Chapter 2. Price and Cost of Order
London 1810. What has gone before.
I should tell you about myself first. I am Lady Anabell Baring, wife to the lord Charles Baring, Earl of Cromer. I am of the North Umbrian gentry, our family being renowned for producing bold soldiers and fertile wives, which the southern nobles have always muttered had to do with too many Vikings in the convent. We do tend to the tall, pale, and on the ladies side, very buxom side, and I have the red hair that crops up several times a generation.
My mother taught me that a woman had two duties, to provide, educate and train heirs for her husbands house, and to keep order in the servants of that house. Honestly, as a woman, this was supposed to be my goal and my joy. It was not much of a burden to provide heirs for my husband's house. I mean, I had been married at sixteen, and by eighteen I had given him two boys (Charles and Henry), which seemed to satisfy him. It was not much of a burden, although he was. My husband was my senior by about twenty years, and about a hundred pounds. My marital duties were a chore that I feared might kill my husband (Charles, as our first boy was named for him, as Henry was named for his father). His face grew red, his breathing like the blacksmith bellows, and I feared the veins in his neck would burst. Instead, his member which tore into me burst instead.
At my insistence, my husband hired new maids and kitchen staff. They were coloured from his holdings in the Caribbean and Orientals from his trading houses in Hong Kong. The new head maid was Kira, a lithe black Caribbean beauty with hair in tight cornrows so different from my own somewhat unruly red wavy tresses. She was everything I was not. Body lithe like a professional dancer and face like some arrogant ancient queen, where mine looked like it stepped off an ancient fertility goddess altar. Wide child bearing hips, high out thrust ass not requiring a bustle, and pale heavy breasts topped by nipples entirely too prominent for anything save the nursing they proved so very good at with my two boys. She stepped so wonderfully into the role of keeping the House in order. I did not enquire about how she disciplined the staff. She trained them in a matter of weeks to be the equal or better of any staff in London society, and due to my husband's business and political interests, I knew entirely too much about that society and its great houses.
Then I discovered how the house order was kept. Lord God Almighty forgive me, I stumbled now into my own quarters, unable to breathe, unable to think. My corset is too tight, I have too many clothes. My skin is suffocating, I can't breathe, my skin is covered in lightning, my nerves arcing like I touched one of Mr Van De Graff's lightning machines. I witnessed Kira discipline Ming.
My black housemaid stripped Ming bare, beat her with a hair brush, played her body like a violin, calling forth pleasure and pain. She trained Ming like an animal, broke her to being no more than a slave to her, and then, as a reward, she let Ming who she had spanked, fingered, and violated with a hairbrush larger than my Lord Husband's cock, kneel before her and pleasure her with her mouth!
I staggered to my bed and struggled to free myself to breathe. I have a very pale complexion, but my face as I passed my mirror was flushed bright red, both cheeks and the tops of my breasts stained the scarlet of shame and excitement, my bosoms heaving like a blacksmith's bellows as I struggled to get enough air to contain my excitement. I clawed at my skirts to raise them, to reach my bloomers. Thick decent cotton underclothes that covered me from waist to thigh were suddenly too much to take. I needed to touch where Kira had touched Ming with commanding and punishing fingers and hairbrush. I needed to touch what Ming had worshipped on Kira once she had been disciplined. I needed so badly to touch what should belong only to my husband, but cried out now for my own touch.
Kira followed me into the room after a few futile minutes, with round little Jenna. Where Kira was light brown and lithe like an Egyptian or Nubian Queen, Jenna was over opulent curves, round belly, bum and breast, coal black skin and thick lips always parted in a smile or babbling a mile a minute in scandalous conversation. Kira looked at me with the smug look of an indulgent parent or pet owner and gestured with her hands to Jenna.
"Miss Annabelle is overly constricted with her clothes. I fear she is suffering from hysteria brought on by witnessing how I keep order in the house. Please, loosen her clothes." Kira said, looking me in the eye and her commanding gaze stopping my attempts at protest.
Jenna undid my dress and corset, freeing my breasts which she impudently stroked with her small black hands, pinching my erect nipples with her thumb and forefinger as she pulled the corset and chemise away.
"Coo, look at these big beautiful duckies!" Jenna gushed, cupping my heavy breasts, kneading them before tweaking my nipples. "These duckies are so big and white we ought to call them swans. These kettle drums I bet you could beat quite the tune on if you weren't too old and feeble a geezer as your husband, right Lady Annabelle?"
I moaned and grabbed at Jenna's hands, but I was unsure if I was trying to stop her, or make her keep squeezing. Watching Kira discipline Ming had lit a fire in my sacred center that my husband never had. I was taken with a fever that overtook my body, overwhelmed my brain. Was this the hysteria that the doctors warned women could be subject to?
Kira cared for neither Jenna's wants or my needs as she continued to command Jenna in removing my clothing.
"There is no time for the boots, simply undo her petticoats, untie the bloomers and pull them down to her boots, the stockings will roll themselves out of the way. Miss Annabelle needs to do something, doesn't she?" Kira stated, as if aware of my need to touch myself as the coloured staff had been doing while Ming was being punished and servicing .
Jenna yarded up my skirts, and I found myself holding them at my waist. Her little black fingers were surprisingly strong, she was a good and hard worker, if easily distracted. She made quick work of my bloomer ties and hauled them down over my arse with all the care of a fisherman hauling in his nets. I whimpered, but Kira simply placed a finger beneath my chin and directed my gaze up to hers as she smiled down at me, silently commanding me to stillness as my underclothes were pulled down my thighs, and then over my calves and boot tops. I felt like the heavy clothes now bound my legs fast like some African slaver's leg irons, some of which my husband had owned until 1807 when the trade was outlawed. Somehow that thought only made my hysteria grow.
Kira looked down at my sex, the fine red hair not trimmed like Kira's own, but also finer, thinner, more like a covering of lace over my womanly parts. To my eternal shame, the curse of the red head was in full force, and my sex was swollen, red, and open like a flower, its petals promising honey to any passing bee that cared to dip into my depths even lightly. My arousal was impossible to hide. Jenna crudely leaned down and gave it a quick sniff and kiss.
"Oh what a pretty little peach. I bet the Earl buries his moustaches in that every night. I am surprised the hair in those things is still straight, diving in this honey pot is guaranteed to curl the hair in that walrus thing the Earl has for a moustache. I would smell like peach all day, I would." Jenna said, rubbing her nose into my sex, and kissing it lightly. I dropped my hands to her head, and felt my body arching up to her mouth, chasing that kiss, when Kira grabbed Jenna's head and pulled her back. I whimpered like a puppy whose treat was just taken away.
"Now Miss Annabelle, it seems you got quite aroused watching me keeping discipline in the house for you. You are a decently married woman, a fine noble lady. Wife of an Earl and mother to the same. It would be unbecoming to allow a servant to touch you, would it not. No. Miss Annabelle is going to have to treat her hysteria herself." Kira said, smiling with the cruelty of a cat.
"You want me to touch myself, down there?" I asked, I don't know if I wanted clarification, denial, or simply direction. I needed to touch myself, but I could not touch myself. Masturbation was a sin, it was a failure of my fidelity to my husband. My body belonged to him, to bear his children and give him pleasure. Pleasure was my husbands domain, not mine. I was a good wife, a good woman. I had been faithful, I had born and suckled his sons. I was a good woman, a church going woman. A decent woman.
Kira turned to Jenna.
"Jenna, perhaps Miss Annabelle has never been instructed in how to pleasure herself. From what the staff reports, her husband the Earl is neither talented at giving pleasure, nor very long about attempting it. Show her how a common slut, a veteran dockside whore, plays with herself." Kira ordered.
"Bloody hell yes Miss Kira. Watching you work Ming over has me hotter than the gun deck of a 74 mid battle!" Jenna said, utterly unselfconsciously as she pulled her heavy black breasts from her maid uniform, and yarded up her skirt to reveal thick black thighs and the dark forest where they met. I found myself thinking of Black Forest Cake as I looked at her womanhood, for there was the dark red of cherry in the chocolate folds of her sex. Jenna began to stroke her breasts, cupping them and running the hands up to graze her nipples, shorter and darker than my own. She ran her fingers on either side of her sex, stroking, petting.
I gasped with shock as he moved her breast up to her own mouth, and began sucking the nipple! Her breasts were smaller than mine, a corner of my mind wondered if I could do that thing. The one thing my husband did routinely was play with my breasts, sucking on them, and it brought me the only joy I had known at his touch, but I had never thought to do it myself.
I watched her fingers play inside the folds of her sex, plunging in, then running the finger tips up to the swelling but at the top of her womanhood.
"Look at her work her cunt. She is a slut, so she is wet. She is a whore, as her mother was a whore. A natural born whore, so she is wet already. See how she takes it, and strokes it up her flower, those are called labia, at the top, the pearl? That is called the clit. See how she wets her clit with her cunt juices? Can you do that, Miss Annabelle?" Kira whispered in my ear, pressing her fully dressed body behind me on the bed and supporting me as I faced Jenna.
I reached down and found my own womanhood was as wet as Jenna, if not more. I slipped a finger inside and felt my sex grip it. Such a feeling, how to describe, I feel my finger moving into me, parting my tightness, yet I also feel the heat, the incredible heat and wetness from my finger. I move my hips unconsciously against the direction of my finger. I find myself rocking, as I push one finger into me slowly. God. Again, deeper, I can feel the pads of my fingers scrape inside me. I can feel my hips bucking against the touch as my palm slaps against my folds, my labia Kira called them. It was so much more intense than when my husband mounted me. I drew up my finger, tracing the outline of my sex and found the pearl, the clit Kira called it.
Mary Mother of God, it isn't like I had never washed myself. It isn't like I had never touched there before. Now it was like it was awake, now it was like a whip of lightning slept in that little bud, and whenever I touched it, lightning would arc through my body. I cried out.
"Do you have a cunt, Miss Annabelle? Is your cunt all wet from watching my discipline your staff? Does your cunt need to cum Miss Annabelle?"
Kira whispered in my ear, licking it, nibbling on it. My god, even my ear can make my body shake. I am pinching my nipple, pulling on it, the lightning from my breast connecting to my clit, I am panting like a racing horse at the half mile, my body is starting to buck, like a restive animal.
"Yes Miss Kira, I have a cunt. A wet cunt. I don't know what cum means Miss Kira." I begged, rubbing my clit and stroking my breasts with my left hand, feeling my heavy wedding ring catch at my nipple in my fumbling frenzy.
"Poor little Miss Annabelle hasn't found slut Annabelle yet. Let me introduce you. Cumming feels like THIS!" Kira reached around and grabbed both my nipples and pinched them so hard a shot of pain lanced through me. She bit down on my right earlobe, and my body pitched a fit. I had some sort of seizure. I thought I was going to die. I stopped breathing, I bit down so hard I feared I would break my teeth. Every muscle in my body spasmed, again and again. Like the spasms of labour only rendered a hundred times faster, yet it was not pain that shot through my body, it was pleasure. I screamed.
It was not a high pitched distress scream like a maiden should offer, it was more akin to the howling of a wolf bitch. I felt my sex flood around my fingers. I shuddered again and again as my fingers drew higher and higher pleasure from my touch until I had to stop because it had progressed from pleasure into pain. I shuddered helplessly in Kira's arms.
In front of me Jenna drove her fingers into herself, and screamed "FUCKING WHITE WHORE!" as she came, actually spraying a bit.
Kira sighed in my ear. Then she said to Jenna in the quiet firm tones of a professional.
"Jenna, that was a disrespectful way to speak to Lady Annabelle. You know I do not permit any violations of House Order. I will have to discipline you tomorrow before the staff. You were lout enough that your punishment will have to be public." Kira spoke quietly but firmly.
Jenna stood up, thrust the fingers wet from her cunt directly into my mouth.
God in heaven forgive me, I suckled on them like my babies used to suckle on my breast. I licked her fingers clean of their own sexual essence like I was a starving woman and this was the last honey on earth. Jenna and Kira both giggled, then Jenna stood back, allowed her skirt to fall and yarded her maid outfit back over her pendulous breasts before offering Kira and I a very proper curtsey.
"Yes Miss Kira. Sorry Miss Kira. This lowly maid begs for correction Miss Kira." Jenna said, curtseying each time, but her grin cheeky and unrepentant.
Kira rose from the bed behind me. She looked me over and said as if nothing untoward had happened at all.
"You seem to have treated the hysteria properly. You look much more relaxed now Miss Annabelle. Will you be joining the staff to witness Jenna's punishment tomorrow? I will have to warn the staff if you do, so they know what to expect." Kira offered with the same respectful professionalism with which she had made of this house one of the best managed in all of London.
"Yes Miss Kira, I would like to be there for all future discipline you perform. I think it is important for me to be more involved in the house order."
Kira's smile made me blush and look to the ground. It occurred to me that she was fully dressed, fully composed, while I, the noble lady, was covered in my own juices, breasts bare, and all my small clothes binding my feet like some sort of slave chains. I glanced at her from the corner of my eye, and saw her smirk. My body trembled to see her look of superiority. I had the breeding to carry off any social situation. I nodded to her regally.
"That will be all Miss Kira. Carry on." I said, cursing myself for addressing her as Miss Kira, as if I was one of her staff, not the Lady of the Manor.
Kira beamed, then gave a perfect curtsey. "Very good ma'am. I will send Ming to collect you tomorrow when it is time."
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