All the services

 1

She came to Medley Hall twice a year to visit his employer, her grandfather, Lord Templeton, but the last time she'd been here, Toby Linton had almost lost his job.

He remembered it well, a mixture of good feelings and bad now blending within him as the memories danced around in his mind. For it had been pleasurable to be around Miss Templeton, she had always been a strikingly attractive girl, as long as Toby could recall, and as her years increased between her infrequent visits to the leafy Hampshire countryside, her looks only became more and more bewitching.

"I'm feeling cold, Toby, very cold. I want you to put an extra sweater on me today."

"Of course, sir."

"Can be seen shivering when she gets here, eh?"

She had always flirted with Toby – if for no other reason than the fact that he was the only member of the staff of her own age – but it had always been a game rather than anything serious. She knew as well as he did that his primary function was to serve her grandfather, particularly when he had taken over as valet, taking personal responsibility for the fragile lord's person.

"No sir, of course not."

"I think that green one will do."

But the last few times Miss Templeton had been to Medley Hall, she'd been spending more and more time with Toby, dragging him away from her grandfather to get him to show her round the gardens or take her riding through the various bridle paths in the beautiful rolling green countryside. And Toby had enjoyed spending time with her.

Yet the last time she'd been at Medley Hall, Miss Templeton had rung for him in the middle of the night, asking him to stay with her a while since she could not sleep

Now, as he dressed Lord Templeton, buttoning up the elderly gentleman's spotless starched white shirt in preparation for her arrival once again at Medley Hall, he felt real nerves flutter around inside his chest. He remembered how Swainson, the stuffy butler had burst into the room that night, apologising to Miss Templeton but dragging Toby out into the corridor for a serious dressing-down. He remembered the red-faced butler demanding to know why Toby had been in Miss Templeton's room at such an hour, shouting that Lord Templeton had been ringing for him for nearly half an hour while he was attempting to seduce the poor man's granddaughter.

"Yes, I may be eighty-four, Toby, but I can't be seen shivering – not by anyone."

"No, sir."

"If a man doesn't have dignity, Toby, a man has nothing worth anything."

That little incident had nearly cost Toby his job – and no one hired valets without good references, so it may have cost him his career. He'd had a long lecture about how dangerous it was getting involved in an affair with an employer's relative – and despite Toby's own protestations that he had not purposefully been trying to seduce Miss Templeton, the lecture had been long – and he was warned in future to keep away from her.

But now she was coming back to Medley Hall, Toby was slightly worried. Because although he had never done anything morally reprehensible with Miss Templeton, if he was suspected of it, that was bad enough as far as Swainson was concerned. Swainson had been looking for a way to get rid of him for a while now, because Swainson was looking for a way to get his nephew a post at Medley Hall.

"Right," said Lord Templeton, reaching for his cane before pulling his elderly frame up onto his feet, "she should be here in a few minutes. Shall we go?"

"Certainly, sir," Toby replied meekly, assisting the old man in his sluggish shuffle towards the elevator. Why the old man did not get a wheelchair was beyond Toby's reasoning: it would have been so much easier. But pride was a huge part of Lord Templeton's temperament, and being seen in a wheelchair was not something for a man of his social standing as far as he was concerned.

As the elevator sank through the elegant floors of the great house, Toby found himself getting more and more nervous. She was coming back – the most beautiful girl he'd ever met – and he was worried that he would be caught looking at her in a way less than professional. Because he did care for her – he'd grown up with her, despite only seeing her twice a year – and he liked her very much as a person. He also worried that she would get him in trouble. And deep down, he was worried that she would arrive and have her own life settled, and that she would no longer desire to spend time with him at all.

"Her car just drawing into the drive now, sir," Swainson was there immediately they left the confines of the elevator on the ground floor. The tall butler escorted them through the lavishly furnished hall past the gloomy oil portraits of previous Templetons.

"Her room is ready, Swainson?" Lord Templeton demanded.

"Of course, sir, and Alice has placed fresh flowers in all the vases."

"Grand."

Standing out in the drive like that, their polished shoes motionless in the clean yellow gravel, the servants watched as the shiny black Rolls Royce approached. Winter had turned to spring and the green oaks dotted across the estate were full with their brilliant green regalia, their fresh leaves so beautiful in the light breeze.

"Miss Templeton will want her supper fairly soon," Swainson said to the cook as they stood there in front of the house, the glossy black Rolls Royce drawing closer and closer as it progressed towards them up the drive. "You'll fetch her luggage and take it up to her room, Toby," the irritatingly smug man continued, always seeming to enjoy ordering Toby around.

And then, as the vehicle came to a halt in front of them, they were all silent. Swainson stepped forwards to open the Lady's door.

Toby was nervous, more nervous than he had ever been now. He'd worked at Medley Hall for most of his life, and even though he was still fairly young, it would be hard getting employment elsewhere in this modern age with no real qualifications and no references. Miss Templeton held the key to his future: if Swainson suspected anything, he would be out on his ear.

His heart was in his throat as Swainson opened the door of the sleek black Rolls Royce. Miss Templeton stepped out of the car. Toby stopped breathing. Wow. His first glimpse of her was like a punch in the stomach as he was reminded of her real beauty. She was absolutely astonishing.

She took two steps up to her grandfather, stooping slightly to kiss his cheeks – age had robbed him of height as well as strength.

"My dear, how is life treating you?" Lord Templeton asked.

"Great, thanks," she smiled – such a sweet smile, "I'm in college now, grandpa."

Her accent had always seemed slightly glamorous to Toby – the sharpened consonants and altered vowels from across the Atlantic being more at home on the silver screen that in reality in the sleepy shires of England. Part of it was Toby's love of the cinema, part of it was his stifled desire to see the world – not something a simple servant had to look forward to. But part of it was merely the complete package: Miss Lisa Templeton was exquisite, and made his whole body seem light as a feather whenever she was around him.

"Would you care to have some lunch, Miss?" Toby heard Swainson asking Miss Templeton as he moved to take her luggage from the roof of the car.

"Sure," she said, "later, though. First I want to get changed– I've been travelling in these far too long."

"Very well, Miss."

And as Toby took her two suitcases past her, he briefly caught her eye. The connection between them was fleeting, but it set his heart alight with its intensity. There was no doubting that she still felt something for him in the same way he did for her – but that might not be a good thing.

2

He was in her bedroom – so elegant and feminine with its four poster bed draped in spring colours and the various arrangements of flowers – having deposited the two heavy suitcases ready for Alice to unpack, when Miss Templeton arrived.

He was already breathing heavily, his skin flushed and his flesh warmed by the effort of heaving those solid cases along the various corridors up to this room, but now his heart quickened even further.

Alice, the maid, followed her in, but Miss Templeton turned to her and smiled, saying that she would not be needed. A brief expression of bafflement escaped the thirty-year-old maid, who was normally the one to help Miss Templeton with her person, but who was she to question Lord Templeton's granddaughter? She did as she was bid, and retired from the bedroom. Toby caught her eye briefly, and a look of solidarity passed between them – Toby knew he could trust Alice not to alert Swainson to this breach of protocol, since Alice like most of the rest of the staff was no great follower of the stuffy butler.

"Uh… will that be all, Miss?" Toby asked the attractive auburn-haired girl. His job had been to bring her suitcases up to her room, and that had been accomplished.

"Aren't you going to unpack for me, Toby?" she said, sitting down on the large velvet-covered bed.

"Uh… if you would like me to, Miss," he said, the confusion clear in his voice.

"Good," she grinned, loving her power over him, "you know, I always liked you best out of all the servants."

"Thank you, Miss," Toby tried not to blush by concentrating his mind on the job at hand – unpacking the suitcases.

"Do you think my grandfather looks frail, Toby?" she asked.

Toby was not awfully familiar with the female items of clothing, but he did his best. The walk-in wardrobe was already filled to quite some extent with a certain amount of her clothes, which was why she needed only these two large suitcases for her fortnight's stay. But there was enough in the suitcases to keep Toby busy for a while. He tried not to focus on the items of a more personal nature, the lacy underwear and so on, because to think of what the beautiful petite American girl dressed in such a way made the blood stir between his legs.

"He is getting old, Miss," Toby said, trying to be neutral. He knew she was hardly enamoured of her elderly grandfather – she only saw him twice a year, after all, and that was largely out of a sense of duty – but he still felt he needed to deal with her question with tact.

"I've never seen him so frail," she said. "I shall miss him when he is gone, you know?"

"Of course, Miss."

Miss Templeton's parents were dead, so Lord Templeton was now the closest relative she had in her father's birth country. Her mother had died during her childbirth, but her father had died in the Great War, just ten years ago. That had effected her greatly, but with time she had recovered her smile.

"He may still have many years ahead," Toby tried to reassure her.

"I doubt that," she said sadly.

He looked up at her, and she grinned knowingly at him. For a moment, he was unsure what she was grinning knowlingly at, but then he realised that he was holding a pile of her underwear.

"Do you like serving me, Toby?" she asked, her voice sounding innocent but her face displaying something that was less than innocence.

"Of course, Miss," he replied.

"You're sure you're not just saying that because I might be your employer one day soon?"

"No, Miss," he said.

But a fire seemed to have ignited within his chest. He had never really stopped to think about it, but if Lord Templeton did die, the whole estate would go to his granddaughter – his nearest direct descendant. Toby would be employed by Miss Templeton. What would that be like?

"Good," she said with that satisfied smile, "I'll enjoy having you as my personal servant, Toby. I'll be able to tell you to do anything I want."

"You can do that now, Miss," he said – and it was true to some extent.

"No," she said, "not quite. I'll have you all to myself then, without my grandfather here to take you away when I most need you."

"Uh… of course, Miss," Toby said. The suitcases were, at last, emptied, and Toby stashed them away out of sight. He wanted to be out of there – he was sure Swainson would be wondering where he was. He walked back out of the wardrobe and was surprised to find that Miss Templeton had removed most of her clothes, and was now standing in merely her underwear. He avoided looking at her, but as she sat back down on the bed, her small petticoat riding up on those stunning legs, it was hard not to. She really was something, and he was really in trouble if anyone came into the room.

"Uh… will that be all, Miss?" he asked, praying that she would let him go. He was now trapped: if he walked out on her without being dismissed, he would be in trouble, but if he was caught in here with Miss Templeton in such a state, Lord Templeton would be informed and he would find his career prematurely ending.

"Will you not help me dress, Toby?" she asked innocuously.

"I…" he said, "I… I really should be seeing to your grandfather…"

She reached behind her to remove her petticoat, and he was given the most extraordinary sight of her slender thighs and elegant white lace knickers. It was incredible, quite taking his breath away. But it was also very strange: he had grown up with this girl, seeing her twice a year, helping her to enjoy her time at Medley Hall, an environment hardly suiting a young girl. Until a few years ago, he had never really been attracted to her, never really seen her as being of the opposite sex.

But now, he was afraid that he would not be able to stop seeing her that way. She was sitting there, asking him to take care of her personally – in a way that a maid usually did – dressed in only a few scraps of white lace and white cotton stockings with that sweet fragrance of her perfume so thick in the air. If he didn't get the sack, he was going to go crazy.

"You mean you refuse to help me?" she asked.

"I... uh..." Toby didn't know what to say.

"I'm kidding!" she giggled. "You go do whatever you have to do," she smiled. "You know, in America we don't have servants at all?"

"Of course, Miss," he said, gratefully retiring as she let out a last giggle and breezed through into the elegant bathroom.

3

While Lord Templeton had lunch with his granddaughter, below the stairs Toby ate his midday meal with the other members of staff. At the beginning of the meal, after grace, Swainson had publicly warned them all to take care while around young Miss Templeton, for though her American ways were less formal than they were used to, there was no excuse for sloppy behaviour.

Toby knew this warning was aimed at him more than anyone else, and it made him blush slightly. How he hated Swainson. How he wished the snotty butler would leave.

There was a certain amount of excitement around the table for the remainder of the meal, for the staff liked having Miss Templeton around - it was a connection to the outside world that normally wasn't made with Medley Hall. Alice and the other maids bore most of the conversation, feverishly gossiping about the little they knew about Miss Templeton's life and future plans.

Swainson was silent all meal - he never did hold any part of a conversation with the members of staff, he treated them as inferiors. Toby was also silent, for he had much to think about. It was clear that Swainson was gunning for his job, and that made him feel distinctly uncomfortable. But the image of Miss Templeton in her underwear was also prominent in his mind. He had not had much contact with the opposite sex - his job was so full-time that he never saw anyone not directly connected with Medley Hall, and the other members of staff were mostly much older than him.

He felt like a monk sometimes, but now he had had a vision of inestimable beauty, he felt real temptation - temptation that could ruin him. And there was Swainson, ready to watch him fall.

The meal was unpleasant: the tension between himself and the butler beginning to become unbearable. Towards the end of it, Toby was wondering if perhaps it might not be better for him to leave - hand in his notice before Swainson had the chance to sack him. At least then he'd have good references to take to another employer.

"Toby, they've nearly finished dessert."

Toby looked up to see Davenport pop his head round the door, his black brill-creamed hair glistening in the dull light. Well, if the Templetons had nearly finished dessert, then he'd be needed to assist Lord Templeton to wherever he wanted to go next.

"Thanks," he said, and excused himself from the table.

It was a relief to put his jacket back on and head out of the room, along the gloomy low-ceilinged corridor to the servants' stairs up to the ground floor. He waited outside the dining room until at last Jeffrey came out again, and ushered him inside.

The dining room was designed to seat a party of at least twenty - in his younger days, Lord Templeton had hosted many lavish occasions, but during Toby's recollection there had only been two notable gatherings in this room, both of which had been funeral-related. Now it was all but empty, for all its grandeur, with Lord Templeton sitting at one end, his daughter at the other - with what seemed like a mile between them.

"Ah, Toby," the elderly man smiled gratefully as his valet moved to his side to help him onto his feet. "I'll want you to take me to my study for this afternoon."

"Certainly, sir."

"Then I rather think young Lisa would like you to take her to play tennis."

"Ah, very good, sir."

Tennis. Well, at least it would take him out of the house, away from the accusatory eyes of Swainson. And an afternoon in the company of Miss Templeton would be pleasant enough. Toby looked at her now, and she flashed a smile back at him in a conspiratorial manner. Was she recalling her standing before him in her underwear - or was she planning on exhibiting herself again for him in the future? Toby smiled back, of course, in that meek way servants avoid becoming overtly involved in their superiors' lives, but he couldn't help but feel a slight tingle between his legs at the recollection of what he'd seen in Miss Templeton's bedroom.

"Right, I'll be fine, Toby - you may go and play your tennis."

"Thank you, sir."

"I wish I could watch you both play," the old man smiled, "but I fear I have far too much to do to be sitting around a tennis court all day."

"Of course, sir."

"Run along, then, young Toby."

It was quite exciting - he never normally got the opportunity to play tennis, it wasn't something the servants were supposed to do. It was only whenever Miss Templeton was around that he got the chance - and they couldn't play in the winter. It was a great game, though, really got the pulse racing. He hurried along to his room in the servants' quarters, changing into his white tennis clothes - unused for the last eleven months or so - and out to the back of the house where the immaculate grass courts were situated.

Miss Templeton was already there, practising her serves, and Toby just managed to stifle a gasp. He should have known - she always liked to wear that tight white blouse and short white skirt - but today, her skirt seemed just that much shorter than usual, her top that much tighter. Her exquisite feminine lines were really on show, and irresistible to the eye.

"Ready to go, Toby?" she asked.

"Ready," he said back, and she served.

One of the reasons Miss Templeton seemed to like playing Tennis was that Toby wasn't all that good at it. He simply didn't get any practice when she wasn't around, and it showed. But it was the servant's place to lose in favour of his employer - or his employer's daughter, in this case. On numerous winter evenings, Toby had dutifully lost various games of chess to her grandfather.

The game went on and on, and as they hit the ball backwards and forwards, both getting cheerfully sweaty in the warm sunlight, Miss Templeton asked Toby what seemed like pretty personal questions - such as whether or not he had a girlfriend. Toby felt awkward, but he answered her as best he could.

As they played, Toby couldn't help but look at her - it felt wrong to gain such pleasure watching her skirt ride up as she leaped for the ball, displaying her small cotton knickers underneath. It seemed wrong to be looking at her stunning curves, her sensational legs, her flat stomach and rounded chest. But she was his opponent, so he had to look at her anyway. That tingle between his legs, however, just wasn't going away.

The first set naturally went Miss Templeton's way, but in the fourth game of the second, Toby hit a ball into the far edge of the court, and when the young American girl launched herself after it, she lost her footing and stumbled. Toby dropped his racquet and rushed round as she ended up on the floor.

"Miss Templeton... are you all right?" he asked, stooping down beside her.

"It's my ankle, Toby - I think I've done something awful to it."

Gently, Toby placed his hand under her calf muscle and lifted the ankle up slightly. "It's swollen," he said, trying not to react to the fact that in such a position he could see up her skirt, between those milky thighs to her underwear. "We'd better get you inside, Miss - you need to lie down."

He helped her up, and just as he had spent most of his working life with her grandfather, he helped her stagger along back to the house. The difference this time was that as he helped Miss Templeton, he was forced to hold her quite close, and the proximity of her warm, soft skin and the sweet perfume she wore blended with that slightly musky odour of perspiration made his heart skip a beat here and there.

At last they got into the elevator, designed to aid Lord Templeton between floors, and eventually they came through to Miss Templeton's bedroom. Toby helped her to climb up onto the bed, and as he removed her shoes for her, he couldn't help but notice that she was giving him yet another view up her skirt - purposefully or not. But he couldn't be caught looking at her: it was far too tempting, and his job was still on the line.

"I'll go and get some ice from the ice house," he said to her, "it should help to stem the swelling, Miss."

"Oh Toby, don't bother," she said, "don't go to all that trouble - just stay here with me."

"It's no trouble, Miss - it'll be much better if you do. Oh, and we should raise it, too." He pulled a cushion from one of the nearby chairs, and placed it underneath her ankle, raising it up slightly so that the fluids would drain away from the swollen ankle. "My mother was a nurse, you know," he said, a sad tone sneaking into his voice, "before she was... well, during the Great War... anyway, I'd better inform your grandfather, at least."

Miss Templeton sighed, but Toby was gone. He hurried along to Lord Templeton's study, politely knocking on the door and waiting for the signal to enter.

There was no signal.

He knocked again, then believing his employer to have perhaps fallen asleep, he opened the door quietly and poked his head round to look inside.

The study was one of the cosiest rooms in the house - lined with fully-laden bookshelves, there was one wall filled with a great bay window and a small fire burned with warm orange light in a fireplace in another.

At the large desk by the window, Lord Templeton sat, hunched over. Silly old man - why did he not have Toby take him up to his bedroom? He usually ended up going to sleep after lunch these days - it was just his pride that made Toby take him to the study to 'work'.

"Sir? Lord Templeton, sir?" he said, but there was no stirring him.

Toby ventured forwards and called again. Nothing. He gently shook the old man's shoulder, calling him yet again. Still nothing.

Then a kind of cold horror swept through him, and he did what he'd read about in Sherlock Holmes mysteries. He touched the side of Lord Templeton's neck.

No pulse.

4

The doctor came promptly from the village after Swainson had called for him, pronouncing Lord Templeton's demise to have been caused by a heart attack. Old age, Doctor Miller had said to them, it had simply been the old man's time.

Before he went, Doctor Miller took a look at Miss Templeton's ankle. Toby had gone to fetch her for one last look at her grandfather before the body was removed for the funeral, but now Doctor Miller told him to take her back up to the bedroom, that she should rest it for the couple of days before her grandfather's funeral. Doctor Miller also confirmed what Toby had said beforehand, that they should get some ice from the ice house and place it on the swelling, having raised it first.

So Toby took her back up to her room, raised her ankle on the cushion again and then went to fetch some ice.

Miss Templeton had been shocked by the death of her grandfather - they all had - but she wasn't all that upset. It was true enough that she hadn't ever spent much time with Lord Templeton while he had been alive, and he had never been the kind of man to show affection to anyone, so it was no great surprise that she wasn't crying her eyes out.

Toby scampered out of the back door of the house, along the small path through the trees to the ice house. It was getting late now - they'd been playing tennis for longer than he thought, it was beginning to turn to evening already, the sun turning orange in the sky. The ice house was a small building that looked like the pictures he had seen of igloos in the frozen arctic - only made of stone. In the winter time they all spent quite a time packing the place with snow, and with the position of the building under the trees and away from the sun, the snow lasted for most of the year. Grabbing a bag full of ice, he wound his way back through the darkening woods and back inside.

In her bedroom, Toby found Miss Templeton lying back against the pillows, her legs outstretched with her wounded ankle up on the cushion. That tiny pleated white skirt was now high on her thighs, but it was hiding her underwear this time.

"Here we are, Miss," he said, trying to make his voice sound cheerful.

"Thank you, Toby," she smiled, "you're a gem."

The ice was already beginning to melt through the thin cotton bag he had carried it in, he felt it so cold against his bare arms. Before placing it on her swollen ankle, he placed a couple of handkerchiefs around it - it wasn't good to let the ice touch her skin too closely, it would damage her skin and lead to more problems than it relieved.

"Just doing my job, Miss," he smiled, and it was done. "Now, the doctor said you were to rest it until your grandfather's funeral."

"Oh God, that'll be so dull!" she sighed again. "And I had counted on going up to London tomorrow."

"Can I get you a book or the newspaper, Miss? Or perhaps we could have the gramophone or the wireless brought in..."

"No," she said, "I don't feel like that... Toby... will you stay with me a while?"

"Of course, Miss."

"I like having you around."

"Thank you, Miss."

Toby sat down on the chair. His heart beat had soared again - the whole uncertainty of what was going to happen now that Lord Templeton was dead had affected all of the staff. They all knew that the estate would pass directly to Miss Templeton now - Lady Templeton, presumably, she would become officially - but what would she do with it? Were their jobs secure? Would she even keep the estate? Plenty of young titles were selling estates nowadays, since it did cost quite a lot to continue running such large houses. And Miss Templeton had her roots in the United States, where she would presumably want to return.

"It's funny," she said after a pause. "I've known you for such a long time, Toby."

"Yes, Miss."

"I've pretty much grown up with you - albeit only seeing you from time to time." She turned her head to look at him. "It's funny to think I'm now your employer."

"Yes, Miss." Toby didn't know what to say. It was a little odd being employed by a young girl the same age as you, but Toby had been a servant all his life, he knew his place.

"I can tell you to do whatever I want you to," she said, and he thought he detected a little spark light up in her pretty brown eyes.

"You could before, Miss," he replied meekly, "I am here to serve."

"No," she smiled, "before you were my grandfather's servant, not mine. Sure, you'd do as I asked, but there was always him first. And that awful butler passing judgement with his snooty looks." Toby couldn't help but chuckle at that. "I know," she said, "I've seen them whenever you've been with me for a little while, he glares at you. I saw it."

"Swainson was only protecting your grandfather's wishes," Toby said out of some kind of duty to the butler - who was, after all, still technically above him in the food chain.

"Oh nonsense!" Miss Templeton said. "He's a tiresome bore. Anyway... enough of him. Now my grandfather is gone, and you are my personal servant, Toby."

"I'm honoured, Miss," Toby said.

"I can get you to do whatever I want you to," she said, her face lit up as though she was excited at the prospects of her complete power over him. Toby felt himself shiver with nerves.

"To some extent, Miss," Toby smiled.

"To some extent?" she looked at him quizzically.

"I am a servant, Miss," he said politely, "and not a slave."

"What's the difference?" she asked, never having thought about it before. Servants had always been there for her when she was at Medley Hall, and none had ever refused her wishes.

"Ultimately, a slave is forced to carry out his master's wishes, Miss - a servant chooses to serve and is paid for that service. A slave can be abused, a servant can hand in his notice if he feels he is being mistreated."

"I see," she said, "and so you would hand in your notice if I mistreated you?"

"Of course, Miss," he replied, "but I feel there's very little you could do that I would consider mistreatment."

Miss Templeton smiled. "So basically I can tell you to do whatever I want?"

"If it is in my power to grant, Miss."

"Oh good," she said, "then will you do something for me to take my mind off this terrible pain in my ankle?"

"I'll fetch some morphine, Miss," he said, rising to his feet.

"No, Toby. I don't want morphine."

He stopped midway to the door, and turned to find her skirt had ridden up once again, this time to show a small white edge of her knickers underneath.

"What would you like me to do, Miss?" he asked, his whole chest now seeming to throb with that powerful heart beat.

"I want you to touch me, Toby."

There was a moment, a silence, a pause, when he could see on her face that Miss Templeton was wondering if she had gone too far, if it was too much, if she had abused the servant-employer relationship. She brushed her skirt back down over her thighs, her face blushing slightly now that she was questioning her action. Was Toby outraged? Was he going to hand in his notice now?

"I'll close the door, Miss," he said, and a jolt of sheer excitement shot down her spine.

5

There was a key in the lock, and Toby turned it to bar anyone else's entry into the room. Now, at last, he was alone with his new employer and there was no chance that they would be disturbed. She could command him to do anything and there was no threat to Toby's job or his career.

As he sat on the edge of his bed next to the beautiful auburn-haired girl lying there in her tennis clothes, Toby realised that his penis was already hard in anticipation of the possibilities his new employer might open up.

"What would you like me to do first, Miss?" he asked, his voice soft and humble.

"You'll do anything I ask?" her eyes were aflame, her lips quivering slightly with indisputable want.

"Anything," Toby replied, keeping his hands politely together in his lap.

"Anything at all?" she still couldn't quite believe just how much power she now had over him. Before, he had been the servant of her grandfather, and she had spent her life growing up in a fairly normal American household - her rich grandfather had been an ocean and a lifestyle away from her, someone to visit twice a year and be mildly amused at such a change in ways. Now, though, she was the head of this massive mansion, and this handsome boy was her own personal servant, paid from her own money, responsible to no one but herself.

"Anything," he repeated, and smiled as her own pretty mouth stretched into an excited grin.

"Oh Toby," she said, "you've no idea how I've dreamed of this moment. I hardly know where to start."

"I can leave you to yourself if you'd like some privacy, Miss," he said, unsure of what she wanted from him.

"Oh no, no, not at all. It's just... I don't know... I've always seen you as a friend mostly - a playmate rather than a servant. You were my grandfather's servant..."

"And now I'm your servant, Miss," he said reassuringly.

"You know, I've often wished you weren't a servant, Toby. Then we might have had a chance..."

"We can't all change what we are, Miss."

"Oh, but you're wrong about that," she said, placing a hand upon his knee now that he was turned to face her, "and some day I'll show you how wrong you are."

"What would you like me to do, Miss?" he asked once again - the need to serve that was somehow ingrained into his character revealing itself once more. "Shall I run you a nice warm bath? I can always get Alice to come up and give you a hand getting into it..."

"Mmm... maybe later - but I won't need Alice. You're my servant now, Toby, my personal servant. If anyone helps me get into a warm bath, you will." She looked at him with a mischievous smirk.

"I'm honoured, Miss," he replied, and he felt her hand moving steadily up his thigh, caressing him through the thin cotton of his white trousers.

"You'll have to help me get these clothes off, of course," Miss Templeton said, "I can't cope with it all now that my ankle's the way it is."

"Of course, Miss," Toby said. "When you want me to run the bath, just tell me. It won't take a minute."

"Mmm..." there was a dreamy look in Miss Templeton's eyes. Now, though, she shook it out of herself. "What about this pain in my ankles?" she said. "I thought I asked you to do something about it, Toby."

"What would you like me to do about it?" he asked.

"Well, I think you're going to have to kiss it better, Toby, don't you?"

"Yes, Miss."

She was smiling now, loving her control over him, and Toby loved to serve her - there was no one in the world he would rather serve. Carefully, he removed the bag of half-melted ice and dropped it onto the floor beside the bed, then he crawled over the bed so that he could gently lift her ankle and stoop to touch the swollen flesh softly with his warm lips. It was very cool to his touch from the contact with the ice.

"Mmm..." Miss Templeton moaned quietly at the first real contact with her new personal servant as he planted delicate kisses over her sore ankle.

"Toby?"

"Yes, Miss?"

"I think it might be nice if you kiss me here instead..."

"Certainly, Miss."

She pointed to her shin, and he followed her finger and planted another kiss where she indicated, then around to her slender calf muscle.

"Mmm..." she purred, "I like that. You're the best, Toby, you know that? Now why don't you try here..."

She pointed to her knee, and he did as he was told like a good servant. Her skin was so deliciously smooth, its soft warmth flavoured with the sharp salinity remaining from the sheen of perspiration she'd worked up during their game of tennis.

"Oh God..." she moaned quietly, "that is nice. But now I think you should kiss me... here..."

Her legs were now apart, and being careful not to knock her cushion-mounted ankle, Toby knelt on the bed between her knees, bending down to kiss her inner thighs, just where she was telling him to. He was kissing her pale skin just by the edge of her white pleated tennis skirt now, and along with her sweet perfume and that slightly musky post-exercise aroma emanating from her exquisite body, he detected a new, stronger odour and seemed to stir something within him. Was that her arousal?

He was so inexperienced - all his knowledge came from a few drunken conversations with boys in the village, conversations that had all been pretty one-sided, with him making it look as though he knew what the other boys were talking about, but in reality virtually everything they said was new to his ears. So he had heard about what it was like doing such things with girls - but he'd never experienced it himself.

"Now kiss me here," his employer told him, pulling up her skirt slightly to give him access further up those shapely thighs.

Gradually, that spicy fragrance strengthened, and with his mouth and nose so close to the upper limits of her thighs, he knew that it truly was her arousal. Such a thing thrilled him in a way he had never been thrilled before. Kissing both her thighs where she told him, he found himself waiting for her very next instruction with his heart in his throat.

"Oh Toby," she said, her expression seeming to want him to go on, but realising that he shouldn't. "I think I should take my bath before you go any further... all that exercise I've had this afternoon..."

"I don't mind, Miss," he said, looking up at her with earnest eyes. He had got to a stage now where he was desperate to please her, and also to experience her in ways he'd never experienced with the opposite sex before. He didn't want the delay a bath would bring. But he was the servant, it was not up to him.

"Go and run the bath then, Toby," she said. "Then you can help me undress."

He kissed her lightly on the inner thigh one last time, breathing in one last lung full of her scintillating scent - so close, and yet so far. Then it was into the bathroom to start the water flowing into the bathtub.

With the water flowing - it would take some minutes to fill the tub sufficiently, he returned to Miss Templeton's side.

"Help me take my top off, Toby," she said, and he put his hands to her waist, grabbing hold of the bottom of her white blouse.

His fingers touched her smooth stomach, and he was quite surprised just how warm her skin was. She put her arms up to allow him to pull the garment up and over her head, but as he pulled it up her stomach and over her chest, Toby purposefully allowed his hands to gently brush over her shapely breasts and past her stiffened little nipples. She responded to his touch overtly, and once the garment was off and over her head, her bare breasts presented to his wide eyes, her gaze fastened onto his.

"Oh Toby," she sighed, "I'm burning up all over."

"Is there anything I can do, Miss?"

"I think you'd better kiss me again."

"Anywhere in particular, Miss?" he asked.

"Here."

She pointed to her lips now, and couldn't help but smile. Toby smiled briefly in return, then leaned forwards to kiss her mouth. The contact was incredible: like tasting sweetened cream, the softness and sweetness of her lips electrified his senses. He felt her deepening breaths warm against his face as he explored her mouth with his. It was his first real kiss, and it was exquisite. As he kissed her, he gave into temptation and moved his hands up to run his fingers through her silky auburn hair, sweeping down to caress her soft, warm cheeks as he kissed her.

At last, they parted, and Miss Templeton looked into his eyes in astonishment.

"Toby, you are the most incredible person I've ever met!" she said breathlessly.

"Thank you, Miss," he said, not used to such lavish praise. He tried to keep his eyes focussed on hers - though with those phenomenal naked breasts presented before him, it was hard to do so. She really was extraordinarily beautiful.

"I'm still burning up, though," she said. "I think you'll have to kiss me here now."

She smiled wickedly, and her hands moved to her breasts. Between his thighs, Toby's rock-hard cock struggled for room inside those tight trousers of his. He'd never in his life felt so exhilarated as he did now.

Dutifully, he stooped and his hands moved down over her shoulders to take hold of her stunningly rounded breasts - so incredibly soft to the touch. His lips touched the base of her breasts, still detecting that sharp saltiness of her skin, and as his fingers caressed her hot flesh, his kisses drew nearer and nearer to her stiff pink buds. When at last he drew one of them inside his lips, his hot mouth enveloping it with a slight - but strengthening - suction, he heard her breathing react to the new sensation, and a low groan rumbled within her chest.

"Oh Toby..." she moaned as he nibbled on her nipple, flickering his tongue over it. "Don't forget the other, Toby, don't forget the other... ohhh..."

He did as he was told, and he was amused to find that as he did so, while also gently fondling her breasts in his strong hands, her moans kept on coming - and more, they grew gradually in pitch and intensity until he was sure she was going to burst.

But she didn't burst, because just before she seemed certain to reach some kind of peak, he broke away from her.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, her voice slightly husky as though she had just awoken from a long sleep.

"Miss - the bath... it'll be near to full by now."

He pulled away from her, and dashed back into the bathroom - sure enough, the water level was within an inch or so of the edge of the tub: any more, and there would be a flood for certain. He stopped the water - the level would drop as the excess drained through the overflow outlet - and tested the temperature before walking back into the bedroom.

"Is it ready for me?" Miss Templeton asked, still lying there without her top. She looked good enough to eat.

"It's a little warm at the moment, Miss," he said.

"Are we going to have to wait for it to cool down a little, Toby?"

"I'm afraid so, Miss."

"Mmm... good," she grinned, "because I'm beginning to feel the pain from my ankle again."

"I'll see what I can do, Miss," he said, and moved back to the bed.

Again, he kissed her ankle, but the response from his employer was one of quiet disappointment.

"Toby, you're kissing in the wrong place," she said, joking a little but with an underlying seriousness that matched her need. She had been near to orgasm from his tender touch before, when he had been showing such wonderful attention to her breasts and her stiff pink buds, and now she felt that initial excitement begin to fade.

"You'd like me to kiss you here instead?" he asked her, his smile showing her that he knew she wanted him to touch her chest, but that he had something better in mind. Now he kissed her upper shins, and a spark of recognition at what he had planned came alive in her eyes.

"You're sure?" she asked, faltering in her position as the one giving the orders.

"Of course, Miss," Toby asserted politely, "whatever you wish, naturally."

And then, for perhaps the first time, Toby saw that she realised that she truly could tell him to do whatever she wanted, and he would do it. She did not have to stop and think about what he wanted. He was her servant. She paid him to serve.

"Then kiss me here..." she pointed to her lower thighs, "I think that might help."

He moved up gently over her knees, again taking care not to knock her injured ankle, kissing her soft salty skin to where she directed him, breathing in her thickening scent as he drew closer and closer to the edge of her skirt.

"Here, Toby, now here." She pulled her skirt up slightly, so that he could now see the base of her white cotton knickers, which seemed to Toby quite the most thrilling sight he'd yet seen, especially with the apparent moisture soaking through the thin material. He kissed her inner thighs now, as he was directed, the saline flavour strengthening just as her spicy fragrance was, close to overwhelming his senses as he continued to caress her with his mouth.

"Oh... Toby... kiss me here..." her voice was becoming steadily more husky and incoherent as she now pulled her white pleated skirt up to reveal most of her moist underwear, telling her personal servant to kiss her now at the very upper-most limits of her thighs, at the edge of her simple white knickers.

He kissed along the edge of her underwear, as directed, from the highest point he could reach under her skirt slowly downward towards her upper thighs again, and as he did so he detected a new flavour, blending in with the salt from her perspiration. Of course, he knew what it was, it corresponded to the aroma now saturating the air around him - the tangy taste of her arousal. His lips moved up the other side of her underwear, keeping to the edge, but he was ready to move in now.

"Touch me here, Toby," she told him, her fingers from one shaking hand moving over her mound now.

"Here, Miss?" he asked playfully, moving his mouth so that his lips now grazed her upper mound.

"No, lower," she said, her voice becoming little more than a breathless whisper from her pure sexual need. "Lower, Toby, lower."

He did exactly as he was told, dragging his hot mouth down to where the white cotton covering her was soaking wet with her juices, and her spicy scent filled his nostrils. He pressed his tongue against Miss Templeton's knickers and tasted her raw, undiluted femininity for the first time, a flavour like none he had ever tasted, a flavour that seemed tailored to his taste buds, a flavour that he could sample again and again until Kingdom come.

"Oh my God..." his employer moaned breathlessly as he used his tongue to explore what lay beneath those cotton knickers, tracing out the contours of her private place. "Oh Toby, I think you'd better take them off me..."

For a moment, he delayed carrying out the order, happy to caress her with his mouth and nose, wondering at the beauty of her shape, indulging in the aroma and flavour of her arousal but delaying the revealing of the complete magnificence hidden beneath as if to savour that moment-before, that glimpse in time just before the approach of pure heaven.

"Toby... take them off," she ordered him, and he had no choice but to comply, reaching up underneath her skirt to find the waist of the underwear before gently peeling them down her soft, warm skin.

Bit by bit, she was revealed to him, and as he lay there on the bed, his cock hardened to its full extent beneath him, pressing into the mattress as he uncovered first her small patch of reddish pubic hair, then the small pink button that had to be her clitoris and then seeming to pour from her clitoris, the pink glistening folds of her labia around the delicate aperture that was her vagina.

As he continued to draw her underwear away down her thighs, she moved her legs to help him remove the unwanted article, and his face was back between her thighs, marvelling at the display before him.

"Kiss me here, Toby," she breathed an order, one of her fingers touching her moist labia.

"Here, Miss?" His lips touched down gently on her labia, opening slightly to allow him to take his first taste from the source of her spice.

"Ohh... yes..." she purred, her hand now moving to gently touch his head, her fingers running through his hair encouraging him as his hot mouth enveloped her pussy, that wonderful tongue of his snaking out to penetrate her aching vagina.

Toby's employer could only lie back now, it was just too much for her to concentrate on giving him orders, so he did what the finest servants were bred to do as pure instinct: anticipate. The longer a servant spent serving a particular employer, the more he would learn by heart his employer's habits and his employer's needs. After some years in the service of that employer, he might know so much about his employer - down to the finest details - that he would be able to anticipate most of his employer's needs before his employer even needed to ask. That was what Toby hoped to build up with this new employer: he would tend to her need almost before she even knew she had the need. But that would come in time. For now, he would have to use guesswork to a large extent.

For a while, he treated her pussy as though it were her mouth, kissing it passionately with the aid of his tongue, gentle yet forceful, exploring her and seeking out her most sensitive parts and also her wonderful tangy juices that seemed to be flowing fairly constantly now. Her pink folds were so warm and soft against his face, his nose gently brushing over her stiffened clitoris and through her soft, rusty-coloured pubic hairs, and with her thighs touching his ears now, her hand gently pressing his head to her pussy, it seemed like the most natural place to be in the world. It almost seemed odd that he should have to wait nearly two decades to get to such a position.

"Oh... Oh Toby..." she moaned again and again as he licked her quivering labia and lapped at her juices, which were like sweet nectar, there to reward the busy bee for his endeavour. And there certainly was ample reward for his endeavour: her stickiness everywhere, over her and over him, he was bathing in sweet ambrosia.

He moved his hands now, from where they gently held her shapely hips, round so that his fingers could now embalm themselves in her oils and glide between her smouldering pussy lips to explore deeper inside her than his tongue could reach alone. As his dextrous digits delved deeply, his mouth moved gently upwards, still occasionally lapping up her bounty, but now focussing around her clitoris, enveloping the tiny organ in the sizzling heat between his soft lips, his tongue swirling around its edge.

Miss Templeton responded to this new wave of confrontation, letting out a sharper, more forceful gasp as the shivers of electricity shot up her spine as Toby periodically sucked her clit as well. Both of her hands now moved to secure his head, and her thighs tightened around his ears with her desperation that he should not break away before she reached the peak of her journey. There was no bath water to stop now, and Toby - as the dutiful servant that he was - would not stop now until he was released by his employer.

Joy seemed to blossom within Toby as he continued to taste her succulent juices and explore her feminine secrets, because Miss Templeton was responding so passionately to his tender ministration, her gasps and moans breathlessly building up again in intensity and pitch as they had done before, when he had touched her breasts.

Nothing should make a good servant happier than for his employer to be satisfied by his service. Toby had no doubt that his employer was satisfied by his current service, for now her whole body seemed to quiver and tremble, and her moans became near-screams. He felt the muscles within her soft vagina begin to press his finger, gripping it as he rocked it gently within her.

"Oh God, Toby... Oh God..." she whispered forcefully, and he felt a sudden deluge of her warm juices running over his finger from her vagina, and as her thighs released his head, he moved to lap up her sweet flood of come.

Miss Templeton spread her legs further apart now, indeed her entire body seemed to fall limp from the aftermath of Toby's tending. The sudden release from the enclosure of her flesh made Toby realise just how hot it had been within her thighs: he felt the breeze cooling his face now in a refreshing way as he dutifully washed the remaining stickiness from around his employer's pussy.

"Toby, that was absolutely divine," she said to him, her chest still heaving as she steadily regained her normal breathing pattern.

"I'm glad you're satisfied with my service, Miss," he said modestly.

"Oh, I'm more than satisfied," she purred, and gently stroked his head as he continued to gently clean her pulsating mound, "I've never felt anything like that before. Tell me, have you served many girls in your career?"

"You're the first, Miss," he said, his tongue catching the final drops of moisture from between her inner and outer labia.

"Mmm..." she moaned, "I'm going to enjoy having you as my servant, Toby."

But then there came a frantic knocking at the door of the bedroom.

"Miss Templeton? Miss Templeton? Are you all right?" Swainson's desperate voice came muffled through the door. "Miss? I heard screams..."

Miss Templeton looked down at Toby and they shared a disgruntled sigh. "You'd better clear it up, Toby," she said. "I'll go and see if that bath has cooled down yet.

"Very good, Miss," Toby said, and pulled himself up from the bed. He waited a moment until she had gone through into the bathroom, then he approached the door, unlocking it before opening it.

Swainson was outside, looking all red in the face. On seeing Toby there, his face darkened, those irritatingly large black eyebrows sinking into a menacing scowl.

"What are you doing here?" the butler demanded. "Where's Miss Templeton, and what have you done to her?"

"She's in the bathroom," Toby said, "I've been attending to her."

"Like hell you have, you little rascal," the butler glared at him, "you've gone too far this time: you shouldn't be in Miss Templeton's private quarters with this door locked. What on Earth do you think you were doing?"

"I was attending to her injured ankle," Toby said, silently amused at Swainson's sheer superiority complex.

"Well by the sounds of it, you weren't doing a good job," the butler pushed past him into the room. "Miss Templeton? Are you all right? Shall I fetch the doctor for you?"

Toby didn't know quite what to say. He could hardly tell Swainson to leave, for he was technically below him in rank.

Gaining no response from Miss Templeton, Swainson - still confident in his own status above Toby - turned on the young valet.

"Your conduct around Miss Templeton is unbecoming for a servant," Swainson hissed, "you've obviously been affected by her to such an extent that you've forgotten your manners and you've abused your position here at Medley Hall."

Toby felt that hot sensation of pure dread seeping into his stomach at such a harsh rebuke.

"And frankly," Swainson said, "I've had enough of it. You'll fetch your things and be gone before the supper bell rings."

Below the red-hot rage coursing through Swainson's stupid face, Toby thought he detected a hint of pleasure, the kind of pleasure a cruel sadist gained from inflicting pain on a vulnerable inferior. Now Toby really didn't know what to do.

Swainson had sacked him.

6

"Well? What are you waiting for? Get out!" Swainson raged.

Toby was shaking a little now. Surely Miss Templeton would intervene? Otherwise... maybe he was sacked, after all. What if Miss Templeton hadn't inherited the estate? What if Swainson knew for a fact that the estate was passing to some other obscure relative of the late Lord Templeton. That would mean that Miss Templeton would have no power at all, that she was not the employer, that Toby's career was in ruins.

"Swainson," her voice came from the bathroom door, and both men turned to look that way when they heard it. And both men's eyes widened in surprise.

Miss Templeton was standing in the doorway without a stitch on her exquisite body. Her bare breasts, her smooth stomach, the small patch of reddish pubic hair above her pink vaginal lips between those shapely thighs... all on show like a model posing for an artist.

Swainson's jaw dropped as Toby's mouth curved into a smile.

"Swainson, he was carrying out my orders," the young heiress said, "I asked him to help take my mind off the pain in my ankle and that is what he did - in quite the most spectacular way."

"Ah, of course, Miss," Swainson said meekly, trying to hide the shock and embarrassment he was currently experiencing.

Toby marvelled at his employer's courage - he'd never be able to stand naked in front of someone like Swainson. It was having an effect, though. It put Miss Templeton well and truly in a position of power.

"From what I've seen," Miss Templeton went on, tilting her hips slightly as if to flaunt her beautiful nudity, "you've been trying to get rid of Toby for a while, Swainson."

"Of course not, Miss," Swainson protested, "it's just his behaviour over the past few years..."

"His behaviour's been impeccable," the auburn-haired girl said, "if anything it's been my fault for causing a distraction for him. He's always served me to perfection - and will do many years in the future, I would hope."

"Yes, Miss," Swainson was blushing severely: there's nothing as embarrassing to a person in any position of power than to have someone ranked above him rebuking him for reprimanding an inferior. "Of course, Miss."

"Whereas you, Swainson..." she went on, taking two steps towards him, quietly enjoying the disturbing conflict of feelings she was inflicting on the stuffy old butler with her overt nudity and harsh words. "I don't see you in my future."

"Uh... no miss?" Horror now blanched the butler's face. He could see what was coming now, and it was the cruellest of ironies for a man like him.

"No, I see no place for a self-righteous, stuffy man like you in my staff," she put her hands on her hips. Toby was doing his best to stifle laughter, while at the same time finding it terribly difficult to keep his eyes on the conversation rather than his employer's divine curves.

"So of course, there'll be good references for you, Swainson, but I'll ask you to hand in your notice and be on your way as soon as possible."

"Uh... very good, Miss," Swainson said, acknowledging defeat. At least he would have references - more than Toby would have had if he'd been sacked.

At last, the butler sheepishly left the room to prepare for his exit from Medley Hall, and Toby closed the bedroom door once again.

"There," Miss Templeton said, "now I feel much better, don't you, Toby?"

Toby grinned, "yes, Miss."

"Now," she stepped in front of him and stretched up to kiss him gently on the lips, "much as I enjoyed that tongue bath, Toby, I think it's time you gave me a proper bath."

"Yes, Miss," he said, and it was his prerogative to carry out his employer's wishes.

She led him by the hand through to the bathroom, where the tub sat full of warm, soapy water. As she stepped in, Toby found himself still irresistibly drawn to the sight of her - he just couldn't believe how lucky he was to have become such a personal servant to this angelic-looking girl.

"Now, you're going to have to get rid of those clothes, Toby," she said as she sat, the water covering her up to the base of those exquisite breasts.

"Yes, Miss," he said, and began to slowly unbutton his white shirt.

"Mmm... take them all off," Miss Templeton purred, and Toby saw that she was touching herself as she watched him undress. As his shirt came off, and then his shoes, he locked his eyes on hers, feeling warmth and excitement building up within him as he saw her respond to his gradual shedding of clothes.

His trousers came off, and she let out a small moan of desire, perhaps seeing the hardness of his manhood through his tight underwear. He removed his socks, and then looked up at his employer once again for the final order.

"Take them off," she said, and watched as he slowly peeled away his underwear to reveal the rigid shaft within. "Oh my," she smiled, "I really am going to enjoy having you as my personal servant."

"And I'll enjoy being your personal servant, Miss," Toby replied, and stepped into the bath.

Miss Templeton stood up and pressed her body to his, the irresistible sensation sweeping through the servant's nerves as he felt her soft skin touch his, her breasts press against his chest, her warm abdomen crushing his hard cock between them.

"Will you wash me, now, Toby?" she asked, kissing him again briefly on the lips.

"Of course, Miss," he said softly, and he stooped to find the sponge and dip it into the bath water.

He started at her shoulders, and as he ran the warm, wet sponge over her skin, he kissed her skin wherever it had been touched, as if to seal in the cleanliness. Over her arms the sponge and his lips glided, over her breasts and her nipples, under her arms and across her back, and she turned to assist him in reaching wherever he needed to reach. Down to her stomach and over her behind, he washed and he kissed, through her patch of soft pubic hair and over her mound, over her thighs and through the soft valley of her pussy, then finally down her thighs to her legs and feet.

She'd never had such a sensual bath, and as he tended to her, she emitted little moans, particularly as he moved over the more sensitive regions, reminding her of the sensations she felt earlier, as he had buried his face between her thighs.

"Oh Toby, you are so amazing - I want you to bathe me whenever I need bathing from now until the day I die..."

"Of course, Miss," he replied with a smile, "nothing would please me more."

"But there's one place you haven't quite taken care of yet," she said with a grin, and kissed him on the lips again.

"There is, Miss? I thought I'd covered pretty much everywhere..."

"Sit down, Toby," she said, and naturally enough, he did so.

For a moment, she stood above him, and he looked up her exquisite body lapping up such an extraordinarily beautiful sight. Her breasts so full yet so pert, her nipples stiff and urging to be touched, her slender curves so breathtakingly striking, her patch of amber hairs directing his eyes to her velvet folds, once again glistening in the light with her arousal.

Now she sank down, sitting astride his thighs. "There's only one way you can reach it," she said, reaching forwards to kiss his mouth as her fingers clutched his hardened shaft.

"Will you show me, Miss?" Toby asked.

"Here," she said, and he felt her place the head of his cock at the burning hot entrance to her vagina, "now push inside me."

Toby's eyes widened at the incredible sensations he was feeling at such intimate contact with his employer, and he couldn't quite stifle a deep groan as he felt his penis slip inside her soft, wet, hot pussy. He was inside her, and it was the most wonderful feeling in the world.

"Oh that's so good..." she breathed as his hands moved up to touch her breasts. "Oh, Toby, you've no idea how long I've wanted this... oh God it feels so good..."

He kissed her mouth while his fingers coaxed her soft breasts and teased her delicate nipples, but it was the auburn-haired girl who began the slow rhythm below, gyrating her his gently to stir his hardness within her. Her hands moved up to his head, her fingers running through his hair as they kissed more and more passionately, and Toby began to reflect the motion of her hips with his own.

Soon it was as if there was nothing except their connection: Toby found that all five of his senses were occupied in experiencing her, her beauty, her taste, her fragrance, her sounds and her touch, and it was if the rest of the world no longer existed, like some from of tunnel vision but involving all the senses.

There movement together grew steadily more and more feverish, and Toby realised his own moans were rising in intensity and pitch in the same way hers had on two occasions before, and it was directly proportionate to the rising sensation of burning fire within him.

"Oh God, Toby," she broke away from his kiss suddenly, breathlessly, urgently, "Oh God Toby, take me now..." she demanded, her eyes flickering between his, "take me completely... come inside me..."

And of course, Toby was a dutiful servant, he never declined the demands of an employer.

Her hands drew his head to hers once again, and she smothered his mouth with hers, while Toby's hands moved round to hold her shapely behind, pulling her towards him closer and tighter, his burning shaft filling her pulsating vagina completely.

As her moans became screams, he felt it the perfect time to relax control on his own body, and go with the flow. The rhythm of their motion together accelerated to a blissful tempo, and the soaking walls of her tight vagina ignited an explosive force within his engorged cock, Toby felt himself coming in the most powerful way. Just before it came, though, he looked into her eyes - so pretty, so intelligent, so beautiful - and she smiled as she realised that this was his first time.

Her body shuddered as the immense orgasm flood through her system, and here eyes looked skywards for a brief moment from the sheer intensity of it before resting on his again just that split second before the explosion rocketed through his own body, blooming out in raw ravishing flames from his huge throbbing penis as it splashed his hot seed inside her.

He moaned deeply as the most incredible sensation of satisfaction took over his body - such a feeling of satisfaction he had never felt before. And for a long while it seemed, he just sat there, holding her close to him, his cock buried deep within her, his heart pounding within his chest, his mind a complete blur.

Then her kiss drew him out of his daze.

"Wow," she said simply, "that was incredible."

"I... I... I... hope I was to your satisfaction, Miss," he said breathlessly.

"Oh God, yes," she said with the most beautiful smile. "Now I have definitely made up my mind about you, Toby."

"You have, Miss?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "How do you feel about coming to America with me?"

"America, Miss?" Toby had felt there was nothing left for him to experience now, his body was so aflame with sensations, but this new information sparked something new within him. America? That was the other side of the ocean... he would see places he'd only ever dreamt of seeing... travel had simply never been something people like him could ever hope to indulge in.

"Yes," she said, "and other places - we'll be travelling all over the world of course. How do you feel about coming along with me... you know... to be my personal servant wherever I go?"

There weren't sufficient words to describe how much pure joy was now circulating in Toby's body. But somehow, perhaps from the generations of instinct bred into him, Toby managed to control himself.

"It would be my privilege to serve you, Miss," he said, "wherever that may be."

"Oh good," Miss Templeton purred in blissful contentment, "I do love having you serve me, Toby."

And she was thrilled to find that his penis was becoming hard once again inside her.