Getting to know the staff

Despite the distance which rank and privilege afford the upper classes, you think a good lady should become acquainted with her servants in order to be a good employer. After all their servants are not nameless nobodies slaving away out of sight, they are people! And what better way to become cognizant of that fact than with some skin-on-skin contact?

You strip Evellyn of her shirt, and then get to work disrobing the maid, unlacing her bodice with energetic fervour: There’s just something so pleasing about the process, as the laces slip loose through the loops, one after the other. You take your sweet time relieving the maid of her bodice, before quickly doing away with her gown and underwear, though you let her keep her long white stockings.

Next in your grand design you go out to procure some ropes, and on your way back you stumble across a feisty-looking female mercenary in light armour, several swords in sheaths across her back. Deeming it useful to your purposes you unburden her of her belt, which keeps her baggy trousers in place; just in case gravity doesn’t do the trick on its own you also cut a huge slit down from the waistline into the side, to ensure the pants plummets to the floor the moment time resumes.

With that little secondary pleasure out of the way you return to the mansion’s yard, where you left the stark-naked Evellyn and Polly. Upon passing through the gate you’re struck by the quartet of tits gazing back at you: Evellyn’s are firm, pristine, and well-proportioned, while Polly’s are darktipped honkadonking mellons, and size does matter a little. Regardless, you position the two women opposite one another, still wearing their frozen expression, and then smush them up against each other. Evellyn is a fair bit taller than the maid, so Polly ends up with the lady’s boobs shoved in her face. In order to ensure a long embrace you wrap their arms around one another’s torso and tie their wrists together behind the other’s back, and wrap the belt around their joined torsos at stomach-height, securing them tightly. In addition you tie some rope around their ankles and knees to restrict mobility, and as a piece de resistance you run a section of rope from Evellyn’s wrists down in between Polly’s ass cheeks, in between through her legs and underneath Evellyn’s crotch, and then back up in between the ass crack to Polly’s wrists behind Evellyn’s back. Any struggling on either one’s part will cause the rope to slide around between their legs with unintended stimulating consequences.

You depart from sight and permit time to resume so you can watch the women struggle with their new predicament. Evellyn first screams, then roars with anger, hurling insults in your general direction, while Polly doesn’t do much of anything other than steam and redden, her voice muffled between Evellyn’s boobs.

“Argh, damnit Polly,” Evellyn howls, tugging at the ropes binding her wrists, “we’ve got to loosen these restraAAaihhnts…” Ah, by the sounds of it Evellyn has discovered your trap. In response Polly begins struggling as well, and soon enough there follows a seesaw of alternating suppressed moans, as a tug from either woman runs the ridges of the rope directly past their most sensitive areas. “We’ve… hnng.. got to get … uaaahh… these, ahh, ropes untieEEed… P-Polly…” Evellyn’s voice trails with every pull and tug, feeling almost more lost in the unintended sensuality of their struggle than having a realistic chance of loosening the ropes this way. In quick succession the pair becomes lost in the rhythm of tugging at the rope, no longer thinking of freedom rather than the quickening pulse of sweet release. Finally their ecstasy mingles in a combined moaning shudder; Polly’s head rolls back, her blazing, sweating face free from Evellyn’s cleavage, but quickly the moment of pleasure is replaced with embarrassment as the two lock eyes, and then quickly avert them again, and the struggle with their bondage begins anew.