The Staff - Part 5 - The Visitor

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Michael sulked his way down the corridor. After three days with only his tutor, Victor, for company (and peculiar company at that) he had been looking forward to a meal with some real people. It was fair to say that his throwback father and his stuffy lawyer only just counted as real… and people, but they were the closest he had. Now something had come up (something always 'comes up') and he would be dining alone.

Michael felt a chill down his spine and he spun around. Did that door just close? Was there someone there? He heard a noise and spun around again. Goddamnit, Michael, he thought, keep it together. For over a week he had been having trouble sleeping. He thought it was down to his nocturnal encounters with the maid, but the last few nights he had been alone and it had been worse. It wasn't the company, it was his dreams...

He rushed towards the stairs. This stupid bloody house had been getting creepier and creepier as the nights got darker, and his lack of rest just made it worse. Michael was so busy checking shadows and jumping at noises that he nearly ran into Eugenia.

"Oh!" she said, giving a little laugh of relief, "I found you!"

"Good, er, evening," he stammered, trying to convince himself she was real, "You were looking for me?"

"Yes," she said, with a friendly smile, "Everything about this evening had gone sideways and I wanted to ask a favour."

"Well, alright," he said, now less concerned but still confused.

"My mother and yours have had some kind of disagreement," Eugenia said, looking upset and more than a little angry, "And they have decided to go into town to 'resolve something'. Frankly it sounds like they are making it up so they don't have to tell me what is really going on. Anyway, if you are still dining here I hoped that I could join you?"

"Oh, right," he said, now happy this was a straightforward conversation, "That's no trouble at all. It will just be us, our fathers are also having some sort of disagreement. Dinner is at seven-thirty, so if you want you can change or freshen up… erm, not that you…"

Eugenia gave him a tight lipped smile and he was sure she was about to tease him, but she just put a hand on his arm.

"You're an angel," she said, "I'll see you at seven-thirty."

She flashed him another smile and went upstairs. Michael headed to the kitchen wondering why he could not remember what Eugenia had been wearing when they spoke. As he walked down the stairs he had to silence the doubts in his head that said he had not had a conversation with her at all…

The kitchen was busy, but compared to the house anything would seem so. Nora noticed him and came over, standing closer than a servant should; closer enough that she had to tilt her head to look up at him.

"Can I help you, sir?" she asked.

"Yes," he said.

Usually, he would have explained the new plans for dinner, thanked Nora, and she would have gone to tell the cook, Amy. He would have lingered a moment just in case, then left. That was exactly what he had planned, but that was not what happened. Instead there was a gap after 'Yes' during which he thought about the fact he had not seen Nora for three days. He thought about the last time he had seen her, when she had been naked, when her dark brown skin was pressed against his. He thought about touching her, kissing her, sliding inside her. Right now, looking at her so close and fully dressed he expected to feel her hands unfastening his pants…

"I think you were told I was eating alone," he said, his dry mouth saying the words as he looked into Nora's eyes and thought of more exciting things, "But plans have changed. I will be joined by our guest, Miss Philbert."

"Very well, sir," she replied, and she walked off to tell Amy. Before she entered the kitchen Amy appeared.

"Master Michael-" began Nora.

"I heard," Amy interrupted.

Nora hurried away and Amy stared at Michael. He stared back. He had stood up to the cook before and he had no problem doing so now. As well as his status he had a clear memory of spying on her while she was being humiliated and used by his tutor, Victor. Thinking of that no doubt hardened his stare, amongst other things.

He waited for her to back down, but she did not. She mouthed something then smiled. From nowhere he was gripped by a feeling of unease. Nerves exploded in his stomach and he took in a shuddering breath. He itched all over, so much so that his arm twitched

Without a second thought he turned around and went straight to his room. He splashed water in his face then walked around until the feeling subsided. When he looked at the clock it was seven-fifteen. Gripped by a different kind of anxiety, he changed and headed back down stairs. Eugenia was there when he arrived and she took his arm in a kind of mock formality when they went into the small dining room. Of course, the servants had put them on opposite sides of the table. Fortunately, it was not a particularly large table.

"I don't mean to be funny," Eugenia said, "But I thought you had more staff the time I was here, and even more in the summer. The house seems, I don't know, empty."

Michael nodded in agreement.

"Father is very practical," he said, "He lets staff go the moment they are no longer needed. At one point the staff said there would be no-one to keep the house clean, so he fired most of the maids and brought in contractors twice a month."

"Sounds vicious!" Eugenia gasped with mock horror, "I can see why he doesn't get on with your butler."

Michael laughed and Eugenia gave him a quizzical look.

"Well," he said, "I wouldn't know about that. I haven't seen McAdams in months, not since he remarried and moved to town. When he's here I'm mostly studying."

Eugenia fell silent as the first course arrived, a small Cesar salad, and she seemed uncomfortable. Michael got the feeling she wanted to ask something, but no question arrived.

The awkward silence persisted through the main course, a rich game pie. When she had finished she gave him an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I must have been hungrier than I thought."

Michael did not believe her. He knew they had exhausted their conversation the last time they had dined together, and neither of them could think of anything else to say. However, any ill will over being ignored evaporated when he considered how she had said 'hungrier' and how she was looking at him now. Even when the servants cleared their plates she kept her eyes on Michael. She did not stare, but her eyes seemed to be doing more than just looking.

"Did you enjoy the food?" Michael asked, "There will be dessert."

"Oh, it was all good," she replied, her concentration broken for a moment by the mundane question, but she recovered quickly, "But I've always got room for something sweet."

Michael smiled and shifted uncomfortably. It felt like she was flirting with him, but he was not sure if she was doing it very well. Perhaps that is what happens when you get two people from sheltered upbringings during their second conversation.

Michaela recognised the dessert when it arrived, a kind of chocolate sundae which Amy had been known to create at short notice. As soon as he took a whiff he knew he was right; the lack of preparation was covered by the liberal application of cream liqueur. Eugenia took a small spoonful and tasted it making a satisfied sound followed by an exaggerated 'mmmmmm'.

"If I didn't know any better," she said through her second mouthful of sundae, "I'd say you were conspiringing with your cook to get me drunk."

Michael laughed, "I don't think I could conspire with our cook if hell had me."

Eugenia laughed at that as if it were an in-joke, raising Michael's suspicions again. She took several more small mouthfuls, apparently unaware she had done anything out of the ordinary.

You're just being paranoid, Michael thought, and kept on eating his dessert.

"I wouldn't be too mad, you know," she said, just before eating her last spoonful, "If you tried. But I'm afraid that I would notice."

"I'll have to try something else, then," he joked. She laughed a little, then took a sip of water and looked at him over her glass. All around a handful of servants were clearing away.

"That's our cue to leave," he said, standing and walking around the table to hold her chair as she did the same. He did not know where this chivalrous side of him was coming from, but Eugenia did not seem to mind.

When they left the dining room a silence fell over them. They walked up the stairs together to where the corridors to the family rooms and guest rooms met.

"Goodnight Michael," she said, "It was a lovely dinner."

She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. With another sweet smile she walked off to her room.

"Goodnight," he managed to say, and she looked back over her shoulder at him before she vanished.

"I have to sleep," Michael said to himself, walking down the other corridor to his room.

Once dressed for bed he turned out all of the lights and crawled under the covers. Despite his fears there were no figures in the darkness, and when he closed his eyes he did not dream…

Michael awoke in darkness. He felt like he had slept for a week. His arms and legs felt heavy and when he tried to stretch his body barely reacted. He blinked and tried to look at the clock but he could not see it. No light was showing against the edges of the curtains, but this late in October that might be midnight or a cloudy midday.

The clock was not there. Instead there was something else; a dark figure in a long hooded cloak. Michael was frantic, but his body just twitched. He tried to cry out, but no sound came from his mouth. Instead a painful itch shot up from his throat to his temple.

Another cloaked figure stood on the other side of the bed and more stepped out of the shadows. The bedclothes were thrown off and a strong hand gripped his wrist. As soon as its finger touched the shape scratched into his wrist his body unfroze, but all Michael could do was get out of bed and stand. Unable to act, he stood still as hands appeared from under the cloaks to remove his pyjamas.

For a moment he was naked, then a cloak was thrown over him. Unlike the cloaks of the intruders, the hood on his had been modified so it covered his face. If he looked down he could make out his pale feet against the dark carpet, nothing more.

Again a hand gripped his wrist. He was led from the room, the faint footsteps of the intruders around him, along with whispered chants. As well as the odd cinnamon smell coming from his cloak he could also smell perfume and incense. The smell was getting stronger and he did not want to walk towards it, but he could not help himself.

They turned left. The guest bedrooms, thought Michael. Another left and they stopped. A door was closed behind him and his cloak was removed. There was a bright light, then darkness. His vision clouded, he could only just make out a bed and some dark shapes moving. Someone at either side of him took hold of his wrists and pushed them over his head. They were restrained and he stood, half-suspended, waiting either for something to happen to him or for his vision to return.

Both came at once. His eyes finally adjusted to see a short cloaked figure in front of him. Two others opened the cloak to reveal dark skin, taut muscles and large breasts. The hood remained in place, but Michael knew it was Nora, the scullery maid. He tried to say something, to ask her what was happening, but he could not make a sound. She walked to him then knelt down. Her hood meant he could not see what was happening, but he felt hot breath on his member and warm hands touching his balls. He had been slightly aroused by the cloak rubbing against him, but now his cock responded quickly.

The room was silent apart from the muffled sounds of Nora's mouth around his penis. There was movement near the bed, but Michael could only make out dark shapes. He heard whispering, not the strange words he had heard before, but people arguing. Arguing about time; then, now, later.

Nora sucked hard on his cock and he lost concentration. She released it with a smacking sound and stood up. He could only see her hood, but he could feel his member prodding her in the stomach. She lingered until others came to release his hands. As soon as he was free, she was gone.

The figures on either side led him to the bed. He stood at the foot and he saw cloaked figures all around. He could see some chins and mouths under the hoods and they were moving. A chant started, quiet at first, as a cloak on the bed was drawn back to reveal… Eugenia?

There she was, naked on the bed, legs apart. Her arm was across her breasts, pressing them flat against her chest. Her other hand was over her crotch, covering herself. He noticed that hand was trembling.

He saw her auburn hair spread out like a fiery halo, her wide grin and hungry eyes, the freckles on her chest, her flat stomach and long legs. He could feel her looking back and he saw her smile fade when she saw his erection. Her eyes went wide, not with fear but with lust. He could see her chest rising and falling more and more as he felt his own heart rate climb.

The cloaked figures on either side pushed him onto the bed and two more climbed on to either side of Eugenia. They took his arms and pulled him forward so he was between her knees.

"You know what to do," said a female voice, somewhere from the left.

"This time stay inside," said another, which sounded like Cynthia.

"But-" he managed, but that was all he could say.

Eugenia took her arm from her breasts and her hand from her groin.

"I'm ready," she said, clearly and confidently, "I want you to. I want you."

Michael went towards her a little on his knees. He looked at her chest, her large tits spilling out over it, dark red nipples crowning each one. They made his nervous dry mouth water.

He looked between her legs to see a neat patch of orange pubes and a pink glistening vulva. It was so inviting. He licked his lips, ready to taste it, but as soon as her hands made contact with his arms she pulled him upwards.

He lay forward onto her. She was warm and soft. As his cock made contact with her his balls rubbed against the mat on which she was lying. It felt rough and uncomfortable, but she did not seem to mind.

On impulse he licked one of her nipples, then sucked it and caught it between his teeth. She moaned with pleasure, but pulled him further so they were face to face. The tip of his cock pressed against her and she moaned again, rocking her hips so her wet quim rubbed against him.

For a moment there was only her, but then the figures around the bed began chanting. It was quiet, but it sounded impatient. There were two still either side of Eugenia, and they began the whispers, the ones that clouded his mind. At the same time they both opened their cloaks. One was definitely Cynthia, he recognised her pale skin and ghostly nipples. The other was a well muscled man with dark hair on his chest. Michael thought he could see an erection, but he did not want to look and confirm it.

His brain fogged over more and he could only think of one thing. He moved his hips so the tip of his cock moved up and down her slit. She felt wet and inviting. She gasped and moaned as it found her opening and he pressed against it, familiar with the feeling now. She was tight, tighter than Nora, and Eugenia cried out a little as he pushed inside. He stopped and looked down at her.

"It's OK," she whispered, "My first…"

"Your first?" he asked, "Are you…?"

"Yes," she breathed, "Yes, I want it to be you, like this."

"They said I should finish inside you," he said, ignoring the whispers.

"Yes," Eugenia said, insistent, "I want you to. Now do it, please fuck me. Do it now, please!"

She cried out as he obeyed and pushed his cock into her. He stopped then pushed a little more until he was thrusting back and forth with about half of his length. Once she showed more pleasure than pain he went deeper.

"Oh, shit, there's more!" she cried, "Oh, oh shit, more! M-more, give me more!"

Michael obliged, thrusting in and out, going deeper with every movement. Every time she cried out it made him harder. All of a sudden she moved her hips and he was buried inside of her. He moaned and savoured her tight hole around his cock and the way she gave a faint cry with every breath. He felt a sharp pain in his foot, probably cramp, so he kept still while it passed. When he began to move again she wrapped her legs around him and used them to guide the rhythm. 

He kept up the short movements, keeping himself deep inside her and feeling the base of his shaft pushing against her entrance. She began to twitch and she moved beneath him, breathing in short gasps. When she came he cried out as well; the spasms in her vagina felt like a hand was squeezing his shaft. When it eased he thrust again, but he already felt the telltale signs in his balls. He would finish soon and he did not know if he wanted to do as he was told.

In the end he had no choice. When he moved his feet to gain purchase his left foot hurt so much he stopped. Eugenia’s legs were now tight around him, which was not only keeping him in place but was so arousing he wanted to come inside her. Cynthia and the man with them on the bed were taking no chances. They held onto his backside, moving their hands in time with his thrusts but not letting him withdraw very far.

In the end he accepted it. He arched his back so he could bury himself deep inside of her while moving his head to come face to face with her breast. He licked and nibbled and sucked as the pressure built. Eugenia held his head and cried out for him to come. All around the dark figures chanted and whispered in time with the sex act happening on the bed in front of them.

Michael shuddered and he came, his face pressed against her tit and his mouth held open in ecstasy. His cock twitched and squirted inside her and she twitched along with it. After not coming for days he kept pumping cum into her for an age, and with every spurt a strained groan escaped from his mouth. When he finished he was so sensitive he had to hold still. In the end he just buried his face in her neck and she stroked his hair until he was done.

There was a sharp pain in his foot and the pressure on his ass was gone. He kissed Eugenia and she kissed him back, but she pulled away and looked at the figures around her. They pulled her knees up and pushed him as he pulled out of her. She gasped, but paid no further attention to him. He got off the bed, his foot sore and his balls aching. A cloaked figure helped him stand and once again Nora was there. She cleaned his cock with a soft cloth, then finished the job with her mouth. He flinched when she licked his sensitive glans. A cloak was placed over him again and they led him hobbling from the room.

Back in his own room the cloak was removed. Nora removed her cloak and brought him a glass full of an amber liquid. He took it and she stood right up against him, her warm body soothing him. He put his arm around her as he drank the sweet and spicy draught. It burned his throat slightly and felt warm in his stomach. The other person in the room with him, a man who had removed his cloak and was now naked, took the glass and led him to the bed.

Michael was suddenly bone-weary. The covers were pulled back and he got under them. He was nearly asleep when his head hit the pillow. Instead of getting into bed with him, the man lay on the covers to his left and Nora did the same to his right. They held the covers down, pinning him in place. With effort he turned onto his side to face Nora, but the pressure, the exhaustion and the draught sent him to sleep before he could see her face.

That night, he did not dream.


Or did he? When he woke he was alone. There were no imprints in the blanket to suggest others had been on the bed. There was no pain in his foot or his testicles. He felt rested in a way he had not been for over a week. According to the clock he was awake early, nearly half an hour before his alarm was due to go off.

Michael felt his head was finally clear… but with that he realised most of the last week might have been a dream. He must be ill, or he had been ill. He had made it through each day, but at night he must have fallen deep asleep and dreamed about sex. He was sure he had had sex with Cynthia, but maybe only the once. All of the other times seemed like a fantasy. Maybe Nora did like him, but maybe she was just a scullery maid and he was having horny dreams about her. Maybe he did see Victor and Amy together, and that had combined with his experiences from school to add Victor into one of his fantasies. That last one made more sense than his tutor showing up in the middle of a threesome he was having with two maids…

He shook his head. He would take all of the weird things that had happened if all of the good things were real. He would definitely take that over thinking he had been hallucinating for eight days straight.

Last night. Last night was… different. At the time it had seemed more like a dream, yet more real than anything else. He decided the only way to know for sure was to ask someone who had been there. He also decided that was the last thing he was going to do…

After all, he still had the scratches. And they were everywhere.

Amy sighed with relief as she surveyed the table in front of her. They had gathered everything she needed: the vial of semen, the map of runes etched into the boy's skin, the bag of his blood, the mat on which the girl had been taken, stained with her blood.

The Putis were preparing the site in the woods. Within days, the very turn of Hallowe’en, He would be here.