A knock on my door and the flawless Bentley's face has appeared. 'I have something to demonstrate,' he said, mysteriously. 'Should it please my lady.'
'Certainly,' said I.
'You see this door, my lady,' said Bentley moving towards a door that was never used over in the corner of the room. I must say, having lived at Heaton a good many decades, it was beyond me to recall as to what the door led to.
'Yes, Bentley,' I replied. 'Wither does it lead?'
'To nowhere, my lady. There is a small room that in past times was used to leave victuals for this room. There is a door leading into it from the passage and then this door leading into my lady's salon.'
'I see,' I said, finger on chin, wondering where this was leading.
'Well, I have taken the liberty of spending some of our budget on transforming this room...' at which he opened the door to reveal a panel of glass that looked as if it had been restored from one of our many glasshouses. Which turned out to be the case. How curious!
'If my lady would care to peer through...' I approached the glass and looking beyond it into the little room, saw a space quite red with mirrors and couches and cushions in what seemed the Eastern style. I looked at Bentley bemused.
'If I may say, my lady, our rule of these young men never expending their seed except at my lady's express order is weighing heavily on them. They are below the age of five and twenty, my lady, and men this age generally...' He hesitated to use the term in the presence of a lady. '...Generally masturbate more than once a day. I agree that keeping their sperm within their bodies is creating a charged atmosphere but I feel it may be unrealistic to expect more than a few days of abstinence. And so I have created a Masturbatorium, for your pleasure.'
'A Masturbatorium? Please explain, Bentley,' I exhorted.
'When the young men feel an extreme need to... despunk themselves, I suggest that they can now come to me and, if they have worked well, and if my lady has no immediate plans for the boy -- these lads can replenish themselves incredibly quickly -- then I would grant them access to the Masturbatorium.'
I put my finger to my lips, thinking. 'And how would this work, exactly?'
'The young man would enter the room, divest himself, put on a blindfold, which will be provided in the room...'
'Go on,' I entreated, become more fascinated by the idea the more I heard.
'The young man would knock three times on the glass to inform my lady that he was there.' He could see I was intrigued and continued. 'The lad in question would then sit and start to pleasure himself on one of the couches provided and all my lady would need to do to enjoy the spectacle would be to open the door and spy on the young man through the glass. He would not know whether he was being espied or no, while the mirrors that I have placed around the room should afford my lady many perspectives on the situation.'
'Ingenious, Bentley. You are really the most excellent imagineer!'
'I am inspired by my lady's tastes,' he replied with a grin that can only be described as saucy. 'But that is not all...'
I raised an eyebrow.
'You may notice, my lady, that here in the glass is a hole that I have lined with velvet...'
I now noticed the hole and, clearly, from my countenance, was bemused by it.
'When the boy knocks three times and my lady opens the door to spy on the boy, if it pleases her to... please the boy, all she has to do is knock three times back and the boy will understand that he is to come to the window -- still blindfolded: there is a narrow cord on the floor that he can follow with his feet to find the direction -- and position his manhood through the hole.' His look by now was mischievous in the extreme. 'Once his manhood is through the hole, my lady will have full access to it with her hand or any other part of her anatomy to do what she will with it. The boy will assume it is my lady but will not know for sure.'
I must say I was delighted by this contraption. Most excellent Bentley! How his imagination works! The idea that, quite undiscovered, I could pleasure myself in this way was quite beyond my comprehension. I felt a flush of pure pleasure come to my cheeks and a smile materialise on my lips.
'Would my lady like me to demonstrate it myself?' he asked with a twinkle.
'I think that would be best,' I said, twinkling back.
Bentley closed the door to the Masturbatorium and the room was back to its respectable self. He then took his leave and left the room as I waited, all expectation, until a couple of moments later, I heard the three knocks. My heart was beating fit to explode as I rose from my chair and approached what had, until moments ago, been an unnoticed door in the corner. With some trepidation and a trembling of my hand, I opened the door.
There, inside the Masturbatorium, was Bentley, entirely naked except for the blindfold and his stockings and shoes -- he had clearly noted my excitement at Daniel in such dress - sprawled on one of the red couches, his erect manhood in his hand. He continued to caress his manhood, reaching down to his testicles, squeezing them, lifting them so I could spy underneath all the way to his furry hole, nipping at his own nipples and generally pleasuring himself... for my pleasure.
The sight was so exciting and, being entirely invisible to all the world myself, I pulled over a stool and, reaching beneath my petticoats, began to rub my moistened finger along the lips of my sex as Bentley had done with his tongue the previous day. To be watching this beautiful man display himself for me without seeing me pleasure myself at the sight was an excitement in itself.
And then I knocked. Three times. At hearing my raps, Bentley immediately got himself to his feet and feeling his way along the floor cord, approached the glass. Holding out his hands he first found the centre then using those hands located the velvet lined hole. My eyes were agog, staring at the hole with such expectation until the head, still covered with a foreskin I had such affection for, emerged through it. I was all excitement, my busy fingers sliding around my quim in juice that, despite my age, seemed free-flowing.
Then came the shaft, the pubic hair, the balls while Bentley's perfect body was pressed against the glass - his nipples, the line of hair to his navel, the muscles, all squashed delectably close but untouchable. The same was not the case for his penis.
From my stool, I approached it. Breathed on it, at which I heard a first moan. Smelled it. How I loved the smell of this man! And took in the beauty of it, a penis like an old friend. I had enjoyed the penises of my young men -- very much enjoyed them -- but this was my clear favourite, perhaps because it was my first.
I reached out my tongue and collected the teardrop of precum that had collected in the little eye of his penis. He moaned, pressing his body closer up against the glass. I grasped the penis around the shaft, it twitched in my hand, rose as if searching for the contact of my lips. I teased him in this way for some moments, allowing him to feel my breath, my tongue, my grasp and then, when I felt he could bear it no longer, I pulled back the skin and enveloped the entire head of his penis in my mouth. Oh, the taste of him!
I looked up to see his palms against the glass, his head thrown back in ecstasy and I probed the eye of his penis with my tongue, weighed his testicles in my hand and thoroughly tasted him.
Bringing my mouth closer to the glass, my head tantalisingly out of reach so he could not grasp it as he had done on the day of our meeting, I took his penis further into my mouth until I felt him draw back and draw forward again, back, forward... my mouth almost on the glass, Bentley was having intercourse with my face and with more and more frenzy. But this time he did not release his sperm immediately but continued stuffing my mouth with his meaty cock.
I needed breath so came away, turned my attention to his balls, which I took into my mouth one at a time, then went back to his penis, which he returned to thrusting in and out of my greedy mouth while my fingers pinched the nib at the top of my gash, which sent shudders of pleasure throughout my whole body. Within moments I heard him gasp, 'My lady... be ready...'
By that he meant that I should withdraw my mouth so that his seed could flow. But I refused. Grasping his shaft so he could not retract it, I kept the head of his penis in my mouth. 'My lady...' he groaned one last time before I felt the rich creamy sperm flow into my mouth, my second such snack this morning, but this was the creamier. I held my head back a little so that I could feel the spurts on the roof of my mouth, taste that thick load on my tongue and feel it creep into to my belly. Oh delicious Bentley!
When the last shudders had left his body, I withdrew my mouth and Bentley withdrew his member from the hole upon which I closed the door on the Masturbatorium. Dabbing my mouth with my handkerchief and then placing said handkerchief beneath my skirts dabbed that place also, I regained my seat by the window and picked up my teacup like the most respectable woman in the whole county.
Within moments, Bentley was at the main door, smiling a smile of real happiness, fully dressed and with no evidence whatsoever of what had that moment passed between us.
'So,' he said proudly, looking me squarely in my face, 'how does my lady like her Masturbatorium?'
'Your lady likes it well,' I said saucily. 'Very well indeed. Now we need to populate it.'
'Certainly,' said I.
'You see this door, my lady,' said Bentley moving towards a door that was never used over in the corner of the room. I must say, having lived at Heaton a good many decades, it was beyond me to recall as to what the door led to.
'Yes, Bentley,' I replied. 'Wither does it lead?'
'To nowhere, my lady. There is a small room that in past times was used to leave victuals for this room. There is a door leading into it from the passage and then this door leading into my lady's salon.'
'I see,' I said, finger on chin, wondering where this was leading.
'Well, I have taken the liberty of spending some of our budget on transforming this room...' at which he opened the door to reveal a panel of glass that looked as if it had been restored from one of our many glasshouses. Which turned out to be the case. How curious!
'If my lady would care to peer through...' I approached the glass and looking beyond it into the little room, saw a space quite red with mirrors and couches and cushions in what seemed the Eastern style. I looked at Bentley bemused.
'If I may say, my lady, our rule of these young men never expending their seed except at my lady's express order is weighing heavily on them. They are below the age of five and twenty, my lady, and men this age generally...' He hesitated to use the term in the presence of a lady. '...Generally masturbate more than once a day. I agree that keeping their sperm within their bodies is creating a charged atmosphere but I feel it may be unrealistic to expect more than a few days of abstinence. And so I have created a Masturbatorium, for your pleasure.'
'A Masturbatorium? Please explain, Bentley,' I exhorted.
'When the young men feel an extreme need to... despunk themselves, I suggest that they can now come to me and, if they have worked well, and if my lady has no immediate plans for the boy -- these lads can replenish themselves incredibly quickly -- then I would grant them access to the Masturbatorium.'
I put my finger to my lips, thinking. 'And how would this work, exactly?'
'The young man would enter the room, divest himself, put on a blindfold, which will be provided in the room...'
'Go on,' I entreated, become more fascinated by the idea the more I heard.
'The young man would knock three times on the glass to inform my lady that he was there.' He could see I was intrigued and continued. 'The lad in question would then sit and start to pleasure himself on one of the couches provided and all my lady would need to do to enjoy the spectacle would be to open the door and spy on the young man through the glass. He would not know whether he was being espied or no, while the mirrors that I have placed around the room should afford my lady many perspectives on the situation.'
'Ingenious, Bentley. You are really the most excellent imagineer!'
'I am inspired by my lady's tastes,' he replied with a grin that can only be described as saucy. 'But that is not all...'
I raised an eyebrow.
'You may notice, my lady, that here in the glass is a hole that I have lined with velvet...'
I now noticed the hole and, clearly, from my countenance, was bemused by it.
'When the boy knocks three times and my lady opens the door to spy on the boy, if it pleases her to... please the boy, all she has to do is knock three times back and the boy will understand that he is to come to the window -- still blindfolded: there is a narrow cord on the floor that he can follow with his feet to find the direction -- and position his manhood through the hole.' His look by now was mischievous in the extreme. 'Once his manhood is through the hole, my lady will have full access to it with her hand or any other part of her anatomy to do what she will with it. The boy will assume it is my lady but will not know for sure.'
I must say I was delighted by this contraption. Most excellent Bentley! How his imagination works! The idea that, quite undiscovered, I could pleasure myself in this way was quite beyond my comprehension. I felt a flush of pure pleasure come to my cheeks and a smile materialise on my lips.
'Would my lady like me to demonstrate it myself?' he asked with a twinkle.
'I think that would be best,' I said, twinkling back.
Bentley closed the door to the Masturbatorium and the room was back to its respectable self. He then took his leave and left the room as I waited, all expectation, until a couple of moments later, I heard the three knocks. My heart was beating fit to explode as I rose from my chair and approached what had, until moments ago, been an unnoticed door in the corner. With some trepidation and a trembling of my hand, I opened the door.
There, inside the Masturbatorium, was Bentley, entirely naked except for the blindfold and his stockings and shoes -- he had clearly noted my excitement at Daniel in such dress - sprawled on one of the red couches, his erect manhood in his hand. He continued to caress his manhood, reaching down to his testicles, squeezing them, lifting them so I could spy underneath all the way to his furry hole, nipping at his own nipples and generally pleasuring himself... for my pleasure.
The sight was so exciting and, being entirely invisible to all the world myself, I pulled over a stool and, reaching beneath my petticoats, began to rub my moistened finger along the lips of my sex as Bentley had done with his tongue the previous day. To be watching this beautiful man display himself for me without seeing me pleasure myself at the sight was an excitement in itself.
And then I knocked. Three times. At hearing my raps, Bentley immediately got himself to his feet and feeling his way along the floor cord, approached the glass. Holding out his hands he first found the centre then using those hands located the velvet lined hole. My eyes were agog, staring at the hole with such expectation until the head, still covered with a foreskin I had such affection for, emerged through it. I was all excitement, my busy fingers sliding around my quim in juice that, despite my age, seemed free-flowing.
Then came the shaft, the pubic hair, the balls while Bentley's perfect body was pressed against the glass - his nipples, the line of hair to his navel, the muscles, all squashed delectably close but untouchable. The same was not the case for his penis.
From my stool, I approached it. Breathed on it, at which I heard a first moan. Smelled it. How I loved the smell of this man! And took in the beauty of it, a penis like an old friend. I had enjoyed the penises of my young men -- very much enjoyed them -- but this was my clear favourite, perhaps because it was my first.
I reached out my tongue and collected the teardrop of precum that had collected in the little eye of his penis. He moaned, pressing his body closer up against the glass. I grasped the penis around the shaft, it twitched in my hand, rose as if searching for the contact of my lips. I teased him in this way for some moments, allowing him to feel my breath, my tongue, my grasp and then, when I felt he could bear it no longer, I pulled back the skin and enveloped the entire head of his penis in my mouth. Oh, the taste of him!
I looked up to see his palms against the glass, his head thrown back in ecstasy and I probed the eye of his penis with my tongue, weighed his testicles in my hand and thoroughly tasted him.
Bringing my mouth closer to the glass, my head tantalisingly out of reach so he could not grasp it as he had done on the day of our meeting, I took his penis further into my mouth until I felt him draw back and draw forward again, back, forward... my mouth almost on the glass, Bentley was having intercourse with my face and with more and more frenzy. But this time he did not release his sperm immediately but continued stuffing my mouth with his meaty cock.
I needed breath so came away, turned my attention to his balls, which I took into my mouth one at a time, then went back to his penis, which he returned to thrusting in and out of my greedy mouth while my fingers pinched the nib at the top of my gash, which sent shudders of pleasure throughout my whole body. Within moments I heard him gasp, 'My lady... be ready...'
By that he meant that I should withdraw my mouth so that his seed could flow. But I refused. Grasping his shaft so he could not retract it, I kept the head of his penis in my mouth. 'My lady...' he groaned one last time before I felt the rich creamy sperm flow into my mouth, my second such snack this morning, but this was the creamier. I held my head back a little so that I could feel the spurts on the roof of my mouth, taste that thick load on my tongue and feel it creep into to my belly. Oh delicious Bentley!
When the last shudders had left his body, I withdrew my mouth and Bentley withdrew his member from the hole upon which I closed the door on the Masturbatorium. Dabbing my mouth with my handkerchief and then placing said handkerchief beneath my skirts dabbed that place also, I regained my seat by the window and picked up my teacup like the most respectable woman in the whole county.
Within moments, Bentley was at the main door, smiling a smile of real happiness, fully dressed and with no evidence whatsoever of what had that moment passed between us.
'So,' he said proudly, looking me squarely in my face, 'how does my lady like her Masturbatorium?'
'Your lady likes it well,' I said saucily. 'Very well indeed. Now we need to populate it.'
