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Allette

A journey of submission

Sir Jaerls

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Prologue

Arrival

Allette tried very hard not to look at anything other than the countryside crawling by the carriage window.  She had argued the entire trip, even before leaving home, but her mother was implacable.  As much as she did not want to admit it, even privately, there was reason for her mother’s insistence, though when Allette accused her of “selling her daughter into slavery”, the older woman quailed and looked about to weep.  Now it was Allette’s turn to fight back tears.

There were six daughter and four sons in the Witherton family.  Allette was the eldest and at sixteen was well into the age where “acceptable” girls were married.  There had been suitors, owing mostly to her pleasing looks, but without a suitable dowry, there could be no suitable match. 

No respectable family would ever allow her to marry a scion now, as society would consider her a shameless hussy.  It was worse for her younger siblings.  Without money, none could hope to wed well and her widowed mother was condemned to a life of hardship and want.

And yet, the mysterious and infamous Lord Marlton offered her family a way out, a way to save face, a way to live free of want and deprivation.  And all he asked for in return was Allette.

True, the deal was not written so crudely or crassly.  In flowering language and thinly veiled euphemisms, Allette was “invited for a continued stay for as long as her education might require”, but the meaning was clear.  She was to be sold to Lord Marlton.  

She knew it tore her mother to think of it, and Allette tried to be a dutiful daughter, but she was unable to rise above her own despair.  She was to be sold like an animal, or a stick of furniture.

The carriage rumbled on over rain washed roads, as the driver called to the four matched horses in harness.  Allette could hear the creaking of the leather, the groans and squeaks of the carriage as it trundled over the ruts.  It was almost as though life was confined to the world outside of the carriage: out there was sound and light, inside was silence and two women dressed in black with nothing more to be said to each other.

Allette wondered if this was what it felt like to be driven to one’s own execution.  At least a trip to a guillotine was over and done quickly.  This was more similar to being condemned for life in a foreign prison.

“Don’t be so maudlin” her mother admonished, though her heart obviously wasn’t in the rebuke.  Allette had not realized she had spoken out loud.  A “good girl” would have asked her mother’s forgiveness, but Lord Marlton’s castle now began looming in the distance.  Soon enough, she would no longer have a mother, and soon after that, she expected, she would no longer be a “good girl” either.

Such was the power and wealth of her new owner (she could not use the word “benefactor” no matter how she tried) that polite society would turn their eyes discreetly away from her family’s stigmatism of having sold a child.  Her sisters and brothers would again become worthy of marriage and her family name would again appear on the roles of genteel parties and “decent” folk.  Yet no one would ever again include her in that role.  She was forever tainted, and would forever be cast out. 

 

As of today, she doubted anyone would ever again hear from the poor whispered Allette.

 

It was a death of sorts she went to, she thought as the carriage passed through the iron gates.  And purgatory awaited her.

Chapter one

The Greeting

When the carriage arrived at the door of the brooding mansion, Allette gasped. There, on the staircase from the heavy doors to the cobblestoned drive stood the assembled staff. Butlers, maids, cooks, all turned out in a column as they would for their master’s review. It was a singular and unexpected honor. That showing changed Allette’s status from slave to…. well she wasn’t sure what to consider herself at this point: honored guest? family member? Not likely, but whatever her position, it was very clear she had been placed above the servants. In this, at least one fear was relieved.

The women on Lord Marlton’s staff were each and every one young and pretty. Tall, short, slender, and full figured, their hair color ran the spectrum of blonde so light it was almost white to dark as a raven’s wing. Allette counted: fifteen young women lined up at the stairs to greet her.

Their costume was more than a bit odd. Each one had a blouse with a deep scooped V outlined in a thick hem that rolled down the front of the shirt, rising obscenely over each breast and merged right above the line of the skirt hem. The panel that sat inside this outline seemed somehow different from the rest of the cloth, softer, perhaps.

The skirts too were of an odd shape. A plain wrap of brown rough cloth as one was accustomed to seeing on domestics, but these flared out from the waist and then fell drastically. It was as though someone had tried to dress a table top.

There were a dozen men there as well; all but two were young and strong virile men. They wore clothing more accustomed to serving classes and less unusual than the female counter parts. The notable exception to this being the button arraignments mimicking the women’s shirts, but two buttons on a side for the men on either hip, a sturdy cloth stretched over where the cod piece would go on a suit of armor.

Of the two older men, one had the bearing and clothing of a majordomo. He stood at the top of the steps next to the other. Allette instantly knew the second man to be Lord Marlton. His bearing spoke of a military background, and one of command.

He was much better looking than she had feared, though why his appearance should have made a difference to her now, she could not say. He was also more …. Allette thought about it for a while, but only the word “hard” came to mind from looking at him. As though he had been carved roughly from some great solid root, rough edged and unfinished.

Her first look at the man to whom she had been sacrificed stopped her breath for a moment, but she pulled the now familiar resentment around her like a blanket, her protection against the man who owned her.

Lard Marlton smiled as she alighted from the coach. It was an open, welcoming smile, genuine and warm, though there was darkness behind the eyes she did not want to explore. His smile seemed to smooth the chiseled edges of his face and light his eyes. Allette felt her pulse responding. That smile was for her. Such a powerful man, rich and well formed could have whatever he wanted and Allette realized for the first time that what he wanted was her.

Her body began to betray her and she felt a growing moistness between her silken thighs. The small clothes under all the fabric of the multilayered skirts grew damp and the wetness began to spread.

His smile dropped suddenly and the severe angles returned to his face. The darkness behind his eyes took over his mien and he seemed to become a figure of iron, disapproval radiated out of him in every direction.

Allette could not understand what she had done already to displease him; she’d only just stepped out of the carriage. The she realized he was no longer looking at her, but past her, over her shoulder. Her mother had climbed down from the carriage; it was her mother who’d closed off her new and powerful owner.

So, he was not aware her mother had come with. Allette registered that information. Lard Marlton was not all-knowing, and could be surprised, even unpleasantly.

“Ruphus”, Marlton turned to the majordomo, “see to it that my lady’s baggage and my lady are shown to her rooms. I will meet with my lady’s mother in the office. ” His voice was precise, polite and would have frozen steel. Marlton spun on a heel and walked back inside the massive iron bound doors and into the house. The welcome was over.

Chapter Two

The Bath

The room to which she was lead was actually a suite. There was a sitting room with a fireplace, though in the heat of summer, it was unused and the logs stacked inside of it had collected a thin layer of dust. The windows facing the front of the mansion where open and a pleasant, if warm, breeze flowed through the rooms.

The sitting room held four large wingback chairs, covered in old leather and meticulously maintained. There was a low table centered in front of the chairs. The table looked more than solid, it was thick wood polished to high sheen. The legs were as thick around as her upper arms and each had an iron ring about three quarters of the way down the length.

This rather bizarre design style was repeated on the tall armoire, and then again on the massive bed which, incongruously, sat in the middle of the next room. The bed was huge, much larger than any one person needed and had a canopy held up by four thick pillars. Each pillar was in turn festooned with rings beginning at the very top, way above her diminutive height and set every few inches or so to the foot of the bed. It seemed to her that it was an impractical design; if one were to walk too close to the posts, the rings seemed likely to bruise tender flesh.

Looking out the windows in this second room at the view below, Allette realized that she had been given a suite on the corner of the house. The bedroom windows where larger than the sitting room windows, in here, they reached almost to the floor. The curious decor was mimicked here as well, a ubiquitous ring in each corner of the frame.

She removed her bonnet and handed it backwards to one of the maids without looking at the girl. Allette was engrossed in the room, as it seemed to hold nothing but the massive edifice of the bed. She turned and retreated back into the sitting room that she now realized was also a dressing room. The young men assigned the task of carrying her luggage arrived and she spent some time directing them as to the proper placement of each item.

When the men bowed and left, Allette saw a glimpse of the strange design of one’s pants in the more subdued light. It did not hide his anatomy well at all. She averted her eyes and felt her cheeks growing hot with embarrassment, but a part of her had to look surreptitiously while her head was turned. Allette had not seen a man before, not like that. She knew, in theory anyway, about sex and how the man is supposed to be able to enter the woman, but the shape under the cloth seemed far too big for that. Despite herself, she imagined that huge thing inside of her, violating her and she shuddered.

Bereft of speech, she stood still in the room until the men left.

“Are you well, Miss?” One of the maids asked her.

Not trusting her voice, Allette simply nodded. As soon as the porters left, four more young men entered her rooms carrying a heated tub of water. They set it down, bowed and left without a word. Now that she knew what to look for, she noticed that each of them had a similar outline: some larger, some smaller, but all…. impressive. She busied herself with her sleeves and admiring the ornate bas relief on the mantle until they filed out.

The bath was a surprise, especially as heating that much water took time. In order to have it ready for her arrival, it would have to have been heating for an hour at least. Allette considered refusing but it had been a long morning and a dusty ride. Besides, the two maids were still there and it was so much easier getting out of all the frippery when one had assistance.

She stood still, raising her arms or legs when necessary to expedite the removal of her clothing. Layer after layer was pealed and pulled off of her, buttons and stays released and each piece conscientiously whisked away, presumably to be cleaned. Standing in her small clothes, she turned to the bath, but was stopped by the smooth efficiency of the maids. She was stripped, all clothing removed from her, despite her protests to the contrary. “Good girls” bathed in their small clothes, it was unseemly to be naked - especially in front of the domestics, but it felt … exciting somehow. It was a way to begin her new life, she rationalized, by throwing out an old convention.

She was lead naked between them to the bath. They held her steady as she stepped into the water and then one of the maids took a cloth and began scrubbing Allette’s back. The sensation was relaxing, and Allette began to unwind a bit. Perhaps this was not precisely purgatory after all.

The other maid knelt to the other side of the tub and with another cloth, began washing Allette’s face and neck; the sensation of the two of them, one in front and one in back began lulling her into a pleasant stupor.

On her back, the washcloth reached all the way down, leaving her with goose bumps even in the warmth of the water. In front, the maid began taking what Allette considered liberties. She was tempted to give a harsh reprimand, but she was covered with dust from the road and her own perspiration and the rough cloth caressing her nipples was seductive.

The maids ran their cloths, and often bare hands, around her soft young skin. Touching her, caressing her back and neck and her breasts the servants murmured approval of her high firm flesh. Her legs were lifted from the water by the ankles, the washing continued along her slender calves, each caress climbing higher. The bathers cleansed her shins, knees, and spread her further apart, her legs rising out of the bath forced her to sit lower in the tub, making her breasts float in the cooling bath.

The servants continued their ministrations, easing up the tender thighs. Despite herself Allette let out a small whimper as their fingers found the small tuft of hair between her legs. They scrubbed her center, and when the cloth slipped from one hand, Allette began to panic and tried to order them to release her, but the only sound her body would make was a low groan.

They touched her sex gently, slowly. The hair was cleaned and pressed with fingers rough from labors and yet tapered and feminine. Her folds were taken in those coarse hands, gingerly pulled from her mound and washed and rubbed. The sensations running up her body threatened to overwhelm her. Indignant, panicked, she squirmed, trying to break their hold but her body betrayed her again.

Fingers took her swelling bud, and then slipped inside her core. She thrashed, crying in the tepid water. Her mind in a state of panic, but her body demanded more and more.

Her struggles became sensual writhing under the delirious touch. Her hips rose of their own volition to take the fingers deeper into her. She could feel the tightness and though she realized that now the girls knew she was no virgin, that gibbering part of her mind ran from the sensation and was overwhelmed.

The fingers probed her deeply, the sensations overcoming her. She grabbed the edge of the tub until her knuckles whitened with the effort of trying not to cry out. A new sensation merged with the rest: lips taking her nipple, one of the maids suckling her like a baby.

An unexpected sound came through the haze of her pleasure. It was a moment before her mind could sort it out from the ecstasy building in her. Out in the courtyard, a carriage was leaving.

She thrashed against them, the violence of her movements gaining her freedom. Naked, she ran to the window, throwing it open and leaning out to see the carriage rumbling through the iron gates. She could see her mother in the carriage, bonnet tied firmly to her head, resolutely looking forward.

“MOTHER!” Allette cried out, but it was too late. Her mother had left and worse, she had departed still believing Allette hated her. Allette watched the carriage drive out of sight and only then noticed the gardeners looking up at her and how exposed she was to their view.

The indecency of the bath, coupled with embarrassment at her exposure made her snap at the maids. “OUT! GET OUT! FILTHY CREATURES! GET OUT!” The last was more screech than verbalized. Towels and bits of clothing hit the door as the girls ran out, slamming it shut behind them.

Allette threw herself on the giant bed and wept. Perhaps pleasure was a sort of purgatory after all.

Chapter Three

Dinner

After a soft, almost tenuous knock which Allette barely heard, the door to the outer room swung open. Three maids filed into the bedroom where she lay, still naked on the giant bed. Allette could hear a small commotion in the outer room and assumed there were others taking away the tub.

If it were not the middle of summer, Allette might have caught her death, laying there on the bed wet and naked. For quite some time, she regretted the warmth of summer and prayed for some dread illness from which she would not recover, but she had since cried herself dry.

Her arms felt heavy and numb as they dressed her. Their admonitions about being late for dinner and “Master’s wrath” meant little. She had found her own escape, the sweet smothering blanket of apathy. They fussed about her hair, twirling the long dark tresses and layering them on her head. Ivory combs and baby’s breath flowers fairly glowed in the silken cascade of her locks.

She was dressed in layers of silks and lace. It was some time before she began to realize that the dress she was wearing was not one of hers. Perhaps while her father was alive he might have been able to afford such a dress for his daughter, but even so it would have been assiduously stored in a clothes press and taken out only at Christmas and cotillions.

The dress roused her attention somewhat. It was a magnificent affair, white with pink highlights, a neckline that showed a shocking amount of skin - even her collarbone was exposed for all to see. Still, the naughtiness of the cut was little more than risqué. There were always those that pushed the edge of decency in women’s fashions and Allette was beginning to feel somewhat impudent.

Her mother had left without a word, finalizing the sale of her daughter to a wealthy Lord. Fine. Allette was not going to allow that to cow her. Let him dress her like a living doll and if the humiliation of her exposure pleased him, then she would allow that. It would make it so much sweeter then when she denied him his victory.

She had no delusions that should he decide to rape her there was nothing she could do to prevent it, but if he believed that she would go willingly to his bed, she would show him error of his vision.

She could only think of the act of rape being like the fumbling and awkward coupling she had felt when Aaron, her family’s stable boy, found her in the hayloft with her hand in her smallclothes. He’d threatened to tell if she did not let him have his way with her. It was her first and only encounter with a man’s penis though he was not yet a man. It tore her hymen and the blood that came from her was frightening, though in the end, it amounted to very little: just a sharp pain and then endless pounding in and out of her sore sex. She thought that if that was rape, then she could withstand it and still make her new owner’s life a misery.

As the maids finished up her dress and hair, Allette found herself beginning to look forward to the coming meal. She pictured herself seated erect at the table, proper, cold, and unconcerned for Lord Marlton’s desperate attempts to please her. She resolved that his pathetic attempts at seduction would be futile.

Head high, an arrogant sneer on her face; she strode from the rooms like a queen in review of rather odiferous peasants. The tub had been removed, the room cleaned, and her old clothing whisked away into whatever process awaited dirty clothing before reappearing in the clothes press.

Allette barely noticed. Her eyes were resolutely on the back of the maid in front of her. Still unsure of the layout of the huge edifice Marlton called a home, she had to be lead to the dining room. That too irritated her deeply, though it was not, perhaps, a rational feeling. She held to that ire and vowed to take it out on the one who richly deserved it: Lord Marlton.

When she arrived, she was informed the “Master” had not yet arrived but would be expected soon. Allette was shown to a chair beside the ornate one at the end of the table and Ruphus himself seated her. She felt obscenely exposed in the dress which she fancied HE had chosen for her. The cut almost showed her shoulders, and went nearly halfway down to her cleavage. She forced herself to sit proudly. If he thought he could break her by showing her off, she would show him how wrong he was.

Lord Marlton’s arrival was not, however, in the manner she anticipated. He marched briskly into the room, his attention divided somewhere between watching where he was walking and trying to read one of the many correspondences that threatened to fall to the floor in his wake.

It was the first time she had been this close to him. His energy and – for lack of a better word – masculinity – seemed palpable. She forgot her plans. Her strategies crumbled in the sheer presence of the man. He made her breath falter and her body tremble. By the time she got herself under control, the soup had already been served. She spent several minuets eating until she was sure she could trust herself to speak.

He had yet to notice her. He was still going through his damn mail, reading one missive after another. Those that demanded further attention were stacked beside him; those that evinced his displeasure were crumpled and strewn across the table. Those of the latter category were carefully tended like so many wayward sheep by a staff obviously accustomed to the routine.

Allette thought to take control of the conversation, to make him beg for her affections, to begin the seduction she thought inevitable. Nothing came to her. Her mind blanked.

After the soup bowls were cleared away, the platters of steaming meat and potatoes and vegetables began to arrive. Lord Marlton had a very good cook, Allette allowed. She pulled on her hem, the low neckline itching her skin inspiring her how to begin the conversation. “Thank you for the dress Lord Marlton, but I do not believe that it is seemly for a woman of my stature to be so exposed.” She rehearsed in her head. Yes, that was perfect.

She had to clear her throat twice before she could break the silence. “Thank you for the dress…. ” She said and then his eyes pinned her to her chair.
“Dress? What dress?” His voice was as powerful as he was. It was a voice made rough by yelling commands over the din of battle and one that demanded instant obedience and accepted nothing less.

Allette could not talk; she could barely find the strength to breath. She froze with her hand poised over the offending hem and felt the blood drain from her face.

“Did I buy that dress?” His tone was gruff and partially interested, but the question was not directed at her, but at Ruphus.

“Yes, my lord,” the man replied.

Lord Marlton acknowledged the answer with a grunt and returned to his letters. It effectively ended the conversation and Allette sat there with the food becoming a cold lump of stone in her belly.

The next wadded paper that skittered along the high polished table was scooped up by the same maid that proceeded Allette to the dining room. The movement caught the Master’s attention.

“Misty!” He bellowed and turned to Ruphus as though he sought confirmation of some glaringly obvious transgression. Noting his majordomo, his eyes grew wider and his head began to swivel around the room inventorying each servant. If Allette wasn’t still so frightened of the man, it would have almost been comical.

“WHY THE DEVIL IS EVERYONE DRESSED FOR COMPANY?!” His bellow rattled the delicate china on the table and the whole house reverberated with it. Allette saw one of the serving maids in the corner look as though she was about to faint.

Ruphus was unmoved. “Forgive me, my lord,” he said, though he did not sound so very sorry, “but you have not given the order to change, we simply waited on your pleasure, Master. ”

Marlton harrumphed. “I was a bit busy this afternoon, I suppose, damn the woman. Very well, Ruphus, you may instruct the staff. Normal uniforms again.”

“Very good, sir. ” Ruphus intoned and waved a couple of fingers to a young man standing in attendance. Allette surmised that he had been sent off to spread the master’s orders. As the staff reached for their clothing, she could hear murmurs of relief and whispered comments about the heat.

The mysterious four buttons on the sides of the blouses were now explained as each of the maids unbuttoned them one by one and pulled free the panels inside the hem. The plunging V of their blouses ran over the very center of each breast revealing partial nipples and then plunged down to expose the entire belly, stopping at the hem line of the skirt.

The long brown skirt that draped from waist to floor was removed, revealing the reason for the odd way they were draped. Underneath was another skirt, if such a tiny strip of cloth deserved so grandiose a name.

Allette had once been beaten severely for daring to show an ankle to a boy, it was a secretive, furtive little tease, and it had only been an ankle. The women exposed themselves from foot to hip and Allette swore she might have seen a glimpse of Misty’s smallclothes. Be that as it may, indisputably, the garters and the tops of each of their stockings where in clear view.

Allette’s eyes widened in horror. She spun to face Lard Marlton, waiting for his outrage to rattle the rafters, but he had returned to his damnable letters. She turned next to Ruphus, as majordomo, to demand he enforce the decorum and decency of the house. As she regarded him, the food in her stomach jumped and spun.

The buttons on the men’s pants had a similar function to the women’s tops. Ruphus and the remaining male servant had stripped to the waist. The cloth that covered their loins was gone and Allette’s eyes locked onto the older man.

His chest was rugged and muscular, the twisting hair looking like shaved steel on his skin. His penis and testicles were exposed and though it was not as long as the young servant’s, Ruphus had a thick and knobby shaft. His pants, like the boy’s hugged him tightly, making his genitalia more pronounced.

She tore her eyes away and stared unseeing at the plate before her. She was shocked and offend and angry, and more than a little embarrassed. She had thought that her dress was too revealing? The blood that fled from her face at her host’s displeasure now ran back fast and hot. She knew she was blushing, and hard, but most of that was a reaction to her own naiveté. What a fool she had been. In a fit of pique, she kicked the chair in front of her, knowing and hating the fact that it was a childish thing to do.

The chair hit Misty and upended the tray she carried. Fine delicate china spun through the air and shattered on the floor. The maid almost spun to glare at Allette, knowing full well what happened, but caught herself and only lowered her eyes.

Lord Marlton sighed. It was the sort of sound a patient parent might make to a particularly stupid child. He turned and nodded at Ruphus.

Without a word, Ruphus walked around the table to where Misty stood. He pulled out the chair that had jumped in front of the poor girl and turned it around so the back faced Lard Marlton. Misty’s head hug lower, though Allette would have bet that was not physically possible. The maid moved silently, as though it were a pantomime that had been rehearsed many times.

Misty bent over the back of the chair, taking the seat in her grip. The high back was a slightly taller than the girl’s waist, so she had to scoot up a touch, leaving her feet nearly off the floor. Allette was pinned to her seat. She realized it was not the small clothes she had seen, the girl wore none.

Misty’s bare ass and sex were lewdly displayed. Allette could see her pink round anus and the delicate hairs surrounding the girl’s slit seemed as though they were parted to allow a clear view of her sex. Allette could not think of a more vulnerable position for a girl to be in.

She was riveted to the spectacle before her. She had never seen another woman naked and certainly not from such a lascivious angle. Her eyes could not leave the sight of the wispy strawberry blond hairs that began to glisten with the girl’s juices.

CRACK! The sound and sight of the rod crashing into the girl made her jump. Eyes wide, she saw Ruphus holding a cane and bringing it back for another blow. CRACK! It seemed like the cane would shatter under the force of the impact. Misty’s nether cheeks began to show bright red lines where the rod had claimed its mark.

Again and again and again the cane whistled through the air. Again and again it came down on the maid’s exposed ass. Sometimes it struck the unprotected sex, sometime the thighs. Allette could hear the girl cry out, broken sobs and ragged breath echoed in the room. The girl’s ass and thighs became a bright, angry red and swollen bruises began to form on her cheeks. The harsh, deep lines of the cane stood out in stark relief against delicate smooth skin. And still the cane rose and fell.

After a seeming eternity, Misty was released and instructed to clean up her spill. Her tiny uniform did nothing to conceal the bright red burning of her ass and legs as she crawled across the floor pulling up tiny shards of china.

The shirt had not been able to withstand the girl’s writhing and had released its burden. Taught breasts and hard nipples hung freely as she crawled from shard to shard, in all ways exposed and her punishment exhibited.

Lord Marlton had returned to his papers. He had not even watched.

“ENOUGH!” Allette slammed to her feet. “You…. You…. Perverts! Freaks and perverts all! HOW DARE YOU? HOW. DARE. YOU?” She whirled on Lord Marlton who was placidly eating his steak and looked at her as though she were a screaming baby of little importance.

“You insult my staff, my dear. ” He growled quietly at her. “And you do so at your own peril. ”

Allette did not heed the warning in his voice; she was outraged and unable to stop.

“This so called ‘staff’ of yours is nothing more than a collection of depraved whores and … and…. and… SLUTS! This unforgivable lewd display of flesh is … is…. unforgivable. ” She knew she was beginning to babble but it was suddenly all too much. Her mother, being sold, the bath, all of the nudity, the caning, it all came out in a rush and she tried not to scream. “I refuse to be in the same house with this… carnival side show!” On the last three words, she lost her battle and shrieked.

Lord Marlton looked at her for a long silent time. “Very well,” he stated matter-of -factly. “Ruphus, the lady wishes to not see any servants, therefore none shall see her. Remove her things. ”

Allette was confused by the reaction, but the other servants came to take away her food and place settings.

“What is the meaning of this?!” she demanded.

“Giving you your wish, my dear. As my servants created and brought the meal, I remove all evidence of them for you. In fact, you shall no longer see any evidence of their having seen you at all. ”

Bereft of words Allette turned and fled back to her rooms.

Chapter Four

Alone

Allette awoke after a restless night of dreams. They were disjointed, confusing images of shadowy figures moving ghost-like around her bed, whispering sub-audible secrets as they examined her from lofty heights. Something dark moved in front of her dream memory and then nothing.

There was a foul, almost medicinal taste in the back of her mouth she fought to clear. In the darkness, she reached over to the side table and fumbled for the bell to summon a maid. Her hand stopped in mid reach as the events of last night’s dinner replayed in her sleep enshrouded mind. The maid assigned to her – was that Misty? Had she caused the punishment and humiliation of her own maid?

While she hesitated, other sensations began making their way through her waking senses. Her hand quickly returned to her own body and confirmed what she was beginning to feel. She was naked and lying atop the bed uncovered. Her fingers sought the blankets beneath her and found only a bare mattress, and not the soft down-filled monstrosity she had fallen onto angry the night before.

This was a thin, stiff mattress and small enough that she could feel the outer edges. The room felt wrong, musty and stuffy, like the windows had been closed for too long a time. Franticly now she sought the bell, but her questing fingers found only a candle and three small sulfur-tipped matches. With trembling fingers, she struck one along the edge of the candle holder, it flared and died at once. The second match held a flame long enough to touch to the wick of the candle.

The room she was in was the size of her mother’s wine cellar: ten feet from wall to the one heavy door, six feet wide, devoid of windows. It barely fit the bed, the nightstand and her. There were no sheets, blankets, towels or curtains in the room, not a single scrap of cloth by which to cover her nakedness. Even the lumpy old mattress she was on offered no solutions. It was nearly rotted with age and covered in dust and old stains.

Fully awake, she leapt off the mattress. She had been imprisoned! Left to rot here in a dungeon, forgotten behind a sealed door! Grabbing the candle stick holder, she flew to the door, part of her mind noting the thick webs in the corner and the layers of dust her bare feet stirred and … dear Lord, where those rat droppings in the corner?

Holding the candle in her left hand, she pounded the fist of her right on the solid wooden door, screaming. Her hand grasped the latch to throw her body backward, in a desperate attempt to break free.

The door was not locked. It swung open easily, overbalancing her and she fell in the dust and the webs. The candle dropped from her fingers and went out, leaving her in total darkness, her naked and vulnerable sex openly displayed to whatever lay beyond the door.

She scrambled back to the bed by touch, striking her head sharply on the edge of the nightstand. It shook as she crouched in the darkness, holding her injury and she heard the remaining match roll off and hit the floor.

Frantically she searched for it, touching the detritus under her, praying the tip of the match had not broken in the fall. She found it and forced herself to be still. If this one did not light, or if it died like the first, she would be lost in the blackness. She did not believe she would survive that and be sane.

Carefully, she dragged the match head over the rough surface of the candle holder and held her breath as the light of the match flared, died and tenuously hung to the thin wood. Her fingers trembled, threatening the tiny hope that clung to the match. She set it to the wick and the light went out, the stygian darkness taking over again. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes but then the wick began to glow. Breathless, she watched the flame lengthen and reach upward. Shielding the delicate flame, she turned to see what lay beyond the door in the darkness.

The pool of light thrown from the candle wavered and flickered with her every movement. The shadows jumped and cavorted at her as she raised the single flame high and tried to see past the door. Barrels stood silent sentinel at the entrance, row after row of them stacked in pillars higher than her head. Careful not to risk the precious light, she walked as quickly as she could through the rows, with each step fancying that she could hear rats scuttling around her feet, though none dared the light in her trembling hand.

She padded silently down the silent round monoliths and saw before her a staircase of sorts. It was solid as though carved from the very rock. There was a slide next it, a chute no doubt used to move the barrels up and down. At the head of the stair, there was a door, but the chute veered sharply to the right and ended in a large set of double doors. These were tightly bound with chain.

She climbed the stairs thinking to her herself that this must be the locked door, this had to be where she discovered the limits of her imprisonment. Glancing at her candle, she estimated she had maybe an hour left of light and then she would be entombed in the absolute blackness of a cellar buried under a mansion.

She placed a trembling hand on the latch, mindful of her last frantic attempt. This door opened away from her, pushing instead of pulling. The latch clicked easily and the door swung away from her on protesting hinges.

The light that streamed in blinded her and she had to stand still and close her eyes against the contrasting brilliance. She saw windows set high in the room, providing the light. She was in a corner of the great house; the ramp apparently had veered to an outside loading area.
Here too were racks for supplies and materials, the sort of thing a great house like this would require for day to day operations, but here, at least, the room was clean and the floor dusted. The light streaming in made the area downright cheery by comparison to the cellar. But the shelves were empty.

The pantry, as Allette realized it must be, opened into a kitchen. Here the great stove stood cold and empty. The huge table was bare and from the great hearth hung empty pots. Every cupboard was empty and scrubbed clean; any linen that might have been useful for covering herself was gone. Even the towels the cooks would have used to lift and move hot kettles had mysteriously disappeared.

She went to the pump at the sink, and with a few deft strokes had running water. At least she would not die of thirst. She washed her mouth and took several deep draughts. A long inspection of the kitchen revealed nothing useful, and the eeriness of the empty house began to affect her.
She held the door close to her body and peered into the next room. It contained serving trays, carts, dishes and all the requisite paraphernalia to serve properly. The shelves which would have held the linens to cover the carts or drape over an arm were likewise empty.

Allette realized that she was deliberately being kept from clothing herself, but the lack of servants made it bearable … servants. The growled words of Lord Marlton from the night before echoed in her memory: “In fact, you shall no longer see any evidence of their having seen you at all. ”

The servants had left. This was some sort of punishment for her insolence. Allette threw one of the silver trays, letting it ring against the marble floor. Damn them, damn them all! If they thought that this would cower her, she would prove them wrong! She pushed the next door open with a vengeance and strode into the dining room. Stalking the rest of the wing, she rifled every room and even tried to tear down curtains, but Marlton’s staff knew their work too well.

Several hours later, she had sprawled in a chair somewhere in the confusing warren of the mansion, naked, hot, dirty, and hungry. There was no food in the house, no usable clothing. Every bedroom she came upon had been stripped bare, in many cases even the mattresses removed. She entertained the idea of seeing if any of the barrels held anything other than spirits, but the thought of returning to that dark dingy pit made her shudder.

She still had not found the room she had been assigned, and had no idea if her clothing was still there or not.

She had come to the conclusion that there was no one in the house, so it was futile to worry about being seen. On the other hand, she avoided the doors to the outside assiduously. That night she slept as she had before, on a bare mattress, but this time in a room as high in the building as she could find.

Morning found her situation unchanged, but there was now a new problem. Throughout her life, Allette had been taught to use a chamber pot which was magically whisked away and emptied and cleaned for the next use. The pots in this house had gone with the linens. She relieved herself by straddling the great sink in the kitchen and ran water from the pump to drain it away, but not only was it humiliating, it would not solve the issue when her bowels demanded purging.

This necessitated that she brave the outdoors in her natural state and find relief in the open.

As day followed day, she hunted through the wing of the mansion, as the rest appeared to be blocked off. Once she thought she had found her room, though all her clothing was gone, but a little while later she found its exact twin. Confused and bewildered, the house seemed to take on evil proportions as though the brick and mortar conspired to drive her mad. Hunger gnawed at her belly, the dust and dirt clung to her skin and her hair became a bedraggled knotted mess.

Worse than any of these trials was the searing emptiness: the silence of the huge edifice. Allette was completely alone and completely vulnerable. She fought to keep track of the days and lost. One day, she stumbled across a crust of stale bread left out in a room. She devoured it; her stomach thought it was a feast.

She came across a thin cloth, trapped under table. She pulled it out and looked at it, not able to remember why she had been seeking such a cloth to begin with. It slipped through her nerveless fingers and pooled onto the floor.

She had been through the wing of the house three times, each room standing the way she left it, or if there were changes, it was only her mind playing tricks on her. She began to doubt her own thoughts. More than once she chased through the house in pursuit of voices she almost heard but could not quite comprehend.

Any exit to the outside world was sealed shut. She didn’t know if the vast maze of rooms and passageways was the entire structure of Morlton’s family estate or not, but the grounds seemed to be off limits to a frail naked girl.

Staggering through the vast library, she imagined she saw Lord Marlton standing there, looking at her. Allette stopped, her heart pounding. Was this madness? If she was to hallucinate, why him? Yet he looked so real. The stern gaze, the arrogant bearing was all….

Allette ran to him, throwing her arms and legs around the solid reality of him. She would have welcomed the devil himself after so long denied the company of others. He stood unmoved under her wracking sobs.

She clung to him fiercely; terrified that he too would prove to be another illusion. His hands curled on her arms, pressing her away, digging into the tender flesh. Tears sprang from her eyes for the first time since waking in the cellar. He was real!

“You wanted to be free of my servants; I have provided this for you. ” He said without preamble. “Now I return to my home and I bring my servants with me. No longer do you have free reign here. You are to be put out, today. You are to be sent from me and my home, naked into the woods or fields or wherever you go. Your mother’s payments are suspended, your family returns to poverty. ” He shoved her hard and she crumbled in a heap to the floor.

“I have no use for you. ” He said coldly, as though judging a lame horse or misshapen chair. “My servants are my family; see if yours want you back. ”

Allette crumpled on the floor. His displeasure was like a whip, her arrogance and outrage were too far away, and she could not reach the indignation that had carried her so far and so long. Only the coldness of solitude and the darkness of the cellar answered her plea.

She placed her head on the carpet, tears cascading down her face.

“I…” her voice had not been used for a long time, it felt rusty and painful. “I am so sorry,” she gasped between sobs. Again and again she sniffled out her apologies, not knowing what else to say, her mind in a torment of dismal failure and self loathing. She had been so angry that she was sold to this man, thought of no better than a beast. And now she was faced with the inescapable conclusion that she was unable to even meet that criterion. Even as a beast she was a disgrace.

Her family would suffer for it, and Allette’s own standing would not improve. She would still be anathema to the polite society which would scorn her mother and dismiss her brothers and sisters.

Her body convulsed under the pressure of her despair, her forehead dragging roughly over the carpet.

“Out. ” Marlton commanded. “Get out now. ”

“Please…. ” She whispered

Marlton’s hands grabbed her hair roughly and pulled her to her feet. Her neck arched back painfully, her face forced up to the ceiling, he marched her through the house. Her legs collapsed under her and his hand swung down to strike her upturned ass hard. She yelped and flew forward, landing on her breasts and stomach painfully. When he could not rouse her again, he reached down, picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

With a mounting terror, she recognized the front entrance as he carried her through the house. The doors opened in his wake and she could make out the figures of Ruphus and another servant holding them open.

They seemed to all be gathered there in the courtyard, men and women in a flurry of activity. Marlton threw her down on the cobbles hard, her hip bruising under the fall. She lay sprawled before the entire staff, none of whom would so much as glance at her.

Lord Marlton’s face was red and flushed with anger. He raised one booted foot as though to kick the naked girl. Allette curled into a ball and screamed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! It was my fault, I kicked the chair, I made Misty drop the china, it wasn’t her it was me and I’m sooooorrrrryyyyyy. ” The final word ended in a wail.

“MISTY!” Marlton’s bellow deafened the quivering girl at his feet. Within moments, a long pair of legs appeared in Allette’s vision. “You heard?” He growled at his maid.

“Yes Master. ”

“For this matter I appoint you to speak for the staff, you were the one injured. What is your judgment?”

Allette felt the collective intake of breath, the cessation of all activity as the staff waited for the judgment of one maid.

Allette moved before she could think, she clung desperately to the girls feet, aware only that her life and her family’s now hung in the balance of someone she had barely noticed.

“I think she can be taught, Master. ”

Marlton pulled Allette’s hair again to force her to look into his eyes. She could not release the maid’s legs; it was her life line to sanity and safety.

“We will see,” Marlton intoned. “And if she cannot, Misty, you will share in her fate. She belongs to you now. ” Without another word, he turned and stormed back into the mansion, leaving Allette at the feet of her new mistress.

Chapter Five

The Servants

Allette heard the boots crunching the gravel in measured strides approaching her supine form. Fearing The Master’s return, she curled up tighter against Misty’s feet, like a terrified child clinging to its mother. She dared risk a glance through the curtain of her matted and filthy hair and her blood ran like ice through her veins.

Ruphus approached her new mistress. Allette found she was more frightened of this man than she was of The Master. As loud and volatile as The Master was, His majordomo was cold and distant. Ruphus saw her looking at him and his lip curled in contempt. Allette saw herself as he must have seen her. Scrawny from days without food … how many had it been? Filthy, naked, matted, like a stray dog a child can’t bear to release. Allette fought the urge to whimper but it escaped her lips anyway

Misty tried to move to face her superior, but Allette had tangled her feet and made it impossible for Misty to turn. A gesture from Ruphus and two large men came and lifted Allette from the ground. They were surprisingly gentle considering they had to fight to loosen her grip on the maid.

They held her upright between them, mewling sounds came from her throat despite her efforts to contain them. If The Master despised her; Ruphus abhorred her as evidenced by the looks he gave. Of them all only Misty had shown kindness and that after Allette had caused her such vile punishment.

Freed of the weeping girl, the chamber maid knelt on the rough stones before her superior. She reached gently for the penis protruding from the opening of the man’s pants, lifted it and kissed its tip. She set it back and laced her fingers behind her head.

“Sir,” she said quietly, her eyes downcast, “Master wishes…”

“MASTER WISHES…. ” Ruphus spoke loudly over the girl “TO RID HIMSELF OF A BAD INVESTMENT. And so he would have, removing that” his finger shot accusingly at the cringing girl held up as though for inspection, “… along with the rest of the day’s trash, but for your interference!”

Misty whispered, “Yes, sir” and leaned over to kiss the rising tip of his manhood again. “I am sorry sir. ”

“Where it up to me, she would be shaven head to foot and ejected naked into the world, the arrogant, spoiled bitch. ” Ruphus paused and took a deep breath. “However, Master has chosen to join your fate to hers and you have been and exemplarily member of this staff.” The words “until now” hung unspoken in the air.

“I warn you though,” Ruphus continued in a voice like ice, “if she is shaven and ejected so shall you be. Her fate is yours, so in this matter, I shall acquiesce to Master’s wishes. What would you do with this … girl?” Ruphus paused as though trying hard to find a charitable word to replace the one he had been thinking. “Girl” was as good as he was able to manage.

“Sir,” Misty began and choked a little. Allette wondered if the enormity of what the maid had taken on had only just sunk in. “Sir, may I request that as her offence was to the staff at large that she be remanded to us all?”

“If you think to lessen your responsibility by foisting this brat on the entire staff you are mistaken!”

“No Sir, I did not mean that, I was requesting the use of the hall, Sir. ” Misty spoke quickly.

Ruphus stood still, a monolith against the brooding backdrop of the dark stone castle. His face pulled together as though he smelled something foul. Considering how Allette had recently lived, he probably had. “Can she be taught to behave in polite society?” His tone suggested some doubt, but a willingness to accept that even a mongrel could be shown a few tricks.

Allette tried again to reach for the indignation she had once felt, the pride that buoyed her and comforted her. The familiar outrage was there again, she could feel it now. She began to pull it around her like a cloak and opened her mouth to fire back at the arrogant bastard but choked on her reply. Misty was looking at her from the corner of her eye, it was a look of abject fear.
Allette said nothing, hung her head and waited for her instructions.

Responding to some command she could not see or hear she was lowered t her knees between the men. Ruphus stepped up to her, his swelling shaft pointed to her face like an accusation. “We will begin simply, then,” he said, grabbing her hair, “let us see if she can greet someone politely. ”

Allette had never been this close to man’s exposed sex. The little experience she’d had in the hayloft, she had not even seen the boy’s penis. Now she was commanded to kiss one. As it approached her, it continued to swell, standing up from his muscular body as though waking up with its prey in sight. Instinctively Allette pulled away.

The sound of flesh being hit hard echoed through the courtyard. Allette heard Misty scream and whirled to see the cane Ruphus perpetually carried with him in the hands of another man who enjoyed this new duty. Misty’s buttocks glowed with a red stripe where it had impacted her smooth skin and Allette knew that it would leave bruises. Again the cane rose and fell. Misty cried out again as the cane crashed into her. Allette fairly leapt forward to place her lips at the end of Ruphus’ erect member. Misty took another blow and her scream made Allette press her lips harder against the spongy head.

Ruphus turned to the man holding his cane and waved him to Allette. “Your fates are bound.”

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