David Shaw, Victorian Messenger Ch. 08

Aralık 30, 2020 0 Yazar: admin

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(It was 1892 and I, David Shaw, then aged 19 joined ‘Maynard and Son, Purveyors to Gentlewomen and the Aristocracy’ on Upper Richmond Road, Putney. The job involved providing ‘underskirt services’ to single women. This was my fifth day with the firm.)


The next morning, my fifth day with Maynard’s, I turned up at the office at 8 o’clock on the dot. One or two of the other ‘underskirt boys’ were waiting for Lorna to dish out the addresses. I was given an address on the Bayswater Road, overlooking Hyde Park. I was off on my bicycle at once and in no time at all I was cycling north over Putney Bridge then along the Fulham Road and eventually across Hyde Park and reached my destination at about half past nine.

The house was very imposing with classical features and a white painted stucco facade. I imagined someone very rich living there with estates both in the country and in the colonies. I had learnt to take all of this in my stride and not be put off by either wealth or position. I parked my bicycle around the back of the house and rang the servants’ bell.

A young housemaid answered the door and took my card. “I shall get Mrs. Pugh, the housekeeper,” she said and left me standing in a small vestibule.

A framed foxhunting print seemed to fill one wall and I noted that the artist was Alfred de Dreux. It was of the Belvoir hunt in Leicestershire and a portrayal of Belvoir Castle occupied the middle distance.


The Withdrawing Room.


“Mr. Shaw, the sisters Hetheringham will see you now,” Mrs. Pugh told me escorting me into the main hall and up a large flight of stone stairs. She was a tall thin woman wearing a black dress with a white collar. I watched her hips sway from side to side as I followed her up the stairs.

The house must have been the largest I had ever set foot in and marveled that it all belonged to one family. A long case clock tick-tocked majestically in an alcove near the drawing room door next to a marble bust of Julius Caesar.

I was led into the tall ceilinged drawing room and there, in the corner nearest the window, were four middle aged women, all sitting in a small circle on capacious low upholstered chairs.

I noticed that two of the women were sewing, one was knitting and the fourth was reading a ladies’ journal. The room was quiet except for the street noise outside and some muffled conversation from the ladies themselves. The room smelled of fresh flowers and exotic scent.

I stood rather nervously at the door while Miss Pugh introduced me. I held onto my cap like grim death and once again felt totally out of my depth in such genteel company and surroundings.

“So you are an ‘underskirt boy’ are you? Let me see your tongue,” said one of the ‘knitters’ staring at me over her spectacles. I stuck out my tongue and noticed four pairs of eyes turn to see it.

“Can you touch your nose with it?” asked the ‘reader’. I demonstrated that I could almost manage to touch it and there were nods of approval as the ladies continued with their manual and literary occupations.

“Much better than that last boy we had,” said Elizabeth Hetheringham to her sisters,”I could hardly feel the little blighter inside me,” she concluded, and the ladies laughed.

“Come now Lizzie, he wasn’t that bad; he did try after all,” said Miss Emily Hetheringham putting down her knitting and getting up to stretch her legs. She shook me by the hand and told me to undress behind a screen which had been placed at the opposite end of the room.

“That will be all Mrs. Pugh. We’ll ring for you when we have finished”, said one of the sisters.

I was shaking like a leaf behind the screen. I had never been asked to pleasure four women at once, particularly women who appeared to be so high ranking as these. As far as I knew they could all be duchesses with long titles. I wondered whether I would be able to remain calm enough to fulfill my duties. I also wondered whether my tongue was of sufficient length to satisfy them. My heart was beating at double speed as I stepped out from behind the screen.

“No need to conceal your manhood Mr. Shaw; my sisters and I have seen many similar examples before, is that not correct Annie?”

Annie nodded and told me not to be bashful.

I walked across the wide room with my hands hiding my privates. I felt unbelievably embarrassed and wished that I was in the relatively safe bedroom of Miss Sumpter, the school teacher.

I looked at the sisters and noticed that they must have all been at least twenty years my senior. They could have been in their mid forties or early fifties.

They had ‘worn’ lined faces as if they had spent time abroad in some hot clime. I would wager that India may have been their home in the past. They all appeared taller than I, by a good many inches, and once again I felt very small and thin in comparison standing near them. They were all quite slim and their hair was well coiffured, in the latest style I might add.

I stared at bahis firmaları their voluminous skirts which were clearly brimming over with underskirts.

They all wore dark grey silk skirts, some with floral patterns in blue or brown, which filled their chairs and spilled out down to the floor on all three sides. They all wore white silk blouses with high collars and cameo brooches

Emily Hetheringham arose and walked towards me and I heard the seductive slow frou-frou sounds of her silk-taffeta petticoats rustling beneath her wide skirt.

My penis suddenly grew out of control beneath my fingers and I had to spread my hands to conceal it. I felt panic strike me and stared wide eyed round the room.

“Come now Mr. Shaw, remove your hands please. My sisters and I can surely not relax until we see what magnificent appendage you honour us with this morning.” She said and giggled in a silly girlish way.

I removed my hands and my erection sprang upwards pointing toward the corner of the ceiling above the sisters’ heads.

“Upon my soul that is a fine example,” said Miss Emily and clapped her hands with glee. I must admit I was quite proud of its size and angle.

This gave me more confidence and I felt it stiffen even further.

“Come here and let us all touch,” said Elizabeth Hetheringham placing her journal on the floor to one side of her chair.

I must also admit that I felt more relaxed in front of them now that I had become used to standing naked sporting my somewhat massive erection. I often thought that it looked larger than it actually was because I was such a skinny, puny fellow in contrast. Perhaps that’s why my tongue appeared longer too.

I stood in the centre of the four women and allowed each one to fondle me in turn. I just hoped that no one from the street could see me standing naked having my balls massaged or my penis stroked. They all seemed very complimentary and I grinned back at them like some sort of demented chimpanzee.

I felt that I was some sort of ‘a prize specimen’ being examined by four female zoologists and wondered how I was supposed to pleasure them and in which position, and when?

One of them rang a bell and a young housemaid appeared. She had dark brown hair with freckles and looked as if she was a country girl, new to the city.

“We shall take tea now please Davies,” said Sophia Hetheringham watching the eighteen year old curtsy and leave the room.

The maid showed no interest in me, or the sisters, and I could only assume that she was used to seeing the sisters’ ‘underskirt indulgences’, or had been trained not to show surprise or any other emotion. I surmised that it was probably both.

Ten minutes later she returned with the tea. I noticed that there were only four cups so clearly I was not ‘part’ of the company, merely a plaything, a diversion or amusement, as it were.

“On the floor, in the middle with you,” said Miss Elizabeth Hetheringham who clearly appeared to be the dominant one of the four.

I sat in the middle with my knees drawn up to my chest. The maid handed them their tea and they all sat around me staring at my heavy hairy testicles which dangled rudely from between my legs.

“On your back boy,” said Miss Elizabeth, or Lizzie, as she was known, and I lay on my back in the little central square of carpet between them.

There was only enough room to allow me enough space to lie with my legs and arms apart. This I did and spread myself equidistant between the four low chairs.

“That’s it boy; lie with your head next to Miss Sophia’s chair,” said Miss Lizzie.

I now lay spread-eagled on the thick Persian carpet with Miss Annie on my right hand side and Miss Emily on my left, Miss Lizzie at my feet and my head resting in the space between Miss Sophia’s shoes. I stared up at the ceiling trying not to make eye contact with any of the sisters. I felt their eyes, however, staring at my erection.

“That will do nicely boy,” said Miss Lizzie.

Suddenly to be called ‘boy’ made me feel nervous but for some reason I was not frightened of these women but I was puzzled to know what would happen next, and in which position I was about to pleasure them.

Naked on my back I watched the sisters sit, looking down at me as they slowly drank their tea. One by one they eased off their black kitten heeled house-shoes to reveal their feet clad in very fine black silk stockings.

Lizzie Hetheringham who sat nearest my feet placed her feet on my shins and massaged me with them.

Staring down my body I noticed the lacy hem of her outer petticoat come into view and It was of white fine silk Alencon lace of the most elaborate and complex design. It lay across her ankles and tickled the tender skin of my hairless calves.

My penis twitched noticeably as I became transfixed by the sight of her elaborately decorated undergarment. Miss Hetheringham noticed my predicament and continued massaging my shins and ankles further. I saw her eyes twinkle behind kaçak iddaa her teacup and watched her feet running along the inside of my thighs. She handed her cup to Davies who poured her another one and, in the meantime, she pulled her chair closer to me so that it was almost touching the corner of Miss Emily’s.

Davies handed the refilled cup to Miss Lizzie and took the empty cups from both Miss Emily and Miss Sophia. They in turn moved their chairs closer to me and so did Miss Annie.

Soon the ladies were all drinking their second cup with the corners of their large low chairs almost touching. There was now very little space left, on the carpet, for me so was obliged to slide the lower parts of my legs and arms under their low chairs so that just my head and torso remained in view between them.

I was now surrounded by ladies and voluminous skirts and dared not move. From my position on the floor, and at their feet, I felt vulnerable in my naked state.

Miss Lizzie pulled up her skirt further to reveal a second and third petticoat also of fine white silk trimmed with Alencon lace. I couldn’t take my eyes of her undergarments and I was almost dizzy with visual stimulation. My erection jerked about wildly.

On my left side I felt Miss Emily’s feet begin massaging my waist and upper legs and watched as she lifted up the hem of her very full skirt to reveal a cream petticoat decorated with an almost transparent hem of silk Point de Rose lace. Underneath that I saw another cream petticoat decorated with thin gossamer lace.

I was slowly being driven insane by the deliberate display of such lacy petticoat finery I gradually sought relief and would have wanked myself senseless there and then if I was allowed.

On my right side I swiveled my head and watched Miss Annie hand her teacup back to Davies. I watched her lift her huge skirt to reveal a wide white silk petticoat trimmed with the most delicate flounced French Valenciennes silk lace imaginable. I even caught a glimpse of a second petticoat of similar design, and several more underneath that. Soon she had placed both her small feet on my stomach and lower chest and began massaging me vigorously.

“Does that feel agreeable Mr. ‘Underskirt Boy’?” she asked and I replied by smiling insanely with my fixed ape-like smile.

As you can imagine, by now, I had a gigantic raging erection which lay ramrod stiff along the centre line of my stomach. It twitched at every appearance of petticoat which spilled out on all three sides as the women moved or lifted their skirts. Thick volumes of semen appeared to gather in my genitals ready to be spurted out. I would have paid several guineas to be allowed to wank myself off there and then.

I tilted my head upwards and backwards to watch Sophia Hetheringham, wearing a vast dark grey and blue silk skirt, hand her empty cup and saucer to Davies. The young servant looked down her nose at me as if I were some piece of ‘spider-food’ which had crawled out of the wood work.

I pushed my head as far back as possible and watched Miss Sophia lift her skirt hem and allow two silk petticoats to spill out over my face. They were pure white and both trimmed with a wide band of Alencon lace with Calais lace sewn between the many gores. I sensed she wore similar ones beneath. All this was much too much for me and a bead of precum gathered at my erection’s tip. I had never known such sexual stimulation before and sensed that these middle-aged spinsters were very well rehearsed in their routine.

Above me I watched Miss Sophia lift her stocking clad foot and place it squarely on my chest just below my neck and then place her other foot on my shoulder. She applied weight to her feet and pushed them slowly over my skin in small circular movements.

I stared up at the soft fragile tracery of her Alencon lace petticoat flounces which slipped over me and caressed my face and neck with a thousand little rustling kisses as she moved her feet. The thin petticoat lace slid above me and I watched light shine through it as if I were inside a silk swishing cloud. It smelled freshly of floral laundry water.

I was now surrounded on all sides by voluminous skirts, exposed petticoats and stockinged legs and also covered with four pairs of roaming feet.

I watched with fascination as one by one the women picked up their sewing, knitting and journal and continued with their sedentary occupations as if I didn’t exist. It was most extraordinary but I strangely would have had it no other way.

Their feet moved slowly all over me and every part of me was massaged and stroked. Their stockings made swishing sounds as they rubbed their feet over my naked chest, thighs, upper arms, shoulders, face, nose mouth, cheeks, ears and penis.

Miss Sophia seemed to derive great pleasure from placing both her feet on my nose and mouth and moving them in tiny circles. Her feet were relatively large and she applied a fair amount of force, allowing the full weight of her legs to slide kaçak bahis over me.

I, on my part, sucked and licked her toes one by one and also her soles until her stockings became quite damp with saliva. The taste of silk was quite seductive and I lay back with my tongue hanging out. Miss Emily and Miss Annie, between them, concentrated their efforts on my chest and stomach while Miss Lizzie’s feet massaged and squeezed my testicles and penis.

This was all getting too much for me and I felt that I would ‘come’ relatively easily and seriously wished to wank myself into an early grave. I considered however that this option was still not open.

“The boy is enjoying it,” said Miss Emily watching my heavy erection flopping from side to side between her sisters’s feet.

The truth was that I was enjoying it beyond description but wondered what pleasures the sisters were deriving from merely trampling my face and body under their feet.

I lay beneath their feet for at least two hours. Sometimes they would just work at their needlecraft or read, or talk about their friends. Sometimes they would stretch their arms and stare at the people in the park. Other times they would leave the room to use the lavatory. The sun streamed through the south facing window and it was getting quite hot. I felt their feet perspire markedly through their thin black silk stockings.

“More tea I think,” said Miss Emily standing up and putting on her shoes.

Her skirt and petticoats swung over me and for an instant I peered up at her elaborate cream silk drawers and felt the crisp laciness of her petticoats slide across my face as she pushed her chair back to allow herself access to the braided bell rope which lay to one side of the mantelpiece.

She pulled the rope and returned to her seat where she promptly pulled her chair closer to me and placed her shoes on my left knee and waist. Within a minute she was running the smooth soles of her indoor shoes over my chest and groin.

I almost groaned aloud with sheer enjoyment, although inside my mind was being ripped apart with sexual excitement and frustration and the desperate need to masturbate.

I no longer felt human and appeared merely to be a convenient footstool for these women. Miss Sophia, who sat behind me, wriggled her toes over my nose, eyes and mouth and announced that she had finished her sewing for the day and then ran both her heavy feet up and down my chest several times in a bored languorous way.

She stretched her legs out like a cat and pushed Miss Lizzie’s feet off my penis. Her petticoats slipped over me, again and again and rustled and swished under her thick silk skirt. I felt the smooth coolness of her underskirts tickle me almost to the point of delirium and my penis became fiercely rampant for, perhaps, the fortieth time that morning.

Davies arrived with more tea and handed the cups to the women in turn and again looked down at me with complete disdain. I had never ever seen a maid who looked so snooty, and she was remarkably young too. I thought an energetic three hour session of merciless upskirt fanny-fingering would change the countenance on that young madam’s face, and my penis stiffened further.

Miss Sophia finished her tea and handed her cup back to Davies who hovered in the background like a sour-faced minx.

Miss Sophia stood up placing her feet astride my head and covered my face with all her petticoats and skirt. I was suddenly plunged into a warm darkness where the trapped air smelled strongly of moist vagina and urine. She moved her feet this way and that in search of her shoes which she found beneath her chair behind my head. She put them on and was instantly two inches taller. This lifted her skirt so that it was now just resting on my body.

With the light from under her hem I could see at least seven layers of lacy petticoat all hanging down over, and around, me and enveloping my face

She stood over me for several minutes, chatting to her sisters and pointing out things in the park. On my back I stared up her legs at the intricate lacy ruffles which edged her crotchless drawers. Her fleshy heavy arse hung down above me and I could just see where her stockings ended and where her thighs were gripped by lace garters. In the comparative gloom I could also just make out her dark curls.

At the same time I felt Miss Lizzie’s feet gripping my penis and slowly pulling my foreskin up and down over by glans. Other feet slid over my thighs and stomach and I felt myself churning inside. I would have begged for relief but could not. I was at their command so just lay there naked utterly frustrated and dejected. I felt absolutely desperate for a long satisfying wank.


The Day Bed with Miss Sophia.


“Well I shall take him first,” she said.”Lizzie had the last one first, so it is my turn,” Miss Sophia said with quite a firm voice.

I watched her feet and skirt move across me as she pushed her chair back away from the little space where I lay. Suddenly I was in brilliant sunlight and I blinked.

“Davies. Please open the door for me,” she said to the maidservant who bowed and opened a pair of doors which led to a small ante chamber.

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