So you gesture for her to speak

"Your name has been a regular topic at this very table. And the Mistress and Master both have strong opinions," she says but stops. Her cheeks burn red and she shields her loins with the empty tray. "They do, but – but forgive me, Sir, it is not easy to speak on this with a man or a stranger."

Your mouth is full with delicious food but you manage some reassuring sounds.

"You are too kind. And how rude of me to call you a stranger. This is why I should serve not talk. The Mistress is so wise and I am a stupid creature lacking in all common sense." She falls silent for a while, content to watch you chew. "I have a crush!" The words tumble from her quivering lips, a bark that signals an end to all her hesitation. "A most shameful crush. I know the terms of my employment are unusual enough, but to lust after the Master of the house makes me feel like a harlot. But I can’t stop. The Mistress knows, I am sure, and I fear he only toys with me. But I still want to fall asleep in his arms, taken in their marriage bed and with his cum flowing from my unworthy cunt."

She clears her throat. "I think the Mistress wanted you to meet him. To meet him and stay. But I am now begging you to go. I’ll be grateful. And I’ll make it worth your while."

You wash down your feelings with another sip of flower wine and nod. Meeting the other man in your {if Connected: The Dean’s Daughter = 8} lover’s {else} former lover’s {endif} life can wait and you are curious what her gratitude entails.

"Thank you." She bows her head. "I’ll let you eat." She does, leaving for a while and handing you a small, leather-bound book on her return. "The Mistress’ writings. The ones that are not meant for wider publication. You should take the time to browse at least. I will go and fix you a drink."

She is away before you can protest, her tray laden with the dirty dishes.

You are alone with tea and wine and left with the book with gold lettering on the cover. The Dean’s Daughter is a good writer, that much you knew, but you did not expect fiction – especially not coloured by autobiography. You browse, the dregs of drink warming your tongue. And reading yields surprising flattery and scraps of unsurprising insight.

You have gained a Wise Word

"She planned for you to read them. It was important to her that you get an impression at least." The Devoted Domestic startles you with her quiet approach, carrying two glasses on her tray. "And I apologise for intruding on your time with her most intimate thoughts. But I hope this makes up for it." Ice cubes clink against chilled rims as she curtsies. "Might you move your chair for me? Like so..."

She points and you follow, putting the table to your right and you to facing her. "Try this one first."

Her offering is no surprise, but you did not expect her to do so by falling to her knees in front of you. And the elegance of her movements, lowering herself without wasting a drop, does delight. You take the cold glass, marvelling at another luxury.

Barenhaven’s constant rain freezes rarely, and only in deepest winter. To see ice in early fall is a minor marvel of logistics, storage or technology.

Yet the taste is utterly unworthy of the effort involved. You grimace and she laughs.

"Please forgive me, I could not resist. That one is for me, but the reactions never fail to amuse. Try the other. Good. And now let me taste."

You do not understand immediately, but you do swap the drinks and take a sip. It is sweeter than you expected, an unfamiliar tonicum that mixes with the Workermash Rum to create an impression of honey and gentle spice.

"Let me taste!"

You attempt to nurse her but she stops you before your hand can reach the glass. She shakes her head, eyes your crotch and opens her mouth. A **** hand to your cock causes her to nod enthusiastically, but you have to ask.

"I want to suck it from your tip. Steep your cock in bitter drink, if you’d be so kind, but use my mouth to rinse it clean."

You conquer your **** and obey. The cold constricts your veins to abrupt arousal and a tight tingle twitches along your spine. She smacks her lips at the sight of it dripping from your hardness and then swirls her tongue along the shaft, cleaning you from crown to base.

It takes some doing to soak your length again, but she aids you well. You reach the bottom of the glass and deep into her throat, making her gargle up darkened spit. And another immersion only makes you harder. You make her slurp then gag and fuck her face. She lets you use her until you tire, slapping your balls against her chin until your muscles burn.

Slaver still connects her mouth, dark from smeared lipstick, to your bulging cock.

"Gimme another!"

You do, again straining to fit into the glass. A floe of ice, crushed and melting, touches your dick and leaves you rock-hard but close to bursting. She, smirking, kisses the head and slurps her drink.

"Lemme show you something..." she says and swallows you again.

The tip of her tongue teases under the tip and you unload. Your member only grows harder as your flood her mouth with your cum. She does not swallow but, jerking the shaft, places you outside to fill her with more. And you do, your balls churning out a sheer unending stream of milk.

"Wash," she slurs and spits it all into the glass. Thick clouds fog inside the dark liquid, your cum a billowy and buttery yellow. "Watch!" She sets the tray aside and drinks. It moves down her throat with a dirty glug-glug sound, leaving her sticky until she burps and licks herself clean. "And we're not done yet."

You are extremely, painfully not done yet. Your dick aches harder than ever before, disgorging another syrupy load as soon as she touches it back against her lips. She swallows it all and then takes you in for another face fucking.

The next fat load takes more effort, long enough for her to pace herself down to a limber handjob while she gasps for air. You drench her outfit with the sudden eruption and black out while she sucks you up the rest.

"Relax. Enjoy your drink and relax."

You do, switching from relaxed reading to using her throat until your glass is empty.

You have gained a Wise Word

You now have [{@2 Wise Words}] Wise Words

By the time you are done, she is a mess. Your cum covers her face and stains her dress down to the skirt, clings to her hair and pools from her chin. She smirks and readies herself for the final load, you standing up to drizzle clean fluid over her kneeling form. Your cock softens after and she for the last time cleans it with her mouth.

"I should get ready." She smiles. "But I hope the experience did not disappoint. And I look forward to hosting you again." She watches you as you dress. "I sometimes climax from the smell alone – especially if we accommodate a variety of gentlemen.

Night has fallen behind the heavy curtains. It is late and quite some time has passed.

{if The Passage of Time > 95} Your Time in Barenhaven is running out {elseif The Passage of Time > 80} Your Time in Barenhaven is coming to a close {elseif The Passage of Time > 60} You have some Time left in Barenhaven {elseif The Passage of Time > 50} Your Time in Barenhaven is half-way over {elseif The Passage of Time > 30} You have quite some Time left to spend in Barenhaven {elseif The Passage of Time > 15} You have a lot of Time left to spend in Barenhaven {elseif The Passage of Time > 5} Your Time in Barehaven has just begun {else} You are now spending Time in Barenhaven {endif}

Let me show you the door."