Disclaimer: The following is a fictional story. It may contain descriptions of straight, gay, lesbian and solo sex. If this offends you or it is illegal for you to read this, then DON'T...
Any comments, responses, etc would be welcome. Email me: a_serway@hotmail.com
THE SERVANT GIRL ================
CHAPTER I
Lara gazed out the open castle window, the crisp fresh breeze tugging her long red curls. She could see out over the dark green treetops of a small forest, and then across a broad green plain that stretched far off to the horizon. The orphan girl brushed her red hair from her big, sparkling green eyes, tucking it under the cap that all servants wore. Her thin lipped, small mouth was frozen in a wistful, faraway smile that hinted at longing. Lara longed to be out in these beautiful lands, exploring, adventuring, to be free. However, as she lowered her gaze to the immediate surrounds of the castle, she knew it to be an impossible dream. The small cottages that housed the villagers were tucked outside the keep walls, and although the commoners could come and go as they pleased, she, as a servant, found little time for journeying far beyond the towering stone battlements. She knew of the small woods to the east, and as a youngster, had spent precious days playing with her friends, darting innocently amongst the majestic oaks. To the west was the ocean, a vast, flat, glittering expanse on which awaited adventure, and the town of Woodhall proper. Woodhall had a port, and in her rare free moments, Lara enjoyed walking down to the docks and watching the sailors work on the exotically named ships, unloading goods from afar, as she dreamed that one day she would travel to the home ports of these wandering vessels. But that was adventure that she would likely never know.
It wasn't that Lara didn't like Woodhall: she had grown up here, lived her entire life here. But it just got, well... Boring. Lara was an orphan, and had been left on the doorstep of a monastery as a baby, and raised until she was ten, at which time she was turned over to the service of the Duke of Woodhall. And she had been in his service for the six years since.
Lara was snapped out of her trance-like state by Lady Winford's shrill voice commanding her.
"Lara! Back to work."
"Yes ma'am."
Lady Winford was Princess Caroline's governess, a round motherly woman in her later years, as well as being the head of the servants. Lara turned from the window, and looked back into Princess Caroline's room, which she was meant to be cleaning. Lady Winford's large girth had appeared at the door to check her work, and had caught her daydreaming.
"Young lady, if you kept your mind on your work, it would be done much quicker, leaving you all the time you want to daydream."
"Sorry, m'lady."
With a "hmmph", Lady Winford disappeared from the door, leaving Lara to clean. The Princess' quarters were in the north-east tower, a large stone room, richly furnished, kept warm by a large fireplace, which Lara was now cleaning. Princess Caroline's two brothers, Roland and Liam, had quarters in two other towers, but Lara did not have to clean them today. She coughed, breathing in ash and soot, as she knelt down and swept the remains of last night's fire into a bucket. When it was finished she looked at her hands, blackened and dirty, and realised now she could not make the princesses' bed without dirtying the sheets. Cursing her stupidity, she stood up and went to the window to dust off her hands. Wiping the remainder on the hem of her long, ankle length skirt, she then made the large, four-poster mahogany bed, pulling the covers up neatly. Tomorrow she would do the bed first. She picked up Caroline's nightdress and went to the large cupboard which housed the princess' opulent wardrobe.
As she opened it, a pang of jealousy struck her as always. Within was a stunning array of colourful outfits, hanging neatly, in a vast range of exotic materials. Lara fingered the lace collar on one delicately, as she looked down at her own attire. She wore a grey dress with white lace trimming, tight in the torso and sporting long, billowy skirts, as all servant girls did. Lara did not hate it as some of the others did, but next to Princess Carloine's clothes, it's appearance was downright dreary. The princess was of the same age as Lara, sixteen, and of similar build, so Lara toyed with the notion of trying one on. She knew it would be a beating if she was caught. Her desire overrode her mind, and putting the nightgown away, she took a long yellow gown off the hook. Holding it up to herself, she looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror hanging on the door.
Looking back was a sixteen year-old whose young body was bursting with ripeness. She pulled off her servant cap, and shook out her thick red curls. They fell gently about her shoulders, framing her round face, which although smeared with soot from the fireplace, was extremely attractive. The high cut dress she wore could not hide her generous curves. Her breasts, even at sixteen, were large, firm and well developed, an obvious fact despite being flattened by the tight, unflattering outfit. The princess's dress was cut low at the neck, and Lara knew she would fill it out admirably. Yet reality came crashing in, and she guiltily hung it back up, shutting the wardrobe.
She glanced back around the room, looking for anything she had missed. This morning, after the princess had left to do whatever it was she did, Lara had scrubbed the slate floor, beat out the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace, polished the candlesticks, dusted the furniture, cleaned the fireplace and made the bed. No other chores sprang to mind, so Lara left the princesses' quarters to report to Lady Winford. She wound her way down the spiral staircase to the base of the tower. The soldier stationed to guard the princesses' room nodded in recognition as she swept past.
She picked her way across the busy courtyard, where soldiers where training, children were playing, servants were scurrying. She entered the servants quarters to find Lady Winford sitting and chatting with Marna, a cook. Lara knew better than to interrupt the moody governess, so she waited until Lady Winford noticed.
"You finished in her highness's room?", she asked roughly. Lara nodded
"Good. That's all I need done until the princess gets back. You need anything done, Marna?"
"The kitchen could do with a clean. Still dirty from breakfast."
"I believe Meg is already doing that, Miss Marna," said Lara.
"So go help her, girl," snapped Lady Winford.
Lara had wanted to rest, catch up with some of the other girls who she could hear giggling in the bunk room, but duty came first, as always.
"Yes ma'am," replied Lara meekly. She curtsied swiftly and hurried in the direction of the kitchen. Cooks were more highly placed than other servants, and as such Lara was required to act formally. She hoped soon to become an apprentice to Roderick, the head cook. He was a fat, jovial man who was fond of eating the food he dispensed. Despite holding a higher rank, he treated the servants fairly, and was well-liked. Lara saw cooking as a means to getting out of Woodhall. If she showed enough skill, Duke Balton might well employ her as his personal chef, taking her journeys across the land, to foreign cities. She could dream, couldn't she?
Presently, Lara arrived at the kitchen. Roderick and a cook whom Lara did not know were busy preparing lunch. Roderick did not notice Lara entering; he never did whilst he was cooking. But Lara's good friend Meg did, looking up from her bench-scrubbing. She smiled warmly at the sight of her friend, tossing her a spare rag. The two friends talked as they worked.
"Where have you been this morning, Lara?" asked Meg.
"All this week I've got to clean Princess Caroline's room first thing."
"That's not such a bad duty. I've got laundry most of this week."
"That's not bad either, Meg."
"Oh yeah? Ever since the Princess took up horse riding it's gotten worse. It seems her highness isn't very skilled. Her clothes are always filthy."
"The spoiled brat probably rubs them in the dirt just to create work for us," said Lara with disgust.
"Shhh, Lara. You mustn't speak of her highness that way... At least, not here."
Lara smiled, giggling. Suddenly Roderick's voice interrupted.
"Lara, enough hysterics. Be a good girl and run this down to the stables for Mitchum," he said, handing her some large, paper-wrapped sandwiches. "He's going riding with the princess, and wants some food."
"Yessir," said Lara taking the package of food. She gave Meg a squeeze on the shoulder and a smile goodbye as she hurried out of the room.
The stables were a low building by the north gate. The smell of horses assaulted her as she neared the wooden structure. Mitchum and the Princess were already mounted, waiting to go. Lara looked up longingly at Caroline as she curtsied low. She would give anything to have riding lessons. From her lower position looking up at the princess, the sun shone brightly through her wavy blonde hair, giving her a radiant glow. Her blue eyes sparkled, her mouth was drawn in a faint, faraway smile.
"Your highness," said Lara. Caroline looked down, nodded slightly, and looked away again. Then Lara turned to Mitchum.
"Sir, I have the food you requested."
"Good."
She handed the sandwiches to the horsemaster, who was a man of few words.
"Mitchum, let us go," said the Princess.
The two spurred their horses, and rapidly galloped off. Lara watched them ride through the open east gate, the Princess sitting uneasily in the saddle. Soon they had disappeared amongst the tall trees of the woods.
Lara sighed, and leaned against the wooden rail of the stable fence. The Duke's magnificent black stallion was here, snorting and stamping impatiently, itching to run free.
She turned away, and was about to return to the kitchen, when Lara saw another servant girl, Jana, disappear around the side of the stables. Lara knew Jana slightly, had spoken with her on several occasions. Jana was older though, twenty-something, and so did not mix well with Lara, Meg and their group.
"Jana," called Lara, hoping to strike up a conversation. There was no answer. Lara was curious, as there was nothing around there but the stableboy's quarters. Jack was the current stableboy, apprentice to Mitchum. But a stableboy did not warrant a servant, and as such Jana should not be near there during work hours. Lara entered the stables, a long building divided into sections, each holding a horse. The smell of hay and manure was strong, as she walked quietly towards the back of the building. Sunlight was filtering through the cracks in the walls and roof, creating stripes of light on the horses' gleaming coats. Over the sounds of their breathing and snorting, she heard soft voices.
"Is it safe?"
That was Jana.
"Yes. Mitchum's gone riding with the Princess. We're alone."
"Oh Jack, I've been thinking about you always."
"I think about you also, Jana,"
Lara reached the end of the stable, she crouched down her hands and knees behind some large bales of hay, and peered round the corner into the stableboy's quarters.
Jack had Jana in his arms, holding her tightly against his chest.
"I love you, Jack."
"I know."
Their faces met, and Lara had to stiffle a giggle as they kissed long and deep. Jana was making little sighing noises, as Jack rubbed against her. Breathlessly, she pulled away.
"Jana, let me see you."
"But..."
"I love you, Jana. I want to see you."
Jana glanced quickly from side to side, and then began to fumble with the laces that pulled her skirt tightly around her chest. She was wearing the exact same grey skirt Lara was. Lara nearly gasped as her amusement turned to surprise when Jana's breasts, no longer confined by the tight fabric, spilled forth. She wanted to look away, but could not.
Jack gazed down longingly. His hands at his sides twitched.
"Touch me," she said.
Lara was transfixed.
Jack slowly reached up, and took one breast in each hand, cupping them gently.
"They're beautiful," he said.
As he squeezed the firm flesh, Jana moaned slightly, her head dropping back. Jack got to his knees and began to kiss their smooth skin. As he took her left nipple in his mouth, she grabbed him by the back of the head, and pressed his face against herself. His hands were now disappearing up under Jana's skirt. Lara's surprise gave way to shock as she saw him pull her panties down around her ankles. Jack stood up, and began to unbuckle his own pants. When he got them open, Lara was amazed to see a fleshy shaft spring forth comically. She had never seen a man naked before: this thing was new, and was making her feel funny. Her stomach felt hot, and the spot between her legs tingled. She had heard some of the older girls talking about guy's "things", and now she knew what they meant.
Jana reached down, and grabbed the hem of her skirt. She pulled it and her petticoat up around her waist, bunching them tightly. She turned her back to Jack, and she was now facing Lara head on. Lara pulled back behind the haystack, in fear of being seen, but she realised Jana had her eyes closed. Peering back over, she saw Jana had bent over bracing herself against a wooden pole supporting the roof, and Jack had positioned himself standing behind her. Lara did not consciously know what was happening, yet on some instinctive level, she understood that he was going to stick his thing in her. Jana grunted slightly, and her mouth which was drawn in a grim line fell open, gaping. Jack uttered some soothing words to her, and began to thrust his hips. Lara's mouth fell open at the sight, and she began to tremble. Hot flushes coursed through her, and her insides boiled.
Jana's motions were almost comical, as she bucked up and down, back and forth, grunting softly in time with the motions. Lara thought she looked like a chicken, the way her head bobbed back and forth, her breasts bouncing widly. Soon they were going faster and faster. Lara could clearly hear the sound of Jack slapping against her naked rear end. It sounded like he was spanking her, but Lara could see both his hands, firmly gripping her waist. Suddenly, Jacked grunted several times, his pace slowing, and they were finished. Jana's face was red and sweaty. Strands of lank brown hair had fallen out from under her servant cap. Jack stepped back, and Jana straightened up, pulling her panties up. Jack's shaft was smaller now, floppy, hanging down between his hairy thighs.
"I've got go now," said Jana, kissing Jack on the cheek. "I love you."
Jack did not answer as he wiped his thing on Jana's skirt. Jana left, yet still Lara was too scared to move in case she made a sound. Jack leaned back against the stable wall, mopping his sweaty brow with his sleeve. His other hand reached down and rubbed idly at the flaccid thing hanging between his legs. Suddenly, he tucked it away and left, and only then did Lara let out a sigh of relief.
She sat back against a rectangular bale of hay, to make sense of what had just happened. Lara's hands were trembling uncontrollably, her breath shaky and thin. Her stomach was filled with butterflies. It was then she realised she had wet herself. But she was sure she hadn't...
Lara reached up under her skirt, and sure enough, the crotch of her panties was damp. She hadn't wet herself since she was three. She looked around making sure she was alone, and pulled the underwear off over her boots. She quickly gave them a sniff: the wetness didn't smell like urine. Besides there wasn't enough of it. She pulled her skirts up around her waist, and looked down at herself.
She had never really considered the spot between her legs, and as she looked down now, a guilt swept over her. There was a fiery red crop of hair there, but what struck her was the way her slit was glistening wet. Tentatively, she touched herself. A pleasant sensation shot through her, along with more guilt. Slowly, carefully, she began to trace her middle finger back and forth over the slick opening, methodically exploring. The pleasure that came with these fresh sensations eased the boiling feeling that watching Jack and Jana had left in her. The faster she rubbed, the more she enjoyed herself, and soon Lara realised she was sliding her middle finger right up into her young body. But she could not stop herself. Instinct drove her now, sixteen years of desire came flooding forth. Her chest heaved, she hunched over lewdly, her thighs twitching. Oh yes! She could get in so far! Was she damaging herself? These thoughts quickly disappeared, a fiery sensation quickly building between her legs: the only way she could rid herself of it was to go harder and faster. Her hand working between her legs became a frenzied blur of motion, until something deep inside her burst, sensations filling her in a way she could never have imagined. She realised she was crying aloud, and quickly clapped her free hand over her mouth to muffle the surprised groans. She could feel her hole spasming around her probing finger, twitching, rippling, drawing it in, her heels drumming against the ground as her legs quaked, horses stamping, breathing impatiently as if they too could sense the discovery. Slowly, the joyous feelings subsided, and her laboured breathing and racing heart steadied.
And then there was confusion. What had happened to her? What were the pleasurable feelings that had spread through her? She withdrew her finger to find it wet. Before she could think about it, she popped her finger into her mouth a sucked it clean. It definitely was not piss, nor monthly blood. What was this mysterious liquid that smelt odd, tasted strangely exotic? And those feelings again, she could not get them out of her mind, that warm, fuzzy explosion that left her hole twitching... How could something that felt so good be bad? Lara had been walking around all these years without knowing the pleasure she carried between her legs. Did the other girls know? Yet she was afraid to ask. The monks who had raised her taught her to hide the spot between her legs. They had not told her about this, though. Did they know? Or was she alone blessed with this gift?
These thoughts raced around her head, until she realised she had no idea how long she had been away from the kitchen. She quickly pocketed her soiled panties, and stood up, dusting and straightening herself. As she walked back she tried to put her activities in the stables out of her mind. But the image of Jana bobbing up and down in front of Jack was burned in her mind, and her slit tingled at the memory of her touch.