LORD BRAMBLE'S REHABILITATION (2 page)

"I will meet with each of you individually during the rest of the day. Bring your accounts and ledgers and be prepared to discuss what you are about and what difficulties you are currently engaged upon, and what you envisage occurring over the next three months. I will see those in command of the house first, then those in command of the estate," he told them.

The nurse moved forward to take Lord Bramble away and John stopped her.

"He needs his afternoon nap," the woman complained angrily.

"He needs to listen to these meetings and voice his concerns," John told her.

"His nap time is also my break," she complained.

"Then you can go. My nurse can look after him as easily as can me," he told her.

He turned to Debora when she had left and grunted in dislike. "Can you ask O'Connor to provide us with another nurse?" he begged. "Someone with more relevant skills in bringing him back to alertness?" he asked.

Debora smiled and nodded and strode out to find the telephone she had noticed in passing. Doctor O'Connor would know the right nurse, she was sure of it.

Back in the Library, the butler and housekeeper stepped in, the ledgers in their hands. Slowly, over the course of the hour's meeting, their reservation was drawn from them as they discussed problems with the plumbing and leaks in the roof, and their main difficulty; Miss Isabel.

Isabel Bramble paced her spacious room, arms crossed beneath a bust left to move tightly on her chest by the silk teddy she wore beneath her fashionable dress. She was angry, furious in fact, her dreams of having the freedom to act on her own wishes having come to a stop, all because of this unknown man who had stepped into their lives.

And who was he, anyway? she wondered, pacing the room as angrily as ever. Some soldier her father had met years before, who had never visited the house, whom she had never met, never been introduced to. And he looked frail enough to be blown over in a strong wind. Then there was his companion; who was she and what was her role? They weren't married; neither wore a wedding ring. Surely her father wouldn't allow them to share the same bedroom.

Isabel stopped her pacing, her anger evaporating at the thought of an unmarried couple sleeping within the hallowed rooms of the manor. Exciting as it might be to one part of her, the very thought of it becoming public knowledge filled her with dread. She would never be able to show her face in society again!

She paced once more, now in consideration. She had no family to turn to, but there was always Sir Oswald, her father's staunch ally and good friend, a regular guest at the manor. Perhaps if she penned a discrete letter to him to let him know what was going on, perhaps hinting her father may have lost some of his senses during the stroke. He may get her better terms. Certainly nothing so bad as that which she faced currently.

She sat at her dressing table and pulled a sheet of paper from the drawer. She would have to be lurid, but not too lurid. Perhaps a comment on how the young woman looked at him, clearly besotted by his wiles.

She wrote quickly, one thought cascading to another and another. Stealthy kisses leading to embraces and then more. Activities reserved for married couples being played out in their best guest rooms. Her cheeks burnt with some of her thoughts and towards the end of the letter she pulled the push button that had replaced the old bell-pull, her heart racing with the indecent activity she could imagine occurring whenever the two were alone together, every opportunity, every location in the large and old house taken to consume their base passions.

Lilly came in and curtsied, her cap a little askew, her uniform a little creased.

"What took you so long? Where have you been?" she asked, irritated by the delay in her maid's appearance.

The meeting with Mr Wells. It's put everything askew Miss, honest it has," Lilly told her, her face pale but with a ghost of colour still in her cheeks.

"You're lying," Isabel told her, and placed the letter into an envelope while the girl squirmed. "You've been dallying with the stable-hand again, haven't you Lilly?" she said, scrawling Sir Oswald's name on the envelope. It wouldn't need an address for it to reach him. All the messengers knew how to reach Sir Oswald, whether he was in his London or his country residences.

"We weren't doing nothing Miss," Lilly complained.

"Yes you were. You were doing something I expressly told you not to do; talk to him. Now take off that uniform and get ready for your punishment!" she spat, opening the large bottom drawer to survey the stack of implements she had gathered since her father had finally allowed her to chastise her maids when she felt it necessary.

He probably wasn't aware of the leather implements. He probably still thought she used her hand or her slipper, implements that would hardly cause a tear to be shed, especially from the likes of Lilly, a girl who had spent several years at various houses before coming to theirs.

Isabel chose the belt, a nice broad piece of leather thin enough to be light and flexible, something her slender arm could wield time and time again without getting too tired, or ache in the arm afterward, but heavy enough for these stubborn girls to feel it. She turned and surveyed the disrobing maid.

Isabel, contrary to all appearances, liked Lilly. The girl was good enough at her job to want to keep her, and yet rebellious enough to have to punish her on a regular basis. She had the right type of body for punishment too, not too thin and bony, and yet not too pudgy either. She had breasts that rolled on her chest when she jerked and a proudly plump bottom that took the leather implements well, colouring nicely and fading after just a day or two, depending on how many Isabel had been inclined to award her.

Lilly finished stepping from the pool of her uniform to step in front of her mistress, knowing the woman would want to look at her. The maid was never certain what these inspections were meant to discover. She was careful enough to ensure her lovers never left marks on her body and her puss was as clever as she in keeping its confidences and not allow a prying eye to see too much of it. A thick crop of curls attempted to obscure what the closely knit lips could not.

Isabel nodded. "A dozen I think this time," she considered, getting to her feet and swinging the belt, just to feel the exhilaration the move brought to her.

"A dozen!" Lilly gasped, her mouth falling open. The girl had yet to learn that the number of strikes had nothing to do with the seriousness of her offence, but everything to do with the mood her mistress was in, and at that moment, Isabel was in the mood to seriously punish someone.

"Bend," Isabel ordered, taking up her station to one side of the slightly shorter maid. She waited, anticipation making her buzz within, and watched the girl bent slowly forward, thrusting her bottom out by dipping her back and licking her lips as she let her breasts hand from her chest, swaying slightly with the flexing of her feet.

"Please Miss. I'll be good," Lilly begged, and winced as the first sweep of the belt landed sharply against her taut buttocks, igniting the tingling and burning of her skin.

"Quiet!" Isabel cried, disliking it when a maid offered to do other things too quickly. They weren't meant to be so willing. The act was supposed to be a trial, a thing only done when no alternative was left, not something so rapidly and easily acceded to.

She swung the belt round again and thrilled when it make Lilly cry out.

Miss!" the girl sobbed.

Isabel ignored her, laying another on top of the previous two and watching Lilly's breasts swing as the stroke made the girl rock on her toes, hands on her knees clenching as the heat rushed forward, invading her.

"What did you do? Stroke him?" Isabel asked, swinging the belt round and watching it impact with the maid's offered bottom, grinning as the girl swept her head back to squeal with the pain.

"Did he touch you?" she asked. "Finger you?" she wondered, swinging the belt round, feeling the shock through her arm as it landed to bring still more fire to Lilly's already fiery red bottom.

"Miss, Miss, please!" Lilly cried, panting and whimpering, visibly shaking as she bent back into position knowing better than to try and evade her mistresses strokes. However bad Miss Isobel's spankings were, a spanking from Mr Jones was far worse, and was recorded in his little book too. Too many of those and her pay would be docked, her position put in jeopardy.

Another landed to sear into her behind and she rocked back and forth, whimpering with the burning that followed, that invaded her and claimed her for its own.

"Yes. Willing to do anything to have me stop yet?" Isabel asked, bringing her arm round to deliver another strike of the belt, this one low, at the base of her bottom where the skin was tenderest.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Lilly sobbed, knowing she was not allowed to reach back and squeeze and rub her sore bottom yet, whimpering instead as the pain continued to travel within her, a burning sensation her hands wouldn't be able to reach anyway.

"Yes? Come along then. Prove it!" Isabel called, lifting her gown to drag her French style knickers down, then turn away from the maid and lift one leg onto the seat of her dressing table. "Come along, or I'll have the stable-hand come up here and hold you down so I can deliver the rest to that soft bottom of yours!" she quipped, her cheeks burning as she allowed herself to think of how naughty she was being.

The maid rushed forward, now gripping her burning bottom, squeezing the tender cheeks even as she fell to her knees behind her mistress to turn her head up and press her mouth ardently against the young woman's sex.

Soft curls tickled her lower face but her tongue drove easily between the tapered labia obscuring the woman's vagina, and Lilly drew the thick moisture coating Isabel's pudendum to fill her mouth with its sweet taste.

"Yes, you hussy!" Isabel gasped, bending forward a little further to allow the girl greater access.

The tongue slid back, the slippery touch inflaming the woman but not drawing out another gasp until it had slid onto her anal ring, tickling and wriggling against the sensitive sphincter to cause Isabel to cry out yet again.

"Filthy girl!" she gasped, losing her breath to the incredible sensation of having her corrugated anal ring licked by another's tongue. "Harder!" she panted, reaching back to help part her overly protective cheeks and leave herself defenceless to the girl's probing tongue.

Lilly slid her mouth to her mistress's pussy to lap at the sweet juice seeping from her cunny, now exposed by the woman's fingers drawing her flesh apart. She licked, then pressed her face more close to her crotch to thrust her tongue into the tight little passage and draw out more sweetly flavoured oils.

"Yes, yes. God, don't stop!" Isabel gasped, beginning to quiver as excitement rose with the sliding of the other's tongue.

Lilly forgo squeezing her own bottom to reach up and help Isabel spread her own, the standing woman's bottom smaller and tighter than her own, but the cleft, once parted, not so deep. She palmed the cheeks and spread them, then took a moment to admire the woman's little timid anus, watching it quiver under her close scrutiny before she leant up and applied her mouth to it.

"Oh God; you slut, you filthy slut!" Isabel cried, pushing herself back onto the tongue that wriggled into her backside.

Unable to hold herself back any longer, she drove a hand between her legs to sob as she urgently rubbed the apex of her vulva, quickening the swell of excitement that would soon have to burst from her.

"Yes, yes!" she all but screamed, blindly reaching back with her free hand to press the maid's head more tightly to her bottom, her mouth opening to emit a strangled gasp as the tongue re-entered her anal ring to wriggle inside her arse.

Lily felt her mistress was on the verge of coming and quickly pulled her tongue from her anal ring to re-immerse it in her sopping cunny. As she did so, she turned a hand to place her thumb over the quivering little bum-hole, and without any finesse, plunged it into the woman.

Isabel bit her lip and alternated between clutching at her crotch and uncontrollably spanking it, a high pitched whine escaping her tense body as she quivered upon the tongue and thumb, the myriad of sensations culminating in her storming orgasm, flooding her with uncontrollable delight and taking away all her anger and her fear to leave her warm and contented, for the moment sated.

The thumb drew gently from her bottom followed by the tongue slipping away, a departing lick making her catch her breath and jerk. Something to remember if she ever wanted to spank the girl again.

"That will be all, Lilly," she told the girl, dropping her foot from the chair and straightening her gown. She kicked aside her knickers rather than put them back on. They would only irritate her moist, warm and tender pussy.

"Yes Miss," Lilly nodded, rushing to her uniform to begin pulling it on.

"And take this letter and give it to Jones. He'll know what to do with it," Isabel ordered, handing the maid the envelope while extracting a cigarette from its case and fitting it to the dinner-length stem of her cigarette holder.

"And next time," Isabel added, not even glancing at the maid as the girl made her way to the door. "Make sure your nails are adequately cut," she murmured, still feeling the ghost of its rasp against the inner wall of her rectum.