A new house, I needed a new cook so I arranged to interview and sample the wares of those who offered them.
1888 Yorkshire
The new house seemed horribly empty devoid as it was of servants. I had but recently acquired it as part of a gambling debt and had come to make a brief assessment.
First impressions were that of a dismal location guaranteed to shorten anyone’s life with a bout of pheumonia. The house was by far the most imposing of any in the village having been the mine owner’s house before the adjacent coal mine closed. Serried ranks of miners abodes still clung to the hillside but each daybreak the men of the village formed up like a brigade of militia and marched three miles to Danby New pit where the coal seams ran deep and true.
Standing on its own raised above the road the house reared upto the sky with the chimneys seemingly touching the lowering rain clouds and the rain seemed to be a permanent feature of the area.
Long experience led me to advertise for staff in a town some way away, local seving maids would all to often steal items like prime cuts of meat for their families and throw away perfectly good bedding and the like which their families and friends then purloined.
Obtaining staff from nearby but not too near obviated this problem.
Thus it occurred that I arrived at one quarter past eight on the first train from Mansfield having spent an uncomfortable night in the station hotel. I unlocked the property and ushered in a locally recruited char woman who I had engaged to light my fires.
She toiled ineffectively and eventually achieved a great deal of smoke if little heat and with various clocks persuaded into life the house began to look vaguely homely the furniture having been acquired with the property.
My interviews started at eleven of the clock, two housemaids, remarkably stupid giggling maids, I rapidly engaged when they proved incapable of working out how many hours there are in a week as one example of their stupidity.
Cook was however a different matter, needing a measure of skill rather than a great deal of stupidity.
The first applicant had as requested brought an apple tart she had made. She was quite comely,a spinster probably, well spoken but the pie, well one bite was enough and she was back on the doorstep almost before she had sat down.
The next applicant was a widow, quite rotund as if she enjoyed her own cooking. I chatted to her for a while before sampling the pie which she had brought and had insisted on heating on the range. I cut a slice. It was a meat pie.
“What is the meaning of this?” I demanded.
“No good a fine genteman like you having an apple pie for his lunch, why it would be bitter on the tongue, far better to have some meat and buld up your strength.” she insisted.
“So you know my mind better than I do you?” I retorted.
“That I do and any time now you will make me an offer of employment,” she said, “My previous employer gave me reference saying I gave complete satisfaction.”
“Yes so I see,” I agreed as I read exactly that on the letter of reference she had provided.
“So do I have the position?” she asked.
“You are extremely forward, I feel there might be some friction so therefore I am afraid not.” I admitted.
“Now don’t be too hasty,” she said quietly, "When my master said I gave complete satisfaction that’s what I gave him, especially as his missus wasn’t too keen on hanky panly, I could do the same for you if you wanted.”
“Enough, I do not wish to discuss this further,” I insisted.
“Well think on,” she snooped. “You soft southerners aren’t liked much in these parts so what if I tells the magistrates that you forced me to do things I didn’t want to and that you pushed me over the kitchen table and had your way with me.”
“Are you blackmailing me?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said, “So what do you say.”
“Over the tab,le woman, raise your skirts I shall indeed have my way with you and then kick you all the way down the street back to the station in nought but your hat and stockings.”
“You would not dare, I bet you can’t even get your end up without I gave it a little suck,” she insisted.
“With that we are in accord, your charms are completely wasted on me,” I concurred.
“Drop your breeches I’ll soon have him rearing like a enraged bull,” she replied.
“I have no desire to do any such thing,” I insisted.
“Well I do, I haven’t had in weeks since my former master had to go to a nursing home,” she explained.
“Dear god woman, what kind of strumpet are you?” I demanded.
“One with needs,” she admitted, “So what is it to be?”
I thought a moment “Well to be honest it is quite a while since I enjoyed a gallop, over the table end and bare your rump and I shall cock you to ecstasy.”
“And do I have the job?” she enquired.
“That very much depends on how you perform,” I added, “Shall we?”
Her face turned a ghostly shade of pale as her bravado left her.
“Come come,” I cajoled, “Bend over the table, I shall raise your skirts and you just think of the glory of our English countryside.”
I took her hand and guided her towards the kitchen table, she bent at the waist and I raised her skirts. She had nothing below except the tapes holding her stockings up. She was not comely at all but there was a neat puckered brown hole and a larger pink slot pouting at me.
I dropped my breecches and my member eagerly sprang free, rigid with the purple veins standing prominent and my helmet rampant. The purple head almost found his own way between her moistened pink lips and I easily drove him fully home.
My hands were on her mounds in a moment, sliding under her dress and up her bodice to squeeze her teats, she gasped and gasped again as my member stretched her innards to the utmost.
“Do you like that?” I asked, “Is that what you wanted?”
“Do I have the job?” she asked.
“Make me cum,” I husked, “I want to fill your womb with my seed.”
“No you must withdraw!” she said but already I was pumping my seed deep within her.
“There you’re done,” I chortled, “The job is yours if you wish it.”
“Is that it?” she demanded, “Half a dozen pokes and a dribble of spunk and you’re done?”
“Well what did you expect?” I queried.
“Five minutes at least,” she protested.
“It was just a quickie, I was not attempting to breed an heir,” I replied, “My god why are we even talking about this, it was your idea!”
“I’ll take the job but I’m not wearing your chastity belt.” she informed me.
“Nor shall I wear yours, you shall be my cook, no more, no less, do you understand?” I queried.
“Yes I shall cook for you,” she agreed.
“And lay for me when I have needs?” I clarified.
“If you do mine,” she suggested.
“Good god no, find yourself a rolling pin or a maid with a small fist,” I suggested.
“Does the idea excite you?” she asked.
“To a certain extent,” I agreed as I struggled to refasten my breeches. my member swelling at the idea caused this to be somewhat difficult.
“You can stick it back in me if you want,” she offered.
“That would be most convenient,” I agreed.
“Do you want to kiss me?” she asked.
“Lord no," I replied, “Face away from me if you please I wish to pound your rump anew.”
Once more she gripped the table while I raised her skirt. My member was so stiff I was able to aim him into her without using my hands and then she enveloped me.
It was very pleasant, quite relaxing really, this woman to whom I would not generally give a second look was affording me a very great service.
“This is very pleasant,” I commented, “Now show me how much you like me, I want you to cum for me, make as much noise as you like, no one will hear.”
“Then poke me harder, I can’t hardly feel it in me,” she said, “Put some effort in man for gods sake.”
Riled I thrust with all my might, she erupted with gasps, “Oh me back,” she said “You’re busting me in arrrggghhh,”
Bang bang bang the table crashed against the wall, it started a good yard away but my pounding had slid it across the flagstones, “Oh fuck you to hell , for god’s sake sate me you bastard.” she ordered.
I held off making her suffer but then relented and eased my reserves of seed into her with the delicacy of a bee supping nectar from a Daffodil.
“Oh my lord,” she gasped as I finished.
“|So how was that?” I asked.
“About a four if you ask me,” the char woman replied. I looked round in horror to see the char woman and two maids watching, “We thought as you was killing her.” she explained.
“Do you want to do us now?” a maid asked hopefully.
“No, no be gone and not one word of this do you hear?” I ordered.
It was no use, my reputation was sealed, within the day every woman and maid was fluttering her eyelashes at me, for if I could make a fat cook cry in ecstasy whereto might I make a lithe young maiden? All that is apart from the Vicar’s daughter who treated me with utmost disdain. Oh well. I like a challenge.