**"Advanced Etiquette Lessons"**

The room was hot, stifling with the smell of sweat, body oil, and something more *organic*—a dense aroma that clung to the throat. Elena lay face down on the bed, her wrists now bound with strands of pearls (another "gift" Kris had convinced her to buy), her buttocks red from the spanking Marta had given her minutes before.

"You learn fast," Kris murmured, running his fingers over the teeth marks the housekeeper had left on her shoulder.

Elena groaned in response, rubbing her thighs together.

Marta, standing beside the bed with a thin leather whip in her hand, looked at Kris.

"Want to test her progress?"

He smiled, pulling Elena by the hair until she arched her back, her breasts swaying heavily.

"Show her, Marta."

The housekeeper didn't hesitate. With a fluid motion, she slid the whip between Elena's legs, rubbing the leather tip against her already swollen clitoris.

"First rule of advanced etiquette," Marta whispered, as Elena writhed. "A guest *never* arrives dry."

She pulled the whip back and delivered a swift blow—not to Elena's back, but directly to her sex, with enough **** to make the heiress scream.

Kris grabbed Elena by the waist, turning her to face Marta.

"Second rule," he ordered, stuffing two fingers into her mouth before sliding them down her throat. "Swallowing is mandatory."

Elena gagged, but didn't resist—her lips closed around Kris's fingers, licking them like a hungry cat.

Marta seized the moment to thrust the whip's handle inside her, swirling the leather in slow circles as Elena writhed.

“Third rule,” growled the housekeeper, increasing the pressure. “A polite guest *thanks* before enjoying themselves.”

Elena mumbled something between Kris’s fingers—a sound that could have been a “thank you” or a **** moan.

It didn’t matter.

Kris pulled his fingers from her mouth and brought them to Marta’s lips.

“She’s ready.”

The housekeeper licked his fingers devoutly before kneeling between Elena’s legs.

“Last lesson for today,” he announced, before burying his face in the heiress’s sex, licking her with the same precision with which he polished silver cutlery.

Elena arched her back, screaming as the orgasm hit her—but Kris covered her mouth with his palm, muffling the sound.

“Quiet,” he ordered, while Marta continued to devour her. “Nobility doesn’t scream.”

Elena swallowed a groan, her eyes rolling back as she trembled.

At the door, Clara and Mery watched, masturbating each other in synchronized movements.

"Next class," Kris whispered in Elena's ear, as Marta finally stood up, her chin glistening. "How to host *more than one* guest at the same time."

It was just another afternoon of studying.