He wanders around the room, dusting the valuables with a cool focus. He black suit shapes him quite well, and she suppresses a sigh as he bends over. She huffs impatiently when she notices the tailcoat hiding his gorgeous arse, and considers banning it from the uniform. She loves watching him work, the quiet pleasure he got from a job well done. The small grins he’d wear as he finished something particularly challenging. She loved anytime when his professional mask would slip to reveal the sweet man underneath.
He straightened, surveying the room with a satisfied smile before collecting himself and turning to her. “Will there be anything else, my lady?”
She smirks and stretches out of the couch with a hum, pleased at the way he glances at her chest and looks away flushing.
“I don’t know Mr. Brandt. There may be a spot just on the coffee table here, if you wouldn’t mind seeing to it.”
He looks positively scandalised at the notion, and moves to her side of the table, stooping to inspect it. “Where?” He asks, titling his head this and that way, trying to find the offending spot.
“Why, somewhere around there Mr. Brandt.” She said, lazily reaching between his legs to point to the table. His breathing quickens as he feels warmth pooling between his thighs and he resists the urge to close them.
He instead takes a deep breath and wipes the table, trying to ignore her hand that rests on the table, still under his legs. It gently slides over so that her pinky is brushing the inside of his knee and he closes his eyes for a moment, feeling the gentle pressure.
“That’s it Brandt. You just have to find the right spot.” She whispers as her hand abandons the table to slowly caress the inside of his thigh. He feels a little dizzy and tries not to move as she travels higher and higher.
“Come on Brandt, be vigorous.” she purrs and he polishes harder and hums surprised as a finger brushes his cock. She rubs it firmly and he suppresses a moan.
He noticed that she’d moved to behind him, her other hand covering his, guiding the rag as it glided across the table. Her soft breasts press against his back and he sighs, leaning into her.
She continues to fondle him lightly, smirking as she feels his cock twitch at her ministrations.
She presses a kiss to his neck and licks a trail up to his ear. He arches into her with a low sigh and turns, regarding her with pained eyes. “We can’t, my lady. We both know you must marry well… nothing could come of this.”
She clicks her tongue, gently pushing him down onto the couch and tracing his face. “I wasn’t thinking quite so long term Brandt. We’ll deal with that when we must. For now, focus on us, on right now.”
He lets his head fall back as she presses a kiss to his cheek, his lips.
“Did you really think I’d let you go? Your long legs, your hidden smiles, that gorgeous body swathed in black and rushing around my home? You should have known I would try to claim you one day.”
He looks up hurt and notices her hand stroke his chest, holding him down. “I’m not a prize you can claim.”
“No. You’re a gift and I’ll treat you as such.” She breathes in his ear, fingers pulling at the knot of his tie, slithering it away from him.
He sighs up at her, allowing a tiny part of himself to believe that she meant what she said. She pauses to cradle his face and gaze down at him. “Why can’t you let yourself have fun? Hmm? I know you want this just as much as I do.” She traces the skin on his neck with one finger, letting him squirm sensitively before she nips it gently.
“I see you, my dear. I know you.” She murmurs and the tension drains away from him, a pent up sorrow taking its place. His heart yanking on it’s chains, wanting to throw itself to her.
“You deserve to be happy, to feel good, and I’ll bring pleasure to you even if I have to tie you up.” She breathes and he gasps as she pulls his tie tight around his wrists. He tests the binding, tugging at it and finding that he’s unable to lower his arms.
She sits back and admires her work, as he gazes lovingly up at her. She straddles him with a contented hum, running both hands through his hair and smiling at him.
“Is this okay?”
He nods, letting his eyes fall shut as she kisses him. “Yes.”
“My love…”
“Don’t. Please,” He adds sadness shining in his eyes. “Don’t make me think that we could ever be…”
She huffs in amusement, settling on him fully and burying her face in his hair. “I know that I shall keep you forever. Till death do us part. And you’ll know that too, in time.” Her eyes rove over him, a hunger glinting in her eyes.
“Oh look at you.” She murmurs, leaning forward to kiss him again, her tongue exploring his mouth, her new property. She cards her hands through his hair again and gazes down at him with affection simmering in her eyes. “Is this truly alright dear?”
He nods, matching her doe-eyed expression. She unties him and takes him by the hand, leading him to her bedroom. He stares wide-eyed around a room that he usually only has the pleasure of cleaning.
She chuckles and pushes him against the door, kissing him thoroughly. He shivers and returns the kiss, whimpering as she licks into his mouth. He lets her continue the onslaught, the lack of oxygen and her intoxicating presence making him weak. She pulls back slightly to lick and kiss at his neck, smirking as she hears a strangled gasp.
“You spend so much time dressing and undressing other people. Let me repay you.” She whispers into his ear before licking behind it. He nods nervously and steps forward as she pulls his suit jacket off.
“Ma’am-”
“You don’t have to address me that way you know. Especially not since we’re about to do this.” She laughs softly, resting the jacket over a chair and fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.
He hesitates and nods, looking over his shoulder at her. “Very well, Clara. I’m… not shaped like most men. It’s… rather complicated.”
“I know.” He gives her a curious look and she kisses his cheek fondly. “I’ve touched you haven’t I? I’ve gotten very used to what’s between your legs. Though I hope it’ll be me in a minute,” She breathes, making him moan quietly, resting his head on her shoulder.
“You’re like me dear. There are two of us born with the wrong… equipment.”
He sighs, helping her to shrug his shirt off. “I wish you didn’t know the pain of living in a body that wasn’t never meant for you.” She hums sadly and they both consider for a moment how unfairly difficult it all is.
“Nevermind, let’s make the most of what we have, yes? That is, if you’re comfortable.”
“Yes,” he breathed and she leaned in to give him a quick peck on the lips.
“Good. I can’t wait to be inside you.” She murmurs, and grins at his eyes blown wide with lust. He begins to undress with more enthusiasm.
She runs her hands down his flat chest, as she sinks to her knees to unbutton his trousers. Tracing a finger over a faded pink scar below his pectoral muscle, she grins wryly up at him. “Hard for us to explain this away.”
“They were… ripped off by a passing carriage.” She lets out a bark of laughter as she deprives him of his trousers and pants in one movement.
“What a considerate carriage, to have left you with such neat scars.” He nods, busy flushing at the realization that he stands completely naked before her. He rubs his upper arm as her eyes travel his body, feeling like food in a shop window. On display, waiting to be consumed. How accurate the comparison was. He would gladly give everything up for her, heart, body and soul. If only she knew how much power she held over him, perhaps then when he’s inevitably cast aside, it would be a kinder dismissal.
These thoughts quickly evaporate as she stands again, catching his lips in a teasing kiss and turning to consider him from over her shoulder.
“Would you mind?”
“Not at all,” he whispers, undoing the laces at her back. The over dress is gently removed and her corset is unlaced. His hands linger and stroke the exposed skin, causing her to shiver.
He puts the clothes on the chair with his, smiling at the sight they make, strewn together. Clothing of commoner and nobility, no longer needed. There is no class here.
A hand connects with his own, a pair of drawers joins the pile. He’s slightly annoyed with the many layers deemed necessary for women of the 18th century. When he turns back he’s met with the breath taking sight of Clara’s naked body laying sprawled across the bed. He moves towards her as if in a dream, pressing a kiss to her ankle, and then inner thigh. Slowly traveling further until he’s nosing between her legs, spurred on by her whines.
“What shall I call it?” He asks, running a finger along the part in question. “A clit perhaps. Though I’d prefer you’d speak of what I’m doing to you, while you can still talk. And for you?”
She asks, dipping a finger into his wetness and eliciting a groan. “My cock.” He blushes down at her, simultaneously turned on and grateful that she had the presence of mind to clip her nails. Was this why she was washing her hands and grinning at him suggestively? He was eager to unravel the puzzle that was Clara.
She smiles at him comfortingly, as she rolls him onto his back. “Shh,” she murmurs as she reaches for a condom in the side drawer. He looks up nervously.
“Please tell me that’s not historically accurate.” She laughs rolling it on. “No, I have some sense of mercy.”
They kiss, tongues brushing teasingly. She moves and they both shiver as her clit brushes his cock. “Cl-Clara.” He gasps as they rub together, a warm pleasure spreading through them.
She brushes against his opening. “My love. I’m going to enter you okay?”
He nods, delirious as she slips inside him. She goes agonisingly slowly, his eyelids fluttering as he’s breached inch by inch.
She closes her eyes, sighing with satisfaction before pulling out lightly and pushing back in. He lets out a guttural moan and covers his mouth with his hand, looking slightly mollified. She grins and takes his wrist, kissing it before pressing it to the bed above his head. “I want to hear you. Don’t be embarrassed… oh. Oh.” She breaths, feeling pleasure glow in her chest.
He grins too caressing her face with his free hand, letting move lower until he gently strokes one breast, moving down to where they’re connected and back up again.
“My lovely girl. You’re all that I need.” He breathes, every thrust forcing the truth out of him.
Her head bows over him, her soft blonde hair sweeping over his face. He pulls her closer letting her bury her face in his neck as he traces circles on her back.
“I love you.” He whispers, and her heart breaks, knowing it’s all a part of the act. “I love you too.” She isn’t as good of an actor as him.
He rolls them over, riding her as he brackets her face with his forearms, staring at her adoringly. She can only stare as he strokes her cheeks with his thumbs.
“Look at you. I can’t believe I get to have this.” A slow smile lights up her face, like the sun coming out, and he basks in her beauty. She allows herself the fantasy.
They make love, smooth limbs sliding over each other. He fondles her breast and her moans grow louder, mingling with his groaning.
She lets out a little “Ah!” as slow, burning pleasure tips her over the edge, and her release leaves her boneless beneath him. He comes soon after with a whine and a few quiet curses, and lays across her chest. They hold each other close as the aftershocks sweep through them, still connected as pleasure pulses through them.
“I love you.” He says a bit more decidedly, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. She wraps her arms around him, closing her eyes. “And I love you.”
After a while, they regretfully untangle and clean up, only to cuddle back together again immediately.
She buries her face in his hair, breathing in his scent and the feeling of him swirls down to the deepest parts of her.
“Hmm. How was it?” She asks, pressing a quick kiss to his head.
“Wonderful, as you know.” He replies, tucking his nose against her neck and humming contentedly. “I can’t believe how nerdy we are.”
“I know…”
“18th century themed sex.”
“I knooooow.” She kisses him again and holds him tighter, knowing sadly that soon they’d have to go back to friendly roommate status. A friends with benefits type arrangement, devoid of the romantic passion she just wants to drown him in. Yes, the butler is in love with the lady of the house. But that’s just a story.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/psctk0/a_lady_and_her_butler_mf_fdom_transgender
Note: They had both negotiated this earlier on, and Clara isn’t really his employer, because that’d be pretty messed up.