“What was that, girl?” he says, taking a bunch of my hair in his hand and tugging it back, making me gasp. I start to grind against his cock desperately, but he gives me another tug and pushes his cock up farther, immobilizing me. I bite my lip, feeling my body so tense, so desperate, my toes clenching as my whole body cries out for him.
“Master,” I gasp, “please, Master!”
He regards me coldly, his eyes looking me up and down, his cock unmoving, solid. My heart pounds out of fear, wondering what he’ll do to me for missing a step. Is this what they meant by his being a harsh man to work for? Hard bosses I can deal with, but this kind of tension…?
Finally, he nods his chin to the rug. “On your knees,” he orders, and I feel his hands going to my hips and lifting me up.
My body does the rest almost against my own will. I turn onto my hands and knees, and I arch my back down, pushing my ass up to him like an offering, looking over my shoulder at him and biting my lip at the sight of his looming, massive cock gleaming in the firelight.
“Maybe there’s potential in you yet, Maisie,” he says, and I feel a sharp slap on my ass that makes me cry out before he enters me fiercely.
His cock feels so different at this angle, yet just as fulfilling, if not more. Do I like this more? I can’t decide, it’s like being asked to choose between gold and silver settings for a diamond necklace! I justs know that I need him, and I need him bad. My head is swimming with lust, and I won’t be myself until he gives it to me.
But now his bucking is unrelenting, rewarding me for my obedience with fierce,
hard motions, his ramming so perfectly suited to my pussy that it’s less than a minute before my head is sinking to the floor as my arms go weak, feeling my long-awaited orgasm coming closer, so much closer.
“Not so fast, girl,” he hisses, and I feel him grab my hair, pulling me back and arching my back so much that his cock bucks into a new part of me, and I’m blown away.
I scream. An honest-to-goodness scream of passion, all the tension of years of being pent-up in that podunk little town, all thanks to this unbelievable man using me for his dark purposes.
My joy, my utter bliss has an effect on him too, and I feel his balls stop swinging as they tighten until his seed bursts into me, a deep groan escaping his chest.
I thought he had spent himself earlier. I didn’t realize a man could have so much in him, even if he was pent up for weeks. Not Lord Alastair. His orgasm was just as voluminous, seed gushing from his throbbing cock so furiously, so blissfully hot and virile, and it doesn’t stop coming. Shot after shot of it empties into my pussy, planting his seed in me, and I’ve never felt so alive, so fertile, so ready to accept everything. All of it.
When I feel the last shot about to empty out, he pulls out, massaging his cock and gasping as the last spurt of it shoots out across my back and into my hair. It’s like a whip across my back, but sweet and hot rather than painful. A mark.
I collapse, his seed trailing out of my pussy as I revel in the feeling of him all over me. I listen to his heavy, satisfied breathing, and I close my eyes, ready to fall asleep right there. I want nothing more than for him to scoop me up into his arms and put me to bed with him, just like this.
But then I hear him rising to his feet, closing his pants, and I turn over just enough to see him regarding me coolly. “Go,” he says simply, and I blink in confusion.
“Did I-” start, thinking maybe he’s angry at me for not responding to him quickly enough, but he offers me a smile, shaking his head as though reading my mind.
“You’ve performed excellently, Maisie,” he says simply, folding his hands behind his back. “And now, you will return to your quarters. Do not wash,” he says, narrowing his eyes at the mark of his seed on my back as I rise to my feet uneasily. “You will sleep with that on you.”
I swallow hard. I should be infuriated by this absurd man, and in some way, I am, but that part of me is overwhelmed by my lust. Something primal in me is warmed by the feeling of his seed in me, and I know I need more.
So I cross my feet and bend my knees in an awkward curtsy, and he smiles bemusedly before turning to the fireplace, just as distant as the last time he left me. Hastily, I gather my shoes and scurry out the room, my head swimming.
This is just the first day.
5
It’s been a month since I got hired at Lord Alastair’s estate, and god almighty, has it awoken something new in me!
I’ve learned more than I ever thought I would about housekeeping work in my time here so far, short as it’s seemed, but I realized very quickly that actual domestic work was definitely the secondary reason I was hired, if that.
I’m here for Lord Alastair’s needs. His urges that that masculine, virile body has to act upon. And every second of it has been bliss. The other employees were all right in that Lord Alastair is a demanding employer, but I’ve grown into my role like a natural. I’ve started to learn what he really likes, and the meanings behind his commands.
Of course, I owe it partly to him that I’ve learned so quickly. The first day was only average—he’s fucked me four times in one day on occasion, and never less than once.
He’s such a mysterious man! Even when he holds charity events, he presides over the little dinners from the shadows, running things and planning with other important figures like a phantom. Everyone who talks about him speaks of him with reverence. But nobody knows what the two of us have, I don’t think, but he makes no show of hiding my body. For public events, he has me dress in my usual maid’s outfit, which draws more than a few eyes. None more than his.
He’s swept me away into the shadows on more than one occasion while entertaining guests to finger me, eat me out, even come inside me between acts of a play he hosted last weekend.
And I haven’t failed to notice that he’s learning about me, too.
After he dismissed me from his room the first night, I assumed this was going to be the usual employee-employer relationship. And for a few days, it was, but he kept prying me about my life, asking what kind of person I was between sessions of emptying himself into me. As our sex got more familiar, he seemed to look at me differently.