Constance's present
by Aristocatch

If I had thought that my three-way-battle would be my last for a while (which I did), I was wrong.

I was out riding when I encountered a small carriage being driven towards the house by a young man. The passenger or passengers I could not see. Being by nature curious I intercepted it and found there to be a young woman inside, who asked me if I was Lady Jane. When I so confirmed she handed me a letter, which turned out to be from Constance, my ex-maid.

My Lady

I have heard that you have not, as yet, found someone to replace me.

Recently I have made the acquaintance of the young lady who gave you this letter. Her name is Sarah and she has previously worked as a maid, but in households much less prominent than yours. Her references seem more than satisfactory.

This letter is not the place to explain how I came to find out about her other talents (I'm sure she could tell you). Suffice to say that I am sure that if you ask to test her you will not be disappointed!

I hope that I have done the right thing in sending her to your Ladyship.

Your devoted servant

Constance

I was well pleased to read the letter. My bruises from Kelly's assaults had worn off and I was quite ready for a renewed session of strenuous physical exercise. Testing Sarah would be a pleasure and, if she proved not up to the task I could always send her away. So I rode with the carriage to the house, where we unloaded the bag containing her belongings. I informed her that, as she came well recommended, I was prepared to give her two weeks trial, but I did not explain quite what I had in mind.

The first three days she behaved as a maid should, quite satisfactorily. On the fourth day I took her with me when I went out for a walk. After a while we sat on a bench, placed there for just such a purpose, and I showed her the letter from Constance. I had not thought about it in advance (I should have), and found that she could not read it. So I read it to her and then asked her to explain Constance's remarks to me. She was embarrassed at first and I had to give her some indication of the activities Constance and I had shared. Eventually she accepted to tell me her story.

“In the village where I lived there is a ball game every year that involves all the men and women of the village, against our neighbouring village. The game lasts hours and is used by lots of people to get their own back on the others. It's often very rough. It was the first game after I arrived in service in the village, and also Constance's.

There are few rules and lots of people get hurt. But everyone has to work the next day, so most people stop short of seriously injuring anyone. Men and women take part, but men are not allowed to hit women.

The number of people around the ball was too many, and so it wasn't moving. A small group of us started pulling women from the other team out of the mass. Suddenly someone I didn't see kicked me between the legs and I fell down in pain. The mass was quite close and a lady from my village pulled me away while I recovered. It was Constance and that was how we met. She had seen who had kicked me and said as that wasn't allowed we ought to get our own back. She pointed out a dark-haired woman who, with one of her friends, was targeting women from our village. We waited until they were on the edge of the group and then jumped on them.

We each sat on one of them in such a position that the we could grab them between their legs and hurt them where they had hurt me. Constance showed me how. She told them what we would do to them if they kicked anyone else from our village.

The rest of the day Constance and I stayed together. We didn't see those women kicking again, but we did throw them to the ground, often. By the end of the day everyone was covered in bruises and little cuts and we had been very rough with lots of women from the other village.

Our village won and afterwards there was a big party for both villages, when people made peace. I stayed with Constance, my new friend. We talked to the lady who had kicked me who told us she had been kind all day “ 'cos she could've hurt us real bad”. Constance challenged her to prove it and after a talk all four of us went out into the dark away from the party.

We had a fight and we beat them!”

I asked her what kind of fight and she told me more details. I wished I had been there. The idea of them all covered in scratches scrapping until the others gave in made me really excited. She said the others had fought really hard and they had all finished as friends, at least until next year's game.

It took me several days to talk her into having a fight with me. I recounted some juicy moments with Constance. Finally to get her to accept I had to tell her that I would not keep her unless she hurt me enough.

There was a large wood not far from the house, with several small clearings in it. Provided no-one was in the wood one of these would be an ideal place. My imagination regretted that I did not have a second potential maid so that I could make them fight for the job, so as to see a really good fight. But I did not, and so I had to give thought as to what kind of a fight I wanted.

When we got to the clearing I had chosen it seemed very nearly ideal. The ground was quite soft, and it did not take us long to clear away a few branches and make the area safe. I did not want to scare Sarah off, but I did want a good hard scrap. I proposed that we kept our skirts on, and merely removed our clothes to the waist. When I saw her breasts, I was even keener to keep her in my employ. They were relatively small, but upturned at the end, giving a profile that just cried out to be squeezed!

In fact she was quite a slim girl, with long fingers and equally long hair, which she tied back out of the way. I proposed that we wrestle initially to sit on the other so that they could not move, eschewing roughness in favour of seeing whether she had any technical prowess. This suggestion found favour with her and she proceeded to demonstrate a considerable agility, which my greater experience allowed me to combat. The result was quite satisfying.

Her story of how she and Constance subdued the warring villagers suggested that she could cope with some pain, but I wanted to find out for myself. There is only one way that I know how to fight that causes pain, but no serious harm. Any rougher form of fighting was difficult between a mistress and her maid. But when I proposed to Sarah that we remove our clothes and fight naked she was not keen. According to her the clearing was too public a place. After initially refusing entirely she eventually suggested that we remove undergarments and keep our skirts. She argued less about the style of fighting (perhaps Constance had prepared her for this), but was adamant that it should not involve winning or losing. If she hurt me too much I was to say so and we would stop! Perhaps Constance had not prepared her that well.

She shyly removed her underclothes, giving me no glimpse of where I intended to test her resilience, in addition to those tantalising breasts of course. Do not get me wrong. My husband satisfies my needs very well, but I have never been against appreciating an attractive female form, and I have no qualms about indulging in intimate combat – provided that it is in combat, or immediately post combat. I would not seek out another woman specifically for sexual gratification.

I had noticed the length of her fingers and I was now to discover their strength! Usually when my breasts have been squeezed in combat it is initially not particularly painful – though it can become painful as the fighting gets harder. Sarah did not respect that rule. From the first grasp her fingers seemed to penetrate deep into my flesh and when she twisted them it hurt.

Do not believe that I allowed her to hurt me at will. After that initial shock I quickly revised my plans to remove mutual breast squeezing in favour of a more controlled approach. This produced considerably more wrestling than was often the case, with attacking opportunities being rather shorter than usual.

I imagine the first phase lasted several minutes, while we each sought to subdue the other, free a hand and squeeze. Squeezes were short, even if hers at least, were painful. She did not even target the nipple, but a fleshy area just below. I grabbed whatever I could and, except for once when I dug what little nails I had into her nipple, it did not seem to incommode her unduly.

After a while I thought about the area beneath her skirt and what I could perhaps do to it, but the problem was how to get there, given the length of the skirt. Her fingers were causing me enough discomfort that I had to protect myself, but I tried whenever I had a hand free to get it beneath her skirt. To do this I had to stop attacking her chest. She left me to my unsuccessful efforts, all the while torturing my breasts as and when she could. I was quite frankly getting nowhere, while she continued causing me intermittent pain.

I decided to limit my defence, in a bid to get up beneath her skirt. This must have been what she had been waiting for as, leaving me tied up around the hem of her skirt she somehow inveigled her hand between my skirt and my waist and latched those long fingers onto my 'protected' intimacy – with equally painful results.

I had two choices, either to abandon attack and force the withdrawal of her hand, or to accept the pain and throw caution to the winds. As is my wont I followed the latter path and was at least rewarded with a handful of opulently hair-covered female flesh. Even though her fingers were long, strong and surprisingly flexible, they were restricted by being held in place between the skirt and my body. My hands were much freer and my movements less restricted. I therefore enjoyed a piece of pay-back time, revelling in pulling apart that which modesty kept closed. I could have enjoyed continuing like that for a while, but Sarah was not that naïve. Removing her hand while I was concentrating on what my fingers could reach she was able to seize me across my chest and pull me backwards onto her.

Now I was on my back, her legs had snaked round me from behind, holding me in place and those long fingers had full access to my chest. I for my part, could not touch her. She calculated far too well when to just hold me in place, counteracting my wild exertions to free myself, and when she could cause pain to my chest.

This was so one-sided that I finally indicated that I conceded, and she released me.

“If your Ladyship is not yet fully satisfied I have an idea.” she said proving at the same time that, even if she couldn't read writing, she could read my thoughts.

She made me sit down, with my legs open and she did likewise opposite me. She wriggled closer, opening both skirts so that there was nothing between our legs, putting my right hand in the space and covering our hands with the material from the skirts. She put my hand between her legs and put hers between mine. She then put my left hand on one of her breasts and her hand on one of mine.

“First to quit”.

What happened next was pure torture, which could never have lasted very long. Sarah hurt me – I'm not too proud to admit it; but I hurt her as well. Being free to attack without restrictions provided a chance to experiment, to see just which grip caused the most pain, which way to pull the sex lips, what else was effective and, at the same time, to feel just what agony Sarah was capable of producing. I never said I was normal and I freely admit that this intimate anguish would probably not appeal to most people. I had thought my various experiences with Constance would have given me an advantage, but Sarah was good, very good! It did not take long before I said to her,

“Your trial period is over. Welcome to my service.”

She instantly stopped pinching and plunged two of her long fingers deep within me and began to agitate them with force. It took me a while to react, and also to realise that her hand was no longer torturing my breast, but amazingly producing agreeable sensations. Slowly it dawned on me that she was dictating the ultimate part of her test, obliging me to enter a wholly new domain. The sensations between my legs meant that I could not refuse and so I returned her initiative with interest.

I have no intention of writing down all that I felt I will merely indicate that clearly fighting had a sexual affect on my new maid. Despite my late start, Sarah's aroused state meant that my fingers succeeded in producing the desired affect on her before a sexual release coursed through my body.

There are surely alternative ways of testing a maid, but to my mind this, whilst being perhaps in-habitual, was highly efficacious. Sarah became my maid (and companion) and stayed that way for many years. She never shared my bed nor sought to displace my husband. If I feel the urge to write another day I will perhaps explain further. I should stop here with the first words spoken by my maid after being officially confirmed in my service just after her body exploded with sensual pleasure.

“Fuck you, my Lady”.