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Caworth

Chapter 2 Meeting Lord Dickwood

Chapter 2. Meeting Lord Dickwood

"This way please Miss Cecilia," the man indicated to Betty and then to Blanche, "And you too M'lady. We mustn't keep his lordship waiting."

"Who are you?" Blanche tried to sound firm but her voice cracked.

"Craven, M'lady. Head butler. Now please do hurry. You have to get ready for the party and some of the guests are already here."

"Party? And why do you keep calling me M'lady?" Blanche queried as she to slid out of the sleeping bag. Betty was still trying to find a way of opening the door.

"The party to celebrate the second year of your marriage to his lordship, Lady Dickwood. This way please." Craven led her to the opposite end of the room from the door. Puzzled at the strange happening, Blanche felt compelled to follow and Betty, not wishing to be left on her own ran and clasped her friend's hand.

"Please be careful ladies, these steps are a little steep." At the end of the room a floor slab had been lifted to reveal a set of stone steps that led downward. Craven went first and waited at the bottom holding the lantern high to illuminate the stairs for them.

"I'm glad I've still got my walking socks on," Blanche muttered, "These stone flags are cold enough through the wool." Betty gripped her hand tighter and Blanche could tell she was shaking with fear. Although also somewhat afraid, Blanche took it more as a dream adventure into something that might turn out to be very exciting. From the bottom of the stairway they were taken along a low, damp tunnel for about fifty yards to another set of stairs that went upwards. From the direction and distance Blanche guessed they should come up in one of the grassed areas that once were the inside of the Manor. Craven went up the stairs without stopping. The ladies followed not wishing to be left behind in the dark.

To her surprise, they emerged in what was obviously the cellar of the house. "This must be under the grass," Blanche said to herself, but then realised there were other people around and the cellar was lit by many candles. Maids and boys moved purposefully around collecting vegetables and wines. Craven and the two women followed a pair of maids up a larger staircase and came out in the kitchen. After the coldness of the tomb, the heat was comforting but made them a little drowsy.

"Good evening M'lady and Miss Cecilia," a round faced woman addressed them, "Nice to have you here." Turning to Craven she went on, "You found them then?"

"Yes, Cook, lying on top of their tomb as we expected."

"Good. We can go ahead with the party now as planned. I'll get Mrs. Crabshaw to tell a couple of the maids to take them to their rooms and help them dress for the party."

"What are we doing here please?" Betty asked timidly. "Where are we?"

"In the kitchen at Caworth Manor. Where else are you likely to be?" There was a hint of scorn in the woman's voice, "And you're here to celebrate the master's second year of marriage. How could you forget such a thing? The master would soon impress that on you even if you are M'lady's sister."

In the few minutes they waited, Blanche and Betty looked around the kitchen and noticed all the men and women were working hard to prepare a meal on the huge black stove and on the open hearth. "They even have electricity here, Betty," Blanche whispered noting the odd pointed shape of the bulbs and the flickering light. "If this really is 1928, this must be one of the first houses to have electricity in the area. Must have their own generator somewhere." Although her mind couldn't really believe she was in a room that only existed until seventy-five years previously, she wanted to observe as much as she could. Perhaps it was a dream but if it was then it was very real. She could feel the heat, smell the cooking, and respond to those who brushed passed her in the course of their work. But if it wasn't a dream, then what was it? In couldn't be real, could it?

A thin, sharp-nosed woman entered the kitchen followed by two scantily clad young girls. "Good evening M'lady and Miss Cecilia. I'm Mrs. Crabshaw head of household and this is Joanna and Emily," she announced, "They will take you to your rooms and help you dress. You have a little over an hour before you must be in the dining room." Dress? Both ladies looked at each other. Betty had to smile. Here they were in a grand house, wearing woolly socks, long johns, sweaters and a woolly hat. Just as they had been when they scrambled from their sleeping bags. In the situation they now found themselves where everyone wore some kind of uniform, they looked very incongruous. Blanche thrust it from her mind and all the staff seemed to be taking no notice either.

"Thank you Mrs. Crabshaw," Blanche answered, trying to get into the part she still believed was a dream.

"This way if you please ma'am," Joanna, the older of the two maids spoke, "His Lordship wishes to speak with you first. He's in the games room." The girls led them up a wide ornate staircase and into a large room. A few well-dressed men stood around smoking pipes but all eyes were focused on one of the maids bent over the back of a chair and the tall, distinguished looking man applying a strap to her bare buttocks. Joanna and Emily stopped a few feet away and curtsied.

Lord Dickwood looked up and paused and placed the strap down over the back of the maid. "Stay there, I haven't finished with you girl." Blanche and Betty were horrified at the sight but also felt a stirring between their legs at the sight of the young girl's well-displayed cunt. There was little time for them to think or protest. His lordship put his arms around Blanche and gave her a hug and a passionate kiss, "May my dear, so glad you were able to come. It's been a long while."

Betty had the same treatment, which caused her some concern. "If Blanche is his wife, should he kiss me quite like that? Maybe he was a debauched as the stories say."

"If you'll excuse me for a few moments ladies, I'll finish warming this young girl's arse and then we'll go to your room and while you change from that amusing costume, I will explain what will happen at the party."

"Why are you…?" Blanche started.

"Oh Darcy complained she didn't perform very well and just lay still when he took his prick to her. I've only given her a few strokes so far so you can watch while I put some real fire into her cunt, unless you would prefer to do it." Blanche shook her head. To her it looked as if the sobbing girl had already got a fiery bum but she decided if it was a dream she shouldn't say anything. Tears were rolling down Betty's cheeks but she too kept quiet.

After another dozen strokes the girl was crying loudly and pleading she would perform better next time. Her arse was now a livid colour. Lord Dickwood put the strap down and the maid started to stand and rub her painful bottom cheeks but she was ordered to stay in position. "We'll see if you really mean what you say Henrietta. We'll see if you perform better next time." He looked around the room. "Boy, come here," he ordered one of the footman standing at the side of the room, "You look as though you are aroused by the sight, drop your breeches and fuck this miserable bitch and do it hard so we see if she is going to perform better."

"Sir, I don't think we should watch this," pleaded Blanche. It was the first time for many years that she had seen a man's erection and she knew her companion hadn't either.

"You will watch and take note," he replied brusquely, "You will certainly need to make sure you perform well later May, otherwise your arse will be just as sore and seeing you're my wife, it will be the birch that you feel! That goes for you too, Cecilia." Blanche turned away but was soon grabbed from behind and held so she had to watch. "Joanna, you hold Cecilia," he ordered and then commanded the boy to fuck with more force.

At first Blanche was only held around the waist but soon she felt one hand forcing its way inside her long johns and knickers while the other headed upwards until it found her left breast. "Please don't." she pleaded. Her eyes looked around the room and noticed all the men were looking leeringly at her.

"May, you may only be playing the part of my wife but you will play it realistically. By the end of the evening you will think this very mild. May loved pricks in all her holes and by the time the party is over, you and Cecilia will have had them well filled too, even if you need many strokes of the birch first. Our guests will love that. You can see how this little strapping has aroused them. It will delight them further to see a Lady suffer under the bite of the birch."

With tears in her eyes Blanche watched the young boy rape the maid and when he didn't thrust deeply or hard enough into her, Emily was instructed to lash his arse with the strap. Joanna firmly holding Betty, had her hands inside her captive victim's clothing and was feeling her in the same way as his Lordship. Finally the boy shot his semen into the maid and withdrew. "You can stand now Henrietta. You know what you have to do." Again the lord's voice was cold and brutal. Henrietta fell to her knees and a rehearsed speech, thanked him for kindly correcting her and then took the boy's prick in her mouth and sucked it clean. Both Blanche and her friend found this utterly disgusting. Neither had sucked a man before although they were very familiar with women's juices. "Don't even think about refusing," the lord hissed in her ear, "You'll be forced to one way or another. Refusal will only mean more pain."

"Please let us go Sir, please. We didn't mean any harm by sleeping on your tomb."

"No May, maybe you didn't but we are glad you did. And seeing you are my wife and we will be intimately connected, you and your sister are allowed to call me Richard. Only the servants and lower order guests use my title. Now go to the bedroom and change out of those grotesque rags into your party clothes. I'll be along shortly for a little preview of what is underneath." Turning to the maids he went on, "Joanna, prepare them but don't put their dresses on until I have examined the pair of them."


Review This Story || Author: obohobo
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