It was just a few years after the great war. I was at my parents house in Hertfordshire cleaning my car in the stable yard following my journey down from London. It was disappointing that my shiny new Vauxhall was now sullied with road grime and I couldn't trust any servants to clean it without breaking something.
“Bertie!" someone shouted, I looked round.
“Stiffy! I replied knowing how much my sisters friend Stephanie hated the nickname.
She scowled, “Freebie is around somewhere.” I suggested.
“Bertie my name is Stephanie and your sister is Phoebe not Freebie as you well know,” Stiffy insisted.
“Yes Stiffy,” I agreed, “Anyway how’s the Lord hunting going?”
Stephanie had yearned to marry a Lord or some such ever since we were children, she pretended to be a Lady when we played together and of course in her games I was the Butler but now aged 24 her search was becoming something of a private joke.
Thank god I had missed the great war, things were just getting back to normal, except the horses had given way to motor cars, at least among the wealthier classes.
“Not too well to be honest,” Stiffy said wistfully, “The clever ones died in France and only the dullards remain.”
“Dull is good, you should employ a gigolo for fun, Lord for the title and,” I offered.
“That’s it they have no money,” she sighed, “Half of them are bankrupt, Bertie, or the families are.”
“Well if you will insist on a title,” I sighed, “What about Wally Branksome?”
“Wally? Dear god you are not serious?” she laughed.
“Well his family does have a lot of property alongside the Great Northern and Metropolitan railways,” I ventured, “Ripe for building houses on, got to be worth a few quid.”.
“Gosh, wow,” Stiffy gasped, “Of course, Wally Branksome, and he is lord something even now before he becomes the Earl.”
“Yes Stiffy,” I joked, “Get a gold band on your finger and bingo you’ll be a bona fide Lady!”
“Good Lord, Oh Bertie you are clever!” she said and she gave me a peck on the cheek.
She wandered off to see my sister Phoebe. An hour later she had devised a plan.
“The Maudsley's have a shoot next weekend,” Stiffy announced, “ Phoebe says Wally will be going.”
“Really?” I replied.
“And you have an invitation,” she added.
“Oh, really, I really don’t like shoots, but if Freebie says so it must be true,” I replied.
“Yes you and a plus one, you can take me!” Stiffy announced.
“But I thought you had your sights on Wally?” I protested.
“It’s not a “Date” it’s a way to get in with Wally, for me to get in with Wally!” Stiffy insisted.
“But I have other plans!” I protested.
“Yes, and I’ll tell your sister about your other plans,” Stiffy threatened.
She meant my flying lessons.
“Oh very well, I’ll take you.” I agreed.
The weekend started on Friday evening, we arrived around six o’clock ready for dinner at eight. I had to bunk in with two other chaps in a room with two pairs of bunk beds, Stiffy with three other girls, this was the norm you understand. For us middle orders, that is. Wally had his own bed room as befits a “Lord”
Dinner was edible, and as ordered I engaged Wally in conversation and I ensured his glass was kept full with Port wine when the Ladies left us after Dinner so he was pretty merry when the girls re appeared around Ten Thirty.
Stiffy applied all her charm, you could see most of her charms through her short thin “Flapper” style dress which left little to the imagination.
I left her to it, had a round of Whist with some chaps and despite her best efforts Stiffy realised that rather than rousing Wally’s passion he actually required regular rousing to avoid him nodding off.
Night approached, people wandered off to bed.
Stiffy approached me surreptitiously, “Help me get Wally to his room,” she ordered rather than asked.
“If I must,” I agreed, “But why?”
“Don’t be so dim, if I spend the night with him he’ll have to make me an offer” (of marriage) she explained as it it was completely obvious instead of completely mad.
So I helped her get him up the stairs, the servants stairs, back stairs, not the main staircase. He was completely insensible, both tired out and drunk
She found his key in his waistcoat pocket and opened his bedroom door. We frog marched him inside and laid him on the bed. He just lay there insensible, fast asleep, snoring like a pig.
“Will you be alright,” I asked.
“Absolutely, get his trousers off would you?” she asked. She at least had the sense to lock the door first.
She had his waistcoat and shirt off and between us we had his shoes and trousers off and laid him onto the bed which was between single and double bed width.
“Good, I’ll stay here and come morning,” Stiffy grinned.
“Great plan except,” I observed, “He is out of it and presumably you are virgo intacto, first thing they will need to see is that you aren’t.”
“And you can’t make out he did it if you are,” I explained, “Just leave him here and go to bed.”
“Damn and blast,” Stiffy snapped, “What if I did it wth someone else.”
“Who exactly? And what if you had a child who then looked looked nothing like Wally.” I suggested.
“Yes tricky,” she agreed, “Dark hair, brown eyes, no odd features,”
“Narrows it down a bit,” I agreed.
“You have Dark hair and brown eyes, and aren’t than different apart from Wally being twice as fat.” she observed.
“Stiffy, what are you saying?” I asked
“I want you to do me so I can say Wally forced me.” Stiffy explained.
“Stiffy, really!” I countered.
“Surely you’re not going to turn me down?” she said, “Hell hath no fury and all that.”
“Stiffy," I blustered, “You’re my pal, I can’t just do you.”
“Of course you can, you’re not fussy when it comes to serving maids,” she reminded me.
“Yes but I use a propylactic sheath so no harm done,” I whispered, “While you need the full works, squirting stuff and everything.”
“I’ll tell your mother about the flying lessons,” Stiffy warned, “So trousers off, chop chop.”
She grabbed at my belt and fly buttons and hauled my trousers down. My member was barely at half mast, “Where do you want me?” Stiffy asked.
With Wally occupying most of the bed and little floor space I looked around for inspiration,
“You could try sitting on the bed edge,” I suggested, “And maybe take your pants off?”
She discarded her silk shorts and sat on the bed edge impatiently and clearly irritated as she waited for me to perform.
I was confused, I felt like a stud stallion or prize bull being taken to perform, no thrill of the chase just clinical coitus.
She wasn’t bad looking, her breasts were lovely if a tad small and her stocking clad legs and suspenders sent a jolt of excitement through my cock. It was a relief to feel him swelling, I would never have been allowed to forget failure.
“Get on with it,” Stiffy hissed.
I knelt before her, eased her thighs apart, aimed the tip of my member between the sweet lips of her virgin conch and pressed him home, by about two inches.
“For god’s sake relax,” I hissed.
“It hurts,” Stiffy replied.
“Of course it hurts, have you had enough?” I queried.
“No, you need to shoot your stuff and everything,” she replied.
“All right, but be quiet,” I said and in a flash of inspiration picked up her pants and said, “Here bite on these.”
She did as I said and with every ounce of will power I rammed my not overly hard member into her again and again. As maiden heads go hers was made of Armour plate, finest quality Krupps steel no less, It nearly bent my cock double before it gave way and allowed me into her womb.
I pouned into her at least three times before my balls cried enough and started shooting cream in all directions. I’m no conniseur of the art of love but this was easily the least pleasant union I has ever experienced, goo was going everywhere, me member felt like it was bent double whilst being assaulted by a coal hammer.
My head pounded as my juices stopped flowing. My wits returned, “I’ll let you sort the mess out,” I whispered like a true coward, and I made my way to my room.
Next morning just before lunch Stiffy came to find me.
“How did it go?” I asked.
“Err, not too well,” she replied, “In fact they asked me to leave.”
“Bad luck old bean,” I replied.
“Apparently Bertie bangs anything in a skirt and I’m just one hundred and ten in the list of conquests,” she complained, “Basically unless I’m pregnant I’m stuffed.”
“Bad luck, must say going home looks pretty inviting.” I suggested.
“What do you think of my chances of being preggo?” she asked.
“Lots of girls fall first time,” I suggested.
“I really need to be,” Stiffy insisted, “I’ll have to get you to do it again and do it properly this time.”
“Stiffy!” I protested.
“No in for a penny in for a pound,” Stiffy insisted, “Mama won’t be back from Aunt Martha’s if we hurry, you do like to hurry don’t you Bertie, put your foot down, roar the engine.”
“If I must,” I agreed.
We reached Stiffy’s place in record time. Most of the servants had the day off so we were able to sneak up to her bedroom unseen, not that we needed to with the number of cases she had with her and which I had to carry upstairs.
I put the last case by the wardrobe, Stiffy took off her coat, hung it on a hanger, pulled down her pants and sat on the bed edge with knees apart waiting for me to perform.
“Lets get it over with before Mama gets home,” Stiffy urged.
“It’s not very alluring,” I suggested, “You can’t expect me to perform to order like a performing seal.”
“Don’t be silly, trousers down and do me.” Stiffy insisted.
“Can I kiss you?” I asked.
“God no,” Stiffy replied, “This is serious Bertie, I just need your cock juice not some sordid love affair.”
“Look I don’t know, about this,” I counselled.
”For gods sake you‘re not turning me down surely?” she snapped.
“No, of course not,” I agreed. I slipped my trousers and underpants off and knelt before her with my tool pleasantly erect.
It was a bit awkward really, it was not as if I had pursued her or seduced her and I was not even sligtly drunk, and it was in the afternoon, in daylight. And she was my friend, not some willing serving maid. It was all most odd.
My member rose to the occasion, I eased Stiffy's thighs apart and moved ever closer until I was able to guide the tip of my member between the lips of Stiffy's conch. Even I noticed how they were now subtly swollen compared to yesterday. It just felt odd as I eased inside her. I went to kiss her, she pushed me away. It was very strange, passionless. Eventually I shot my load, quite a relief and not in the usual sense.
“Bertie, is that the best you can do?” Stiffy asked as she got dressed.
“What do you expect?” I asked. She had no answer.
“Look I need to get pregnant and quick, if you can’t oblige I shal have to look elsewhere.” she threatened. Well it was the best news I had had all week.
I went home. Sunday was uneventful.
Monday dawned bright and slightly chilly. I was due in London for 2 pm and dithered between driving and taking the train. Stiffy wandered round before I could decide.
“Are you going to London?” she asked .”Only could you give me a lift, I need to see the Branksomes.”
“No basically,” I said. It fell on deaf ears and next thing were were hurtling down the Great North Road at nearly fifty miles and hour.
“Can you pick me up in Praed Street around six do you think?” she asked. No I could not I insisted but there I was at six in Praed Street just along from Paddington Station.
“Bertie!” Stiffy called and waved. I stopped by her.
“Park the car I have something to show you,” she said.
The something was in room 319 at the Great Western Hotel. My heart sank.
“What do you think?” Stiffy asked as she took off her coat and showed me her new slinky sleek flapper dress. To be honest it looked exactly like the other ones she wore.
“It’s very nice, what did you want to show me?” I asked.
“It’s not nice, it’s cheap tat,” Stiffy exclaimed, “Everything I am wearing came from a street market, even my underwear.”
“Oh,” I asked “Why?”
“Passion Bertie, you have no passion,” She explained, “I need you to really shoot your stuff into me, you just dribble, all the girls say it needs a really good squirt to get preggers.”
“And where does cheap clothes come in?” I asked.
“I want you to tear them off me and throw me on the bed and ravish me!” she explained.
“Stiffy, really,” I protested.
“No, go on, try it, tear my dress, rip my panties force yourself on me,” she ordered.
“Do I have to?” I asked plaintively.
“Yes you do.” she replied, “Go on.”
Well the cheese cloth dress tore like paper, I tried to kiss her and she pushed me away, her panties were rather tougher but soon she was flopped on the bed legs spread and I was on top of her pounding away, it was pleasant but hardly mind rending.
“Oh, is that the best you can do?” Stiffy asked.
“Look Stiffers perhaps this isn’t such a good idea.” I suggested as I climbed off her.
“Look Bertie, I need to get preggers, if you were any sort of friend you would be only too pleased to help me.”
“Of course but it’s so clinical, loveless.” I protested.
“Exacty, I love Wally!” she declared, “God you are useless.”
We went home largely in silence.
A letter was waiting for me on Friday morning. “Meet me at number 43 Marylebone square at 7.30 pm and ask for Miss Daisy. It was Stiffy’s writing, she was plotting something.
43 Marylebone Square is quite respectable now, but then it was not exactly the most fashionable part of town. I had to knock on the door and on entering was surrounded by a horde of scantily clad whores for want of a better word.
“I was told to ask for Miss Daisy,” I explained.
“Oh yes Lord Beauchamp, come this way she is all ready for you, a young but well worn woman suggested, her eyes were dull with disillusionment and her skin pallid from lack of sunlight. She opened the door to a side room and walked in.
“Bloody Hell Stiffy what happened!” I exclaimed as I saw her through the gloom. She was completely bare, not a single stitch of clothing and secured a crucifix or some such, her arms outstretched and legs spread completely at the mercy of any excitable gentleman. She had a tennis ball secured in her mouth as a gag.
I sprang forward and removed the gag, “What have they done to you!”
“Nothing you bloody fool, I had to do something to get you properly aroused and a friend of a friend knew of this establishment.”
“Oh you silly goose, this really is not what excites me,” I explained, “I want tender kisses.”
I kissed her mouth, she turned her head away, “No!” she snapped.
I replaced her gag, I tried kissing her with the gag in with little success so I kissed her ear, she shuddered. I tried nibbling her left big toe, kissed her knee, spent equal time sucking first her left and then her right teat, I played with her breasts pushing them together and then apart, kissed the inside of her knee and then decided the time was ripe so I made sure the door was locked and removed my trousers. “I love you Stiffy," I whispered in her ear, She struggled to free herself but the bonds were to well tied.
I kissed my way up her left leg until I reaced her conch “Ummm," I exclaimed and seeing the way it was pulsing and leaking sweet lubricant I simply eased my straining member in between nher conch lips and deep inside her until the tip touched the neck of her womb. Just few long slow loving strokes and I filled that yearning cavern to the brim with my seed.
“That was lovely Stiffy,” I admitted as I pulled my member from her, “Happy?”
She was not. “That was out of order!” she protested as I once again untied her gag, “You do not love me!”
“No, I suppose not usually but when we are together.” I explained
“That’s not love you idiot it’s lust.” she insisted.
My member reared again, “Really?” I asked as I approached and aimed my member at her conch. I plunged him in and grabbed her cheeks and kissed her on the mouth, running my tongue round her mouth claiming her utterly.
She writhed in orgasm and screamed into my mouth as waves of pleasure engulfed her.
“You bastard,” she said as she broke away as my member eased from her, “Happy now! You made love to me, how can Wally possibly measure up to that!”
“Bloody hell Stiffy,” I replied, “I thought you deserved at least one decent, uh, you know, love making before you married that oaf.”
“You just want me to let you do me when you like, you know Wally will be useless!” she said.
“Guilty, I want you for myself,” I explained.
“But you don’t have a Title Bertie,” she replied, “Don’t you see!”
“You would rather have a Title than half decent sex!” I gasped.
“Yes!” she insisted, “I just need to get pregnant don’t you understand?”
“No, not really, do you want to have an affair after you’re married?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said uncertainly.
“Well I want you,” I insisted, “I’ll tell Wally we have been having an affair and I’ll tell your parents.”
“You wouldn’t!” she snapped.
“Try me, do you want a lift home?” I asked, “Only we can both tell them together.”
She didn’t really have much choice. But as she was still tied up I gagged her again and kissed her breasts, sucked her nipples till they reared up ike tiny penises and fingered the nub of her conch until she writhed and screamed into her gag in pleasure or frustration.
Finally as a coup de grace I rammed my member up her as hard as I could and shot my juices deep inside her just as I released her gag and kissed her mouth.
“I hate you,” she snapped passionately.
I dressed and released her from the frame. She dressed quickly still clearly furious but strangely subdued.
I drove her home in silence, wel we had the hood up and with all the flapping fabric talk was near impossible.
I parked the car and went inside with her.
“Mummy!” she cried as we walked in “Bertie raped me!”
“Oh gosh!” her mother replied dropping her sherry glass.
“Did you Bertie?” her father demanded.
“Yes he did!” Stiffy insisted.
“You’ll have marry her of course,” he said, “Now, if you’ve had carnal whats it.”
“Yes, I suppose so!” I agreed.
“Call the Police!” Stiffy demanded.
“Really dear Sergeant Rawlings will be in the Red Lion and probably drunk by now,” Her mother reminded her, “We don’t want a scandal, just tell everyone you’re engaged.”
“You’re not taking this seriously!” Stiffy protested.
“Well you two have been best friends for ages,” her father explained, “It’s about time young Bertie made a dishonest woman of you, might stop you chasing after fat lazy titled chappies. Bertie here is quite the businessman,”
“Father, he tied me up and gagged me!” Stiffy protested.
“Probably the only way he coud stop your incessant babble,” her mothr added, “Anyway its late, take her to bed Bertie and we can arrange the wedding details tomorrow.”
“I had better go,” I offered.
“No, don’t bother,” Stiffy admitted, “I rather liked it when you kissed my big toe.”