It was his first time in her chambers. First too was seeing her, the
Lady of the house. On her torso she wore a bodice which tied up the
front. He counted that laces crossed sixty-eight times.
"I asked if you were slow in the head, or merely lost in seeing the
mistress", she chided. Her face turned away from his eyes now. He
lowered himself to his knees. "Hurry, I need dressed for the ball.
Better ensure I look ever ravishing lest you get punished", she said.
He stood and went to her with some expediency. His fingers decided on
a holiday as he was unlacing the bodice. "Crack", sounded the cat o'
nines on his bare arse. He drew himself inward and to full attention.
"Apologies, mistress I seem to be a bit nervous under pressure", he
said. The nines rested under his chin and guided him to look at her, in
the eyes.
"Relax", she said, sensing the further anxiety her gesture wrought. "The
ball is four hours away. I'm sure you'll be right enough as a consort
by then", her voice betrayed the poker face she wore. He looked away,
reached over and began unlacing her again. For now it seemed to be
easier making his fingers concentrate on the task at hand.
NB: Only a starting fragment. Please don't push for more.
This was just off the cuff, for no reason other than filling
... a void, no pun intent in that. Playing around here,
dipping toes into waters. Apologies if it's unexpected,
intrusive.