The Master And the Maid

The Master reigned-in his horse to a gentle trot as he approached the house. He brought the mare to a halt outside its stable and handed the reigns to the stable boy, who touched the peak of his flat cap in deference. He walked across the cobbled yard to the entrance to the back stairs.

Reaching the top he was greeted by the maid. She curtseyed and followed him to his room.

She waited until he had thrown his jacket onto the bed and collapsed into his chair and then began to remove his clothing. She began with his soft leather riding boots. The smell of the leather made the hair on the back of her neck rise and seem to crackle.

Socks and breeches next. She looked up at her Master, his eyes were closed, apparently exhausted from his long ride. Her eyes dropped to his groin, woollen long johns covering his cock as it lay on his left thigh. Her hand slid up his leg and came to rest gently on his groin. The Master’s hand grabbed her exploring fingers.

“Did I tell you to touch me?” He demanded.

“No, Sir.” She whimpered, eyes downcast.

He chuckled. “Continue Lizzie, I was rather looking forward to your attentions.”
Relieved Lizzie slowly massaged her Master’s cock through the wool until it began to rise away from his leg. She licked her lips and looked imploringly into his eyes.

“A bath first.” He instructed.

The Master stood, allowing Lizzie to pull down his undergarments. Knelt in front of him his thick, veined cock, almost erect, danced in front of her face emitting a deep musky aroma.

They took the few short steps to the bathtub, already filled and steaming in the centre of the room. The master stepped in and settled into the water. Lizzie reached for the soap and, beginning with his head and neck started to wash her Master. He lay back, letting her cleanse his body of the sweat and grime of the ride. She carefully washed every centimetre of his skin but avoided his groin until last.

Her hands finally dipped under the surface and took hold of his hard shaft. His hips rose, pushing his cock and balls above the water, allowing her to apply soap and gently stroke it clean with both hands. From tip to balls she work his prick, cupping his testicles and washing his perineum.

The Master’s eyes were closed, his body undulating as Lizzie played with his cock. The water sloshed from side to side in the bath, splashing her uniform.

“Enough.” Said The Master, opening his eyes. “Dry me.”

He stood and stepped out of the bath. Lizzie gently patted him dry with a soft cotton towel. She lifted the moisture from his body with care and thoroughness, ensuring that she brushed against his erect cock every so often, knowing how sensitive it must be. When she had completed her task she walked to the four poster bed.

The Master watched her lift up her short skirt, revealing the stockings and suspenders he insisted she always wore. Her thumbs hooked inside the waistband of her silk knickers and pulled them over her hips. She let them drop to the floor and kicked them to one side. Ready for him now, she leant forward, crawled onto the mattress and waited.

The Master pushed her skirt up to reveal a round backside. He slipped his fingers between her labia and revelled in the warm, wet folds of her lips. He found her clit and toyed with it, eliciting whimpering moans. His index and middle finger slipped inside her, feeling her heat, invading her. He withdrew them and knelt on the bed behind her.

She felt him push against her opening then slide inside her cunt, centimetre after beautiful centimetre of hard, broad cock. He filled her and did not stop until his balls rested against her skin. Strong hands gripped her wait. He started to fuck her, without care for her pleasure, he was after all The Master, this was for his gratification.

But His pleasure was her pleasure, not simply knowing that he was excited by the increasingly powerful assault on her pussy he was administering, but because she felt both out of control, but also under His control, in His care. Lizzie felt her wetness rising, her slit first slick then running with excitement until his thrusts were accompanied by sloshing, splashing sounds, her wetness running down both their thighs.

The smell of her was what tipped the Master over the edge. She felt his speed changed, the pulsating of his cock, or did she just imagine that, whatever it was she knew he was filling her with hot, white cum. He grunted and growled from deep in his throat and with a final buck of his hips sent her face first onto the bed, then collapsed beside her.