She knew the lady who owned them was of great refinement and good breeding. It explained why some of the larger baubles had sat here in this case for so long, unworn, despite their value. They were the kind of jewels understated nobility didn’t wear, but passed down.
Would one be missed? Her slim fingers reached out to graze the surfaces of a ring worth more than a simple maid would ever make in a lifetime. How many times a day did her ladyship’s eyes pass over it to select something more acceptable for daily wear, even for a ball? Would taking one really be so wrong?
Her hand trembled as she picked up the sapphire ring. It was in want of a polish, but large. And wedged as it was in the blue velvet of the jewelry case, its absence would surely go undetected.
She slipped it on. Ironically, it was a perfect fit, the elaborate setting spanning the width of her finger. She removed the ring and dropped it into her pocket, her heart quickening now by what she’d done. Carefully she closed the case and smoothed her crisp white linen apron before turning.
A hand immediately covered her mouth, stifling a cry she was too shocked to emit. He was not gentle as he pulled her to him, his breath hot as he hissed into her ear.
“Thief! I was right to follow you in here.”
“P-please, Mr. Dobbs!” She began to struggle, whimpering as his hand moved to her pocket to extract the ring. He held it before her face, a symbol now of broken trust and unfathomable consequences.
“Was it worth it?” he asked. “Was it worth it for what’s going to happen to you now?”
“Oh, Mr. Dobbs. I shouldn’t have.” Her voice was shaking. Her body was shaking. He turned her to face him.
“What else have you stolen, Aster?” His voice was low but demanding. As his lordship’s valet, Henry Dobbs—while not long in service at Darmley Hall—had already acquired a reputation for impeccable loyalty and service. He was more than a trusted servant; in many ways he was the eyes and ears of the huge manor house. Even something so simple as servants talking between rooms could earn an upbraiding if Dobbs made mention to Mr. Holloway, head of household staff.
“I’ve not stolen anything else. I swear.” Aster felt her legs go weak, and she would have collapsed if he’d not had such a grip. Dobbs pulled her upright, but even at her full height, she only came up to his chest. Too afraid to raise her eyes, she stared at the polished buttons of his vest.
“Look at me.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, summoning the courage. His brown eyes burned into her grey ones without an ounce of compassion. A cold smile played on his full lips. Aster knew she was helpless.
“I don’t believe you,” he said. “All those jewels. I need to check.”
“Oh, now. You don’t have to!” But he was pulling her to the bed now, and pushing her back—onto her ladyship’s very down comforter!—with his hands pushing beneath her skirts and skimming the rough stockings until he found her thighs.
“You females have all sorts of secret hiding places,” he said, and now his fingers were between her legs. Aster gasped against the invasion then closed her eyes in humiliation when he laughed.
“No chance of you hiding anything in here. It would just slide out, what with your being so slick.” He regarded her with a cool smirk. “A thief and a whore.”
“I’m neither,” she said, shame and indignation in her voice. “I’m just a simple hard-working woman. Is it so wrong to want what you can’t have, Mr. Dobbs?”
“I seldom find myself in that situation, my dear,” he said, pumping his fingers into her pussy. Her hips were following them, wantonly, and against her will. “That’s the benefit of being resourceful. You always get what you want. You just do it in a way that ensures discretion.” She moaned as he removed his fingers and shoved them in her mouth. “Now shut up,” he said, and she fell silent, afraid to do anything other than stare at him wide-eyed and trembling as her own musk coated her tongue.
“Taste that?” he asked. “That’s the flavor of a bad girl. You like it?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Yes? Well, so do I. In fact, I’m going to have a little taste myself. And if you even think of making a peep, or coming, I’m going to haul you straightaway to Mr. Holloway.”
He slid down her body, his large hands grasping her hips as he ran his tongue up the slit of her pussy. His mouth captured her throbbing clit, suckling on it until she saw starbursts of pleasure pain. Aster could feel her orgasm building, but she knew better than to disobey the valet as he feasted on her pussy. She dug her neatly trimmed nails into her palm and bit her lip until she tasted blood to keep the feelings overwhelming her at bay. Tears coursed down her cheeks from the efforts of self-denial, and when he’d had his way with her, he slid back up her body. His leering, handsome face was slick with her juices, but not a strand of his ebony hair was out of place.
“Bad girls don’t get to come,” he said, training a finger down her jawline. She turned toward his hand, wanting to kiss it, to show her submission. But he was having none of it.
“On your knees, girl,” he said, and Aster found herself on all fours on the bed, her maid’s skirt thrown up over her back. She could only imagine the picture she presented—white bottom, her hairless cunt split like a pale peach, her trembling thighs slick with her excitement.
Dobbs reached out and grabbed a fistful of her thick chestnut hair, pulling her back until she was forced to look up at him.
“I could have you turned out without a reference,” he said. “Or worse. But because I am merciful, I’m going to punish you myself. That’s fair, hmmm?”
“Oh, don’t. Please don’t…” Aster pleaded with her eyes. “I’ll never steal again, Mr. Dobbs. I won’t even look at milady’s jewels.”
“Oh, I’m afraid it’s gone too far for that now,” he said, and walked over to where her ladyship’s riding habit hung from the edge. Across the bench lay her riding whip, which Dobbs now picked up.
“Mercy, Mr. Dobbs,” she cried. “You can’t beat me with that. I’ll not sit for a week.”
“A week? You know little of me if you think I’m to be that lenient.” The handsome valet swished the riding crop through the air, and then drew back his arm. “You’ll not make a peep.”
Aster looked back at him in disbelief. How could he possibly expect her to…
“Aiiyyyeee!” she screamed, unable to control herself when the crop laid its first blazing line of agony across the fullness of her bottom, but she’d screamed into the bedclothes, at least, so he did not scold. Dobbs did, however, order her back into position and the next blow fell on the tender crease of skin where buttocks met thighs.
“Will we be going through her ladyship’s things again?”
“Oh, no… oh, for the love of God, no.” Tears coursed down her face, dripping from her running nose onto the expensive coverlet. She rocked back and forth, murmuring incoherent pleas as the crop fell again. And again. And again.
There were ten strokes altogether, leaving ten puffy welts that throbbed with their own individual hurt.
“One thing left to do now,” Dobbs said, and he stepped back, opening the front of his tailored black pants to withdraw his thick, veiny cock. The valet began to pull on the length of it as he moved forward to position himself behind Aster. “It’s been my experience that only through complete submission can an immoral woman become properly obedient. And you do want to be obedient, don’t you?”
“Oh, yes…”Aster moaned, looking back, her eyes brimming with both trepidation and excitement as she noted the girth of the thing springing from a bed of dark curls, the purple head already dripping with pre-cum.
There was no preamble as he shoved it into her. Again she screamed into the pillow, trying to keep herself in position as Dobbs fucked her almost savagely, his pelvis slamming again and again into her sore ass, his thrusts so vigorous that she could feel his ball sack slapping the front of her pubis.
She could feel her orgasm building.
“Please! Please…” she cried.
“Please, what, you thieving little strumpet?” He put his hand beneath her to pinch her clit. “Please what?”
“Please let me come! Oh, please, Mr. Dobbs! I’ll be a good girl! I promise I will!”
“No more sticky fingers?” he asked.
“No… no… I promise! I promise, Mr. Dobbs.”
“Then I’ll allow it. Come, you little baggage. Come on my cock… now!”
It was all Aster needed. Her pussy began to convulse, gripping and milking the valet’s cock even as he pumped her, his hands squeezing her tender ass as he ejected his seed deep inside her pussy.
Aster collapsed her chest onto the bed, feeling the welts on her bottom and her sore pussy throbbing in time with her heartbeat. The valet continued to grip her until a moment later when his cock slipped free of her sopping warmth.
She stood, her legs shaky. She could hear him behind her, pouring water into the bowl on the washstand. A moment later, he was at her side.
“Shall I help clean you, milady?” His tone was now all formal cordiality as he held out a piece of clean linen.
“No, Dobbs. Thank you.” Lady Aster Darmley took the cloth, and Dobbs turned away as she wiped the combination of his spunk and her juices from her pussy and thighs. Nearby, the valet had settled into a chair. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. She could feel the intense brown eyes on her, watching as she removed the maid’s uniform and replaced it with a nightgown. The satin slid over her lush form with a hiss. Lady Aster raised her arms and, removing the half-cocked maid’s cap, unpinned what remained of her bun to allow her chestnut hair to fall down her back.
“The hunt is coming up soon.” She walked over and took a cigarette from the case the valet laid on the table. Settling herself in the chair across from him, she wondered how he was able to look so impeccably put together after fucking her into a state of such dishevelment. “I suppose Lord Darmley will have you passing out the port.”
“Of course,” he said. “You’re riding, I presume,” he said, glancing toward the habit.
“I was,” she said, and winced as she shifted in her chair. “Now with my bottom… Was it necessary to be so hard on me, knowing how much it will hurt me to sit in the saddle?”
Dobbs leaned forward, and the look he gave her made her pussy clench. His words made it clench even harder. “Why do you think I did it? I want your mind to be on me, on my control of you, every moment of every second we are not together, milady. Even as you’re sitting in elegant form atop your favorite hunter, looking down through your veil at your admirers, I want you to feel the burn of the stripes on your bottom and know that come tomorrow you will be whatever I command you to be, whether it’s a thieving maid, or my little girl, or yourself as you are, a highborn lady on your knees sucking my cock because it’s what I desire.”
He stood and walked over to her. She drew nervously on her cigarette. How did he manage to ruffle her so? How was it that his dominance so effortlessly turned the tables, making him the master and her the servant?
“You are mine, and always will be,” he said silkily. “Do you understand?”
Lady Darmley felt her lips twitch with a smile of relief and gratitude at his reassurance.
“Oh,” she said. “Would that it could be so.”