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My lady descends to become a railwaymans hostel whore
An old story reprised.

Note All characters are entirely ficticious and my apologies of any family or company names have inadvertently been used

My Lady's Descent, the Butlers Tale.

I was idly cleaning some silverware. The sun was shining through the drawing room windows. The lawns stretched away towards the lake with its island and folly while a gardener snipped ineffectually away at the lawn edges. It was an ordinary summers day.

Mr Harrison my lord's stock broker and adviser arrived just after luncheon, he asked no demanded to see my lady with the utmost urgency.

"But sir, my lady is resting," I explained, knowing she was most likely with one Lieutenant Carruthers her latest dalliance.

I went to seek her, I went upstairs to her room and knocked decorously, and then as one does I listened intently.

"Oh yes," she was gasping, "Oh that's sooo good, don't stop."

"There's someone knocking," a man's voice hissed.

"Mr Harrison wishes an audience my lady," I explained through the closed door.

"Then have him wear a funny wig and appear at the Adelphi!" the man joked.

"Johnny," my lady whispered, "Look its Gerald's banker, I had better go," and she shouted "Just a moment!"

Amazingly quickly my lady appeared at the door, a vision of golden curls and vermillion chiffon, spoiled only by smeared lipstick.

"My Lady," I explained, "Your lip stick?"

"Oh," she said, "Don't be so damned impertinent!" but she still looked in the mirror and repaired the damage with a napkin.

"Good chap, mums the word?" Carruthers said as he followed her from the room while smoothing his cricket jersey down and taking his wallet from his white cricket trousers he tucked a ten shilling note in my top pocket, "See myself out, back way." and he slipped away, the very epitome of a lounge lizard, or should that be lounge snake.

I left him to his deceit and deception, no doubt the regiment thought he was elsewhere, perhaps he was at cricket and had himself bowled out to spare half an hour for cuckolding but perhaps his enormous ego would not allow him to appear less than a superman at the crease but he was certainly most unworthy of my lady's affections.

My lady swept downstairs, "Mister Harrison, what a pleasant surprise!" she simpered.

"I fear not Lady Saltcoats," he said, "Can we speak privately?"

"The study is available my lady," I suggested.

"He means bugger off Holdford!" my lady hissed.

"Alford my lady," I corrected, "Certainly my lady."

"Go on then!" she hissed and she ushered me away.

I went to the kitchen, I sat on my stool, Mrs Bridge the cook stood at the sink, "Trouble Mr Alford?" she asked.

I looked at her, heavy breasted, round shouldered and old before her time, "None of our business Mrs Bridges," I said using the courtesy title of Mrs despite the fact she had never married and was likely a virgin, with little prospect of losing that distinction.

"If you say so sir!" she said sarcastically.

I let it go and then suddenly my lady shouted "No!"

I stood and rushed to the study and flung the door wide. My lady was aghast, but stood yards from Harrison, "No, it cannot be so!" she cried.

"What have you done sir?" I demanded, "My lady is distraught!"

"Not I," he said, "I accept no blame."

"For what?" I asked.

"Lord Saltcoats has been declared bankrupt," Harrison explained, "Receivers have been appointed, my lord has seven calendar days to vacate these premises, meanwhile all bank accounts are frozen."

"What do you mean?" I demanded.

"Household accounts, all that sort of thing," he explained, "It's the stock market, and reinsurance, high finance, you wouldn't understand."

I should have hit him for his insult, but how was he to know my true character? Instead I congratulated myself on blending so subtly into the fabric of the country house.

"There will be some residue surely, the London residence?" I asked.

"Mortgaged," he said, "And remortgaged, liabilities vastly exceed the assets."

"Then why let this happen!" I queried.

"None of your business," he said, "But I had no idea, none at all, I merely manage his lordship's investment portfolio, of course we made heavy losses, but no more than anyone else, less than many, it's not my fault he started meddling in insurance, none at all!"

"What does it mean, where will we go!" my lady demanded.

The telephone rang, in an automatic reflex I went to the entrance hall to answer it.

"Rainsford House, Lord Saltcoats residence," I answered automatically.

"Alford, is that Alford?" someone demanded.

"Indeed," I agreed.

"Right look its Ted Griggs here," he said, " His lordship's London chauffeur , I got some bad news."

"Indeed?" I queried.

"Look tell Mrs Bridges that Lord Saltcoats, has disappeared," he said.

"Disappeared, no he's gone bankrupt." I said.

"Well I dropped him off at Victoria around ten o'clock this morning and they said to go home when I got back, I reckon he legged it to France on the Flesh de Whore," he meant the Golden Arrow train, "What do you mean bankrupt?" he demanded, "Oh damn, I ain't got no more pennies tell Mrs Bridges," he said after the telephone pinged and suddenly it went dead Brrrrrrr.

"It seems his lordship has left left us," I said as I returned.

"Only decent thing," Harrison agreed, "Gun or noose?"

"The train ferry to France!" I corrected.

"Oh the total shit!" my lady cried.

"Indeed my lady," I agreed and I slipped away.

Generally private use of his lordship's telephone was grounds for instant dismissal but I no longer cared, and throwing caution to the wind I booked a call to my bank in Liverpool where they were keeping my "Family Silver," in their safety deposit.

"Alford!" my lady protested when she saw me at the telephone when I should have shown Mr Harrison out, but I ignored her.

She flew at me afterwards, "How dare you!" she said, "Collect your things you are dismissed forthwith!"

"And how shall you pay me what you owe?" I demanded, "You cannot."

"I can dismiss you with nothing!" she said, "No payment, no reference, no character!"

"Indeed?" I queried, "Well perhaps you can pay me."

"No! take your things and go!" she said.

"Perhaps you could pay me the way you pay Lieutenant Carruthers and a few more I might mention!" I suggested.

"No, Rape!" she wailed and she rushed towards her room.

I followed, I caught her at the doorway and pushed her inside pausing only to bolt the door.

"No!" she said, "Well at least let me undo the hooks, this cost an absolute fortune."
"Of course," I said, "Allow me."

She sat on the bed as I unfastened her dress, "Be careful," she pleaded and then she stood and it fell around her feet.

Her well rounded breasts bulged over her red corset, her red knickers enclosed by the suspender straps, and she stood up and laid the dress carefully on the dresser.

"That's better," she said and she screamed, "Rape," again several times.

"Ot would appear the US cavalry is otherwise engaged my lady," I observed as I removed my highly polished black shoes to reveal well worn black socks with protruding big toes, which I hurriedly removed, "Does Lieutenant Carruthers remove his shirt and under shirt madam?" I asked.

"No, though it is none of your business," she declared, "Rape!" she shouted again.

I removed my jacket and shirt front, slipped the cardboard collar off and removed my undershirt.

"Good lord," she gulped, "Alford," and then I unbuttoned my flies and removed trousers and underpants in a single motion.

"God, you are pleased to see me aren't you!" she exclaimed as she gazed at my manhood as it strained, "Right," she said as she snapped her suspenders away from her stockings and pushed her knickers down before kicking them off her feet.

"Rape," she shouted again and then, "Oh well, you won't hurt me will you, and there are some johnny's in the dressing table.

"They spoil the moment my lady," I explained, "I shall mount you as the good lord intended."

It was nearly a week since my last night off, spent with two buxom whores in the town a wearisome ten long miles away by bicycle, and my need was great, and her protests were little but tokens.

"Don't hurt me," she asked again as I gripped her waist as I planted my knees firmly between hers and blindly aimed my manhood at her.

"Hey," she said, "Not there, let me," and she guided my straining manhood between her unseen cunt lips and took me to heaven.

"Do something then," she insisted.

"What?" I asked as I luxuriated in the feel of her moist cunt gripping me.

"I don't know, but it's not very exciting for me." she declared.

I thrust against her, "Better?" I asked.

"Much!" she said, "And again, that's better," she said, "Oh you're so big," she said, "Fuck me, you're going to prison for this so enjoy yourself!"

I started to think of her as a whore, a beautiful golden haired high class whore, and then I remembered the smeared lipstick and I determined to sample her lips as well and I dipped my lips to caress hers.

Her tongue emerged instantly, running around my teeth, my mind exploded and so did my cock jerking and pumping and flooding her parts, and as our mouths parted she was gasping and muttering, "Oh my god," she said and then we stilled.

"Alford," she said, "What are we going to do?",

"What?" I asked.

"If we're bankrupt" she said, "What are we going to do?"

"What is this ''We' suddenly?" I asked.

"Well, what is it to be Alford, rape or 'we'," she asked quite reasonably.

"We," I said, "My lady."

"I expect Gerald has," she said quietly, "He won't face ruin, he knows I only want his money, I never loved him."

"And the dashing Lieutenant?" I enquired.

"He makes me feel good," she said, "But then to be honest, so do you."

She stretched, "So what is it to be, a nice cold cell or me?"

"What a choice, may I have a moment to think my lady?" I asked.

"Get dressed, we have appearances to maintain," she insisted and she went to dress again.

I too dressed and made my way downstairs, there was a hubbub of voices in the kitchen, I went in, "Mr Alford, or is it My Lord." Binks the head gardener challenged.

"Mr Binks," I replied, "What troubles you?"

"You and her ladyship," he said.

"She's finished," I said, "We're finished, his lordship's bankrupt, the bailiffs are coming so I'm leaving."

"And ladyship," Mrs Bridges asked.

"Don't ask me," I insisted.

"She's leaving with Mr Alford," her ladyship said as she came to stand behind me, "Tonight."

I had no intention of leaving so soon yet there was little point in remaining, "We need to talk," I explained.

"We'll get a hotel room," she suggested, "Do you drive?"

"Yes," I agreed.

"Then we'll take the Rolls," she insisted, "The shooting brake!"

We left that same evening, her luggage stowed in every spare space it that huge crudely overbodied travesty of a luxury car so full that she had to sit beside me, and we made our way north.

"What will you do?" I asked.

"What do you suggest?" she replied.

"Well I doubt cooking or cleaning is to your taste," I suggested, "Whore, prostitute, courtesan?"

"Yes," she agreed, "I have some money, perhaps we could get a room?"

"Perhaps, but for now," I suggested, "Lady Alford and her Chauffeur?"

"Separate beds?" she asked, "I'll call you Alan!"

"One for sleeping and one for work!" I joked.

I couldn't trust her, I never really intended for her to become a whore but could not risk telling her the truth, maybe I should have, but I didn't.

You see three years before my father had made arrangements for me to work in the United States of America, to learn about the American system of banking which seemed so greatly superior to ours, and while there the great crash of 1929 erupted through the whole economic system.
I was working at a medium size city bank as a sort of assistant manager, and I was right there when the run came, and when it came it all seemed to happen all at once.

Ordinary people, regular folks waited in a line right down the street and you didn't need to be a genius to work out we had not even a tenth of the money those people thought they had in their accounts to pay them. We started paying out in the morning and by noon the vault was empty, except that is an innocuous cardboard box of big value bills which somehow found their way in my locker, for safe keeping you understand.

Ted Adams chief cashier and Jim McFadden the manager came down the bank hall all glum faced, "Shut the doors Jim," McFadden said to the guard, "We're gone broke."

That triggered a near riot, I slipped out the back way with my box and in all the confusion I swapped my twenty seven Buick for the janitor's bicycle and coat and I rode off down the street on that bicycle with about a half million dollars in that cardboard box balanced on the cross bar.

I went to the apartment I rented, told Mrs Rafferty the concierge I was leaving and I headed north west towards New York City on the evening train.

So what do you do when you have half a million dollars of someone else's cash? Why get a job of course.

Except the world and his brother was looking for a job, so I bought some furniture, put my box in a sideboard, had it crated and arranged shipment to England on the RMS Mauretania and I sailed home 2nd class.
I had my crate put in storage and looked for a job, told dad I was still in the states, changed my name to Alford and forged some references and worked in Liverpool until I fancied some country air and her ladyship took me on as Butler.

She knew my references were forged, she thought she could sack me any time and that would keep me in line and stop me telling her husband about her lovers.

But now I had half a million dollars to spend, without being noticed.

We found a nice little apartment, it was over a betting shop in the Harrow Road, the estate agent had hundreds of empty properties, we could take our pick.

She had savings, we pawned some of her jewellery, we painted the apartment, bought beds furniture, I had my stuff from Liverpool sent over and we worked like a real team.

Then when we were all ready to open I told her my plan, "Look," I said one evening after a particularly long and gruelling session in bed.

"I know, Mister flopsy is tired, he needs a kiss," she said as she bent to kiss my softened penis.

"My lady, you don't need to sleep with anyone, except me," I explained,"I have about half a million dollars to launder, you just say an eccentric American paid you in dollars."

"But Alan," she said, "We agreed, we did all the work, we were going to get a maid, start small, build up, two or three gentlemen a night to begin with."

"We can just use it as a cover," I explained.

"But you promised two or three men a day," she said angrily, "You promised!"

"But surely you don't want?" I asked.

"And you don't seriously think you satisfy me do you?" she asked, "With Mr Floppy always needing a suck to kick start him, for heavens sake!"

"You want to be a whore?" I said incredulously.

"Yes with you there to protect me," she said, "I expect I could do a gentleman in forty minutes and a servant in ten."

"At the same time?" I queried, "One up the back passage?"

"Possibly," she said, "But you did the sums, even with a few days a month when we need a stand in we will make a killing!"

"But what about us?" I asked.

"Oh, you still get your turn," she said, "But really, seriously," she said, "I need more."

We heard nothing of Lord Saltcoats and so it was that we opened "The Lady's Boudoir" one evening in September 1932.

The name was stencilled on the door beside the betting shop an inside the door we had a booth where the receptionist Lillia sat guarding the bottom of the stairs and then I would greet the gentlemen, take their hats and gloves and stand in attendance in case they needed assistance with dressing and always maintain discretion and moderation.

It sickened me, every day she lay in bed from mid morning till after midnight while a succession of men used her, "Good day sir may I take your hat?" I would ask and get a contemptuous glare in return as gloves were thrown in the hat and the hat handed to me.

We reached agreement for the betting shop to be our waiting room, every day there was my lady, answering to any name under the sun, play acting the sweet heart, legs astride, cunt glistening. teats distended, bathed in sweat like as not and then dragging some half naked gentleman minus trousers and underpants but like as not retaining socks and sock suspenders to her as she grasped his rampant member to aim it within her or suck it to life or completion.

Hairy asses bobbling as they pounded her, time after time, week after week, month after month until every ounce of compassion I had for her was ground to nothing by the friction of crotch upon crotch.

I rented a house for us in Middlesborough terrace so we could get away from her work, but she was always too tired so I had the other bedroom converted to another work room, bare floors and a simple mattress.

They paid extra for the simple mattress, the more soiled it got the better they liked it because it stopped being gentlemen and instead it was anyone who won a bet on the horses.

They all wanted to fuck a fine lady on a soiled mattress.

"Maybe you would prefer standing against a wall in the ginnel?" I asked in a moment of reckless sarcasm.

"And how much extra would that be?" the chap asked quite seriously.

"Double," I said flippantly.

"Then I'll have that!" he agreed.

She used the courtyard, the ginnel was too public and she wore a pair of cogs and a servants smock, sometimes we had three men waiting while a fourth fucked her standing against the wall.

Sometimes Lillia pretended to be the lady, if she remembered to keep her mouth shut, when not clamped around a customer's member that is, she was fine, except it made too much work for me keeping an eye on two whores, taking money and everything.

One night a Irishman asked me to fuck him up the ass while he fucked Lillia. I declined, but it gave me an idea, "So where do you get you're ass fucked?" I asked.

He told me, I out an advert in the window and got ten inquiries in two hours.

I gave Harry the job, he liked nothing better than wearing a skirt with nothing under it, usually he wore a kilt but his geordie accent betrayed him and he relished the idea of ramming his meat up gentlemen's backsides while they shafted our whores.

He seemed entirely capable so I left him to it, and gradually did less and less time at the Boudoir and he became more or less the manager while I planned my next move.

I went to London and became delayed with my affairs and came north again to check on my lady.

She was not there, "Gentlemen want variety sir, I got some new girls in," Harry explained.

"But she was the whole reason!" I pleaded, "Where is she?"

"Blowed if I know sir," he said, "I just thought she were a whore, sir. I never thought she was your special whore."

I went out to seek her, I asked around until I heard of someone living in a hut by the railway and earning a crust from plate layers and the like.

I had to find her and bought a bowler hat and gaberdine coat like a railway official and marched down to the rail yards.

There was no sign of her, but then a lucky stroke, "You going for a jar Tam?" someone asked a driver as his shift ended.

"Och so I will, after I poke the lady," was his reply.

I followed, he went to the engineman's barracks, where the long distance men lodged before returning home, and there I found her naked but for a coat open at the front sitting on an engine man's locker listening to the tales of engines.

"Enginemen only sir," the assistant said politely but firmly.

"I came to see her," I said and pointed, "How are you?"

"Well," she said and she smiled, "Were you worried?" she asked.

"Yes, you were not at the house," I explained.

"That Harry was beastly," she said, "He wanted to charge more, but I just want sex."

"And now?" I asked.

"They are lovely, all these lonely men to comfort," she said, "They make me feel wanted."

I looked at her, her blonde hair seemed to be silvering, her skin once like alabaster now weatherbeaten, "I'll keep an account for your money, you know where to find me," I explained, "Oh Geoffrey turned up," I added, "He's working as a Gigolo in Monte Carlo, maybe you two were made for each other after all."

"Maybe," she admitted but the Scotsman had her in his coal dusted arms and his black hands ran through her hair and his black lips brushed her ruby lips and it was more than I could bear to see.

I hid my tears and left her even as she gasped in approval as her scots lover took her to heaven once more.


2017-05-08 11:48:51
Omg! So beautifully written and so sad all at once - please dont stop writing

anonymous readerReport

2013-09-29 14:45:41
Hmm well I don't know. The syntax isn't quite right here and there, I guess because it's old. It's sad, not sexy, but involving. Interesting, original, and well told. Your pacing is so good.

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