Chapter 10
Sylvia was very quiet during the evening meal. Maureen was also deep in her own thoughts.
Over coffee, Maureen murmured, "About my room, tell William to remove the sheets off the furniture and have Jennie get my things back in there."
Sylvia paled. "You don't want me?" When Maureen calmly shook her head, Sylvia folded the napkin and placed it on the table. Raising her taut body from the chair, she said quietly, "Very well, I'll tell William to move your clothes. I'm going to the library. There are things I have to do. You can stay in my room until yours is ready." She breathed jerkily, as though out of breath. "I don't want to be disturbed," she murmured, "I've had a very trying day as you know." She flashed a look of anger at her niece, then left.
Maureen stared after her with a puzzled expression on her face. The library! There always seemed to be someone secreting themselves in the library. She though of William and the replica of Anne Boleyn. And now, her aunt.
After a few minutes, Maureen got up and walked slowly down the corridor to the library. She quietly tried the doorknob, but it was locked from the inside.
Maureen let her breath out very slowly, then went downstairs. She found Jennie and told her to move her things from her aunt's suite back to her own room.
The maid gave a smile. "Oh, yes, Maureen. I'm so glad you're going back."
Maureen smiled back, faintly. "So am I," she murmured.
Later, when Jennie was replacing Maureen's clothes in her closet and admiring the mini-skirt and accessories, Maureen asked: "Does my aunt spend a lot of time in the library? I mean, by herself, with the door locked?"
Jennie glanced up, then dropped her eyes. "I guess so." She quickly went on with her work.
"What does she do in there?"
Jennie kept her back to Maureen as she answered: "How would I know that, Maureen?"
"I know what William does when he's in there alone at night."
Jennie jerked around. "You do?"
Maureen nodded.
Jennie's face turned crimson; she moved quickly toward Maureen, speaking between clenched teeth. "That statue, that Anne Boleyn!"
Maureen was startled by the little maid's reaction.
"He-he screws it," she muttered viciously.
"But what does my aunt do?" Maureen whispered.
Jennie kept her eyes on the floor as she answered: "There are other statues in there besides the one of Anne Boleyn." Then she hurried to the door. "I've got to go, Maureen. I'll be back later." And the door slammed shut behind her.
Maureen stared after her, thinking of her talk with Sylvia, of Sylvia's grandfather and of his likeness in the library. If they could put a synthetic pussy on Anne Boleyn, what could they do to the other replicas, the male ones?
Maureen opened her door very slowly and crept down the corridor to the library. The door was slightly ajar, and when she entered, she found the room empty.
She walked up to the statue of her Aunt Sylvia's grandfather. He was an imposing man, dressed in a double-breasted frock coat. It was closed, held that way by three buttons. After a moment's hesitation, Maureen unbuttoned the coat, then stifled a sudden gasp. The pants were open at the front. Projecting from the fly was a flesh-colored, imitation penis!
Maureen reached forward with a trembling hand to touch it. It was warm and moist.
Maureen turned to run to the library door and lock it.
She returned to the likeness and stared at the imitation penis. It was about eight inches long and two inches thick. At her touch it moved. She twisted it in her fingers several minutes, feeling it bounce back into position each time she relinquished her grip. It seemed to be made of hard rubber, pliable, bendable, but still reasonably stiff.
Maureen stepped onto the statue's dais, moved herself close to the replica. The penis was level with her crotch.
Maureen pushed her body forward and felt the rubber projection press through her dress, causing a small friction between her thighs. She stepped off the dais, slid off her panties, then lifted up her skirt at the front. When she stepped on the dais again, the rubber cock pushed against her pelvis. She raised herself up on tip-toe, then seized the artificial penis and eased the end of it between her thighs. In letting herself down, the rubber shaft slid smoothly into her vulva. Maureen gave a small moan of pleasure and began to move herself up and down. The synthetic penis slid in and out of her vagina with each movement. There was a small lump near the base of the shaft which pressed against her clitoris each time she let the penis penetrate to its greatest extent. Maureen's excitement mounted with each thrust. She worked herself more violently, the raw thrills throbbing through her sweating flesh. This was different, so beautifully different. Maureen's knees began to tremble from her exertions. And then she felt the first orgasmic sensations course through her body.
She made a stifled sound of pleasure, rocking her bottom back and forward. The rubber shaft penetrated deeper with every move. Then the orgasm shot through her flesh. She moaned, stifling squeals of delight with an effort, then fell back limply, dropping onto her haunches. She slowly spread herself on her back at the foot of the sexual replica, a smile playing about her damp lips.
After what seemed like an age, Maureen dragged herself to her feet. Listlessly, she picked up her nylon panties, and walked shakily to the library door. She unlocked it jerkily and stepped into the corridor.
There was the sound of indrawn breath, then Jennie's small voice gasped, "You, too, Maureen!"
She looked up to meet the accusing stare of the maid, seeing her eyes fastened on the telltale nylon panties which dangled loosely from her hand.
"You've been doin' it, too!" Jennie's voice was a blend of shock and outrage; she brushed past Maureen, hurried to the replica of Sylvia's grandfather, then muttered, viciously, "You forgot to close his coat after you'd done it!"
Maureen waited in the corridor, feeling drained of emotion after the devastating orgasm she had just experienced, shocked also that she should be discovered in her diversion.
Jennie jerked her way out of the library and closed the door behind her. "I fastened the coat," she hissed.
Maureen moved slowly to her room, and Jennie followed.
"Why did you?"
"Shut the door," snapped Maureen. Jennie slammed it shut. "Why don't you mind your own business?"
"Why with a statue?"
Maureen felt her anger mounting. "Just who do you think you are to tell me what I can or can't do?"
"Screwin' with a statue," said Jennie, contemptuously. "Stop it!"
"You're worse than your aunt. You were right when you told me that. It's her statue, not yours.
You didn't hafta fuck it!"
Maureen lashed out with her hand, slapping the girl across the face.
"You're asking for a spanking," she hissed.
The weight of the blow made Jennie sprawl forward onto the bed. She turned her head now, held her hand at her face, and looked at Maureen with shock and anger.
"You don't have to be mad at me just because you're ashamed of yourself."
Maureen trembled with rage. "I'm not ashamed of myself!" Then she turned and snatched her thin leather belt off the dresser.
"No, Maureen, no!" Frantically, Jennie tried to wriggle off the bed away from Maureen, but she was too late.
Maureen reached down, put her hand on Jennie's neck and twisted her onto her face. "I'm stronger than you, Jennie, don't fight me-" she panted.
The little maid struggled weakly as Maureen dragged down her briefs. When her small, rounded bottom was bared, she pleaded, "Please, Maureen, no!"
Maureen smiled grimly, lifted up the belt and brought it down onto the soft, waiting buttocks. Jennie screamed as the thin leather cut into her bottom. Maureen was shocked at the pleasure she felt. The thrill ran up her arm and down to her navel. She lashed the maid's bottom again. The thrill ran through Maureen's body more strongly.
Six times the thin leather belt cut into tender flesh, leaving its mark on the young girl's sensitive bottom. Finally, Maureen dropped the strap. "Now, you can get up!"
Jennie turned her head slowly to look at Maureen's face. "You enjoyed spankin' me, Maureen. You enjoyed it!" Her voice was hurt and outraged.
But Maureen was staring at Jennie's buttocks. Just looking at the livid welts she'd made gave her a thrill.
"You're worse than your aunt."
Maureen smiled at her, a thin, cruel smile. "I already told you that. Now d'you believe me?"
Jennie nodded. She slowly got to her feet and picked up her panties. She struggled into them, dragging them up tightly at her crotch while Maureen watched.
"Maybe you'll mind your own business in the future."
Jennie gave her a frightened glance. "Can-can I go now?"
"After you've kissed me goodnight," said Maureen.
Reluctantly, Jennie walked up to Maureen and raised her pursed lips.
Maureen kissed her deeply, sensually. When she felt the girl respond, she reached under Jennie's skirt and gave her tender, abused bottom a vicious pinch. She could feel the scream bubbling to Jennie's lips, but she kept her mouth pressed down hard, holding the back of the maid's head with her free hand and pinching with the other.
When she finally let go, tears were running from Jennie's eyes.
"Goodnight, Jennie," said Maureen.
But all Jennie could do was sob and run from the room.