Back to the room

Underclothes, shirt, trousers, sandals. The routine of dressing helped Lady Hawthorne mostly avoid the distraction of the weighty plug in her bottom and the heat radiating from her groin. One step at a time Liz. You've been horny before, nothing new.

"Enjoy your bath, Miss?", the attendant smiled as she exited the little room. What? Does he know?

"... uhh, yes, thank you. Just what I needed from a day about. Can you take care of these for me?", she handed over the soiled clothing along with a decent tip. Money always discouraged the worst of rumors if he did hear anything.

"Certainly Miss." The smile didn't waver as he took the things off down the hall. Elizabeth watched him go, eyes falling to the attendant's ass. She gave the plug a little squeeze with her own ass, a tiny thrill from the secret beyond the constant physical stimulation. A series of images came to mind unbidden of the man naked, servicing her. She closed her eyes and started down the hall in the opposite direction.

It's fine, you'll be fine. Each step it jostled, like a man shifting his position. I'll just get back to the room. I can sleep or Winston can help. An image of Winston standing before her came to mind, she looked up at him while drawing his pants slowly down. Yes, just a little further to get at... Ngggh fuck me, not that help! Elizabeth stopped in the hallway bent slightly breathing heavily.

She had thought of it before. The convenience of it. He wasn't that much older really. But he had always maintained all propriety, and sleeping with the help was always... messy. Did he even like women? Always so stoic and proper. No. Sleep is what she needed.