Cbarton
2nd Level Yellow Feather
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This one of the first stories I ever wrote. Hopefully, my skills have improved over the years....
Nicollette shivered as she walked up the stairs. It was a warm afternoon in the manor house, for her trembling was from nerves. This was one of the most important days of her life, and she intended to succeed. The rest of her life, as well as livelihood depended on success today. She had worked long and hard for this, and would not fail.
Nicollette's life shouldn't have been this difficult. Her father had been a blueblood, an English nobleman. Her mother was of excellent breeding and well known in cultural circles. She had been well raised. Not spoiled, but still she was well cared for, with no real wants unmet. They had sent her to Paris for finishing school to prepare her for the gentry life she, too would lead. But fate had not been kind. Her parents were savagely murdered on holiday in London. Her uncle, and now guardian, was the standard unscrupulous sort that Nicollette had read about in her classes, but never dreamed she would have to endure herself. Why, this was 1897, and that kind of uncivilized behavior just couldn't happen! But, Uncle Carl stole her inheritance to pay his gambling debts, and left her stranded in Paris. Her schoolmaster was not without heart completely and took her in to allow Nicollette to work for her schooling. But, this too came at a high price, for the schoolmaster also expected her to perform activities not exactly 'lady-like" in exchange for her room and board.
Somehow, she had managed to scavenge enough money to make it back to London. All of her schooling hadn't gone completely to waste, and she determined that there were two ways for her to earn money quickly and be able to go after her uncle in the courts. One was to become a harlot, which was not a preferable option. The other was to hire herself out as a maid or housekeeper. With her upbringing, she would be able to serve any aristocratic home. She signed on with a well-known agency and was quickly hired at a good rate. The only problem was that it was in Ireland. In fact, it was all the way over in County Sligo, in the northwestern corner of the isle. It would keep her from London and watching her uncle's moves, but it was the best money available, so she took it.
The O'Dubda manor wasn't as dreary as she imagined it would be. She had trouble fitting in at first. All but one of her uniforms were of French design, as opposed to the standard, more conservative British attire the rest of the staff wore. Shamus, the old butler, treated her well and she had impressed him with her skill and knowledge of tending a house. The other maids, however, were older and didn't care for the fresh, young (and highly attractive) upstart. They thought her uniforms too daring ("why, you could actually see her legs, above the knees even") and her young figure filled out in curves that were distracting to all the male staff, let alone the guests. So, except for Shamus, poor Nicollette was without much company.
Things quickly changed six months after Nicollette arrived. Morgan, Master O'Dubda's personal handmaid for the past 5 years, left her post and left with her new husband for America. They had married in a big rush, without the normal courting period. The obvious whispers began even before they boarded the ship, but they just as quickly faded. She had been his chambermaid since before the master's young wife died.
This change was a great opportunity for Nicollette. As personal chambermaid, she would have his ear and attention. That, and the raise in wages could boost her quest to gain her inheritance and title back. At the first opportunity, she asked Shamus about the position. He smiled slyly and assured her that she would be added to the applicant list. She gave him a slow, bending curtsy in appreciation. She knew he enjoyed viewing her, as did the master, and always wanted to keep the kind butler in her court. Two of the other maids, plus a matronly applicant from Galway completed interviews. They were all very confident in their whispers afterwards, but Nicollette was still determined to win the job.
She slowly walked up the steps and reviewed the advice Shamus had given her. "Stand out, show him what is 'different' about you compared to the other applicants. Allow him to see your attributes, and do what he asks and perform without unsought distraction, and you will do well." She wasn't sure what attributes he was referring to, but she knew what 'assets' she could use to stand out.
She had chosen one of her French design uniforms. He always gave her sly looks and smiles when she wore this one. It had a skirt that ended halfway down the thigh, with enough lacey trim to make the hem stand out. The bodice was very low-cut, and placed her ample bosom on display. Her long, raven hair was in a stylish braid in the back of her head, but out of her way to do work. She had chosen to go without stockings, and wore ballet-style slippers to allow her to walk quietly. She had debated whether to wear bloomers under the skirt, but decided to go with a slightly frilly undergarment that actually just covered her backside, a very daring purchase before leaving Paris.
She reached the door and knocked. It was about 4:30 PM, when the master took tea. She was to serve him and meet his needs through the rest of the day. He called for her to come in. She slowly inhaled as she entered his study. She tried to calm her excitement as she entered. Besides being her employer, he also caused her pulse to quicken for other reasons. Tall, dark brown hair, and an air of authority made him one of the more attractive men she had ever met. She fought back the fantasies and concentrated on performing her duties.
She laid the tray on the small table next to his desk. She transferred the plate of scones and jam without a sound and turned back to get the teapot. She poured his tea and stood at the front right corner of the desk, as instructed by Shamus. Mr. O'Dubda looked up at her often as he ate, drank, and read from a weekly Dublin newspaper. She felt a warm sensation all over her when he looked at her, but tried to hide it from him. "He needs to see me as a competent woman, not some giggly schoolgirl," she reminded herself.
After a few minutes, he asked her to clear his desk. She curtsied slightly, trying to 'discretely' display herself and walked over quietly to the table and removed the dishes. The master was now ready to write correspondence. Nicollette took her cloth and began to clean the surface of tea drops and crumbs without interfering with his writing. In spite of the modern inventions, the master still used a quill pen for private correspondence, and the pen was moving quite rapidly as she cleaned his desk. All she had left was the front and two back corners. She took the opportunity to bend at the waist when she cleaned the front. "May as well let him see what a pleasant sight I would be up here for him," was her idea. She was young and attractive, the others were old and frumpy, so why not give him a choice and appealing option? She held the position long enough to make sure he saw the display, then slowly rose. The gleam in his eye told that he had noticed, and enjoyed. She then moved to the back right corner, standing next to him.
As she cleaned and dusted the desktop, Nicollette jumped with a start. She felt something, a slight tickling sensation on the inner part of her upper arm. She looked and saw that Master O'Dubda's quill pen had brushed her arm. She stifled a giggle as best she could, and kept on cleaning. It happened again, and she let out a quiet giggle, unable to control her reaction. She had always been insanely ticklish all over her body. She moved away quickly, and then bent at the waist to put things in the garbage basket next to the desk, attempting to show off her "frillies." She had no idea if the master had noticed, but at least she gave the opportunity.
She quickly cleaned the left corner. Master O'Dubda had quill in hand as he reached for something from the left bottom drawer of his desk. The plume slid along Nicollette's outer thigh as he reached down. She held her position cleaning the desk, but was unable to hold in the giggles as the ticklish sensation moved along her leg, stopping at the knee. She held her post and finished the corner, moving away from the desk as the plume barely nicked the back of her leg. She suspected he had this time tickled her on purpose, but held her tongue. The master had a reputation for being a prankster and a slight rogue, so she took it as part of the interview test.
When the master had finished his letter, he had her sit down in the chair before him. He asked her about her childhood and upbringing. It seems he had done some research on her, for he knew about her parents, her schooling, and seemed to know a bit about her uncle. She was amazed at how much he already knew about her and answered his questions completely and candidly, almost to the point of embarrassment. She figured she had better not leave anything out, since it appeared he knew the answers anyway.
After nearly an hour of questions, Master O'Dubda finished his inquiries. He next instructed her to dust and clean the entire room. She started with the bookcase across the room. She reached, stooped, and bent in such a manner that Mr. O'Dubda could view her attributes well, but discreetly, a lesson learned at finishing school. She completed the task quietly, but not with catching the master's eyes at time, usually with much approval.
When the room was done, she approached his desk, asking, "What may I do for you now, Master O'Dubda?" He pondered a moment, then looked at his watch. It was 7 PM. He smiled in a way that both aroused and scared Nicollette, and she didn't know why.
"Yes, follow me to my inner chambers..." he replied after a pause. Nicollette felt her skin get warm as she realized the inner chambers was his bedroom. He led the way across the room to the door. He opened it, and held the door so Nicollette could enter. She saw a very elegant room, decorated with carved wood and small painted artworks. He led her to his bed and sat down on the left side about in the middle.
"You will show me how you will prepare me for bed," he told her. He pulled off his own boots, then sat and pointed at the socks. She obeyed and removed them. He next instructed her to get his nightshirt from the wardrobe next to the bed. As she complied, he removed his belt and trousers. Nicollette tried not to stare at him as she realized how little he was wearing.
"Prepare the bed," he ordered. Nicollette walked over and pulled down the bedcovers as Master O'Dubda began to undo the buttons on his shirt. She felt her heart beat faster as see saw the masculine form of the man. She finished preparing the bed, as he was finishing with his shirt. She noticed he was now standing behind her, with a perfect view under her skirt as she was bent over preparing the bed. She could also see by his physical reaction that he approved of what he saw.
He put on his nightshirt, handed her the other shirt and ordered her to remove the cufflinks. As she did, one slipped from her hands and fell to the floor. It bounced under the bed as she tried to pounce on it. She put the shirt on a table near the bed and knelt down to reach under the bed to get the cufflink, fearing if she didn't come up with it, her chances would be gone forever. Just as her fingers were about to grasp it, she felt fingers begin to touch her backside. She jumped a little, but not much. Obviously, the master either expected such activity from her, or he had been too long without a maiden. Either way, she knew not objecting to his advance would work in her favor. Growing up in affluence, she had seen both her father and guests behave in such a manner at times. She waited and found she enjoyed his touch. After several minutes, it stopped and she backed out, presenting the cufflink to Mr. O'Dubda.
Nicollette was pleased to see the smile on his face as she handed it to him. A sly grin crossed his face. He held up the cufflink before her, then dropped it in the floor where it again rolled under the bed. Nicollette returned the smile knowingly and proceeded to retrieve it. This time it had rolled farther and she had to lie on her belly to reach it. Her head and shoulders were under the bed, the rest of her body was at the edge of the carpet on the floor next to the bed.
Suddenly, Nicollette felt two hands grab her ankles and drag her across the rug. He had pulled her body in a fashion that had her laying on the edge of the rug. Before she could react, she felt her body rolling over as Master O'Dubda proceeded to roll her up in the carpet. Before she knew it, she was incased in the rub like a sausage wrapped in dough. Her head and shoulders stuck out one end, arms encased in the rug and unable to move. Her feet stuck out the other end, starting right above the ankles.
She tried to hide the panic building in her as she started to speak. "M-master O'Dubda..wh-wh-what are you doing? D-D-Did I do something wrong?"
"No, my dear," he replied. "You have passed ever test so far with flying colors. Your skills as a maidservant are beyond compare. But, any wench can be a maid. I have needs other than housekeeping that I need you to perform and fulfill"
Nicollette was face down and could not see what was happening. Master O'Dubda reached towards Nicollette’s feet and removed her left shoe. The soft pink sole looked very inviting. He next flicked off the right shoe, pausing to enjoy the sight. "Now," he chuckled, "let's test you out to see if you meet the unadvertised requirements..."
"Unadvertised? What do you me-hee-hee-heen!!" Nicollette felt his index finger stroke from her left heel to her toes. Her feet were very sensitive, almost hyperticklish and she hated anyone touching them. "No, pleeheeheesee...stop...not tha-hahahahhhat!" Her cries fell on deaf ears as began to play with both soles. The tickling felt horrid as she tried to control her reactions to the methodical stroking of her soft soles.
Then, it stopped, almost as surprisingly immediate as it started. "Good," she thought, "he got that out of his system and maybe we can get on to me winning this job." Next, she yelped as Master O'Dubda heaved the carpet roll onto his shoulder and began to carry her to the door at the other end of the room. When he reached it, he knocked once, waited, then twice. A responding three knocks followed and the door opened. Nicollette, still trying to recover from the tickling, was foot first to the door and could not see where she was going. When her head entered the room, it seemed dark and her positioning made it impossible to see what was happening.
Master O'Dubda turned her around, and Nicollette saw Rory, the gardener grab the head end of the roll. She felt herself lowered to the ground, now sitting face up. She could see several of the male members of the manor staff in the room. Master O’Dubda motioned, then Rory and Ian, the liveryman left her up and the master began to unroll the carpet from around her. When roll was loose enough, Ian reached in and grabbed Nicollette by the shoulders to prevent her fall. When she swung her arms to attempt to free herself, Ian deftly grabbed her wrists, like a frog catching a fly. With the carpet off, the lowered her to the floor again. Rory lowered her feet first, and she quickly saw a set of foot stocks waiting. She fought, but was unable to prevent the master from locking them in around her ankles. They felt as if they were lined with velvet, but held her firm, just the same. Next, the master began to attach cuffed ropes to her wrists. Ian was way too strong from working the animals in the barns for the young lass to overcome.
Her eyes now adjusted, she could see that she was locked down and at a very slight angle, head up. Her arms were held up in the air slightly back and outward. Besides Ian and Rory, she could see Lowell, the cook and... Shamus? Her eyes widened as she saw who she thought was her trusted friend, if not only friend in the house! "Shamus, please....help me!" She cried. Shamus simply said in his dignified English accent, "No, my child. This is all part of the job. You will not be hurt, I promise you." He approached her and began to remove her uniform. She protested loudly and screamed, but Shamus ignored her and proceeded to remove her dress, cutting it off where needed. He slowly cut off removed her mini-corset, carefully unstringing it so he would not have to cut it. Her frilly bottoms were not as lucky, but Shamus took his time as her slowly pulled them down, exposing her garden gates. Then he snipped the panties off, returning to his place along the wall.
"And now," Master O'Dubda declared. "Time for the games to begin. You will not be harmed in any way, Nicollette, but my chambermaid must possess, shall we say, certain qualities and abilities."
"What are going to do to me?" she cried. Nicollette was in near panic, not knowing what to expect. Her young, soft flesh was helplessly exposed to five men and she was helpless to prevent whatever they had planned for her.
"You will now find out," he replied as he approached her, carrying a wooden rod. "Please, don't beat me," she thought as he approached. Instead, he placed it in a hole in the floor between her legs, near her mound. It was covered with the same velvet that lined the ankle holes. It was straight, except near the end attaching to the floor, where it had a bend. The spot where the rod had been attached must have been movable, for the master moved the forward. Nicollette was shocked to discover that the bend in the rod fit perfectly against her maidenhood! After he placed the rod against her, he moved to her feet. He removed a wooden dowel from between her feet. This freed the ankle stocks to freely move from side to side. He pushed them together so that her legs were firmly together, holding the rod in place.
"You may get to enjoy the scratching post, but not now. First, we need to warm you up a bit."
"For wh-what?" she stammered.
"For the most intense experience of your young life, my dear," he said with his sly smile firmly in place. He motioned to Shamus, who again stepped forward. He now held two feather dusters. They each had a hook on the handles. He hooked them to two small cords hanging above her. As he did this, she noted that they were hollowed out in a conical shape underneath, except for a small knob of feather at the top of the cone. Shamus next lowered them, adjusting the height until each duster was covering a breast. Nicollette shuddered as she felt the feathers against her ample bosom, the hollowing causing all of her breast to be touched by feathers. The knob of feather at the top of each cone surrounded each nipple. She tried not to move, not wanting to feel what these would do to her. Shamus then slowly twirled each cord, which Nicollette now saw was attached to a spring. This kept them twirling very slowly, more than enough to begin arousing and tickling her. She did her best to stifle the giggles, but Shamus kept it up methodically until the giggles at first trickled, then poured out her mouth. The master smiled, nodding for Shamus to continue. Nicollette next tried to sway her body, trying to avoid the dusters, but that only caused the dusters to move like pendulums, hitting her breasts as well as the skin around them. Ian and Rory then tightened the ropes, making it impossible for Nicollette to sway her body.
The master motioned his head again, and Rory stepped forward. He took a position at her left, kneeling beside her left arm and ribcage. His fingers begin to softly scrape her armpit. Nicollette bucked hard as his fingers searched and found every ticklish nerve ending there. She had just shaved herself there to look good for the interview and the skin was even more sensitive than normal. The dusters had done the trick and she was unable to hold back the laughter as he softly dug at her skin.
"PLEEHEEEHEEEHEESEEE...STOP...NOT THERE! PLEHEEEEHEEEHEEHEEHEESE...ANYHEHEHEWHERE BUT THEHEHEHEHRE!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, praying for someone to hear. But the room had thick walls, and blocked all sound from escaping. Rory continued the soft digging for about 5-10 minutes, which felt like an eternity to the young lass. He stopped, leaving her gasping for air, desperately. To her horror, he walked over to her right side, kneeling again. "NO! No more..please...I’ll do anything...you can have anything you want...just please....no more pleheeheeheeseeee! She begged to his deaf ears as his fingers dug into the right armpit. His 20 years digging for potatoes and other roots in the gardens made his fingers very adept at the searching out her soft flesh. The tickling felt so intense that Nicollette thought she would go insane. The dusters were still doing their job, Shamus being very skilled in keeping them moving and in place. However, the only thing Nicollette could think about was the digging of Rory into her soft skin. Fifteen minutes later, he stopped again, moving out of reach of her body.
The master let her rest, seeing she needed air. Shamus lifted off the dusters, showing her ample breasts to all again, with fully engorged nipples. She saw the master lick his lips at their sight. "Please, you can have my flesh, just let me go...please..." she softly whimpered. The thought of him ravishing her was not unpleasant, and she was wiling to do anything to be free of her bonds. After a 10-minute rest, Shamus lowered the dusters again.
"No... no more please!" she begged as now Ian stepped forward, kneeling as Rory before, but further down. Nicollette could guess what was next, but was unable to protest before his fingers dug into her ribs. The laughter came immediately and was much louder. The giggling of the dusters and girlish laughter of the pits became a deep, throaty laughter as Ian dug his strong fingers into her, almost burying them into her side. The master was afraid he might hurt her, but Ian was experienced and never left even a bruise, for his fingers were quick as well as strong. Shamus removed the dusters so that the master and the rest of the men could enjoy her bouncing bodice. Nicollette was unable to talk or beg at this point; only able to laugh involuntarily as the swift fingers played her ribs like the harpsichord he played in his quarters every night. Fifteen minutes of ticklish harmony ended as Ian moved to the other side. Nicollette was allowed five minutes of blessed rest, but was still laughing from the previous side as Ian resumed on her right torso. She had nearly passed out when he stopped at the master’s command. He wanted to be sure she would last to the very end.
Another ten minutes of rest passed as the master inspected the maiden and her bonds. The rod was still in place, noting that the velvet was beginning to dampen. He smiled slyly and motioned for Lowell to approach. Nicollette knew where he was going before he started.
"Please, master, not my feet..please, not there...I beg you..have mercy on me..."
"This is mercy. For those how are unfavorable, they receive a burlap scratching post.." He reached over and flicked the end of the rod. The vibrations carried to her mound and she felt the unexpected warm sensations of the rod against her womanhood. It began to make here wonder what the velvet felt like against her.
"Be careful. Once you start scratching, you won't want to stop....” Lowell was now at her feet, and she felt a soft, wet sensation between her toes. Lowell’s tongue began to dart in and out in random patterns. She was unable to block him, not knowing where he would go next. Her giggles and laughter were softer, mostly due to her raw throat from the rib ordeal. Next, Lowell’s fingers began to play with her arches as his tongue continued to dart among her toes, making it impossible to fight him. The wiggling of her feet caused the muscles in her legs to move as well, causing the rod to rub against her. As his tickling intensified, she felt the velvet rub her. It felt so good, making the ticking bearable, almost.
NO! She snapped out of it. "That's what they want. I won't give in to it." She was determined and endured the fiendish foot play as best she could. The master recognized the fight, and stopped Lowell after 20 minutes of foot tickling. Nicollette was breathing hard, from the ticking and the arousal from the rod. She had taken it everywhere she imagined they could tickle her. Was the ordeal finally over?
The master motioned, and every moved near their areas. They took their places. "Oh no," she thought, "not that! Not all at once!" Panic filled her eyes. The master knelt near her hips, noting the velvet was much wetter than before. He pulled out a single black raven feather, waving it over her ceremonially. He then touched it to the skin right below her navel and slowly drug it downward. Nicollette shuddered as this not only tickled, but also made the skin next to the rod feel hot and wet. She began into girlish giggles as he stroked the feather over her lower belly and groin. Her muscles tensed as he began to tease her,” tickle tickle tickle...doesn’t it feel good down here..." The feather dipped down to the hollow of her hips, then trailed toward the rod, very slowly. She was trying to resist the sensations he was creating. Her pelvic muscles began to tighten more, wanting to move in an instinctual rhythm. Almost against her will, she began to rub her clit hood against the rod. The pleasure of the extra soft velvet against her pleasure zones blocked out everything the master was doing. He watched her as her hips moved against the wooden rod, smiling as she pushed harder and harder against it. "Once they start, they can't stop," he thought to himself.
Nicollette began to be enveloped in the kind of pleasure she had only felt once before. She had pleasured herself on a dare from one of her schoolmates late one night. She felt the climax coming. A few strokes more, and she would be there. All the tickling would be worth this. Just one, maybe two more strokes...
At that moment, the master shouted, "NOW!" Lowell pulled out the securing rod, then pushed her legs as far apart as possible. The master then pulled the rod out of it holder and tossed it aside. "NOOOOOoooo, please....not yet!" The desperation was evident in her eyes. She was almost there! The master motioned to the others and they moved to their positions.
"No, not that...not now! No, please mercy-heeheeheeheee..." was all she could get out as they began at once. The only exception was Shamus, who had detached the dusters and was now 'dusting" her breasts fiendishly. This was completely new to her; she could not focus in on one sensation, for they were all intensely tickling her body in unison, as if they were a symphony orchestra performing a composer's masterpiece.
The master, their 'conductor,' now knelt between her legs. He pulled out the raven feather again, holding it like a conductors baton. He now lowered it toward her nether region. She never saw his actions, but immediately felt them. The master deftly and erotically began to stroke her outer lips and clit, now risen out from the hood. The feather tip began its erotic teasing and tickling.
Nicollette could feel his contact down there and wanted to resist it. But the tickling by the others made it impossible to block out, and her own self-arousal made the area dying for the ultimate release, and began to betray her will and resolve into the lustful desires that were flooding her. She found herself wanting more and more. She was now giving herself over the overwhelming and non-stop intensity of what the men were doing.
Suddenly, her body began to buck and convulse, moving beyond her control. Her voice began to shout out in ways she never knew possible. Her body first went numb, then suddenly felt as if every nerve fiber in her body was about to explode at once. The master motioned for them to stop, as he kept the raven feather moving on her throbbing nub. In seconds, she shouted as orgasm engulfed her body totally, the intense sensations from the men still being felt in her body. She convulsed in pleasure as orgasms surrounded her like a second skin.
After ten minutes, her body went limp. The master checked her, reassured when he felt her still breathing. The others undid her bonds and the master lifted her in his arms. He carried her out of the room and laid her on his bed. The other men left the quarters, their job done. He removed his remaining undergarments and nightshirt, his own fully engorged rod thankful for it's release from its bonds. He slid underneath the bed sheets with the barely conscious Nicollette.
Nicollette could not remember how many times they had made love that night. It had been so intense that it seemed as if she had been in ecstasy all night. That had been six months ago, and now she was his devoted chambermaid and mistress. She now served his every need and request. She would never deny him, never. She was his lady. All she desired was him.
Nicollette approached the steps to the master’s chambers. She went up two steps, reached down, and then hung her panties on the peg in the wall, the signal to Shamus that she was up serving the master. He would ensure they were not disturbed. The master had been gone three days, and would be in need of her services. Her skin was well treated, pits smooth, feet clean and supple. It would be a long and glorious night of service to the master...
A Night in O'Dubda Manor
by
The Hawk
by
The Hawk
Nicollette shivered as she walked up the stairs. It was a warm afternoon in the manor house, for her trembling was from nerves. This was one of the most important days of her life, and she intended to succeed. The rest of her life, as well as livelihood depended on success today. She had worked long and hard for this, and would not fail.
Nicollette's life shouldn't have been this difficult. Her father had been a blueblood, an English nobleman. Her mother was of excellent breeding and well known in cultural circles. She had been well raised. Not spoiled, but still she was well cared for, with no real wants unmet. They had sent her to Paris for finishing school to prepare her for the gentry life she, too would lead. But fate had not been kind. Her parents were savagely murdered on holiday in London. Her uncle, and now guardian, was the standard unscrupulous sort that Nicollette had read about in her classes, but never dreamed she would have to endure herself. Why, this was 1897, and that kind of uncivilized behavior just couldn't happen! But, Uncle Carl stole her inheritance to pay his gambling debts, and left her stranded in Paris. Her schoolmaster was not without heart completely and took her in to allow Nicollette to work for her schooling. But, this too came at a high price, for the schoolmaster also expected her to perform activities not exactly 'lady-like" in exchange for her room and board.
Somehow, she had managed to scavenge enough money to make it back to London. All of her schooling hadn't gone completely to waste, and she determined that there were two ways for her to earn money quickly and be able to go after her uncle in the courts. One was to become a harlot, which was not a preferable option. The other was to hire herself out as a maid or housekeeper. With her upbringing, she would be able to serve any aristocratic home. She signed on with a well-known agency and was quickly hired at a good rate. The only problem was that it was in Ireland. In fact, it was all the way over in County Sligo, in the northwestern corner of the isle. It would keep her from London and watching her uncle's moves, but it was the best money available, so she took it.
The O'Dubda manor wasn't as dreary as she imagined it would be. She had trouble fitting in at first. All but one of her uniforms were of French design, as opposed to the standard, more conservative British attire the rest of the staff wore. Shamus, the old butler, treated her well and she had impressed him with her skill and knowledge of tending a house. The other maids, however, were older and didn't care for the fresh, young (and highly attractive) upstart. They thought her uniforms too daring ("why, you could actually see her legs, above the knees even") and her young figure filled out in curves that were distracting to all the male staff, let alone the guests. So, except for Shamus, poor Nicollette was without much company.
Things quickly changed six months after Nicollette arrived. Morgan, Master O'Dubda's personal handmaid for the past 5 years, left her post and left with her new husband for America. They had married in a big rush, without the normal courting period. The obvious whispers began even before they boarded the ship, but they just as quickly faded. She had been his chambermaid since before the master's young wife died.
This change was a great opportunity for Nicollette. As personal chambermaid, she would have his ear and attention. That, and the raise in wages could boost her quest to gain her inheritance and title back. At the first opportunity, she asked Shamus about the position. He smiled slyly and assured her that she would be added to the applicant list. She gave him a slow, bending curtsy in appreciation. She knew he enjoyed viewing her, as did the master, and always wanted to keep the kind butler in her court. Two of the other maids, plus a matronly applicant from Galway completed interviews. They were all very confident in their whispers afterwards, but Nicollette was still determined to win the job.
She slowly walked up the steps and reviewed the advice Shamus had given her. "Stand out, show him what is 'different' about you compared to the other applicants. Allow him to see your attributes, and do what he asks and perform without unsought distraction, and you will do well." She wasn't sure what attributes he was referring to, but she knew what 'assets' she could use to stand out.
She had chosen one of her French design uniforms. He always gave her sly looks and smiles when she wore this one. It had a skirt that ended halfway down the thigh, with enough lacey trim to make the hem stand out. The bodice was very low-cut, and placed her ample bosom on display. Her long, raven hair was in a stylish braid in the back of her head, but out of her way to do work. She had chosen to go without stockings, and wore ballet-style slippers to allow her to walk quietly. She had debated whether to wear bloomers under the skirt, but decided to go with a slightly frilly undergarment that actually just covered her backside, a very daring purchase before leaving Paris.
She reached the door and knocked. It was about 4:30 PM, when the master took tea. She was to serve him and meet his needs through the rest of the day. He called for her to come in. She slowly inhaled as she entered his study. She tried to calm her excitement as she entered. Besides being her employer, he also caused her pulse to quicken for other reasons. Tall, dark brown hair, and an air of authority made him one of the more attractive men she had ever met. She fought back the fantasies and concentrated on performing her duties.
She laid the tray on the small table next to his desk. She transferred the plate of scones and jam without a sound and turned back to get the teapot. She poured his tea and stood at the front right corner of the desk, as instructed by Shamus. Mr. O'Dubda looked up at her often as he ate, drank, and read from a weekly Dublin newspaper. She felt a warm sensation all over her when he looked at her, but tried to hide it from him. "He needs to see me as a competent woman, not some giggly schoolgirl," she reminded herself.
After a few minutes, he asked her to clear his desk. She curtsied slightly, trying to 'discretely' display herself and walked over quietly to the table and removed the dishes. The master was now ready to write correspondence. Nicollette took her cloth and began to clean the surface of tea drops and crumbs without interfering with his writing. In spite of the modern inventions, the master still used a quill pen for private correspondence, and the pen was moving quite rapidly as she cleaned his desk. All she had left was the front and two back corners. She took the opportunity to bend at the waist when she cleaned the front. "May as well let him see what a pleasant sight I would be up here for him," was her idea. She was young and attractive, the others were old and frumpy, so why not give him a choice and appealing option? She held the position long enough to make sure he saw the display, then slowly rose. The gleam in his eye told that he had noticed, and enjoyed. She then moved to the back right corner, standing next to him.
As she cleaned and dusted the desktop, Nicollette jumped with a start. She felt something, a slight tickling sensation on the inner part of her upper arm. She looked and saw that Master O'Dubda's quill pen had brushed her arm. She stifled a giggle as best she could, and kept on cleaning. It happened again, and she let out a quiet giggle, unable to control her reaction. She had always been insanely ticklish all over her body. She moved away quickly, and then bent at the waist to put things in the garbage basket next to the desk, attempting to show off her "frillies." She had no idea if the master had noticed, but at least she gave the opportunity.
She quickly cleaned the left corner. Master O'Dubda had quill in hand as he reached for something from the left bottom drawer of his desk. The plume slid along Nicollette's outer thigh as he reached down. She held her position cleaning the desk, but was unable to hold in the giggles as the ticklish sensation moved along her leg, stopping at the knee. She held her post and finished the corner, moving away from the desk as the plume barely nicked the back of her leg. She suspected he had this time tickled her on purpose, but held her tongue. The master had a reputation for being a prankster and a slight rogue, so she took it as part of the interview test.
When the master had finished his letter, he had her sit down in the chair before him. He asked her about her childhood and upbringing. It seems he had done some research on her, for he knew about her parents, her schooling, and seemed to know a bit about her uncle. She was amazed at how much he already knew about her and answered his questions completely and candidly, almost to the point of embarrassment. She figured she had better not leave anything out, since it appeared he knew the answers anyway.
After nearly an hour of questions, Master O'Dubda finished his inquiries. He next instructed her to dust and clean the entire room. She started with the bookcase across the room. She reached, stooped, and bent in such a manner that Mr. O'Dubda could view her attributes well, but discreetly, a lesson learned at finishing school. She completed the task quietly, but not with catching the master's eyes at time, usually with much approval.
When the room was done, she approached his desk, asking, "What may I do for you now, Master O'Dubda?" He pondered a moment, then looked at his watch. It was 7 PM. He smiled in a way that both aroused and scared Nicollette, and she didn't know why.
"Yes, follow me to my inner chambers..." he replied after a pause. Nicollette felt her skin get warm as she realized the inner chambers was his bedroom. He led the way across the room to the door. He opened it, and held the door so Nicollette could enter. She saw a very elegant room, decorated with carved wood and small painted artworks. He led her to his bed and sat down on the left side about in the middle.
"You will show me how you will prepare me for bed," he told her. He pulled off his own boots, then sat and pointed at the socks. She obeyed and removed them. He next instructed her to get his nightshirt from the wardrobe next to the bed. As she complied, he removed his belt and trousers. Nicollette tried not to stare at him as she realized how little he was wearing.
"Prepare the bed," he ordered. Nicollette walked over and pulled down the bedcovers as Master O'Dubda began to undo the buttons on his shirt. She felt her heart beat faster as see saw the masculine form of the man. She finished preparing the bed, as he was finishing with his shirt. She noticed he was now standing behind her, with a perfect view under her skirt as she was bent over preparing the bed. She could also see by his physical reaction that he approved of what he saw.
He put on his nightshirt, handed her the other shirt and ordered her to remove the cufflinks. As she did, one slipped from her hands and fell to the floor. It bounced under the bed as she tried to pounce on it. She put the shirt on a table near the bed and knelt down to reach under the bed to get the cufflink, fearing if she didn't come up with it, her chances would be gone forever. Just as her fingers were about to grasp it, she felt fingers begin to touch her backside. She jumped a little, but not much. Obviously, the master either expected such activity from her, or he had been too long without a maiden. Either way, she knew not objecting to his advance would work in her favor. Growing up in affluence, she had seen both her father and guests behave in such a manner at times. She waited and found she enjoyed his touch. After several minutes, it stopped and she backed out, presenting the cufflink to Mr. O'Dubda.
Nicollette was pleased to see the smile on his face as she handed it to him. A sly grin crossed his face. He held up the cufflink before her, then dropped it in the floor where it again rolled under the bed. Nicollette returned the smile knowingly and proceeded to retrieve it. This time it had rolled farther and she had to lie on her belly to reach it. Her head and shoulders were under the bed, the rest of her body was at the edge of the carpet on the floor next to the bed.
Suddenly, Nicollette felt two hands grab her ankles and drag her across the rug. He had pulled her body in a fashion that had her laying on the edge of the rug. Before she could react, she felt her body rolling over as Master O'Dubda proceeded to roll her up in the carpet. Before she knew it, she was incased in the rub like a sausage wrapped in dough. Her head and shoulders stuck out one end, arms encased in the rug and unable to move. Her feet stuck out the other end, starting right above the ankles.
She tried to hide the panic building in her as she started to speak. "M-master O'Dubda..wh-wh-what are you doing? D-D-Did I do something wrong?"
"No, my dear," he replied. "You have passed ever test so far with flying colors. Your skills as a maidservant are beyond compare. But, any wench can be a maid. I have needs other than housekeeping that I need you to perform and fulfill"
Nicollette was face down and could not see what was happening. Master O'Dubda reached towards Nicollette’s feet and removed her left shoe. The soft pink sole looked very inviting. He next flicked off the right shoe, pausing to enjoy the sight. "Now," he chuckled, "let's test you out to see if you meet the unadvertised requirements..."
"Unadvertised? What do you me-hee-hee-heen!!" Nicollette felt his index finger stroke from her left heel to her toes. Her feet were very sensitive, almost hyperticklish and she hated anyone touching them. "No, pleeheeheesee...stop...not tha-hahahahhhat!" Her cries fell on deaf ears as began to play with both soles. The tickling felt horrid as she tried to control her reactions to the methodical stroking of her soft soles.
Then, it stopped, almost as surprisingly immediate as it started. "Good," she thought, "he got that out of his system and maybe we can get on to me winning this job." Next, she yelped as Master O'Dubda heaved the carpet roll onto his shoulder and began to carry her to the door at the other end of the room. When he reached it, he knocked once, waited, then twice. A responding three knocks followed and the door opened. Nicollette, still trying to recover from the tickling, was foot first to the door and could not see where she was going. When her head entered the room, it seemed dark and her positioning made it impossible to see what was happening.
Master O'Dubda turned her around, and Nicollette saw Rory, the gardener grab the head end of the roll. She felt herself lowered to the ground, now sitting face up. She could see several of the male members of the manor staff in the room. Master O’Dubda motioned, then Rory and Ian, the liveryman left her up and the master began to unroll the carpet from around her. When roll was loose enough, Ian reached in and grabbed Nicollette by the shoulders to prevent her fall. When she swung her arms to attempt to free herself, Ian deftly grabbed her wrists, like a frog catching a fly. With the carpet off, the lowered her to the floor again. Rory lowered her feet first, and she quickly saw a set of foot stocks waiting. She fought, but was unable to prevent the master from locking them in around her ankles. They felt as if they were lined with velvet, but held her firm, just the same. Next, the master began to attach cuffed ropes to her wrists. Ian was way too strong from working the animals in the barns for the young lass to overcome.
Her eyes now adjusted, she could see that she was locked down and at a very slight angle, head up. Her arms were held up in the air slightly back and outward. Besides Ian and Rory, she could see Lowell, the cook and... Shamus? Her eyes widened as she saw who she thought was her trusted friend, if not only friend in the house! "Shamus, please....help me!" She cried. Shamus simply said in his dignified English accent, "No, my child. This is all part of the job. You will not be hurt, I promise you." He approached her and began to remove her uniform. She protested loudly and screamed, but Shamus ignored her and proceeded to remove her dress, cutting it off where needed. He slowly cut off removed her mini-corset, carefully unstringing it so he would not have to cut it. Her frilly bottoms were not as lucky, but Shamus took his time as her slowly pulled them down, exposing her garden gates. Then he snipped the panties off, returning to his place along the wall.
"And now," Master O'Dubda declared. "Time for the games to begin. You will not be harmed in any way, Nicollette, but my chambermaid must possess, shall we say, certain qualities and abilities."
"What are going to do to me?" she cried. Nicollette was in near panic, not knowing what to expect. Her young, soft flesh was helplessly exposed to five men and she was helpless to prevent whatever they had planned for her.
"You will now find out," he replied as he approached her, carrying a wooden rod. "Please, don't beat me," she thought as he approached. Instead, he placed it in a hole in the floor between her legs, near her mound. It was covered with the same velvet that lined the ankle holes. It was straight, except near the end attaching to the floor, where it had a bend. The spot where the rod had been attached must have been movable, for the master moved the forward. Nicollette was shocked to discover that the bend in the rod fit perfectly against her maidenhood! After he placed the rod against her, he moved to her feet. He removed a wooden dowel from between her feet. This freed the ankle stocks to freely move from side to side. He pushed them together so that her legs were firmly together, holding the rod in place.
"You may get to enjoy the scratching post, but not now. First, we need to warm you up a bit."
"For wh-what?" she stammered.
"For the most intense experience of your young life, my dear," he said with his sly smile firmly in place. He motioned to Shamus, who again stepped forward. He now held two feather dusters. They each had a hook on the handles. He hooked them to two small cords hanging above her. As he did this, she noted that they were hollowed out in a conical shape underneath, except for a small knob of feather at the top of the cone. Shamus next lowered them, adjusting the height until each duster was covering a breast. Nicollette shuddered as she felt the feathers against her ample bosom, the hollowing causing all of her breast to be touched by feathers. The knob of feather at the top of each cone surrounded each nipple. She tried not to move, not wanting to feel what these would do to her. Shamus then slowly twirled each cord, which Nicollette now saw was attached to a spring. This kept them twirling very slowly, more than enough to begin arousing and tickling her. She did her best to stifle the giggles, but Shamus kept it up methodically until the giggles at first trickled, then poured out her mouth. The master smiled, nodding for Shamus to continue. Nicollette next tried to sway her body, trying to avoid the dusters, but that only caused the dusters to move like pendulums, hitting her breasts as well as the skin around them. Ian and Rory then tightened the ropes, making it impossible for Nicollette to sway her body.
The master motioned his head again, and Rory stepped forward. He took a position at her left, kneeling beside her left arm and ribcage. His fingers begin to softly scrape her armpit. Nicollette bucked hard as his fingers searched and found every ticklish nerve ending there. She had just shaved herself there to look good for the interview and the skin was even more sensitive than normal. The dusters had done the trick and she was unable to hold back the laughter as he softly dug at her skin.
"PLEEHEEEHEEEHEESEEE...STOP...NOT THERE! PLEHEEEEHEEEHEEHEEHEESE...ANYHEHEHEWHERE BUT THEHEHEHEHRE!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, praying for someone to hear. But the room had thick walls, and blocked all sound from escaping. Rory continued the soft digging for about 5-10 minutes, which felt like an eternity to the young lass. He stopped, leaving her gasping for air, desperately. To her horror, he walked over to her right side, kneeling again. "NO! No more..please...I’ll do anything...you can have anything you want...just please....no more pleheeheeheeseeee! She begged to his deaf ears as his fingers dug into the right armpit. His 20 years digging for potatoes and other roots in the gardens made his fingers very adept at the searching out her soft flesh. The tickling felt so intense that Nicollette thought she would go insane. The dusters were still doing their job, Shamus being very skilled in keeping them moving and in place. However, the only thing Nicollette could think about was the digging of Rory into her soft skin. Fifteen minutes later, he stopped again, moving out of reach of her body.
The master let her rest, seeing she needed air. Shamus lifted off the dusters, showing her ample breasts to all again, with fully engorged nipples. She saw the master lick his lips at their sight. "Please, you can have my flesh, just let me go...please..." she softly whimpered. The thought of him ravishing her was not unpleasant, and she was wiling to do anything to be free of her bonds. After a 10-minute rest, Shamus lowered the dusters again.
"No... no more please!" she begged as now Ian stepped forward, kneeling as Rory before, but further down. Nicollette could guess what was next, but was unable to protest before his fingers dug into her ribs. The laughter came immediately and was much louder. The giggling of the dusters and girlish laughter of the pits became a deep, throaty laughter as Ian dug his strong fingers into her, almost burying them into her side. The master was afraid he might hurt her, but Ian was experienced and never left even a bruise, for his fingers were quick as well as strong. Shamus removed the dusters so that the master and the rest of the men could enjoy her bouncing bodice. Nicollette was unable to talk or beg at this point; only able to laugh involuntarily as the swift fingers played her ribs like the harpsichord he played in his quarters every night. Fifteen minutes of ticklish harmony ended as Ian moved to the other side. Nicollette was allowed five minutes of blessed rest, but was still laughing from the previous side as Ian resumed on her right torso. She had nearly passed out when he stopped at the master’s command. He wanted to be sure she would last to the very end.
Another ten minutes of rest passed as the master inspected the maiden and her bonds. The rod was still in place, noting that the velvet was beginning to dampen. He smiled slyly and motioned for Lowell to approach. Nicollette knew where he was going before he started.
"Please, master, not my feet..please, not there...I beg you..have mercy on me..."
"This is mercy. For those how are unfavorable, they receive a burlap scratching post.." He reached over and flicked the end of the rod. The vibrations carried to her mound and she felt the unexpected warm sensations of the rod against her womanhood. It began to make here wonder what the velvet felt like against her.
"Be careful. Once you start scratching, you won't want to stop....” Lowell was now at her feet, and she felt a soft, wet sensation between her toes. Lowell’s tongue began to dart in and out in random patterns. She was unable to block him, not knowing where he would go next. Her giggles and laughter were softer, mostly due to her raw throat from the rib ordeal. Next, Lowell’s fingers began to play with her arches as his tongue continued to dart among her toes, making it impossible to fight him. The wiggling of her feet caused the muscles in her legs to move as well, causing the rod to rub against her. As his tickling intensified, she felt the velvet rub her. It felt so good, making the ticking bearable, almost.
NO! She snapped out of it. "That's what they want. I won't give in to it." She was determined and endured the fiendish foot play as best she could. The master recognized the fight, and stopped Lowell after 20 minutes of foot tickling. Nicollette was breathing hard, from the ticking and the arousal from the rod. She had taken it everywhere she imagined they could tickle her. Was the ordeal finally over?
The master motioned, and every moved near their areas. They took their places. "Oh no," she thought, "not that! Not all at once!" Panic filled her eyes. The master knelt near her hips, noting the velvet was much wetter than before. He pulled out a single black raven feather, waving it over her ceremonially. He then touched it to the skin right below her navel and slowly drug it downward. Nicollette shuddered as this not only tickled, but also made the skin next to the rod feel hot and wet. She began into girlish giggles as he stroked the feather over her lower belly and groin. Her muscles tensed as he began to tease her,” tickle tickle tickle...doesn’t it feel good down here..." The feather dipped down to the hollow of her hips, then trailed toward the rod, very slowly. She was trying to resist the sensations he was creating. Her pelvic muscles began to tighten more, wanting to move in an instinctual rhythm. Almost against her will, she began to rub her clit hood against the rod. The pleasure of the extra soft velvet against her pleasure zones blocked out everything the master was doing. He watched her as her hips moved against the wooden rod, smiling as she pushed harder and harder against it. "Once they start, they can't stop," he thought to himself.
Nicollette began to be enveloped in the kind of pleasure she had only felt once before. She had pleasured herself on a dare from one of her schoolmates late one night. She felt the climax coming. A few strokes more, and she would be there. All the tickling would be worth this. Just one, maybe two more strokes...
At that moment, the master shouted, "NOW!" Lowell pulled out the securing rod, then pushed her legs as far apart as possible. The master then pulled the rod out of it holder and tossed it aside. "NOOOOOoooo, please....not yet!" The desperation was evident in her eyes. She was almost there! The master motioned to the others and they moved to their positions.
"No, not that...not now! No, please mercy-heeheeheeheee..." was all she could get out as they began at once. The only exception was Shamus, who had detached the dusters and was now 'dusting" her breasts fiendishly. This was completely new to her; she could not focus in on one sensation, for they were all intensely tickling her body in unison, as if they were a symphony orchestra performing a composer's masterpiece.
The master, their 'conductor,' now knelt between her legs. He pulled out the raven feather again, holding it like a conductors baton. He now lowered it toward her nether region. She never saw his actions, but immediately felt them. The master deftly and erotically began to stroke her outer lips and clit, now risen out from the hood. The feather tip began its erotic teasing and tickling.
Nicollette could feel his contact down there and wanted to resist it. But the tickling by the others made it impossible to block out, and her own self-arousal made the area dying for the ultimate release, and began to betray her will and resolve into the lustful desires that were flooding her. She found herself wanting more and more. She was now giving herself over the overwhelming and non-stop intensity of what the men were doing.
Suddenly, her body began to buck and convulse, moving beyond her control. Her voice began to shout out in ways she never knew possible. Her body first went numb, then suddenly felt as if every nerve fiber in her body was about to explode at once. The master motioned for them to stop, as he kept the raven feather moving on her throbbing nub. In seconds, she shouted as orgasm engulfed her body totally, the intense sensations from the men still being felt in her body. She convulsed in pleasure as orgasms surrounded her like a second skin.
After ten minutes, her body went limp. The master checked her, reassured when he felt her still breathing. The others undid her bonds and the master lifted her in his arms. He carried her out of the room and laid her on his bed. The other men left the quarters, their job done. He removed his remaining undergarments and nightshirt, his own fully engorged rod thankful for it's release from its bonds. He slid underneath the bed sheets with the barely conscious Nicollette.
Nicollette could not remember how many times they had made love that night. It had been so intense that it seemed as if she had been in ecstasy all night. That had been six months ago, and now she was his devoted chambermaid and mistress. She now served his every need and request. She would never deny him, never. She was his lady. All she desired was him.
Nicollette approached the steps to the master’s chambers. She went up two steps, reached down, and then hung her panties on the peg in the wall, the signal to Shamus that she was up serving the master. He would ensure they were not disturbed. The master had been gone three days, and would be in need of her services. Her skin was well treated, pits smooth, feet clean and supple. It would be a long and glorious night of service to the master...
