I’m famished!” as she left the room.

Carson quickly dressed and followed May downstairs, he waited patiently as she delicately picked at her dinner, “Do you think it will rain later, Carson?” she asked.

“I believe it may well be a trifle damp Madam,” he replied teasing her.

“Indeed, but do you think it will rain?” she asked.

“More than likely Madam,” he agreed.

Betsy the maid bustled around in her smart black uniform, shuttling from the kitchen where Mrs Matthews the cook toiled over her hot stove, to the small private dining room, while Carson had little to do as he stood ready to dispense any wine which Lady May might require.

May had things on her mind, of the twenty or more lovers she had taken recently Carson was head and shoulders above the rest, but then he had not used a prophylactic, and the flood of ejaculate was intoxicating, and she was fairly sure he was not seeing other women.

She wondered who this “Wilberforce” actually was and determined to find out.

May finished her dinner and went through to the drawing room where an extension telephone had been, she contacted the exchange and was surprised that Susan was still there, “Till Ten Miss for the Military, which number do you require,” she had replied.

May contacted Julie Mason and then “Holly” Thornbury asking about ‘Wilberforce.’

“Oh my god ‘Wibbly Wilberforce,’ Holly exclaimed, “He was screwing the Colonel’s wife and both daughters at the same time!”

“What at once, a threesome?” May asked and Holly exploded with laughter.

“God no, no, one at a time,” Holly confirmed, “He would have got away with it but he fell off his horse and all three turned up at his bedside!”

“Oh,” said May.

Holly continued, “And about a dozen more, why do you ask?”

“I heard rumours,” May lied.

“Working as Gigolo in Monte Carlo last I heard,” Holly guessed, “Fifty pounds a go!”

“Fifty pounds!” May exploded.

“Just a rumour,” Holly admitted, “Why what do you know?”

“Nothing,” May lied.

“Some sort of serial sex maniac the MO said apparently,” Holly added, “Apparently no sooner had he, you know, than he was at it again with another girl, anyway he had to resign his commission, and he just disappeared.”

May thanked her friend for the information and set the telephone back in its cradle.
She stared thoughtfully at the window as the dusk fell, she should have drawn the curtains but there was no light or fire so she pondered on what to do.

It was exciting, like trying to master a thoroughbred she decided, and then Betsy walked in, the light through the door sending a brilliant shaft of light out across the front lawn.

“You stupid girl!” May exclaimed, “An enemy bomber could see that from twenty miles away you fool!”

“Beg pardon Madam but can I go home tonight as the lorry’s going my way,” she asked nicely.

Betsy lived in the Village three miles away and usually only went home on Sundays to see her parents and eleven brothers and sisters.

“And how exactly will you get back?” May asked.
“Walk Madam,” Betsy suggested.
“And what if you get attacked or ravished?” May asked, “Where shall I find another servant now there’s a war on?”

“So I can’t then?” she asked.

“No!” May insisted.

Betsy muttered.

“I heard that,” May exclaimed, “So who were you going to meet?”

“Me dad!” Betsy insisted.

“Really?” May enquired, “Not some lusty young chap?”

Betsy scowled.

“Do you want to get laid, is that it, little girl growing up, little itches you need to scratch, like a she cat on heat!” May snapped.

“It’s all bloody right for you!” Betsy snapped, “Them lahdi dah officers with them tongues down your throat you don’t go short.”

May suddenly had an outrageous idea, “And neither shall you Betsy,” she said and she called, “Carson, and mind the light!”

“Madam?” Carson said as he slipped into the room.

“Do the blackout would you?” she asked.

“Yes Madam,” he agreed.

“Betsy is pining for her boyfriend, Carson,” May explained.

“Indeed Madam,” Carson enquired.

“We can’t have that can we Carson,” May suggested.

“Madam?” Carson replied.

“There’s a Johnny in my room, Carson,” May suggested.

“Indeed Madam,” Carson replied.

“Oh don’t be so dim!” May sighed, “Must I draw a picture?”

To be continued.

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