Date: Wed, 28 Apr 2010 08:47:42 -0700
From: Jay roberts <diplomat1501@msn.com>
Subject: "Two Grooms and a Young Lord, Part Two" by Jay Roberts    Gay Historical

The next day, very early, before we would ever rise to start our work, a
smart pounding began on the stout ladder that led to our next in the hay
loft.  Blake called out, "I'm coming sir."  He kicked me away as he went to
the edge of the flooring.  "Oh, it's you Toby."

As I gradually woke up and scrambled out of my bed roll and stuck my head
next to Blake"s, I heard the testy Mr. Ward, snarl, "No more "Tobys" young
scamp.  That's for special times.  It's Mr. Ward to you and with great
respect as well."

"Yes great sir, I shall remember."

Ward looked up and caught sight of my sleepy face there.  "And who do we
have here.  Is it an angel looking down on me.  It's you young hero that
Lord James has designated to work this morning in the house.  Blake you
must stay and do your groom work.  Also mind you, the Duke wants his
carriage in two hours with the horses well groomed.  Get to it!"

My heart was split in two.  I regretted that my dear friend's invitation
was revoked, but I was also thrilled to finally see the house, and perhaps
catch a glimpse of the fine looking young lord again.

"Wash up and meet me at the kitchen entrance.  I'll get cook to give you
some leavings from breakfast."

I watched him leave.  Blake behaved as if it was I who kept him from the
planned events this day.  His face was angry and his voice stilled toward
me.  I busied myself in washing.  I used the soap we kept to wash my hands
and also my face.  If I had time, I might have bushed my hair.  I hurried
across the courtyard to the servant's kitchen entrance.  Cook greeted me
disdainfully.  "You have a smell of the beasts on you.  Put a paper on the
chair before you sit your rump on it."

I obeyed feeling somewhat unwelcome.  She poured a steaming bowl of oatmeal
and poured some honey in it for sweetening.  I had never had that afore.
Then you put a plate with scrambled up eggs and two strips of beacon next
to the oatmeal.  A large glass of apply cider also was placed on the table.
The oatmeal was so good, unlike our dried stuff.  I gobbled the eggs and
bacon.  I hadn't had eggs at all this year, but best of all was the cider.
It was hard cider and I felt light headed and happy when I finished it.  I
held my glass for a refill but the fat sturdy cook wacked my head.  "You
don't want to be staggering about when you see the young nobleman."

Then I was, truly to see him.  I asked for the way to his quarters, where I
learned I was to toil in moving books.  She put her hands on her hips,
"What's your name young scamp.  You're a pretty one but too dirty to be
presented to his lordship."  She called loudly and a servant, one I had
seen driving the coach came from his drowsing in the corner of the kitchen.
"Take this stray into the washing room and see that he gets clean.  Burn
his clothes and obtain replacements from those castoffs awaiting gifts for
the poor, they are clean and were once the young lord's."

This rough fellow grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and propelled me to a
small room containing a tube and toilet.  In the main house, Blake told me,
this have these toilets on which they have a handle.  When you press the
handle all your shit disappears down pipes and somewhere far away.  What a
marvel!

Chris, the driver, a muscular fellow of dim intelligence ordered me to
undress.  I am not shy.  I quickly pulled off all my clothes and stood
there.  He whistled at the sight of me.  "You are dirty all over and you
stink, but under all that I see a good looking boy.  The tub is full, get
in."

I soaped myself with the fine soap I found there and did my hair as well.
I stood up to reach for a towel.  "No boy, the water is the color of ink.
You must soap and wash again.  Let me drain the water and refill."

This time the water ran clear and he allowed me to dry myself.  This was
new for me to have a clean towel and a large one at that.  He handed me a
comb to arrange my hair and I stepped out of the tube.  He handed me
clothes.  I laughed with pleasure, they were so fine.  There was a pair of
tan trousers of fine material in excellent condition.  I wondered why Lord
James had discarded them, perhaps they were out of fashion.  Then I donned
a blue tunic.  I regarded myself in the large mirror.  Without vanity, I
had to say that I looked quite fetching.  My blue eyes had become bluer
from the blue tunic.  But I had little time for more looking at my neck was
again grabbed.  This seemed to be the method of directing me about the
house.

We climbed a long flight of stairs.  On the wall side were large paintings
of the Westermere family.  At the top of the stairs was a recently hung
painting.  I could tell because it still smelled of turpentine.  I
recognized it as the young master.  In the style of some painters, he had
posed the boy as the boy in the famous Blue Boy painting.  James was in
blue silk.  As the fine material appeared to be pulled up into James's
crotch, his prick appeared by prominent.  His face was very fine, good
features, pale complection and arched eyebrows but his wore a disdainful
expression as though he looked down at the world..  His body was not that
of a working person.  It appeared soft and his shoulders were a bit narrow
and his hips broad, but the effect was elegant.

"He looks not unlike you George.  True?"

We had stopped before the portrait.  "What you say is so.  We might be
brothers."

"It's not impossible.  The duke often had his way with servant girls.  You
might have the same father, but be cautioned, never mention this to the
Lord James at risk of your life."

He stopped in front of a heavy door with a brass crest on it.  He used the
knocker and then hastily withdrew, leaving me nervously standing, awaiting
the opening of the door.

I heard a voice from within, speaking with heavy ennui, "Come in."

The door creaked mightily as I pushed it open, almost as if I stepped on a
cat.  I entered.  There half lying on a mauve silk lounge was Lord James.
He failed to look at me as he helped himself to a bon bon from the red silk
covered box beside him.  He looked exactly as the portrait in the hall
portrayed him, perhaps even more handsome.  His blond curls were arranged
in Greek statue style and his lithe boy had the same dimensions as the Blue
Boy, narrow of shoulder and tiny of waist but swelling out in broader hips.
The effect was elegant and aristocratic.

Still not looking at me, he asked, "Your name?"

"George, sir."

On hearing my shaky voice, he regarded me for the first time.  "You are a
comely lad."  Then he seemed startled. " Quick, join me in front of the
large mirror."

We stood together.  Our height was identical and our faces alike as twins.

He signed, "I'm not surprised.  We are brothers, or at least half brothers.
My father's prick was a busy one."

He held out one slim, white, delicate hand.  "Take my hand brother.  We
shall never speak of this again.  But first, a brotherly kiss.

He pressed his full lips against mine. I smelled his lemon and violet
cologne and felt his small tongue tasting me. After a long while, we
separated.  We were both breathing heavily.  Finally he retained his
composure.  "George, Mr. Ward usually attends to me when I become sexual
stimulated.  He is occupied with the Duke.  You must fill his office and I
dare say that I find it a happier outcome to have so handsome a boy
suckling on my member.

I hadn't in all the world expected to be placed in the position of an agent
for his pleasure, yet I remember that when Blake asked, I complied.  But
was this different?  Perhaps.  I loved Blake.  Sir James might yet reach
that pinnacle in me.  But I had no further time to deliberate.  A strong
hand was pressing on my shoulder and I yielded and slowly sunk to my knees
on the lush carpet.

"Open the front of my trousers," he ordered in a new voice.  A voice that a
noble personage uses with an inferior.  I opened the tiny pearl buttons and
reached in.  I extracted a perfect male organ.  It was smooth and pale and
about the same size as mine.  It was different.  It had no cover like mine
and Blake's.  Later I found out that he had been what is called
circumcised. "My father followed the royal families custom.  It's pomp and
circumcision."

I was an experienced suckler and I brought that expertise to the task at
hand.  In a moment of wet stimulation, Sir James was reduced to a simpering
boy, all his faculties concentrated on his prick.  I looked up once, his
beautiful eyes were half closed, the brilliant blue glinting through his
heavy eyelashes.  I felt his soft hand caressing my ears rubbing my check
in his passion.  Blake had never acted so wanton during a suck session, I
decided that this sensitive boy could experience greater thrills than
Blake.  I tried different techniques.  I rubbed the shaft and sucked at the
same time.  This brought louder sighs.  I held his prick in my mouth whilst
licking the head rapidly.  Soon all this was bring Sir James quickly to his
peak.  He stiffened and his legs extended and his middle section began a
lifting and lowering.  He seemed to be overcome by his impending orgasm,
even fearful, I thought, but then he struck him like a bolt of lightning.
He almost screamed in his announcement of "Oh you blackguard, it's upon
me."

He began pulsing streams of sweet milk into my sucking and swallowing mouth
until it was done.  He lay in a stupor for awhile, sweat upon his brow.
Finally his eyes opened.  "That was well done.  No more will I avail myself
of old Ward.  Your young, sweet lips and energy is sublime.  Now dear boy,
if you wish, you may relieve yourself out of my sight."

I blushed hotly.  "It's too late sir, my thrill at relieving you went
straight to my own member and..."  I pointed to the floor where there lay a
puddle of my own essence.

"Bravo lad.  We have many good times ahead.  Now whilst I was half
unconscious, my mind still worked and I decided to name you my valet.  I am
older enough to need one.  My father has his own Newcomb, and Ward is busy
running the estate and planning events.  The other two men, Chris has his
duties as well as your fellow groom, Blake, who is attractive, but too
rough for my taste.  No it's you and only you I name."

I bowed as low as I could and thanked the handsome noble.  For my first
task, I rebuttoned his fly, noting that his prick was beginning to rise in
interest.  He hastily covered it with his hand and announced.  "You must
take a trip with Ward to Selfridges Store.  They have an excellent
department for servant's clothing.  Ward will know what to buy.  Tomorrow
then."

I did not relish being in a closed carriage with the aggressive Mr. Ward,
but I clapped my hands in pleasure and we both laughed and danced ab out
like the children we still were.

End Part Two