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Sweet Sad Savage.
🕑 Added 2019-11-11 18:30:04 +0000 UTCThe work is done. As The Queen delightedly finds her Beast has been broken into a meek, obedient plaything, Clea returns home with her Savage to find Marigold waiting. When she takes the poor thing in, Savage finally breaks, lashing out and leading to a confrontation with Clea.
-o-o-o-
Clea watched with a confident smirk as The Queen admired her handiwork, padding slowly around beast who was obediently standing, staring straight ahead and fiddling nervously with her fingers. The Queen gently slapped the magnificent woman’s rear, earning a low whine from her lips, before smiling and stroking her hands around her waist.
“Are you going to be good for me, Beast?” she asked softly, looking up at her new pet’s blushing face.
“Y… yes. Mistress.” Beast nodded, nibbling her lower lip as The Queen’s hands rolled over her rippling muscles.
“Will you obey me without question? No matter my command?”
“I… I will.” Beast croaked, “I am… your property… I am your… slave.”
“Very good.” The Queen smiled brightly, stepping back and giving Beast’s arse another sharp smack. “On your knees.”
Beast obeyed silently, sinking to her knees and nervously placing her hands between her muscular thighs to stop herself fidgeting. She watched with deep, dark eyes as The Queen slowly circled around and took her chin.
“From now on, your name shall be…” The Queen purred, pausing for a moment before smiling. “Christine.”
“Y… yes, mistress.” Christine nodded without complaint, blushing as The Queen stroked her cheek.
The Queen straightened up and flashed a wide smile at the assembled women, sweeping to where Clea and Ambrose were waiting and kissing them each on the cheek. “Wonderful work my dears, simply wonderful. I can’t begin to thank you properly.”
“It was our honour.” Ambrose blushed, caressing her cheek where The Queen’s lips had touched her.
“Of course, but you shall be rewarded nonetheless!” The Queen grinned. “We shall have a banquet tomorrow, I shall show my new pet off to the world, and you shall be my honoured guests!”
“We would be delighted to attend.” Clea smiled, cupping her belly and stroking it tenderly. “Though I’d like to go home before hand, the palace is truly wonderful but I feel rather homesick.”
“Of course, it will take some time to prepare in any case.” The Queen nodded, turning her head and biting her lip as she saw Christine kneeling and blushing quietly to herself. “I need to break in my new pet.”
“Ahem… yes… well I look forward to seeing you both tomorrow, if that’s the case.” Ambrose coughed, blushing as if she hadn’t throated Christine’s rod as often as she could over the past two weeks.
“Oh, Lady Marron, won’t you stay a little longer?” The Queen pouted, “You’ve put so much work into Christine, wouldn’t you like to try her out with me?”
Ambrose went bright red and she shook her head, spluttering. “N... No!”
The Queen looked surprised and raised a brow as Ambrose’s cheeks grew darker and darker until she finally managed to formulate an excuse, weak as it was. “I… I’m sorry, I couldn’t… possibly.” She said, “Not that I’m not flattered, your majesty. It’s only that… I… I am not… comfortable having sex with a… woman.”
The Queen’s brow arched higher. “Oh.” She said, eyeing Ambrose with curious suspicion. “Well I do apologise in that case, my dear. I must have misjudged your… interests. Though it seems a mite curious that you’ve trained my new pet so well without indulging in certain intimate acts.”
“Ah, that would be my part.” Clea said quickly, coming to Ambrose’s rescue with her usual composure. “See I have no such qualms. Dear Ambrose here was the proverbial stick to my carrot.”
The Queen looked between them suspiciously before sighing and regaining her smile. “I see, perhaps you will tell me of your methods some time.” She smoothed down her gown and wound Christine’s leash around her fist, tugging her to her feet. “In that case, I shall see you both tomorrow evening. I shall send the details as soon as I am able.”
“I will await your letter eagerly, your majesty.” Clea purred, taking Savage’s wrist and squeezing. “Until tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” Ambrose mumbled as they stepped from the office, walking the familiar path through the palace to the entryway. She ran a slender hand through her short hair, cheeks still flushed.
“Not a problem, my darling.” Clea smiled, walking a little ahead of her and putting an extra sway into her hips. “I keep my promises. Your secrets are mine to keep. Although…” she turned her head and flashed a sultry smile, “You could repay me.”
“Repay you.” Ambrose scowled; lips pursed. “I should have known not to trust you.”
“Oh come, Rosie.” Clea sighed, turning back to her and taking her hands. “I’m asking you to come home with me, not blackmailing you.” Ambrose sniffed and pulled her hands away, striding off down the hall. Clea pursed her lips and followed as best she could, catching her at the door.
“Clea.” Ambrose hissed, “Let go of my arm.”
“Rosie… please.” Clea pouted quietly, “haven’t these past few weeks been fun? Haven’t I proven that I truly want to be your friend?”
“I… appreciate your discretion, Clea.” She winced, “But your idea of friendship is not something I can afford to entertain. Subtlety is something you sorely lack and if I am seen to be close to you assumptions will be made… and that will lead to questions and even more scrutiny into my life than I must tolerate now. I must keep my secret; I cannot do that and maintain our… association.”
Clea recoiled, scowling. “Well… If that’s the case, there’s little point in trying to convince you otherwise.” She yanked on Savage’s leash and pushed past Ambrose, stalking towards her waiting carriage. She slapped Savage’s hands away as the girl tried to help her up into her seat, and glared at the wall, ignoring the pained, mournful expression lingering on her pet’s face.
There was an unexpected guest waiting for them when they finally pulled up in front of the house.
“Annie, what is this?” Clea asked with a glare that made the young maid cringe.
“Miss Suzanne came by yesterday evening, ma’am.” She said quickly, presenting the leash wound around Marigold’s throat to Clea. “She asked if you would please take her in, as Miss Allian left her behind, and she cannot care for both her pets and this one.”
“Wonderful.” Clea sniffed, snatching up Marigold’s leash and tossing it to Savage. “Go get her bathed and dressed, I expect you both in my bed by supper.”
“Yes Mistress.” Savage nodded, watching sadly as Clea stormed past Annie and disappeared into the house. She sighed and hung her head, shoulders slumping. A soft hand pressed against her bicep and she glanced up, seeing Annie’s concerned expression.
“Is everything alright, love?” she asked, quiet Yorkshire accent as delightful as always. Savage forced a smile.
“Mistress is just… frustrated. She’s been very busy with her work.” She said, scooping up her own leash and squeezing Marigold’s against it in her palm. “I’m sure she’ll pay more attention to me once she’s had time to relax.”
“I hope so.” Annie winced, looking back into the house. “I haven’t seen her so angry before… she barely touched you at all as she came out the carriage. Maybe she just needs to let off some steam?”
“It’s not our place to complain.” Savage murmured, “Will ye please draw a bath for me and Marigold.”
“Marigold and I, miss Savage.” Annie corrected, earning an impatient growl from the towering redhead and promptly scurrying away. Annie had been Savage’s tutor, helping her twist her natural northern lilt into the speech of a proper young lady so as not to embarrass Clea at parties, but Savage was in no mood for a lecture.
-o-o-o-
She sighed miserably in the bathtub, the steaming water up to her knees as she sat, slowly washing Marigold’s golden locks and lathering in the same oils and perfumes that Clea enjoyed Savage’s hair to be scented with. The girl’s back was a patchwork of bruises, she trembled with every touch of Savage’s soft, gentle hands.
“Ye can speak, ye know.” She said quietly, letting her accent come through in the hopes it would put the little blonde at ease. “Mistress lets us do as we please when we are not serving her, as long as we behave.”
“And… if we don’t?” Marigold muttered.
Savage paused and rested her hands on her shoulders, tugging her back a little against her chest, pillowing her head with her breasts. “The worst punishment mistress has ever given me was a simple spanking and no release for a week. I spilled tea on one of her favourite books.”
“She doesn’t hit you?”
“Never.” Savage promised.
“She taught my mistress how to keep me in line.” Marigold scowled, hugging her waist in the water, enjoying the touch of Savage’s skin against hers despite herself. “But… she doesn’t hurt you.”
“I know it’s not my place to comment on a mistress, but from what I gather, Allian was a mean cunt.” Savage smiled, toying with some soft blonde hair as Marigold cuddled down against her. “Mistress only uses roughness as a way to make our pleasure greater. Ye’ll serve her like me, and she’ll take care of ye. Ye won’t want for nothing as long as yer a good girl.”
Marigold hummed quietly and rolled onto her front, hugging Savage’s chest as the older girl washed her back, both of their cocks stirring as they were pushed together. The blonde whined and bit her lip, nervously moving her hands up to take Savage’s waist. “You… you sired your mistress’ babies?”
“I… did, yes.” Savage murmured, biting back a moan as Marigold’s rod pushed against her.
“D… does she let you have sex with her a lot?”
Marigold was almost as awful at being subtle as Clea was. Savage pursed her lips and shifted in the water. “Mistress enjoys me whenever she pleases. The same will be true for you.” she reached out and continued to lather Marigold’s hair, biting her lip as the girl rubbed against her.
“Did you ever have sex before her? How old are you?”
Savage’s jaw bunched as she continued to scrub down her back with her soapy sponge. “I am twenty, and no, I had not made love to anyone before mistress.”
“What is it like?”
“I have no doubt you will find out soon.”
“What’s your name?” Marigold asked quietly, fingers sinking into the warm, welcoming flesh of Savage’s breasts.
“My name is Savage.” Savage growled, patience wearing thin. “Please stop touching my chest.”
“I mean your real name.” Marigold whispered. “Not the one your mistress made you take.”
Savage snarled and sat up, sending Marigold tumbling onto her back and a huge wave of water to splash out of the tub. She grabbed the girl’s cock in her fist and squeezed just hard enough to make her whine. “I am Savage. I am my mistress’ pet. And I am trying to make my home welcoming to ye, but ye clearly need to know who is in charge!”
Marigold whimpered beneath her and Savage realised just how hard her cock had become thanks to the little brat’s teasing. She bit her lip, fighting temptation and failing, it had been so long since she’d had release, almost a week since she’d been held in The Queen’s loving embrace and treated by her and her private pets.
“Mistress may own us both, but I am her favourite!” She hissed, planting her arms on either side of Marigold’s head, forcing her rod between her thighs. Her lips curled at Marigold’s terrified expression. It felt good to be in control again. To be powerful. She groaned and forced herself tight against Marigold, crushing her down into the tub and drawing a pained squeak from the girl. “I am strong and powerful and beautiful! I am the perfect slave for my mistress! I am everything she demands I be. I’m… I’m loyal and… I’m obedient and… I’m… I’m good for her… I’m a good girl.”
Marigold was squeaking beneath her, small hands clinging to Savage’s arms as she trapped her cock beneath her belly. Her pretty face was screwed up with pain, tears sparkled in the corners of her eyes.
Savage stopped, suddenly ashamed, and swallowed, pulling away and sliding from the bathtub, shivering in the cold air. She grimaced miserably and turned back to help Marigold, only to lock eyes with Clea.
“M… Mistress.” She croaked, voice dying in her throat. “I…”
“Silence.” Clea hissed, stepping quickly over the wet floor and helping Marigold up, taking her cheeks and inspecting her body. Her cool, pale eyes were softer than Savage had seen in months. She swallowed mournfully and bowed her head, looking down at her feet as Clea quietly fussed over Marigold.
“I’ll have Clara take care of all these bruises, and have Jeanie prepare a nice hot meal.” She was saying. “Then we’ll take you up to bed.” Savage’s heart sunk, she remembered when her mistress had spoken to her so softly and comfortingly, in the day after she was broken and enslaved to her for good.
-o-o-o-
“You’re smiling.” Clea purred, hand wandering down to Alar’s rump as they walked through the park. Alar blushed and brushed some fiery hair out of her face, looking down at her feet. Clea chuckled and shifted her grip, taking her arm and sighing. As usual she was dressed to impress, her finest clothes paired with elegant lace gloves and a dainty parasol that was resting over one shoulder.
Alar was dressed to show off as well, though in a very different way. Her throat was being squeezed by a thick, fur-lined leather collar, to which was connected her leash, held tight in Clea’s hand. She had been given simple sandals, and leather cuffs to be fastened around her wrists and ankles. They were comfortable, walking in nothing but them was less so.
“I… I was jus’ lookin at the flowers, mistress.” She mumbled shyly, biting her lip as Clea waved politely to a couple that passed, no doubt enjoying their looks of confusion and awe as they saw Savage.
“They are rather magnificent this time of year,” Clea agreed. “but that’s not what you were smiling about.”
“No mistress.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, my sweet darling Savage.” Clea purred. “You see submission is not so bad now, don’t you? You see that obedience will make your life happier?”
“I… I do, mistress.” Alar nodded quietly, “I will be a good girl for ye, I swear.”
“Will you do it as Alar, or as Savage?”
Alar blinked. “I… don’t understand, mistress.”
“I’m giving you a choice, my sweet.” Clea said softly, “You could keep your name, if you wanted. Or you could cast it aside and be my Savage. My prized pet.”
Alar nibbled her lip and thought. Part of her knew the choice was meaningless, either way she would be a slave… but another part was only thinking about which would make her new mistress happier. She blushed and played with her thumbs, “I… I’d like to be yer pet… mistress.” She said softly. “I’d like to be yer S… Savage.”
“Hmmm, I believe you dear.” Clea purred, a soft, pale hand caressing a freckled cheek. “Come, let’s sit a while under that tree.” Savage smiled and obediently followed Clea onto the grass, watching as her mistress lay herself down against the tree in the shade and settling herself down in her lap, happy and content in the warm summer air, enjoying the lazy movement of Clea’s pale fingers as they toyed with her hair.
-o-o-o-
“Would you care to explain yourself?”
Savage whined and shook her head, kneeling in Clea’s bedroom. Clea was perched on the edge of her bed in her underthings, Marigold was sitting mutely behind her, having been thoroughly pampered for the last few hours. Clea pursed her lips, pale eyes not moving an inch from Savage’s shivering form.
“No?” she breathed. “You have nothing to say?”
“No… mistress.” Savage mumbled.
Clea made a disgusted noise and stood, grunting with the effort, and waddling towards her. Savage winced as she came close. “What were you thinking!?” she roared. “How could you do something so vile!?”
“I…”
“You saw the bruises! You saw how that cow Allian hurt her!” Clea continued, ignoring her. “How dare you even think of making her life any harder!”
“I’m sorry.” Savage breathed.
“Not yet you’re not!” Clea snapped, turning on her heel and stamping back to the bed. “If it weren’t for the banquet tomorrow I’d have you whipped!”
Savage shifted on her knees and sniffed, earning a sharp glare from Clea. “Don’t you cry! You’ve no right.”
“I… yes… mistress.” Savage nodded, swiping at her eyes. “S… sorry mistress.”
Clea pursed her lips and sat down again, running a hand over her belly. She looked at Marigold who hung her head quietly, and then sighed. “Savage… Savage why are you crying?”
“I… I’m sorry mistress… I’ll stop…”
“No… dear… just tell me.” Clea said tiredly, pinching her brow. “I’ve already got one miserable pet; I don’t need another.”
Savage swallowed and wrung her hands together. “I… I’d never been in love, before ye took me from my home.” She said finally, voice small and quiet. “I’d never… kissed anyone, or made love, I’d never even held hands with someone I liked. There was never anyone I cared for… no one I wanted to do those things with.”
She glanced up and writhed uncomfortably as she saw Marigold and Clea’s eyes watching her. “When ye took me, when ye… broke… me, I suddenly had someone I could experience all those things with, someone I could… grow to care for.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I… I learned so much from you, and I came to… I… I started…”
“What, Savage?” Clea asked softly.
“I fell in love with ye!” Savage whined miserably. “Ye were everything to me! Ye… ye took care of me, ye made love to me, ye showed me off to all yer friends. I was your favourite! But now ye don’t pay any attention! Ye don’t talk to me; ye don’t touch me… ye don’t even smile at me anymore.” She pouted and wiped her nose. “I thought… maybe I was more than just a toy. That maybe ye cared about me like I cared about you.”
“So, you hurt Marigold because you thought I was replacing you.” Clea said, tone cold but expression pained.
“No… I just… I was so desperate to feel in control again.” Savage croaked. “I wanted to feel like I felt before everything changed… when ye still loved me.”
“She didn’t hurt me, not really.” Marigold whispered. “I… I shouldn’t have teased her… I was touching her… she told me to stop but I wanted to feel good, I didn’t listen to her.”
Clea rubbed her face before sitting up and patting Marigold’s cheek. “You don’t have to make excuses, Sweet thing, you’re not to blame.” She beckoned Savage closer and ran her fingers through her hair as she knelt between her legs. “Have I truly been so cold?”
Savage didn’t reply, sniffling and trembling as Clea stroked her. Clea sighed and tugged her close, her cheek pressing against Clea’s immense belly. Clea was warm against her cheek, her touch delicate. She smelled just like Savage remembered.
“My sweet Savage… Perhaps I have been neglecting you of late.” She whispered. “What with Ambrose and her Majesty’s task and my labour coming closer every day… I suppose I have not been giving you the attention you need.”
She pursed her lips and tipped Savage’s head up, assuming a stern expression. “I am still angry, and you will be punished… but tonight I will attend to your every need.”
“Mistress I…” Savage began before being hushed by a finger.
“No more talk.” Clea said, reaching down and petting her cheek before taking Marigold’s hand and pulling her closer as well. “The two of you sweet young things must be taken care of and taken care of you shall be. So hush and let me work.”
Savage smiled weakly and took Clea’s hand, kissing her gently and earning a fond chuckle. “Marigold, my sweet, would you lay down some pillows for me?”
“I… yes miss Clea.” The blonde nodded, snatching up a pair of pillows from the bed and darting to Clea’s feet, setting them down and watching as Savage helped Clea sink down onto them. “Um… what should I do now?”
“Sit down.” Savage said softly, gently guiding her down onto the edge of the bed and sitting beside her, “Mistress will take care of us.”
“But… um, I don’t.”
“Marigold.” Clea said, voice a low, sultry purr. “Hush.” She pushed the girl’s thighs apart and stroked her hands over her skin to her cock. She was smaller than Savage, but still impressive, fitting neatly into Clea’s palms with her plump pink head poking out. Marigold let out a sweet little gasp and bit her lip, staring in amazement as Clea pushed her lips against her shaft.
Savage watched and petted her own rod, smiling as she watched Marigold’s face. The girl was cute, whimpering and mewing as Clea’s fingers danced over her sensitive flesh, her lips rolling up and down her pole, leaving her skin slick and shiny with her spit. Savage groaned and stroked herself, squeaking as Clea’s spare hand found her and closed around her cock.
“I’ve not forgotten you, my darling.” Clea hummed, licking her lips. “Have no fear.” She moved forwards and engulfed the first inch or so of Savage’s pulsing cock into her mouth, her lips slipping over the familiar length easily. Savage bit her lip and whined, reaching down and cautiously taking Clea’s hair and holding her as she bobbed back and forth, pausing every so often to flick at Savage’s head with her tongue and tease her with gentle pressure from her teeth.
She switched between the girls every minute, growing a little less composed with every switch. Soon not only was Clea’s chin dripping with her own spit, but both girls were whining, cocks thoroughly smeared with their mistress’s saliva and their own excitement. Clea paused for breath and wiped her mouth, flashing a lustful grin at the blushing pair above her.
“Not a bad start, loves.” She panted, caressing her pregnancy. “Who goes first?”
“Marigold.” Savage sighed, smiling. Her heart was throbbing in her chest as she slipped onto the floor and helped Clea rise so that she was bent over the bed, gorgeous legs straight and swollen belly just brushing the covers. Savage’s cheeks flushed as she knelt behind her mistress, hands resting on her hips. She mewed and caved to her desire, moving a hand to caress a fat pale cheek and pushing her face between Clea’s thighs.
“Oooh!” Clea breathed, surprised by the sudden presence of Savage’s tongue inside her. “Th… that’s it, darling. That’s the spot. Get me nice and wet for our new plaything.”
“M… mistress… may I kiss you?” Marigold whined, sitting cross-legged on the bed with her hands pressing down on her cock. She was red-faced and trembling, almost insane with need.
“Come here, my sweet.” Clea hummed, beckoning with a finger and purring as Marigold crawled to her, nervously sitting herself down and placing a chaste kiss on Clea’s lips.
Clea laughed and patted her cheek before drawing her into a deep, feral kiss. Marigold whimpered, cock pulsing, as Clea’s tongue invaded her mouth. She reached out and caressed the older woman’s cheeks as they kissed, heart fluttering with delight as she eagerly anticipated sinking her rod deep inside her new owner.
Behind, Savage tore herself away from Clea’s cunt, licking her lips and growling with lust. “Marigold… mistress needs to be fucked, get to work.”
“And what will you be doing, my dearest Savage?” Clea cooed, wiggling her hips a little. “How do you plan to ravish me whilst Marigold is taking care of my sex?”
“However ye desire, my mistress.” Savage replied, smiling happily.
Clea admired her with lust filled eyes and flashed a crooked grin. “Come around in front of me darling, let me see you.” Savage mewed and eagerly hopped onto the bed, taking position between Clea’s arms and giggling as her mistress winked at her. “You are such a magnificent creature.” Clea purred, taking her cock in one hand and squeezing.
“I… I’m so sorry for disappointing ye, Mistress.” Savage managed to whimper, panting as Clea’s fingers danced up and down her shaft. “I just… missed ye so much.”
“It will not happen again.” Clea growled quietly before smiling. “And I will never let you feel so alone again either.” Savage blushed with delight and moaned as Clea’s mouth slipped over her cock, hot and wet and loving. She released a muffled groan as Marigold excitedly pressed herself inside her sopping cunt, tongue rising and pressing against Savage’s length as it sat pulsing within her cheeks.
“Ohhhhhh.” Marigold whimpered, panting and clinging to Clea’s hips as she fully sheathed herself inside her. “Oh… god… it feels… wonderful!”
Clea’s giggle tickled Savage’s cock, drawing an equally delighted whimper from the redhead’s lips. Both older women supressed grins as Marigold mewed and began to thrust, making the sweetest little coos of arousal. Clea and Savage busied themselves with making up for lost time, Clea pouring all her talent and practice into worshipping Savage’s rod, and Savage petting her mistress’ head with all the affection she could muster.
They became so lost in pleasing one another that Marigold’s sudden squeak of orgasm came as a surprise. A low, happy whine escaping her lips as she fell onto the bed and stroked herself in a blissful stupor.
“I… suppose… it’s your turn.” Clea rasped, batting her lashes at Savage.
“May… may I have ye on top?” The girl asked meekly.
Clea pursed her lips in a sly smile and rolled a hand down her body. “I think that can be arranged.” Savage groaned as Clea mounted her, slipping down her shaft until she was sat in her lap.
“Oh… god in heaven… I’d almost forgotten how… amazing you feel inside me, love.” she crooned, sitting and cupping her belly, basking in the heat of her pet’s cock buried deep inside her cunt. She reached up and freed her hair from its bun, sending long silver-blonde strands cascading over her shoulders. Savage smiled adoringly up at her and took her hips in her hands, stroking her pale flesh and mewing with delight as her mistress began to roll her hips.
“I love ye, mistress.” Savage moaned, guiding her mistress’ movement and staring up at the gentle ripple of her plump breasts. “I love ye… I love ye so much.”
Clea hummed, eyes closed and teeth clenched tight to hold back her moans. She took Savage’s wrists and squeezed, whimpering as the girl’s cock jumped inside her. “I… Love you too… my Savage.” A pale eye cracked open and she smiled. “Now stop this soft behaviour and fuck me like you mean it.”
“With pleasure, mistress.”
Savage straightened up and latched her lips onto Clea’s collarbone, leaving small pink marks whenever she moved on to a new patch of warm pale skin. Soon her mistress was whimpering with ecstasy, fingers raking through Savage’s hair and mouth open in a weak, helpless pant. Every touch of hot lips against her throat, a wet tongue against her skin, a strong hand caressing the roundness of her belly, it was driving her beyond any pleasure she’d felt in all the time she’d kept the magnificent barbarian girl as her pet. Savage seemed impossibly perfect inside her, filling every ridge and crevice of her sex with her rod.
“Oh… good lord.” She managed, before her orgasm hit her and knocked what precious little strength she had clung onto away. Savage’s seed erupted within her, spattering her walls and oozing from her petals in an oh-so-familiar way.
She fell panting onto her back, Savage’s strong, loving hands guiding her gently onto the mattress as she mewed with delight and let out one last sigh of contentment. Savage was nuzzling against her in a second, chin nestled in the mess that Clea’s hair had become, hand resting possessively over her stomach. Clea smiled and reached out, tugging Marigold against her on the other side, enjoying the hot, heavy breaths of her dearest pets before falling into a well-deserved sleep.
-o-o-o-
Annie opened the door with a nervous smile, looking up and down at the woman waiting alone outside. “May I help you, Ma’am?”
She was tall and thin, wearing a dark shawl over her dress. Her features were sharp and angular, her jaw tight and defined, her hair a shock of inky black. She smiled and her dark green eyes sparkled. “I was hoping to speak with Clea… Lady Lamont.” She said softly.
“I’m afraid Lady Lamont is unavailable.” Annie replied.
“I know it’s late, but I’m sure if you tell her that Ambrose is here to see her, she’ll…”
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but Lady Lamont is enjoying the company of her closest friends.” Annie scowled, impatient. “She’s given me explicit instructions to turn away anyone… no exceptions.”
The woman seemed surprised, “Her… closest friends.” She repeated quietly. “Of course… I see. I… I shall be on my way then.”
Annie pursed her lips, suddenly feeling sorry for the imposing stranger. “I… I could leave a message, ma’am.”
“No… no that’s quite alright.” The woman sighed, tugging her shawl tight about her chest and hurrying away into the night, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Annie watched her go and sighed, closing the door and glancing upstairs where the sound of sex was no longer echoing. Perhaps she should have let the woman in? No. No lady Lamont would be in no fit state to entertain after playing with her pets.
She sighed and rubbed her eyes. She’d tell Clea about her visitor in the morning.
