The Initiation of Phoebe

By Regina Green

Rural England, 1882. A wealthy and powerful young aristocrat, Jacob, Lord Burlington, his faithful coachman, Ben, and lovely Phoebe, the inexperienced daughter of the village's public-house proprietor, embark on a new and highly erotic relationship behind the very private walls of Burling Abbey. They are joined by Mrs. Hendrick, the uninhibited cook, who initiates Phoebe into lesbian lovemaking... and enjoys sharing her with Jake. But bonds are fragile, and strong passions have been aroused that will leave Jake, Ben, and Phoebe facing an uncertain future.

Note: Book 2, The Further Adventures of Phoebe, is out now at all stores!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Regina Green
• Release date: Mar 5, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311972699

Regina Green

Regina Green is a published erotica author living in Northern California. She enjoys exploring scenarios of full-figured women having raunchy, uninhibited sex with both male and female partners.Thanks for checking out my profile :)

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The Initiation of Phoebe

by

Regina Green

Copyright 2014 by Regina Green

For Gina, David, Mytrae—whose feedback all helped enormously. This grateful author thanks you.

ONE—Ben

Cheltringham, England

1882

He let me have her first.

That’s what I remember most about the April day when we met Phoebe. The sun had come out, there were a few rain showers, but the air was sparkling clean and the warmth of the spring was rising. I saw pink and yellow roses in bud as Jake and I walked up the path to her father’s Tudor-style public house.

Saxon, her father, was a nice elderly gent—I’d spotted him a few times before and Jake always paused to have a word with him. This time the old man looked a bit down. I pulled off my tweed cap and went and sat with the other lads, other coachmen and field workers, the usual mix, and had a pint. Jake was in another room, a cozy private space that places like these always set aside for aristocratic visitors.

Jake was Lord Jacob Burlington, you see. I’d worked for him for five years, and we’d become closer than I ever expected, so I’d lost perspective on him. But I noticed others’ eyes dwelling on him with approval and respect, whether it was because of his title, his bulky, muscular appearance, or his unexpected friendliness. Jake wasn’t the least bit haughty. He had a nice smile. He was very dark, clean-shaven, and his hair curled slightly. Women blushed slightly when he looked at them. Men were flattered when he took an interest.

I knew Jake so well. I knew that he could get away with whatever he wanted. He always had.

And he had a way of putting things. He told me later that when Phoebe served him that day—old Saxon’s daughter—there was an instant spark between them. This dark-haired girl with lovely pale skin smiled at him and leaned over with his foaming pint. Her breasts were full, almost spilling out of her bodice. They exchanged a few words. Jake always knew what to say, what not to say.

He asked her how she was and she told him that she’d been keeping well, but it had been a difficult winter, because her mother had died suddenly. I remembered the mother, a nice, tired-looking woman, younger than her husband.

It was a good sign when they confided in you, Jake always said.

He expressed sympathy and concern and asked if there was anything he could do.

No, she’d said with a sigh. I suppose I’m stuck here looking after Father and a million men every day! And that’s it.

He’d paused. And then he’d inquired innocently, as if it just occurred to him, I wonder if you’d consider looking after a couple of men instead of millions? It might be a nice rest for you.

She’d raised her eyebrows.

You see, we’re short-staffed at the house. There’s only Cook, Ben, and myself. Ben’s my coachman, he added, when she looked perplexed.

I see… there’s no Lady Burlington, then.

I’m just a bachelor, Phoebe, like your dad.

They exchanged a smile at that. Of course he was nothing like her father, I’m sure she was thinking. At this point, I’d wandered away from the group I was in and was watching them from a distance through the half-open door.

I was always torn when I watched scenes like this. Jake always had a proposition, and he always meant well: he was a fiery, impulsive sort, and he genuinely liked women. But I knew what it would be like for this girl if her father was foolish enough to take up Jake’s offer. Though I doubted that he would be. Of course Jake would phrase it carefully and make it seem like he was doing Phoebe a big favor. But she’d never been in service, and once you were in… you soon lost the capability for any other kind of life.

And service meant a lot of things. I’m not sure if Phoebe knew this, having grown up, unlike me, with a nice mum and dad and having her freedom and modest pleasures, but once you were under their thumb, as much as you grew to love them and be loyal to them, there was always a tension. Most maids ended up getting rogered by their master or someone in their master’s family. It’s just how it was. And as a young man, you weren’t out of the woods either, so to speak.

I don’t think Phoebe knew any of this as she stood blushing and smiling next to him, nervously wrapping the rag she was holding around her finger. She didn’t know that Jake liked young, dark-haired, voluptuous women, and that I’d seen him over the years with many of them. Some were prostitutes, some were women he took briefly as mistresses. A few were married. Jake had done it all up in London, while keeping a reputation in the village as a nice young gentleman and a good landlord. Down here he’d been the soul of discretion. It had to be that way, he said. But he also liked the country, liked walking with the dogs, going to church on Sunday, foxhunting. He liked those rituals.

But he had other rituals, too. I’d watched the carriage shake on many a dark London street as Jake had his woman du jour. I’d stand and smoke a cigarette (one of his) and it would be hard to stop thinking about what Jake was doing, about his powerful body driving into them. Quite often he’d open the door when he was done and I would enter. The women never minded; they’d be lying half-naked with this look of dazed pleasure on their faces. They’d smile at me sleepily as I unbuttoned my breeches and slipped inside them, my cold cock seeking their hot, wet core. Jake would playfully slap my buttocks and then, once me and the woman in question were particularly caught up in the moment, so to speak, he’d enter me from behind. I’d come to love his heavy body lying atop mine, but I’d never admitted it to him. The admission was there in the fact that I let him do it, let him take me. After, I felt so calm.

* * *

I stepped away from the door as Phoebe ran out, still blushing, and obviously quite excited. She gave me an odd smile as she passed—she couldn’t place me. I smiled back, liking her innocence. I wondered what would become of her at Burling Abbey if old Saxon said yes and agreed to give up his daughter. Would she stay pretty and young and fresh like this? Jake had strange tastes—and I’d experienced some of them. I was 23, but I didn’t feel young, particularly. Nor had I ever had a sweetheart of my own. My whole life was centered around Jake, around his needs, demands, and movements.

Phoebe’s hair smelled nice. I knew that if I ever got to embrace her, it would be fleeting, and I would have to watch Jake have her—many, many times. He was not a monster, but one of the most sexually driven and insatiable men I’d ever known. Sometimes I wondered if all rich folk were like that. You couldn’t tell from the outside, from their bluff and jovial manner. I’d seen Jake and his friends do shocking things, then brush it off and be the soul of politeness the next day as they chatted to some nice elderly lady at church. There were always mothers and aunts to placate, it seemed, in their world. But Jake had lost both parents very young, just at the time he left school. He’d said to me once that loneliness had driven him to do the things he’d done and look for companionship in strange places.

The odd moments of vulnerability made him wonderful and, God knows, he was good in bed. But I had to stay