"Ah! There you are, pet........I wondered where my search for you would end," the Count called out, wandering into the keep, as he finally found you in the cobbled yard.
You shivered at the sound of his voice, in anticipation of his command perhaps? Or was it merely in reaction to the frosty cold of that afternoon in late December. "Once more unto the breech, dear creature?"
"No, Master, once more unto the breeches, really," you turned and blushed. You were giggling helplessly at the fact that your hand was still loitering in the garments of one of the recently arrived messengers from the outlying properties in the eastern forests.
"Surveying the ramparts again are we?"
"Oh m...m..M'lord," you stuttered, so embarrassed at being caught red handed, your face turning a matching scarlet.
"Without permission?"
You could not deny it and so just knelt there contritely in silence, staring down at the cobblestones. When you looked up again, you observed that your Master had moved away from you to the other side of the courtyard. He and his lady were walking their mounts, preparing to go out, with a small escort, to survey the estates.
"N-no Milord," you called out nervously, seeking to attract his attention again. He approached, horse in tow and let his hand reach down to cup, stroke and, finally, pull your face sharply up to look contritely at him.
"No.....indeed," he eventually responded, letting each skeptical syllable fall with heavy deliberation on your unhappy submissive form.
"I was only p-playing Master," you sought to excuse yourself.
"Quite....pocket billiards, was it?" he questioned you laconically. You dropped your head feeling completely humiliated at your shameless misbehaviour.
"I had originally intended you to ride with us, pet. But, you seem to have other games in mind at present?"
"No, Master, please may I come with you?"
"It seems that you can come perfectly well here, with this young messenger here, can you not?"
"Master, please."
"No pet, I am not best pleased. Your owner will be marking you down for a sound whipping on his return. You understand?"
You nodded, but said nothing, relieved and yet at the same time sorry that he did not have the time to take you over his lap that very instant. The thought of such abasement in front of the Lady of the Chateau, the escort and the delicious messenger, who had rather taken your fancy made you squeeze your thighs together, rubbing the thin veil of silk that nestled against your flesh.
"You, young man. I thought I asked you to bring me information about storm damage by the waterfall and not to storm the chateau pet."
The messenger, the object of your affection, swayed from side to side nervously.
"And you pet. I have no time for your nonsense now, but I assure you that your nether estates will be severely managed in due course. I wonder if this young man would care to observe how the negligence of submissives is treated here......," he paused and then turned to bark in the messenger's face: "Well, boy?"
"I would b-be d-delighted Milord, to join you for your pet's punishment."
"No-no-NO. You stupid youth. The news from the East not your filthy sexual fantasies."
"Forgive me, Milord," the chastened messenger began, bowing his head and reciting the words he had learned by rote: " The most immediate problem seems to be a blocked stream that flows into the Marel just beyond the slaves lake. A number of tenant farmers are gathered below the waterfall Milord......."
You lowered your eyes demurely as the messenger droned on, but you listened and learnt that they were to meet your Master below the waterfall and help him clear the blockage (well you pouted to yourself you had tried with all cleverness to release that messenger's blockage).You heard that the waterfall did not drain into other channels causing local flooding (and you frowned to think of the local flooding that would have ensued had you but had a few moments more alone with the errant messenger).
You sighed under you breath and then, shrugged at the recollection that your owner was cross with you and was denying you his company. What did it matter anyhow, you though. Had you been given the option now you would certainly have declined to join this cold trip, knowing that such professional surveys could be very tedious indeed. You would have been intending to make your excuses and to beg permission to take a horse and carriage into Ilmarel to meet some of the chateau and dacha pets from the outlying counties, but in view of your ball play, discretion seemed to be the watchword.
"Ah well," you sighed to yourself. "There you are....."
".......There you go and here I am....."you added with a shrug, once the Master was well out of sight.
The air was chil. A frost hung in the air like a bound submissive waiting for edgeplay. You shivered at that thought and decided that, rather than travel into town, you would content yourself with gazing down on the harbour from the courtyard, looking at the partly frozen bay. You watched a clipper breaking the ice at the edge of the ice bound port and paused in the peace and quiet. Something was missing.
You suddenly realised that the fountain and the well that usually trickled in the courtyard were iced over. Now, here was an opportunity to get back into your Master's good books. You might even turn the threatened harsh whipping into a gentle and warming spanking, perhaps.
You turned to the stone well and clapped your hands. You needed to summon your maid servant to help you break the icicles off the fountain, so that the water could flow again. Several minutes passed before the swarthy dark haired woman finally trotted up. You sighed, silently reprimanding her. You always tried to emulate the aristocratic airs of your Master, even in his absence. Imitation next to flattery. Flattery next to subservience.
"Bela D'," you clicked your tongue. "You have arrived at last."
"Milady," she scowled at you. "You summoned me?"
"I did, indeed. Now, enough of your surliness, Bela," you retorted impatiently. You were in charge now and you wanted the well cleared, so the refreshing water would flow again. You knew you could soothe your Master's ill humour with your head on or preferably in his lap as he back and listened to its relaxing sound.
"Help me, Bela," you ordered determinedly. You did not move to start the work though , for your thoughts of great deeds were distracted by your reflection in the ice. Your maid tutted at your vanity as she shivered in the chill air next to you. As a servant her coarse clothing was more protective than your fine silks. There again, you ignored the fact that she lacked the fine furs that you were permitted to wrap around you. You, however, were wrapped up in your own thoughts.
You paused for a long while before attempting to break the ice. There was a little survey of your own to do in the well of the fountain. An observation that would leave you, by and large, pleased by your reflected beauty. Fair skin with, perhaps, a few too many freckles; a pair of bright green eyes; a very attractive face. You shook a thick head of hair back over your shoulders, watching it flow behind your reflection in the fountain.
It was a well practiced gesture, that excited many a young stable boy and messenger. Some of the bolder stable boys had asked you if your "other" hair was a perfect matched, risking their Master's wrath if you were to report them. They trusted you, as a well trained submissive, to be discrete and realised that you were amused by their antics. If the boy was particularly gentle, you playfully invited him to feel for himself that it was. You, sometimes, let hands slip down to your smooth, shaven mound on occasions. You always laughed gently at their rude peasant gasps of surprise and your gentle teasing won you many friends in the chateau. Yet, you would never allow them to trespass too far over what was, after all, the Master's property.
"Should you be messing with your Master's property, Milady," the serving woman croaked, her voice made hoarse by the cold. She interrupted and confused your thoughts, leaving you uncertain for a moment as to what she and you were referring to as property.
"After all Milady, he has promised to survey you properly later, has he not," she cackled.
"Don't be insolent, Bela D, you poisonous creature," and you slapped her face, causing a sharp retort in the crisp air. "Fetch a man to deal with this. Now."
"Very well, Milady," she muttered holding her reddening cheek and she walked slowly away, leaving you to look back into the ice. This time you looked away from your face, to your well proportioned breasts, your slender waist and your trim form. Idly, you recollected how the tutors and savants that your Master employed to help you develop your faculties were most complimentary about your physique.
You knew from the pets' gossip by the harbour pump in town though, that such itinerant scholars only complimented the more mature looking pets, to try to get under their skirts. Even so, your own special tutor was sweet, you often mused. You wondered what his cock looked like. A fat little pork sausage, nestling in his breeches. If you played your cards right he might even let you see it.
You stepped away from the fountain, thinking of your Mistress and Master's performance the previous night. You reached down to touch the hem of your skirt but did not slide your fingers beneath to test the moisture. You saw the woman returning with two men in tow, including, irony of ironies your tutor, Master T.
"Good Master T," you crooned.
"I thought Milady was going out with the Master today?"
"Evidently not, good Sir," you responded, hearing his irritation.
"No, good Master T, Milady was caught where her hands should not have been," Bela interrupted you, indiscreet and point scoring as ever.
"Did you not receive the instruction to mark Milady down."
"You are quite impossible, Bela. Get out of my sight," you huffed. "No, go and stand by the well and help that stable boy......I don't care if you freeze your nipples off.....just do it!"
She skulked off into the distance and you turned again towards your tutor.
"Now, good Master T," you continued in honeyed tones, sliding your arm into his and drawing him inside with you to warm up. "You do not want to be shivering in the cold watching menial manual work, do you? Let us leave the servants to prod and poke and we will hunt for some educational reading matter for my entertainment, shall we not?"
"Very well, Milady," he smiled, but you detected a further irritation behind his compliance. You left the servants by the fountain with Bela to assist their poles and assorted tools, breaking the ice and freeing the fountain. He selected a book from the shelves of the library to entertain and inform you in your owner's absence. Then you sat down in the conservatory, that had been built onto the library recently, just as they finished work on the fountain.
"Master T?"
"Yes, Milady?"
"You seem somewhat irritable?"
"Not at all Milady," he lied.
"Well," you responded, realising that he would not be his usual mine of information today. "Thank you, for your attendance. You may go to your duties."
"Here Bela," you shouted out, deciding to recall your maid. "Come braid my hair. Leave the doors open so I can listen to the water trickling from the fountain. Why are you all scowling?"
"Not at all, Milady, you imagine it" Master T intoned, but his tone betrayed his sugary words. You shrugged and settled back into your chair, letting your mind drift listening to the fountain as your woman prepared your coiffure.
You imagined your Master and his lady by the forest stream, messing about in the snow. Their palfreys would be tethered to dark woodland oaks as they chased one another through the light snowfall. You tried to ignore thoughts of the splashing fun that would ensue. Just imagine them breaking the ice on a forest stream, cuddling one another and watching the water tumble down a natural waterfall. They would be so proper, you were sure. Yet, wicked ideas continually trailed through your mind, like woodland vines.
It was no good, for as you wriggled in your chair, you began to moisten. You could easily visualise the Mistress sliding sensually against your Master's naked, wet body under the cool, cascading water of a waterfall in the still forest. You sighed and nestled deeper into the shade of a large thick leaved aspen plant, before drifting off to sleep in the shade......
......You awoke to a soft background murmuring, stretching like a panther, and then slowly made to stand up. You turned to enter the chateau proper, but then when you saw your tutor inside, apparently in conversation with your serving maid. The stable boy was standing next to them and their backs were turned from you. They obviously thought that you were fast asleep and had not seen you wake or rise to slip into your shadowy observation of their misdeeds.
The tutor stood in the library wearing a thin silk smoking gown that you knew belonged to your Master. He was also sporting a prominent erection. Your maid was wearing the Mistress's favourite robe but was naked underneath, and it showed. Only the stable boy was in his own clothing. Well, actually more out of them than in, having been denuded of all but a pair of rather smoky gray undershorts.
You watched through the large glass doors, your eyes wide, blinking at the sight of your personal servant lying on her back on the sofa, waiting to enjoy your personal tutor's lascivious attentions. Their actions were an outrage, but, inevitably, there were features of note and interest to your voyeuristic tendencies.
The gown had slid up round the Bela's waist, leaving her practically naked, with her legs high in the air. The tutor was crouching between her thighs, rolling his face around the open crevice of her sex. He pulled at her torso, so that it extended over the edge of the cushions. The maid was shaking and rocking her hips, grinding into the tutor's face, obviously enjoying his tongue.
So this was why they were so surly earlier. They had planned a little menage a trois in the servants quarters and now because of your instructions they were compelled to enjoy themselves in the Master's library. You wondered what to do next, even as you watched. You were distracted by the sounds as your tutor regaled your girl and brought her to a gasping climax. This rendered you very wet indeed, but you realised that if this was making you wet, what would a spurt of male come do to the precious fabrics that covered the library furniture.
You wanted to finger yourself, but you had a duty of responsibility to your Master too. You looked again through the window and saw the stable boy's jutting organ being sucked with practiced expertise. It sent a sensual thrill through you, one you exacerbated by squeezing your legs together in a vain effort to attain some relief of the sexual tension building within you. You picked up your book and ducked behind a wall, still watching the threesome with growing excitement.
You focused in on the woman's open slit, glistening with your tutor's saliva. You were only mildly surprised to find that the sight of a moist, pink gash excited you almost as much as the sight of a rock-hard prick. You reviewed the wetness and colour of the wench's aroused cunt. It excited you too much. Concealed by the wall and ignoring your duty, you slipped a hand beneath the waistband of your panties and began fingering yourself as you stared with lust at your excited tutor.
You peeped through the window to see your tutor's erection penetrate that receptive servant woman's gash. He was pumping in and out of her steadily, forcing the stable boy's cock so far into the wench's mouth, that she seemed to be gagging. You quickly realised that the froth was his precum bubbling around her lips.
You were eager to join - no....no - stop these delightful... No! Your conscience advised you. Your duty was to halt these appalling excitements now before the Master returned! You felt your feet moving. They seemed to be controlled by someone else, walking through a fog of mixed emotions. As you advanced, you prepared an "excuse" and a "lecture". If they objected or were embarrassed, you would tell them off firmly and send them to their chambers to await your Master's pleasure. If they didn't object then...well, you'd see what excuses they could come up with for excluding you from their fun. Two men and another woman. One for each of your orifices.
Mmmmmmmmm what fun!
You took a deep breath and opened the door, walking in and closing it carelessly behind you. As you walked you could feel the slipperiness of your own sex and the tight, stiffness of your taut nipples.
Just as you entered, the serving woman looked up. The tutor was ready to explode into her cunt. She shuddered and dislodged him. Servant and pet locked eyes for a moment, then you were drawn to the thick white cum of the concluded tutorial, spurting against her neck and naked breasts. She looked down, paused, then gulped down the tutor's spurting cock, letting it rub against the stable boy's member that was already snugly ensconced in her mouth, making them both moan loudly. Neither man had seen you yet. Their eyes were tightly shut as they groaned out their climaxes in the exquisite velvety bliss of the serving woman's convulsing throat.
"I see you have been conducting a little survey of your own, Master T, while your betters were otherwise engaged," you commented, quietly yet distinctly.
Your maid servant blushed and glanced down in confusion at her sperm covered breasts. A globule of come trickled inexorably down onto the sofa. You reached down to stop it but lost your balance falling headlong into the spermy morass, covering your silk gown and your cheek in the viscous fluid. The maid struggled under you and caused the hem of your gown to ride up beyond the top of your thighs, giving your tutor and the boy an eyeful of creamy buttock flesh. The tutor could not resist sliding his member under your panties and wiping it on the silky fabric, while the stable boy, peasant that he was could not restrain himself from spurting anew, to the shrieked objections of both you and Bela.
Your maid, feeling claustrophobic and crushed beneath both you and the overly excited tutor began to beat her hands against your chest, tugging at your gown. It ripped and your breasts peeked out inelegantly. Not wanting any more damage done to your outfit you held your servant still, but as you held her, she turned one more time, trapping your hands and her own. As a result, you and your maid could only watch helplessly as the mixed excretions of tutor and stable boy rolled down her body onto the sofa, staining the silk damask irretrievably.
Like a Greek chorus, awaiting the arrival of the furies, you both shuddered. She looked over at you, trying to control her trembling. You put your hand on her shoulder in an attempt to reassure yourself more than her. Then, suddenly, she stared past you, terrified, nodding towards the entrance to the room. The large mahogany doors opened slowly and inexorably, announcing the return of your Master, his lady and their entourage. You struggled free and knelt down at his feet, awaiting the ironic comment that would surely come, with burning ears.
"Ah there, you are, pet........once more unto those breeches I see?"
You remained silent. His gaze wandered over the mix of half clad bodies and then drifted across the room to the glass cabinet, where he kept sundry instruments for your painful instruction. His eyes slid back to your body as you knelt before him again contrite. The glistening green of his pupils held you steadily for a moment and he reached down to touch the thin silver chain that ran around your neck. His fingers slid under the fine links and grazed your neck. He let the digits slide down over your breast bone, until he held the little silver key that dangled between your breasts in his fists.
You sensed his grip tighten around the key, as he looked meaningfully over to the glass cabinet. Suddenly, he pulled sharply and you let out a high pitched shriek of surprise as the link tautened and then broke at the back of your neck. He let a moment pass by. Then, opened his palm, offering you the key in an authoritative gesture that set your heart racing.
You knew it was time for the long promised retribution and rose to walk unsteadily towards the cabinet. With trembling hands you unlocked the cabinet, fumbling with the ornate lock, in the realisation that Milord, Milady, their entourage as well as the guilty trio were all watching your every action. You reached inside the cabinet and grasped the long handled birch. The cane that bore the silver name plate etched with your name.
Your fingers struggled to grasp the thin wooden instrument and to lift it from the red velvet where it lay. It slipped from your trembling hands and caught your fingers with a stinging, glancing blow as you knocked it to the floor. You well knew that whippy feeling - almost too well perhaps. You had a presentiment that the gathered household would soon be witnessing the effectiveness with which it could be wielded. They would learn of the efficaciousness with which it could draw red weals from the pink silky skin of the obediently bared and bent over pet.
"I see I was right in supposing that you can come perfectly well here, was I not?"
"Yes, Master," you concurred, disregarding the unfairness of it all.
"Well, then come here and prepare yourself. Over the couch I think. That significant stain on the damask would be best paid for in kind."
"In kind, MiLord?" you heard Milady enquire, in her dulcet tones as you lifted your skirts and bent forward obediently, exposing your nether charms to the expectant assembly.
"Yes, in the kind of strokes that will most assuredly warm this insolent backside," and so saying he pressed his finger to the malleable surface your bottom cheek. You gasped as his digit ran along the curve of your upraised bottom and started when his hand descended with a sharp slap. You shifted your position obligingly, but he still seemed discontent, until his hand gripped your neck and pushed your face forward into the guilty marks on the still damp damask. The sweet aroma of drying semen, filled your nostrils. You knew then what was required of you. Your tongue flicked across your lips and, hesitantly, as first you licked at the fabric seeking to erase your faults, with a generous trickle of saliva.
All the same, you were certain that the kind of strokes that he was about to offer you would pain inordinately. When applied with the severity your faults that day deserved it would leave your brazen rear unsubtly crisscrossed. You could surely anticipate tear stained cheeks and the corridors echoing with your howls as, after each stroke, with indulgent repetition, he was able to murmur contentedly:
"Ah! There you are, pet......."
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