Master and Servant (Lust and Lace) Read online

  ~ Master and Servant ~

  A Victorian Romance and Erotic Short Story

  by Lady T. L. Jennings

  Velvet curtains hung from the antique four-poster mahogany bed. In his dream, hands travelled along his chest, teasing and caressing his shivering flesh. He lay on his back, naked, vulnerable and completely erect as the hands continued their voyage down toward his stomach, and he moaned with expectation.

  “Do you want me to continue?” a husky voice mumbled in his ear as the fingers journeyed along the inside of his thighs. But something was wrong, he realized in the fog of pleasure as the delicate fingers started to stroke the full hard length of the most sensitive region of his body.

  The voice was… male.

  *

  His eyes flew open.

  James lay, entangled by a wrinkled mess of blankets and sheets, in his own bed. He was alone, he realized with a mixed sense of relief and, before he could stop himself, disappointment. And, while being sweaty and still hard from the dream, he was still dressed in a proper nightshirt. He fell back into the pillows and sighed.

  Dawn was creeping through the window, painting the room in the weak sepia of day. His thoughts lingered at the memory of the dream, remembering perhaps more than he would like to admit. For a short second he thought about giving in, finding his own release, but he denied himself. He did not think it would be wise to encourage these wicked, involuntary dreams.

  A cold shower, a walk, and perhaps an early riding tour will be the best cure, he thought guiltily as he splashed water on his face and looked himself in the mirror, getting ready to shave. He was nine-and-twenty now, with small lines on his forehead, but no laugh lines.

  I look older, or perhaps it is just the restless sleep that makes me look more tired and paler than usual, James speculated as he reached for the shaving kit.

  He quickly left the large mansion for his morning walk. The mist was still dancing on the fields and the birds had just started their morning serenade to celebrate another beautiful spring day on the countryside. He walked briskly, stretching his long legs and letting his mind stray. As always, his thoughts took the well-travelled road of depression, this time choosing economy as the main headline of his thoughts.

  His heritage, the huge neglected Kent mansion, was bleeding money, but leaving it–selling it–was not an option. He survived on small-scale horse and dog breeding business and occasionally selling some of the estate’s antique furniture or paintings. He only had one servant now, since George, a true butler who had worked for him and his father (bless him), had retired. James was not entirely sure if he really appreciated his replacement.

  The new servant, Victor was his name, had arrived a month ago and was a relative to George.

  He lacks all the familiar elegance that George had. Still, he is young and strong and more suitable for the hard work of taking care of the horses, James thought as he approached the stable and the end of his walk.

  As he got closer, he heard someone whistling. James did not recognize the melody, but it sounded like a merry folksong of some kind. He hesitated and then continued forward, slower and more quietly, not wanting to disturb the working servant who obviously believed himself to be alone.

  The servant, grooming a horse, was standing with his back toward James. He had taken his shirt off and placed it on the nearby fence. James froze, unable to look away from the servant’s undressed back. He felt an odd surge through his body. The servant had tanned broad shoulders with a thin film of sweat that covered his working muscles as he groomed the black horse at a steady pace. He was still whistling, unaware of James, but the horse, a full-blooded stallion with a nervous temper, noticed James and tossed its head, which made the servant to turn around.

  “Oh. I beg your pardon, did I interrupt you?” said James with a nervous laugh.

  “No, sir, not at all. Beautiful morning, is it not?” Victor replied friendlily. He was in his early twenties, with blond, slightly untidy hair and dark green sparkling eyes.

  His lady friends probably describe him as very handsome, James pondered.

  “I took Ebony for a short exercise trip down the lake, but I can make him ready, should you prefer to ride out,” the servant added, continuing with the grooming. His chest and abdomen looked as if they were sculptured from dark granite and he wore some kind of leather necklace.

  “Yes! I-I think I would like that,” James said rapidly. “I will wait by the courtyard, then,” he added abruptly and walked away briskly.

  He waited impatiently until Victor brought Ebony, now bridled and saddled. Victor had put on his shirt again, James noticed, confused by his own disappointment.

  Their hands did not touch as Victor gave the reins to James, but the difference between their hands, so close together, was striking. James’s long, slender and pale fingers beside Victor’s larger hand, covered with calluses and small blond hairs on the knuckles.

  “When do you want the carriage to be ready, sir?” asked Victor.

  “Pardon?”

  “The carriage? You do plan to attend Lord and Lady Hastings’ event tonight, do you not?” said Victor.

  “Oh. Yes. But of course. Around eight would be appropriate, I guess,” James said, his tone revealing his complete lack of interest in the Hastings’ spring ball.

  “I will have it ready for you. Should I come to your room after dinner and help you prepare then?” Victor asked.

  “Yes… After dinnertime will be suitable. Please brush the dark blue coat and iron a suitable shirt,” James said with a perhaps somewhat strangled voice.

  “Have a nice ride, sir,” said Victor as James sat up and took the reins.

  “Thank you,” James answered shortly and urged the horse into a brisk trot.

  What is wrong with me? James thought as he rode away. First the odd dream and now this. His imagination was playing tricks with his mind and making his behaviour erratic. He did not understand himself.

  Victor stood by the courtyard and saw James ride away. He allowed himself a small sigh before he went back to work and daydreaming.

  *

  Later James paced his room back and forth nervously. Dusk had come, and he had lit candles and an oil lamp on the table close to the bed. The high mansion windows were ajar and the wind played slowly with the long curtains. He was wearing dark grey breeches and a linen shirt. His formal evening garments were in the care of the servant.

  Finally Victor arrived, carrying the evening’s clothes and shoes.

  “Ah, there you are,” James said when Victor carefully closed the door behind him.

  “Sir,” mumbled Victor as he laid out the clothes on the sitting table and put the polished shoes on the floor.

  “Eh, sir,” Victor asked as James made no sign of moving and seemed temporarily lost in thoughts. “Do you mind taking that shirt off, sir, so you can put on the ironed one?”

  “Yes, of course!” James said, a little forced. He removed his shirt and stood bare-chested in the candlelight.

  He is so pale and slim. Almost like a marble statue, Victor thought, fussing with the shirt by the table. He removed the white starched linen shirt from the rest of the clothes and carefully let it slip on James, making sure that it did not get wrinkled in the process. They stood opposite of each other as Victor slowly buttoned all the buttons all the way up. Victor dressed James in the cream-coloured breeches next and donned the white stockings. He then went back to the table to get the muslin cravat. His fingers brushed James’s throat as he tied it gently.

  “Shoes next, sir,” Victor said, wondering a little over his master’s silence. Was he unsatisfied with the ironing? Had he done something wrong?

>   Victor collected the black shoes with silver buckles and went down on his knees in front of James. He smoothly slipped on one shoe, his hands resting a second on James’s ankle before donning the other shoe, and then stood up. He was slightly shorter than James, he realized as he stole a glance of his master. He went back to the table, gathered a waistcoat this time, and unhurriedly put it on, his fingers just touching James’s shoulders and waist as he corrected the fit.

  “Just the coat left,” Victor said to himself, slowly sliding it on and, for extra precaution, made sure that no dust had settled on the dark blue fabric. He gently turned James around toward the large mirror by the window.

  “You look extraordinary,” he said as he stood beside James. Then Victor silently cursed himself; servants were not meant to talk this much.

  James looked at himself in the mirror. He looked pale and strained, like a porcelain doll beside a living person. The contrast between them was stunning. Victor in his natural beauty and healthy colour; himself a pale shadow, slender and thin, dressed in the latest fashion.

  Letting someone dress him and being so close to another person was uncommon for James. The old butler had never dressed him for any occasion, just silently delivered the perfectly ironed clothes. But this, this was something else. It felt as if his skin was tingling where Victor accidentally had touched him.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” Victor asked. He noticed that James’s eyes had the strangest expression and that his master’s breathing was just a little bit short. He innocently continued to search for imaginary dust particles, tempting fate and perhaps himself.

  “Anything else, sir?” he said and just slightly leaned closer, while his mind was rebelling against his behaviour. What was he doing? Was he insane? He would lose his employment! Ah, but he had not done anything wrong. Not yet.

  “Anything, sir… What do you want me to do?”

  “Seduce me,” James whispered back, breathlessly.

  “As you wish, Master,” Victor said softly, as he gave free rein to his yearning and kissed him lightly.

  The kiss started gently, lips touching wet lips in short breaths, but as hands explored flesh, the kiss grew deeper and tongues met. They kissed again and half wrestled toward the old four-poster bed, ripping the bed curtains aside. A formerly perfectly-ironed linen shirt landed on the floor, soon followed by a servant’s simple brown shirt.

  For James, this was a vivid dream; he refused to acknowledge reality and without any remorse lost himself in his most secret of guilty pleasures. His body taught him everything he needed to know and it guided him easily. He wanted to kiss and be kissed. It was so easy to give in, especially since he noticed that Victor was responding with a physical need as strong as his own was. The sound of Victor moaning as they kissed made James bold, and he could not resist the temptation to move closer as they lay on the bed. He felt their bodies connect and his own hardness touch Victor’s, with just a couple of thin layers of clothes between them. Victor pushed his hips closer and tanned hands gently glided down toward his belt.

  “Lie still and close your eyes…” Victor mumbled as his hands removed the tailored breeches and the rest of his clothes.

  James closed his eyes, blocking out the candlelight. All he heard was his own uneven breathing. His heart raced and he sighed with eager anticipation as more experienced fingers moved along the inside of his legs and ran over his hardness. He felt Victor move and suddenly, as fingers gripped him, he felt an unexpected wetness covering him. In his surprise he looked down, meeting mischievous eyes, but the enormous sensation of this new kind of kiss made him close his eyes again. He resisted pushing his hips forward and tried to lie still.

  Victor’s inquisitive fingers slipped back and forward; they held him in a firm grip, teasing him in conspiracy with wet lips. It was completely and utterly irresistible, and as James tentatively moved his hips forward, he was rewarded with a new wave of satisfaction. Victor’s fingers continued their adventure and stroked his full length up and down harder and more rapidly. James kept up with this new pace, knowing that this kind of pleasure was both forbidden and wrong. Just the thought that “it was forbidden” made him realize that he had already lost: his desire had the upper hand and he would come during this unchristian and prohibited act, and he could not care less. But he wanted the most of it.

  It took two tries before James managed to say the words. “Wait,” he said with a hoarse voice.

  Victor looked up curiously, his lips and fingers still surrounding James.

  James moved so that he stood up on his knees in the bed, naked and with glistering erection.

  “Like this?” he suggested, blushing with both timidity and lust.

  Victor smiled and kneeled before him, his hands finding their place again, and his tongue licked the very top of him, slowly, oh so slowly.

  “Tell me…” Victor said roguishly. When James gasped, he continued to lick at a deliberately slow pace. “…when you want me to make you come,” he added teasingly.

  James did not hesitate. He burrowed his hands in the blond hair and slightly forced Victor to increase the speed.

  “Now. Please! God, now!” he cried out as he pushed himself forward. His quickened pace was met, and the wet pressure around him increased as fingers surround him. James tried to pull back but Victor would not let him, so James came inevitably and deeply with a suppressed cry of satisfaction. He tumbled back among the pillows, panting and staring with unseeing eyes.

  “Did you like it?” Victor asked, a little smug.

  “Yes, very much…thank you,” James gasped, cuddling closer so that his head rested on Victor’s chest. “What is this?” he added, feeling suddenly shy, playing with an odd-looking stone placed in a leather cord around Victor’s neck.

  “Mmm… It is a lucky charm,” Victor said, moving his firm body closer to James. “I bought it from some gypsies at a market before I moved here.”

  “Is it working?” James asked curiously.

  “Well, yes. I think so,” Victor answered, a little breathless. “Maybe it grants wishes as well,” he added, gently guiding James’s hands…

  ***

  ~ THE END ~

  Did you enjoy this short story and would like to read more?

  ~ Blackmail ~

  - a Gay Victorian Romance and Erotic Novella.

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  The third novelette from "Different Desire",

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  ~ Corsets and Cravings ~

  - a Victorian Romance and Erotic short story collection. Vol. II.

  ~ Lust and Lace ~

  - a Victorian Romance and Erotic short story collection. Vol. I.

  ~ Secrets and Seduction ~

  - a Victorian Romance and Erotic short story collection. Vol. III.

  (Coming in December, 2012)

  ~ About the author ~

  Lady T. L. Jennings writes all her stories by hand into classic journals. (The picture was taken in Bath, where Jane Austen lived between 1801-1806.)

  Lady T. L. Jennings is a shy writer who loves the Victorian era and afternoon tea. She lives on the outskirts of Oxford in England, and writes Victorian erotica and romance with a dash of gothic mystique in longhand with a fountain pen. She collects books, corsets, and lovers (all with varying levels of success).

  Visit her website: www.mysecretquill.com or follow her on Facebook or Twitter for the latest news regarding writing and free stories.

  Would you like to support the Author and her work?

  Please write a review on Amazon or Goodreads!

  ~ About this story ~


  “Master and Servant” was the first Victorian gay story I have written (but not the last) and it was inspired by other Victorian and Regency literature from the 19th century which focused on love stories crossing social boundaries, like for example in “Emma” by Jane Austen and “Jane Eyre” by Charlotte Brontë.

  I did some basic research around the role of servants (especially valets and butlers), Victorian fashion, and the common superstition regarding Romani people at the time. (And I will leave it entirely upon the reader to decide whether or not the charm which Victor had bought did or did not grant wishes).

  I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I liked writing it!

  ***

  All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reused. This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s peculiar imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be regarded or constructed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons (living, dead, or undead), actual events, locales, organisations, or groups is wholly coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Copyright © 2011 Lady T. L. Jennings

 

 

  Lady T L Jennings, Master and Servant (Lust and Lace)

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