Bethany: Servant Girl

When you return to your bed chambers after the words exchanged with your parents, you find Bethany, a red-haired servant girl, scrubbing the floors.

She is a scullery maid - young, lowborn, and utterly beneath your station. She has no title, no lands, no education. Like the other scullery maids, her duties include washing dishes, scrubbing floors, and peeling vegetables.

‘Milord,’ she says, glancing up from her work with a flirtatious smile. ‘The floor’s clean. Is there anything else I might do for you?’

You’ve heard the stories. Everyone has. Bethany, a beautiful girl with fiery hair and generous breasts and hips, is very popular among the men of Redstone Keep.

They say she’s slept with half the castle. Stable boys, guards, minstrels, merchants, even a visiting knight once, if the rumors are to be believed. A few months ago, she was caught fucking three stable boys at the same time in the chapel itself, no less.

The chaplain, Friar Archibald, had thundered against the sin, calling for repentance and punishment.

The stable boys had their bottoms switched, but Bethany escaped with only a warning - after, of course, she ‘privately’ begged your father for forgiveness. Everyone knows what that likely entailed, considering your father's indulgence in sins of the flesh is hardly a secret.

But at the end of the day, you are also flesh and blood like him.

‘Anything?’ you repeat, letting the word hang in the air as you step closer. Her smile widens, and she tilts her head up to meet your gaze. Bethany isn't a shy virgin or the **** highborn lady on her wedding night. She is as perverted and lustful as they come.

‘Anything,’ she echoes, her voice low, rich with suggestion.

You reach out, your fingers brushing against her cheek tracing the delicate curve of her jawline. Bethany giggles, pleased at being caressed. When she rises to her feet and begins to undress, there’s no hesitation. She is as unashamed in her nakedness as she is in her flirtations.

For the first time in many years, the crushing expectations of your title, your duty, and your legacy fade into the background. You are no longer the heir to House Bloodstrong. You are simply a man. And she, a woman. Flesh and blood, desire and heat.

You fondle her breasts, massaging them to your heart's content, while she moans and giggles. Her cunt feels wet and inviting, when you enter her and begin thrusting. 'Fuck me harder, milord!' she begs, and you're happy to give her what she wants.

When the morning light filters through the narrow window, you are no longer a virgin. You are a man in the arms of a scullery maid.

It's not uncommon for noblemen to sleep with servant girls and father bastards. But you shock everyone by your declaration of intent to marry her. It’s a choice that sets the castle ablaze with gossip - from the servants’ quarters to the great hall. A lord's heir marrying a scullery maid? It is unthinkable.

Your mother’s fury is unmatched. ‘You will ruin this house,’ she hisses, her composure slipping for the first time in years. ‘A lowborn harlot as Lady Bloodstrong? The mother of your heir? Have you lost your mind?’

But you stand firm. You’ve made your choice, and you will not be swayed. Bethany becomes your wife, her place at your side sealed with vows spoken before the gods and the court, and the disapproving glare of Friar Archibald.

Ten months after the wedding, she gives you a son. Rory. A healthy, squalling babe with her fiery hair and your eyes. He is the future of House Bloodstrong, a union of nobility and lowborn stock.

Bethany, however, struggles with her new role. She is uneducated, totally uninterested in the duties of a noblewoman, and the whispers of her scandalous past follow her. The guards, the servants, even visiting merchants remember her as the promiscuous scullery maid she once was.

But she proves to be a lusty lover. Submissive, eager to please, and ever-conscious of the precariousness of her new station. Nights with her are filled with passion, her gratitude to you for her elevation making her even more eager to sexually satisfy you.

Would your nights be so pleasurable and satisfying if you had married a virgin maiden or a noblewoman instead? Probably not. Even as your wife, Bethany kneels before you at night, as lustful and shameless as ever, using her mouth and tongue to dutifully suck your cock. Her skill and enthusiasm in such lewd acts surpass anything you could have expected from a noblewoman or a blushing virgin bride.

From a personal pleasure standpoint, you've easily made the best choice.

And yet, as you watch little Rory toddle through the halls, his laughter echoing off the ancient stone walls, a shadow of doubt lingers. Have you safeguarded the future of House Bloodstrong, or have you placed an unbearable weight on your son’s young shoulders?

The answer remains just out of reach, a question only the years ahead can resolve.