Chapter Two
“You the new girl then?” the dark haired girl inquired, breaking abruptly into the reminiscences as she beckoned her in and Charity nodded her head, making the fiery mop of curls bounce and flicker as she stepped inside her new home. After a brief welcome and explanation of her duties from the housekeeper followed by the delight of a proper meal and a sit down, Charity was taken up to her quarters by Rose, the dark haired girl with whom she was sharing a room and a bed and she placed her meagre bundle on the floor before she changed into a dark skirt and a white blouse provided by the housekeeper along with the ubiquitous mob cap and apron and went back downstairs to begin her duties.
A fortnight went by very smoothly and even though the hours were long and the work arduous, it was a pure delight after the harsh and punishing regime of the workhouse. Charity even found that her body was filling out a bit as she caught a glimpse of herself in the cheval mirror in her shared bedroom. For once she had found herself alone and she had taken the opportunity to regard her naked figure, running her slim fingers down from her shoulders and teasing them into the fiery thatch at her centre before stroking across her flat stomach and then back up to her jutting breasts which were tipped by pinkish buds. She had turned round to regard her smooth white buttocks and the long sweep of her thighs and calves before a creak on the floorboards outside had led her to hurriedly wrap herself back in her thin shift before she had got into bed and prayed to be rescued from her immodesty.
Her fortunes changed abruptly when Mr and Mrs Harrison’s son returned from university just before Christmas. She noticed him as he strode into the house, shedding mud on the polished floorboards in the hall and she had heaved a great sigh at the thought of working on them yet again even as she had looked up and found his dark grey eyes fixed on her. She felt an odd flutter in her belly as her fingers kept polishing the carved wooden pineapple on the end of the banisters and then the spell was broken as Mrs Harrison bustled out to embrace him. It was like the return of the Prodigal Son, she thought later, as a massive dinner was prepared and she had to peel vegetables until her fingers ached while she listened to the gossip that flittered around the other servants.
“Bundle of trouble that one,” mentioned the cook quietly, eliciting a nod of agreement from the butler.
“Very true and I wouldn’t mind betting that he has been sent down from university for some stupidity or other. Wine or women most likely!” sniffed Jenkins in return as he sneaked a pastry from the table while the cook smiled at him. Charity risked a quick glance and noticed how the pair of them were leaning in towards each other and she instantly knew that there was something going on between them. Making the beast with two backs, she thought, and her mouth turned up with amusement at the thought of the corpulent cook and the thin butler rolling around with each other.
“On with your work, girl!” snapped Mrs Dawson, the cook sharply and Charity bent her eyes down to her task and concentrated.
The hot water in the large ewer was extremely heavy and Charity had to concentrate to stop it slopping out as she headed up the imposing oak staircase and along the corridor early the next morning until she reached the bedroom door of the Harrison’s son, Matthew. She knocked and waited for a moment but there was no shout to come in so she eased the door open, assuming that he was still asleep even though it was approaching eight o’clock. Instead she found him standing by the side of the bed, nightshirt lifted and she gulped as she saw the thickness of his prick as his golden stream of urine poured forth into the chamber pot. He flicked an irritated look at her and calmly finished while she stood there flushing as red as a beetroot before he shook his shaft and allowed his nightshirt to drop down and cover himself.
“About time too, girl,” he grumbled as she recovered her wits and placed the ewer on the washstand in the corner. Charity turned to go but a sharp command rooted her to the spot as he walked towards her and pushed her back towards the water.
“You don’t escape that easily, girl. If it is time for a wash then I expect someone to do it for me…and as you are the nearest.”
With that he lifted his garment off over his head and she was confronted with the sight of his broad chest and flat stomach and then a dark nest of curls that shrouded the base of his penis. Charity tried to step away but he crowded her towards the corner until he had her trapped and then he moved in another step so that she had no alternative but to smell the raw odour of his masculinity and then feel the heat of his bed-warm skin against her face.
He handed her a flannel and she twisted round slightly to dip it into the hot water then began to sponge him down lightly, blushing furiously as her fingers encountered the little rubbery buds of his nipples. He passed her a sliver of soap next and she used it lightly on his chest, lathering up a whitish foam before she washed it away with more water. Her heart beat faster as she began on his stomach and she suddenly found something hard poking against her breasts and realised that it was the knob of his cock, now engorged and aroused, and she shivered as his hands grasped her wrists and she was made to lather the length and then sponge it down while it throbbed and pulsed. She soaped the taut sac of his balls and then down his thighs before she sluiced him in the cooling water and he stepped back with a smirk, cock bobbing proudly in front of her eyes, mesmerising her like a swaying snake.
“Time to clean me with your tongue now, girl,” he whispered sharply and her emerald eyes opened wider with fear and he laughed scornfully at her as his hands pressed down on her head. “Or would you prefer to go back to the workhouse you came from? A single word from me to my adoring mother and that is where you will be heading, girl!”
The threat was undeniable and her heart froze at the prospect and so, with a little tear forming in the corner of her eye, she allowed herself to be bent over until the rubicund tip of his cock poked against her full lips. She felt the silky glans rub along her mouth and smelt the unmistakable maleness of his flesh. Charity moaned in shame as she parted her lips at his insistent urging and then his cock slipped into her warmth. Her tongue wrapped round his smoothness, coating it with sweet saliva that sent him into ecstasy at the wet touch as he slid in and out with her soft lips rubbing against his long shaft. Minutes passed and she found herself lost in the touch and taste and smell of him until she felt him swell even more inside her mouth and then came the powerful jets of his thick cream pumping into her, filling her and then overflowing down her chin as she struggled to cope with the volume of his sperm.
His cock slipped out as it wilted and a teary dribble of semen dripped down onto her cheek as he looked down into her jade-green eyes dispassionately then wiped himself clean on her face. Charity gave a little sob as she was so degraded then stayed kneeling, unable to trust her legs to hold her, as he moved away. Eventually she managed to rise to her feet and, trying to hold back the tears of shame, she made her way towards the door and was about to leave when he spoke.
“Return tonight, girl, at ten o’clock and don’t be late!”
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