Upstairs: Downstairs

By Anne Summer

In this novella I explore the complex and often intricate relationships between servants and their masters where all is seldom what it seems to be! We follow Millicent, Ellen and Lydia as they forge their individual relationships with Master James, Sir William and the servants Ralph and Lionel. The results are often unexpected and always highly erotic in their outcomes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anne Summer
• Release date: Jan 21, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311149176

Anne Summer

We believe that women are emotional and loving rather than just sex-crazed animals. As such, the kind of erotica that we enjoy, perhaps crave, are basically gentle and affectionate rather than simply raunchy, even debauched.Our stories reflect this. Fundamental niceness and a degree of refinement in use of language is what we seek to achieve.Please Welcome my co-author, ? Sandy Sinful (or Sinful Sandy if you like!) Sandy joins me to make our team "Sinful Summer" in celebration of long hot, steamy nights of pleasure, taken in the delight of beautiful, masculine men and sometimes lusty women too! We are here to enjoy and be enjoyed. Sigh!

Book preview

‘Upstairs – Downstairs’

An erotic novella

By

Anne Summer

Copyright 2014 by Anne Summer

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It contains content which is of a sexually explicit nature and may be unsuitable for some readers. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people except that if you would like to share this book with another person, please be sure that they are an adult of at least 18 years of age.

This novella is entirely a work of fiction and no resemblance to any persons alive or dead is intended and any such resemblance is entirely unintentional.

I write women’s erotica. It is meant primarily for a female readership but I hope that any men who stumble across my work will also find it to be enjoyable and maybe informative!

I hope that you enjoy this short romance. I want you get turned on as much by reading it as I did by writing it.

An author is lonely in their craft. Please take time out to post a review, because your opinion is all that I have to lean on!

If you enjoy ‘Upstairs - Downstairs’ then you will surely also enjoy my other novels ‘I, Punter’ and my collections of ‘shorts’ under the cover title ‘The Joy of Sex’ (Part One & Part Two)

Anne

You can contact me at:

[e-mail]

and visit my blog at:

http://hotlands.blogspot.co.uk

and on facebook at:

https://www.facebook.com/anne.summer.12327

‘Upstairs – Downstairs’

Once a servant, always a servant! When I went into service, I had no idea just how completely I was to become owned. My body and my heart became the playthings of my master. But once a servant girl, later a servant woman. My master took my maidenhead and gave me in exchange the gift of motherhood.

Chapter One: Millie.

Manners had sent me to change my stained blouse after a stint helping cook out in the kitchen. He’s a stickler for tidiness.

So I approached the room that Ellen and I share in the basement, under stairs as they say. I don’t usually go back there during the day as Madam keeps us pretty busy, it can be a long working day at Blake’s Hall!

Oddly, I could hear a sort of mewing sound which had me puzzled so I opened the door very quietly and cautiously, peering around a wardrobe that partly blocks the entry. The sounds were coming from Ellen.

She was lying head down on her bed, her face turned towards me, hair tangled half across her cheek, eyes closed, mouth half open to release the sounds coming from her throat. She had her left arm crooked above her head and her right arm beneath her, lifting her ample breasts as if to display them to me. The nipples were pointing up taughtly. Her knees were folded under her, thrusting her naked bottom up, her legs wide apart.

The Incredible vision of Master James kneeling naked behind her, his lithe and youthful nineteen year old body was more than I could immediately believe to be real. He was grasping her around her thighs and the glistening shaft of his manhood was buried inside her bottom. He was pistoning forwards and backwards slowly and deliberately and as I watched, he penetrated her to his full depth, his firm belly pressing up against her rounded, rosy bottom causing that mew to escape from her lips, then withdrawing all the way until the head of his penis was beginning to show.

Young as he was, he was clearly a practiced and accomplished lover. His body was glowing with a faint sheen of sweat as he serviced her with a steady, powerful insistence. I could hear the sucking and gurgling sounds of his penetrations, juicily lubricated by her vaginal secretions. I could smell them too, a musky aroma that also transferred some of their excitement into myself.

I stood, silently transfixed by the scene playing out before me, barely breathing, even though when I think about it, they were too immersed in their own erotic activity to notice me hovering on their periphery.

He was gradually building up the pace and force of his lovemaking, grunting each time his groin smacked against her buttocks and she was thrusting and writhing back against him, her own mewing cries gradually rising in cadence. I was utterly fascinated, noting all the minute details which would continue to play in my mind long afterwards. The vision of his testicles swinging between his parted legs in time to his rhythm and the creaking of the bed are with me even now. I have only to close my eyes!

She started to moan loudly, seemingly in an encouragement to him to give her his all until her body visibly stiffened, the muscles of her hips and thighs going taught and her back arching to thrust up visibly stiffened, the muscles of her hips and thighs going taught and her back arching to thrust up and back as if to want to take him yet deeper inside her body. I could see a shudder pass through her followed by a release of tension but which quickly heightened again to some kind of climax in which her gasps and moans repeated. Her hiatuses came again several times until she appeared to have become sated because she then went quiescent and actually began sucking her thumb, seemingly content to let her body rock back and forth on the bed in time to his relentless thrusting.

It seemed to be a few more minutes in which he kept up his energetic pace before I heard him give a deep moan, his back arching and the sinews in his neck standing out like cords as he reached the climax of his ejaculation, then slackened and began to sag over on to her back, breathing harshly as if he couldn’t get quite enough air back into his lungs.

I slipped silently away and went over to the North Wing where nobody was likely to be about and Manners would be unlikely to find me to ask why I was still wearing my smeared blouse. I found myself some mindless dusting to do while I recovered from the shock of what I had just been a witness to and to wonder what I might do about it and where I might fit into this picture.

Ellen is a couple of years older than me. She is prettier and has bigger breasts but other than that we are very similar and we are good friends, sharing almost everything between us. Only now she has a big secret and so do I.

I resolved to say nothing and see what would happen next.

The whole scene revolved slowly through my mind and I forgot all about my dirty blouse, sitting down to supper in the scullery where we all gathered each evening. Ellen was very subdued, as well she might be, I thought, and looked demurely down at the table, only answering when spoken to. She was ravenously hungry though and only I knew why! Having this great secret cuddled in my bosom gave me a little frisson of excitement.

Interrupted by Manners’ stern rebuke, why are you still wearing that filthy rag, Millicent?

For a moment I was flustered. The first thought to flash through my mind was to say the door was locked but that would have alerted Ellen. Well, I went to do some cleaning in the North Wing first because it was dirty already and then I forgot. I smiled sweetly.

Manners grunted and that was the end of it.

That night we were quite late to bed and Ellen went off to sleep straight away, leaving me lying face up in the dark in my bed wondering what would happen next. Such matters as when and how often they did it. Even if I found out, I wouldn’t be able to go and watch them again, it would be far too risky.

And I admitted to myself that, yes, I did want to watch them again. It excited me!

My hand strayed to the wall beside me. It was a flimsy wooden partition between our room and a storeroom next door. I had only ever looked in there once, it had some old furniture stored in it which must have lain undisturbed for years, it was so dusty.

Above my bed was a large impressionist painting which I found to be vaguely disturbing – a cheap print of one of those cubist style offerings that were all the rage, apparently. An idea began to develop in my mind.

The next day was Saturday and I had the afternoon off. Not that there was much to do but I had the run of the servants’ quarters and I could walk in the grounds on a nice day. Manners had decided in his wisdom that as I was over in the North Wing I could clean the windows on the inside as well as the dusting and changing over the curtains which were due to be laundered. That was going to occupy all my spare time for about a week, I thought. The upside was that as the North Wing was little used, I would have it to myself and nobody to bother me.

Good! I thought.

On Sundays we are all expected to attend