Hampshire, England 1872.

“The little slut was so frightened that she peed herself,” Roger Brampton said proudly and sniggered, “She was standing in the hallway as I walked down the staircase toward her. The girl was trembling, her head and gaze downcast; she was so terrified of facing me that she actually wet her knickers.”

All of the six men present laughed loudly and heartily, their faces becoming flushed as their interest and excitement grew. They took advantage of the pause in the story to refill their brandy glasses and to light their cigars. The ageing ex-general belched loudly and then lifted his glass in toast.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” he said politely but was obviously unrepentant. “The result of a most excellent dinner. My compliments to you Angus.”

The ‘Tale Tellers,’ as they had become known, were enjoying their monthly meeting in the usual customary setting. Six landowners; wealthy and all with some standing in society, would meet to relate their sexual experiences, this month the subject being their own housemaids. Fine port and brandy, the tastiest of dinners and only the best Havana cigars were supplied in plenty by each of the hosts in turn, all served by equally delectable little housemaids. Held each month in a different location, at the house of one of the members, all took their turn on a rotating basis to both fund and to provide the evening’s entertainment. The rules of the club were simple, no lies, no exaggerating or embellishments, simply true facts as they happened and nothing more. The story to be told had to be precise and in full detail, related honestly so as to satisfy the gentlemanly membership of the club.

The young man seated at the head of the long polished dinner table, nodded his acceptance of the compliment and then looked to the speaker, Roger Brampton, to continue.

Brampton lounged back in his chair, crossed his legs casually and took up the story once again.

“My wife, the lady of the manor, was experiencing some difficulties with the servants. She had spoken to me on the subject only the previous night over dinner, asking if I would reprimand the young girl in question. The girl is a half-wit, of little schooling and lacking in the worldly ways but she possesses a shape of body that any man would desire.”

A low growl of approval came from Horton McLain; he tapped the ash off his cigar and gulped at his brandy.

“What had the girl done?”

Brampton gave an expression of uncertainty.

“Dropped some dishes or some such thing, I don’t actually recall the details of her incompetence.”

“But the sexual details you must surely remember,” Ezra Clunes slurred greedily and licked his lips.

Brampton smiled and nodded, his tone emphatic.

“Of that you can be assured.”

“Go on, Roger,” Angus urged, “I can’t wait to hear more of the wet gusset of the little slut’s panties.”

His remark brought forward a loud round of laughter that then subsided enough for the story to continue.

“Prior to this I had never even considered sexual activity with the staff. Certainly some of the little bitches possessed tempting little bodies but liaisons with one’s staff?”

He paused to shake his head.

“However, the mistress of the house ordered the young slut to be in the hallway at the appointed time. To be punished for her clumsiness and to incur the wrath of the master of the house.”

He chuckled softly, his shoulders shaking with his mirth. Brampton undid his bow tie and loosened his shirt collar.

“My wife related to me afterwards how the girl had wept and pleaded, fearful of losing her job and of having to face me.”

“Exactly so,” the general muttered in agreement.

Brampton paused to sip his brandy.

“The mistress was out for the evening, attending a dinner party at the vicarage I seem to recall. I had returned from London only that very afternoon, looking forward to a weekend of shooting, riding and relaxation.”

“And did you?” Ezra Clunes asked smiling, “Get to ride the housemaid?”

His remark drew a round of sniggers from the other guests.

“Patience Ezra,” the host scolded playfully, “It is Roger’s story, let him tell it his way.”

Brampton slipped off his dinner jacket, hung it over the back of his chair and puffed at his cigar.

“I had bathed and changed, was looking forward to a hearty evening dinner alone. Pork with apple sauce gentlemen, one luxury that I partake of whenever I possibly can. My wife is not partial to sweet sauces with meat and therefore I am rarely able to indulge myself.”

“Yes, yes,” Charles Wesley said in irritation, “Forget the bloody dinner details and get onto the telling of the little slut will you.”

Roger Brampton’s expression became serious, his stare fixed and beads of perspiration showed on his brow.

“My cock was stiff as I stood at the top of the stairs looking down. The full sexual possibilities of the situation hit me for the very first time. My cock responded to the pumping urge pounding through me.”

The room had fallen silent; all were waiting with baited breath, imagining themselves in just such a situation.

“I felt so powerful and commanding as I stood there. Me, the master of the house and her a snivelling little wretch of a servant girl in fear of me. I did, gentlemen, stand there for some many minutes, savouring the heady feel and the pounding thrill of that time. My cock throbbed incessantly, a dull throbbing ache that produced for me the hardest of erections that I had ever attained.”

Angus cleared his throat and gulped at his drink. Brampton paused to sip at his brandy and then continued.

“She stood there at the bottom of the stairs, her head down and eyes averted. I took in the slim shapely legs coated in black stockings and, I am ashamed to say, found myself having real sexual thoughts about my servant girl for the very first time.”

Brampton’s voice dropped in volume and pitch to a low and throaty tone that portrayed his rising excitement.

“We were alone in the house, my wife out and the other servants off duty and in their quarters, that fact excited me all the more, gentlemen. I found myself imagining what her shape would be like beneath her uniform, neat and well formed I imagined, her body firm and fresh, so vibrant and so youthful. The neat nipped waist and lower back, her flat firm stomach and rounded hips. Her little breasts would be rounded and firm I guessed, symmetrical and perfect, her nipples hard and erect, sticking out as little buds of tempting desire. Little pink rosebuds not yet fully in flower and simply waiting to be smelled and touched by the hands and the mouth of a man for the very first time.”

“Oh God,” Ezra Clunes muttered wistfully.

Brampton cleared his throat and lifted his voice a little as his excitement rose further still. He used his right hand to shift his hardening cock to one side.

“A vision of her taut rounded buttocks came to me, of her slender upper thighs so creamy white, so soft and inviting. Her silky smooth buttocks encased in the soft material of her cami-knickers, the material clinging to every contour of her young body and pulling up into the crease of her mounds. Of her wispy pubic hair and her cute little pussy lips so freshly innocent and untouched. I imagined, gentlemen, her lying back on the bed with her knees drawn up and parted to…”

“I can too,” Horton McLain said excitedly and gained muttered agreement from the others present.

That comment signalled a natural pause to refill the glasses. The action was completed quickly and Brampton waited until all were done and that he again had their full attention.

“My cock was throbbing so much that it almost hurt. As I descended the stairs slowly, I experienced such a high level of thrill that my anus gripped in spasm. Step by step I moved downward, deliberately slowly so as to add to the little slut’s fear. Authoritative I have always been but what I sensed then, at that moment, surpassed all that I had every known. It was, gentlemen, the ultimate charge, the pinnacle of feeling and being in command.”

Brampton removed his tie completely and laid it carefully on the polished table.

“She stood with her hands clasped behind her back, her head hanging down with her chin on her chest, looking to the floor. She was trembling visibly, whimpering softly and her cheeks flushed rosy pink.”

Brampton paused to re-cross his legs and to settle himself comfortably. His voice strained a little to portray the difficulty of his admission.

“At this point gentlemen I must tell you that, my wife and I, have not for some time now… Well, been… Active together in sexual matters.”

“Nor I,” Ezra Clunes encouraged, “And who would be with a dragon like mine eh?”

His comment raised much laughter, lightening the situation and easing the embarrassing tension for the speaker.

Brampton continued.

“For the first time I fully appreciated the hugging black dress of her uniform, bedecked with white lace at the cuffs and collar. The way her little starched apron pulled in around her slim waist, tautly across and under her chest to clearly show the swell of her pert breasts. The little lace head cap and her fresh young features brought thoughts to me I would previously have dismissed outright or would never even have considered. I have to say gentlemen, that she looked absolutely adorable.”

Wistful sighs came from two of the men, one rubbed at his groin to ease his erection a little.

“On reaching the fifth step from the bottom her shoulders began to shake and her sobbing was most heartfelt and deep. The little slut began to weep uncontrollably, her tears running down over her burning cheeks. At first gentlemen, I hadn’t realised what was happening, I had assumed it was simply her great fear only as she blurted out great pitiful sobs and her face took on a crimson redness. Then!” He stated loudly to cause the general to start in surprise at the sharp increase in volume. Brampton’s voice lowered again, to a soft and velvety smoothness. His eyes were wide with excitement and his brow now fully coated with perspiration. “The flow began. A trickle at first, running down the inside of her thigh to her knee and then down on over her leg and into her shoe.”

He paused to sit forward and rest his arms on the table, his own face now flushed and his voice thick and throaty.

“That flow increased to a positive gush, a constant stream of her urine dripping and running from beneath her skirts to soak her stockings and legs and to puddle on the polished boards of the hall floor.”

“Fantastic!” Charles Wesley said emphatically.

“That act gentlemen had an effect on me so profound so as to cause my cock to leak lubricant and to change my view of the servants forever more. It increased my sense of power over her as I stepped down onto the hall floor beside her. She had given me now another reason for which to reprimand her…”

“And a most excellent one too,” someone said.

“I felt alive with sexual thrill, my heart pounding, my cock throbbing and my ball sac tight and full. I needed it gentlemen, I needed to have sex with the little slut.”

Moans of agreement were heard from the men as they muttered their understanding.

“I circled her slowly, my chest pushed out, deliberately silent as the little wretch sniffed and sobbed in her shame. I leaned in close to her to bring my face close to her ear and this, gentlemen, is how the scene unfolded.

‘“Dirty little girl,” I hissed in disgust and felt my cock give an involuntary jolt.

‘“Please, master,’ she sobbed, ‘I’m so frightened.’”

“Huh!” I dismissed, “You are an evil little trollop that has committed a foul and disgusting act. She simply sobbed her shame and humiliation at the floorboards to which she looked. I circled her again, taking in the soft creamy skin of her long neck, her delicate little ears and the nape of her neck at the back. I imagined myself caressing them and kissing them, as the little slut lay naked next to me in my bed. I imagined the warm feel of her firm young body pressing against me and of pushing my cock up into her tight little tunnel. ”

“Oh God,” McLain muttered hoarsely.

“’To the basement with you slut!’ I raved and pointed with my extended arm.”

Brampton chuckled.

“The little wretch gathered her skirts higher up her kneed and literally ran in her haste to comply. Behind her on the floorboards she left a trail of drips, a trail of her…”

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