A Fine Profession (The Chambermaid's Tales Part One) (14 page)

“
What like?” I asked.

“
Various pleasures, my sweet Lottie. Some things are ritual, others quite playful. I wouldn't want to spoil your fun by giving the game away before you even get started.”

“
Hmm,” I replied, totally unconvinced. “What if I just came to one of your gatherings, observed, and decided I didn't want to take part?”

“
Hardly ever happens,” she said.

“
What do you mean?”

“
Few resist the urge. Others know that once within our fold, there is little chance of escape. It's a way of life and one which many of us live, swear and flourish by.”

“
I don't fit the bill,” I insisted.

“
Of course you don't, that's why you're one of us.”

“
I mean, I'm not academic. I'm a housekeeper.”

“
A role that will entice many,” she asserted.

I wasn't sure about joining what I considered
a group of swingers. Yet, I was so intrigued. I wanted another chance with Florence's lover and others like him. I felt it wouldn't be too traumatic to get involved with them. What did I have to lose?

I said I'd think about it but h
er expert fingers inside me soon did the convincing.

“
You'll wear only undergarments from now on, when you're with us, I mean. And, if I were you, I'd get practising your orgasms. I'd stock up on some toys. You're an object of desire and pleasure now. I'll give you two or three weeks to prepare.”

“
Okay,” I gasped. With the drug of love in my veins, I would have agreed to anything she said.

*              *              *

I decided that the underwear-only thing rather suited me. The only things I was really comfortable in were waist-hugging items, rather than the High Street sacks that did nothing but drown my frame.

I withdrew £500 from my account and stashed it in my wallet, with a reserve of 500 more on my card if I needed it. It was time to blow a little. I had stashed plenty over the years, from scraping and wiping, vacuuming, fetching and carrying. For the first time in my life, I went for a bra fitting at one of the big department stores, instead of trying to guess at my size with various options to try on in the fitting rooms – none of which were usually any good.

The woman exclaimed, “Well, 34D is way off the mark, way off. You're a 30FF!”

Flabbergasted, I asked her to double check, and I knew I had an audience in the next fitting room who probably thought I was a complete idiot. The woman ran off to fetch me a number of items in my size that fit my requirements. I was just helpin
g myself into one of the basques she had brought me when I twisted my arm in trying to reach one annoyingly agape hook and eye. I had to press the buzzer for help. She came in to help me, assessing the garment and seeing to the culprit of my discomfort. I looked totally different with underwear that actually fitted! The woman said it was a good fit and asked if I wanted help getting out of it. Why not, I said.

She undid all the hooks, carefully picking them apart one by one as I held the front steady. When she was done, I gave her my thanks and said I should be fine from then on. But when she was about to leave, I lost my concentration and let the garment slip. My full cleavage was there for her to see and she smiled blushingly, before busying off. I locked the fitting room door, got completely naked, and fucked myself twice between trying on all the racy stuff. I might have had an audience. I imagined I might in fact, and it turned me on. I even left my juices on some of the knickers and s
miled to myself as the cashier rung them through the till.

I went to other stores, buying lots of things in various colours and styles, just picking whatever
I wanted off the racks. I purchased basques and corsets, balconettes, ordinary bras that were see-through or lacy, suspenders, stockings in black, white and natural, lace tights in some distracting, creative patterns, heels, slips, silk dressing gowns, vests, camisoles, G-strings, thongs and French knickers, Bridget pants, lace shorts and all manner of other items I could not even describe to you! I did think about going to a sex shop and picking out some things for show, but they weren't things I wanted. I was trying to be me and be a real woman and be sexy. My opinion was that no man wants a woman with a split down the crotch of her knickers, unless she's only for a night. The thought of tearing those panties himself or pulling them to the side would be much more of an incentive. These men needed the memory of me to linger in their minds; real and tangible, like O. I chose high-end cosmetics and beauty products, plus a selection of perfumes from the same retailer. I needed all the scents to be as complementary.

The stock of toys I required meant an online purchase. It would have been too impractical to walk into a shop and come out with bags or boxes full. Dildos in
a range of sizes and colours, vibrators, bullets, rampant rabbits, nipple clamps, lube in various flavours, handcuffs, blindfolds, masks, strap-ons, aphrodisiac gel, a leather corset dress I couldn't resist, body stockings, ticklers, gags in different styles and a couple of paddles. I also wanted something authentic from an equestrian store so I went, asked for the product, and nothing else. The shop assistant must have had some inkling of my intention and smiled, repeatedly asking whether I required anything else. Modestly, I assured him that was all I wanted. It came packaged in a wooden box, laid amongst purple silk. It was of the highest quality and was another treat for myself. A riding crop: only the best. It was beautiful and soft, but I knew, a bit of wear and tear would shore it up as a threatening prop. I kept it at pride of place, on my dressing table, perfumes decorating the top.

I might have spent upwards of a thousand pounds but my purchases made me so happy, and I hung everything in my closet when I got home, taking all my old clothes out and putting them in drawers instead. I had a perfect store for my sex toys at work – a laundry cart that I could keep in my office at the back, out of the way and out of bounds. I would take a few things at a time so nobody would notice.
I would need to practise a lot.

Florence called me to her house ten days later with a view to me accompanying her and Mark to one of their secret meetings, only after they had been given chance to prepare me within the secretive confines of their home.

I arrived to the flustered pair's welcome and was swiftly escorted into their chambers upstairs, which I hadn't seen before. They were spacious and exuberant, reminiscent of some French king's apartment
, with everything in pastels or white. Every inch of the space was upholstered in delightfully extravagant velvet or fur and the bedroom's set-up was certainly geared toward playtime. Harnesses and BDSM equipment lay everywhere, amongst pairs of old knickers left stale and huge antique perfume atomisers that might contain any kind of lotion or potion. I was very jealous of Florence's walk-in-wardrobe and en suite bathroom, both of which were ridiculously exuberant.

Mark saw my face and muttered,
“Her dad…”

Ah, so,
Florence is moneyed
, I decided. Containing her wealth in her private rooms made me wonder whether she was ashamed of what she had.

Firstly, they plonked me in the
walk-in-shower without asking and scrubbed me head-to-toe. They shaved me free of any pubic, leg or armpit fur. I remember Mark saying that a lot of men had a thing for little blonde trails of hair on a woman's body and I had plenty at my lower back, abdomen and little bits of down between my breasts which you might only notice if I were laid down. He was rather ecstatic at the thought of me pleasing his friends and the way he and Flo (as I had come to call her) scuttled around me excitedly, it was as if this was as much a part of their foreplay as all the other things that might take place that night.

“
There are some little initiations the group might like you to take part in,” Flo said.

“
Yes?” I asked.

“
Nothing painful, just, little exercises to test your skills,” she asserted.

“
Flo, you will look after me, won't you?”

“
Of course petal, of course, but I sense you will take to this more than you imagine.”

“
Really?”

“
Oh yes.”

“
There is one thing, though, Flo,” Mark said.

“
Ah yes…” she said.

“
What?” I asked.

“
There is something you must learn beforehand. Something… something intimate.”

“
Go on…” I said. I wondered what could be more intimate than standing naked before near-strangers and preparing to be probed by other people.

“
I'll show you,” Flo decided. “That shall be easier.” She nodded at Mark.

Mark unfastened the parts of
Florence's corset that were locked and she sat on the edge of a roll-top bath nearby. She spread her legs. She had a tiny little pussy. It was pink, slim, and shaved bare like mine was. It resembled a flower on a spring morning, ready for a shower of rain to quench her thirst. How Mark could loan her out, I did not know. She was lovely, even I could see that. Why would he want anyone else? My own pussy was deep-red and thick with layers of quilt. Perhaps that made for a better, more accommodating home for his extra-large cock. Mark bent down and started licking her slit. She lifted her feet to his shoulders and begged for him to release her nipples, so he unclasped those too. Being freed instantly aroused her and they moaned together. She fondled her own breasts and her womanhood became exceedingly wet. I could hear Mark's lapping.

Flo gasped, almost at the point of orgasm. She pushed Mark's tongue toward he
r hidden depths and explained, “At this moment, Lottie, I am very close. I am resisting. I know that if I resist, I will be in for a bigger payday.”

“
What do you mean?” I asked.

“
I can feel the pulses in my cunt sponge, darling. I am so eager to cum and yet I abstain. I do so for one reason. Mark… oh Mark,” she gasped, panting.

He moved away and placed his fingers inside her, right up to the knuckle. He massaged her cunt and flicked his fingers in and out, hitting the clit every now and again.

She described to me every feeling she had.

“
Lottie, my angel, I can feel the hot whispers of desire. I want to cum. I am stopping myself. I feel if I let myself go, if I break my concentration, I will orgasm with or without touch. With or without… my body is on the edge of surrender.”

Mark moved away from
her altogether to observe and let me see too. Flo was red and furious with impending delight. Her hand reached down instinctually and she touched her clitoris, mashing and grinding the flesh with her fingers.

“
Lottie… ah… ah… I am stopping… I am stopping. I am holding my muscles tight. I am straining. I am… ee… oh…
mon amour
…
mon amour
…
non, non
…
je t’aime
.”

She kept her gaze fixed on Mark and
I knew that his presence alone could arouse her to the point of crisis, without any intervention on his or her part. She really loved him, I could tell. Some more minutes passed. I watched eagerly, waiting to see what trick she had in store. Mark rubbed his cock a little as he watched her. He would need to fuck one of us afterward, I knew.

“
I am so close, so close…” she said.

She started moaning deeply, from the pits of her belly, shuddering and shaking. She could barely hold herself steady on the edge of the bath. She bucked into her fingers and she sa
id, “I want to piss, I want to piss, I want to… ah ooh uh, uh, uh, ooh,” she screamed.

I watched as stream after stream spurted out of her. The
multiple female orgasm. I had read about it. As soon as she was done, Mark threw her body on the floor and sunk his savage cock inside her. He fucked her mercilessly. She was so sensitive she had to grit her teeth. She clung onto his shoulders and wailed. I lay right next to them, unable to stop myself. They were a hot couple and I was easily aroused. I touched my pussy and did as she had, stopping at every point I wanted to cum before recommencing. When the impulse became unbearable, I used my palm to massage my pussy raw. When I was taken by intense desire, I pushed down hard in my groin, and the musky squirt came, maybe twice. Mark watched with animalistic yearning and he shot his load into Florence as soon as he saw my desire spew forth. We all lay there in a heap afterward, before climbing in the shower together. Florence and I kissed for a while. I was turned on by her simply because she was a sexual being and so was I. I touched her breasts and it was pleasant, but I much preferred the feel of a man's hard, furry chest against mine. She showed me how best to arouse a lover with kisses and Mark groaned in the background. I was aroused to see him watching us. He must have thought himself the luckiest fucker on the planet. We all took great care in washing our genitalia clean afterward.

She and Mark dressed me in some of the things I had brought. They decided on a black satin basque that had hooks at the front, with matching thong and suspenders, plus some simple black stockings and a white frilly pinny of Flo's that might make me look like the woman I in fact was. I was handed a white feather duster and they painted my lips dark red and my eyes with thick black eyeliner. My kitten heels were even decorated with feathers too in fact. My hair was slicked back and when I saw myself in the mirror, it was as though I was looking at a separate person. I decided that all the other women out there must have known of this secret all this time and I had simply been missing it: that all we need do is dress and preen according to the situation and we would be prepared for anything. For, in wearing this battle armour, one could convince oneself of anything perhaps. Flo lent me one of her huge capes to cover me up and we made our way out to their car. Flo was of course in her usual leather get-up beneath her layers and Mark donned a black silk robe reminiscent of those things academics wore. It was not at all flattering but was perhaps traditional, I imagined, and allowed for quick access from the front. He was entirely naked beneath and wore some kind of soft leather slippers. He and I sat in the backseat behind tinted windows.

The couple
did not explain much in the car. They said it was best that I simply remain ignorant, so that I'd experience the initiation as innocently and as uninformed as possible. If I went with any predetermined ideas or notions, they felt sure the whole process would not work as well or have as much of an effect on me.

Flo drove us out into the countryside and they asked me to don a blindfold after a certain point, stating that if I should decide not to be part of this sect after all, they would prefer to keep their secrecy. Outside the vehicle, I heard the crunch of a long farmer's track beneath the wheels and detected the sounds of birds chirruping and crickets humming. We had obviously ventured deep into
Sherwood Forest, to a hidden, remote place not easily travelled to. I heard other vehicles, like ours, slowly snaking their way up the drive to wherever it was we were going.

Mark removed the blindfold when we
were almost there. I blinked through a fog of returning vision before seeing a very large, elegant, almost stately, wooden lodge up ahead in the distance. We were parked in a long queue of vehicles waiting to be shown into the grounds. Flo prepared some invitations for inspection in the front seat.

The retreat was in the style of a Georgian manor house but built
entirely from rich, dark-red wood, possibly cedar or oak. I had never seen the like before. A staircase with a carved balustrade led guests up between huge pillars that might have actually been transplanted tree trunks. There were tall windows with large, modern chandeliers glistening inside. It was strange to see such a place existing amidst such thick greenery. The building itself hadn't any gardens, for it was surrounded by enough landscape without any of its own. I imagined a natural lake may lay at the back or even a bowling green or a swimming pool, for this did seem like the creation of some billionaire with more money than sense, and with a definite obsession for this period. Whoever owned the property was also trying to hide it from prying eyes, clearly.

“
Okay, little Lottie,” Mark said, in his rugged Nottinghamshire tones. His was the deep, generous voice of a man from working class stock made good, him being a lead archivist at the Nottingham Archives but the grandson of a miner. “When we go in, we shall see everything the house has on offer and we shall, at first, observe until the Grandmaster calls to give us his audience. He always likes to meet new members and ensure you're suitable. You'll be asked to undergo some of the rites and then if successful, you'll be marked and allowed to go about your business. Do you oblige?”

“
Yes,” I said. I didn't feel like there was any reason to be afraid. All the other vehicles waiting to approach were expensive makes and models, carrying occupants that looked well-heeled and civilised. Flo and Mark were strange characters but I knew none inside could be much stranger. My friends were quite a pretty couple but I did not fancy either of them, not like that. Not like Alex. Not like when you only need look at someone once to know you are insatiably and fundamentally attracted to them, body and soul. No, Flo was a woman and I was hetero to the last. Mark was a bit too dark-haired for my liking, though he had a big cock and a good physique. He could seem very handsome sometimes in a certain light but he was just, I don't know, not my cup of tea.

When we eventually got inside, Flo and I checked our capes and Mark remained in his robes. We mingled in with those who were dressed like us and we certainly didn't draw attention any
more than any other attendees.

Flo explained,
“The building is owned by a co-operative of sorts and maintained through various events, including masked balls. Tonight is for the more elite members and their special guests, of course.”

“
What do you call it?” I asked.

“
Hambleton Lodge,” Mark replied.

I nodded and tried to keep my gaze in check as bodies of various sizes and a
ges slipped by us. I didn't feel remotely self-conscious because of the way in which Mark and Flo reassured me. We were having a glass of wine in the vast reception hall before heading further into the retreat.

Mark
seemed to be one of the most recognised guests. He received a few nods from others and doffed his invisible cap. I thought perhaps he had gained some sort of reputation in that pleasure dome… I decided that he must have some talents outside of his obvious ability to carry out a thorough fucking. He had snared a woman as intelligent and talented as Flo… Their relationship intrigued me and yet it would be a while yet before I understood it.

A bell was rung and everyone began leaving the waiting area. Blinds were brought down over the windows all around and lights were
dimmed. Men dressed in leather uniforms lit dozens of candelabra that streamed throughout the whole building. Everywhere was then tinged by flickering low-lighting. A deep, almost hibiscus, scent was present wherever you went and it was apparent the floors were regularly polished. There was little decoration in that house save for the ornate ceiling carvings, large beams and luxurious wood-panelled walls with forest creatures acting as fixtures for the gloomy lighting.