Lady’s Maid Ch. 04: A New Recruit

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What did an MP’s wife do? In my case a lot.

Mr Baldwin, now Prime Minister, invited the new MPs and their wives to dinner at 10 Downing St. Because Archie’s father was a grandee in the Party, he was given a post as parliamentary under-secretary to the undersecretary of State at the Foreign Office. When I joked that he was under a lot of men, he blushed and changed the subject; we never went there. What he did in his bedroom was, like what I did in mine, none of each other’s business. This preferment meant we were in the first batch of new MPs invited to dine.

I liked Mr Baldwin from the off. He looked like what he was, a Midlands Iron-Master, a man who ran a medium-sized business, took care of his workers, and, as a result of his local position, had become an MP. Whatever passed for “normal” in a profession full of sociopaths, Mr B was “normal” – his habit of sniffing blotting paper notwithstanding. His wife Lucy was what my Mama would have called “a duck.” Sweet, non-assuming, kind and going to fat. She was sweet to me, as was her husband.

10 Downing St is surprisingly big inside, and being the height I am, I rather got lost during the pre-dinner drinks. Mr B, seeing me dwarfed, made a beeline for me.

“Lady Cynthia, isn’t it? I gather you had a good election?”

I smiled, nice of him to remember who I was.

“Yes, but do call me Pixie, everyone does. Poor Archie was indisposed, so it was the least I could do to help.”

“So I gather,” he said, “that may have been a blessing in disguise. Have you ever thought of standing for the House yourself? We could do with a few more women? Mind you, we’d have to push through that voting age bill to allow you and other ‘flappers’ to vote.”

He smiled benignly.

“Will you really bring the bill on Mr Baldwin? That would be spiffing.”

“We will my dear, but I meant it, do talk to the Chief Whip, he’d love a few more ladies on the list, and from what I hear, you might do a good job.”

I blushed. The idea of becoming an MP didn’t appeal, but it was hardly tactful to tell the PM that; I knew my role.

Dinner was pleasant enough, well as much as it can be when one is surrounded by braying egotists anxious to win the PM’s attention, and catty wives who seemed more interested on putting the knives into each other’s husbands than in politics itself.

I sat next to Lady Channon, whose husband was newly elected for Southend. She was a Guinness, and rather wealthy and full of herself.

“Oh so you are married to Archie? He and Chips seem to see a lot of each other. If you get as bored as I do with absence of marital attention, there are a few chaps I know would be happy to see to you, just let me know.”

Chips was known to bat for the other side, as we called it euphemistically. I did hope that did not mean that Archie’s proclivities were known to the Whips, but feared that they were.

Talking with her and the other wives while the men had their port, it was quite clear that to a woman, they all had lovers. Husbands away all week in the House, gave them plenty of opportunity, and they took it. I had several others offer me names, the same names as Lady Channon, but politely declined.

I talked with Mr B over coffee afterwards, and he seemed such a nice man. When I said that I wondered, having seen living conditions in Oldham, why there was not a revolution in our country, he simply replied that he was in politics to prevent that. If a ruling class wanted to continue in place, he said, they needed to serve. I agreed.

It was, in part, that which took Annie and I off every other week to Oldham.

Archie should have gone, but as the Foreign Office took up so much of his time, he never did. So Annie and I went up on the train from Euston to Manchester, where we’d stay at the Piccadilly, and go by cab to the constituency offices in Springhead on Friday, where, with Mr Shufflebottom’s help, and that of a nice secretary called Gwen, we’d deal with business.

As MP, one got a wide variety of business, and it was usually possible to help people. Friday night was always a social event, followed by visits to parts of the constituency güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri on Saturday, before taking the train back to town on Sunday.

We’d get back to the Piccadilly about 11, and there, always, would be Alice Prosser, the former MP, who was now Annie’s lover. I would revert to my role as Annie’s submissive, and we’d enjoy sapphic delights until the early dawn, when Alice would vanish. It went smooth as clockwork.

I would use the hotel to get the letters dictated, and Gwen would take them to the post. Once that was done, there was time for other things.

The maid would come to clean the room once Gwen and Annie had left, and I’d take a cup of tea and relax, the job well done.

“Your Ladyship,” the maid, a well-built young woman in her late teens, commented shyly, “everyone says it’s so good of you to come up so often, most don’t, my dad says.”

“That’s sweet of you to say, Dot, isn’t it?”

She blushed.

“How did you know my name?”

“Well as you do such a good job looking after the room, I asked the Manager who you were and told him so.”

“Oh, thank you, Ma’am,” she stammered, “very kind of you.”

Her thick Lancashire accent made it not always easy to understand her words, but it was lovely that she felt able to talk to me; I so hated the social barriers which seemed to isolate me from those Archie was supposed to be serving.

“Ma’am, can I ask a question?”

“Of course, Dot, ask away.”

“Well, I notice sometimes that Miss Prosser stays over.”

“Yes,” I said, noncommittally.

“It’s just that when she does, the bed linen is soiled. I am used to that in the gentlemen’s rooms, but not here. Why is that?”

Dot was looking at me curiously. She was a fuller-figured young woman, busty and broad in the beam as many of the young girls seemed to be, and had her teeth not been so poor, she’d have been quite pretty.

I looked at her.

“Do we need to go into that, Dot, it’s just a thing ladies do.”

“I see, Ma’am, was that why, when I was cleaning next door last week I heard the sound of spanking? Who was being spanked, Ma’am? And who is ‘slut Pixie,’ surely not you?”

I looked at her warily. Was she trying to blackmail me? In London I would have assumed so, here it seemed doubtful. I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“Are you curious, Dot? Can I ask you a question?”

She blushed.

“Of course, Ma’am.”

“Are you a virgin?”

She went bright red.

“Of course Ma’am, a girl has to keep herself for her wedding night, didn’t you?”

I smiled.

“Oh yes, and indeed, Dot, I am still a virgin.”

She looked stunned.

“But you are a married woman, Ma’am.”

“I prefer girls, Dot.”

She looked at me.

“Oh, what, you mean! But, well, that’s perverted isn’t it?”

“Are you attracted to women, Dot? Do you find my maid, Annie, attractive?”

From the look on her face and the colour of it, it was pretty clear that the answer to my question was that she was, indeed, a virgin and one who liked women.

“Ma’am, it isn’t right, but I can’t help the way I feel.”

Poor thing, I so sympathised. I knew how she felt.

“Can you come back later, Dot, when Annie is here?”

She nodded, stammering her gratitude.

“I’d love to, but my Mum would want to know where I was and why I was out.”

I could see that the lower classes were quite as matriarchal as my own class in these matters.

“Would your Mum like you to bring in extra income, Dot?”

“Oh Ma’am, she would love that.”

“Well, when I am in residence here, I could do with a maid to help keep the rooms tidy, and if one of the hotel maids was willing to take on the extra work I should be prepared to pay her for her time. How would your Mum like that? Shall we say a two pounds for the evening?”

As that was four times her usual rate, she was delighted.

“And what would my duties be, Ma’am?”

“That,” I said, smiling, “is why you need Annie to be here.”

When Annie returned I told her what had happened.

“Lady Pixie, are you saying you güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri want another lower class girl to join your harem?”

“I, I just thought you might like … .”

She stopped me.

“I am joking, it’s a super idea, so let’s go with it.”

We had our usual early supper. The thing about staying at the Piccadilly was that it was nice and central and people knew I was here, so local journalists and politicians would sometimes join me for drinks beforehand. It became quite a thing, and it was amazing how much information one picked up that way – as well as good publicity.

That pleased me, as I was able to show the newspapers to Archie, who loved the fact I was looking after his interests in this way.

After supper we retired to our suite, and bang on eight o’clock there was a knock on the door. Annie answered, and Dot came in.

Bless her, it was not, of course, her fault. Make up was expensive, and it required some artistic skill; Dot had little money and even less by way of artistic skill. The result was that her eye-shadow was, like her lipstick, the wrong colour for her, and inexpertly applied. The dress she wore was no doubt her Sunday best, but women with broad hips and big breasts needed to dress accordingly, or they looked as though they were all bust and bum.

Annie was, as always, welcoming and soon put her at her ease.

“So, Ma’am,” she said to Annie, “what will my work be?”

“Well,” Annie replied, Lady Pixie works so hard as you know, and she needs to relax of an evening, which is where you can come in Dot.”

Dot, bless her, looked puzzled.

“Are you good at obeying orders, Dot?”

“Yes Ma’am,” Dot blushed, “I am.”

“Right, well, Dot the only rule is that you do what I want, when I want and how I want, and there is no questioning. Is that clear?”

Dot looked a bit taken aback.

“Yes Ma’am.”

“We start here then Dot. I want you to raise your dress so I can see your undies; now!”

Dot looked a little startled, but showed herself game, raising her ample arse and pulling her dress above her waist to show her big knickers. She blushed, even more so when Annie called her a “good girl.”

“Pixieslut, strip and get between those thighs!”

I thought that her eyes were going to pop out of head as they focussed on my small breasts with their hardening nipples. I swear she licked her lips as they came into view as my dress came off; as I removed my lingerie she could not take her eyes off me.

“What do you think, Dot?”

“Really, Ma’am?”

“Yes, really Dot.”

“She’s a bit small Ma’am, and why doesn’t she have hair?”

“Tell her, Pixieslut!”

“Because Mistress Annie shaves me.”

“Pixieslut, don’t you think our guest needs to be treated with respect?”

“Yes, Mistress, sorry Miss Dot.”

It felt so humiliating to call this girl “Miss,” but that, of course, was part of Annie’s genius.

“How does it feel to have a real Lady call you ‘Miss’, Dot?”

“I like it, Ma’am, it makes a nice change.”

“What if I told you that for the next hour, Lady Pixie would do anything you want?”

“That would be nice Ma’am, but I don’t know how to play.”

“Would you like Lady Pixie to show you?”

Dot, blushing, said she would, very much.

“Dot, would you like to see what lesbians do?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” she stammered.

“Pixieslut, help Miss Dot out of her knickers and give her the treatment.”

My eyes seemed to glaze over.

“Please Miss Dot, would you raise your bum so I can take your knickers off?”

Grinning, she lifted her substantial arse, and I slid her decidedly unsexy knickers off. She smelt. Oh my God! I realised that, of course, the lower orders did not bathe often.

Annie looked sternly at me:

“Ask her permission, slut!”

This was beyond embarrassing, but there was nothing for it.

“Please Miss Dot may I lick your pussy?”

Dot looked at Annie.

“Really, is, is this what you do?”

Annie smiled.

“It’s what little sluts do Dot, so what does that make Lady Pixie?”

I felt güvenilir bahis şirketleri like it was too much, I wanted to protest, but there was a problem: my cunt was soaking wet.

“It, it makes her a slut, Ma’am.”

“Well, Dot, sluts do as they are told, so you better tell her what she must do.”

I could sense her excitement, see it in her eyes.

“Slut Pixie, lick my kitty.”

She sat on the end of the bed, legs apart, as I manoeuvred myself between her thighs. Her cunt was so hairy I could hardly see the lips, and as she pushed me into it I could smell her various scents. Part of me wanted to gag, and part of me wanted to submit; I submitted.

She turned out to taste rather yummy when I got through the forest. There was a huge thrill in being the first woman to introduce her to the delights of sapphic sex. As I licked her, Annie was playing with her large tits. As my tongue circled her unhooded clit, she showed her unbridled enthusiasm for my ministrations.

As I licked, I could smell Annie above me, and the little droplets of her nectar on my hair showed how excited she was to be introducing Dot to the delights of sapphic love. I could hear her sucking Dots’s nipples, which made the latter grip my hair and push me into her sopping cunt, rubbing my face raw on her thatch of hair. The twin ministrations pushed Dot over the edge, and she gushed onto me.

As Dot orgasmed, I pulled back slightly and applied my soaked face to the gorgeous cunt above me, catching Annie by surprise. The thick goo which met my lips showed how ready she was to follow suite. Gauging her mood, I thrust two fingers deep into her cunt and licked furiously at her stiff clit.

“Fuck, fuck, Pix, you dirty little girl, ohhhhh fuck!”

The last word merged into a groan as Annie succumbed to the pleasures of the moment and squirted her nectar onto me and onto Dot’s thighs. She collapsed forward onto Dot, and they both fell back on the bed, leaving me kneeling, covered in a mixture of their juices. I knelt in place while they began to kiss.

Annie looked delicious from my angle of view: her arse high, as she kissed Dot and pushed into her cunt. Dot’s legs went round Annie’s hips, lowering them so that their cunts were pressed together. Dot was an enthusiastic learner, and the two of them played with each other, the fire of lust burning in them both.

“Slut, get me my girl cock,” Annie ordered.

I had just been thinking this was ridiculous. There I was, my cunt a gooey mess, my face rubbed red and soaked in their juices, reduced to watching as my girlfriend made love to another woman. For goodness’ sake I paid the woman, she was my social inferior, and yet I was letting her treat me like this! Which is, of course, why I crawled over to where the girl cock was kept, in the bedside cabinet, and, following Annie’s instructions, strapped it onto her.

As I did that, Dot removed her bra, exposing the most enormous tits I’d ever seen.

“Open her for me , slut!”

As Annie adjusted her girl cock, I parted Dot’s swollen lips, and kept them open as Annie pressed the head of the cock into her wetness, at which point I withdrew to watch them fuck.

Annie’s arse, tensing as she thrust into Dot’s cunt, made me want to lick it, so I did so. She thrust it back in my face every time she pulled out of Dot. As the cock pushed up against Annie’s clit, it was not long before she began to moan again, and suddenly, my tongue licking her arsehole, she came again, this time a short, sharp and intense orgasm which left her shaking, still embedded in Dot.

“Ma’am, that was so good,” Dot gasped.

“Finish her off slut,” Annie told me.

As Annie pulled out and rolled over, I applied my mouth to her open cunt, then, thrusting two fingers in began licking her clit. As I sucked it, Dot, too came, adding to the dried stickiness covering my face.

“Well, Dot,” Annie said, “do you think you would like this position?”

Dot and Annie giggled.

“Oh yes, Ma’am, as long as I can have slut Pixie between my legs.”

“That,” said Annie, “can be part of the deal.”

“Ma’am,” Dot asked, “does the slut get to have an orgasm?”

“That,” said Annie, “is your view, do you think she deserves one, or should our aristocratic little slut be made to wait?”

To my dismay, Dot replied:

“She can wait, come here Ma’am, I want to taste you.”

And so it was that our newest member of staff was recruited.

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