The streets of London had fallen quiet. Only the occasional carriage passed by, but the only other sound besides that was the sharp chirping of the crickets. The moon peeked out of the usual London clouds covering the sky, illuminating his office for only a moment before slipping away once more.
I stood still at the door, ready to serve Sir Crawford Starrick at any moment he pleased. I was the servant attending him on late nights like these, of which there have been many recently. Philip was Crawford’s main servant during the day, but when he was allowed to retire at night I took his place.
When his associates aren’t bothering him, he was either playing the piano, cleaning his knife and pistol, or writing letters. He wasn’t doing any of those things tonight, however.
Sitting in his white collared shirt and suspenders, Crawford was simply reading a book under the flickering flame of a candle. It was silent for a long time.
It was times like these I had really been able to see the master for who he really was. A man who enjoyed the fine arts, who worked hard and did everything he could to keep London from falling from these… Frye twins I often heard him talking about. A strong, capable leader, ruthless in his dealings, yet able to have an appreciation for the finer things in life, like tea and fashion. That purple scarf was his favorite, after all.
As I had been spending more nights attending to the master, I began to look at him… differently. I noticed his hands, how they moved so gracefully as he cleaned his pistol or motioned for me to take away his tea. I noticed his eyes, burning with passion and emotion despite how he spoke so calmly when anything had gotten out of hand. His voice sent chills down my spine… I found myself enjoying his verbal commands more as the time passed. I noticed his body, tight with muscle yet hidden under such fine clothing.
But someone like me, a mere servant, could only dream of spending a night with such an important man like Crawford. It was to forever be a fantasy of mine, but that was well and good as long as I was able to continue serving him.
I snapped back to the real world from my dreaming when I heard his voice. I immediately stood up straight and nodded.
“Yes sir, sorry sir,” I quickly said, looking at him and waiting for direction.
Crawford was still sitting in his seat, but he held the closed book in his hand. His eyes bore at me with such intensity that I needed to take a breath.
He stood up, returning to his bookshelf and placing the book back in its place. The glint of metal caught my eye, and I noticed he was holding his pistol in his other hand, its gold and silver patterns catching the moonlight for only a moment; which was all that was needed to catch my attention.
After putting his book away, Crawford began to walk towards me. The heavy sound of his boots against the wooden floor seemed to echo in the room. In his hands, he ran his fingers over the patterns of his revolver, stopping a meter away from me.
“You were dreaming there,” he said, eyes raising from his pistol for only a moment to meet mine before looking back down at it. “What were you dreaming about?”
“I-I’m very sorry, sir,” I said, looking down at the floor. Of course I didn’t want to tell him that I was thinking about him, that would be the biggest embarrassment of my life.
When I didn’t say anything more, I saw his feet approach me. I saw his hand holding the pistol, how it raised and how I felt its hard barrel suddenly press against my chest. But instead of threatening me, it moved. Trailing against my clothing, it passed my chest and came to my neck and throat. Its cold metal sent a shiver down my body. It continued to move until it was under my chin, lifting it up so I was eye to eye with Crawford. His gaze seemed to stare into my soul, and I couldn’t move. I didn’t dare break his gaze.
“Tell me,” he said again, in the same low voice as before, but a little slower this time. “What were you dreaming about?”
“It’s…” I started, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks.
“Do not hesitate,” he said. I could feel the gun slowly begin to turn under me. “I am simply… curious.” Those eyes… Those smoldering, dark, calculating eyes… I couldn’t look away, they were mesmerizing.
I was quiet for a moment. My face must have been as red as an apple by now.
“You,” I finally said in a much softer voice than I intended.
Crawford blinked, but I could make out no change in his emotions as he pulled the gun away from my chin and tucked it in his belt.
“Is that so?” He began to creep towards me. I began to step backward, but there wasn’t anywhere to go. My back quickly pressed against the wall as Crawford’s body pressed against mine. I gulped, but didn’t dare look away. What was happening?
“Tell me exactly what you were dreaming about. What about… me?” The way he drew out every word sent another shiver through my body. He raised one of his hands, tracing his thumb over my chin to coax me into speaking. Bloody hell, it couldn’t have worked better.
“...Everything,” I said breathlessly, leaning into his touch, eyes fluttering closed. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. My hands came up to wrap around his as my eyes opened again. “Your hands… How they would hold me and touch me… Your body, how deceivingly strong it is… Your voice, ordering me to do your biddings… Your eyes… Your eyes, how I can feel them on me, how you command me wordlessly with them, how they have so much passion and emotion for what you do… I want all of it… I want all of you. Serving you on nights like this, where it is just the two of us, drive my mind into wild, impure places.”
He didn’t interrupt me, and instead, listened. All the while his hand caressing my chin the other moving to grasp my hip. My body stiffened a little when I felt that other hand, but soon relaxed into it.
“What an imaginative mind…” he finally said, almost whispering it to me. “What about we… visit these impure places, hm?”
I could feel his warm breath against my neck as he lowered his head to it. His moustache tickled my skin as his soft lips began to nibble and bite at the skin. I leaned my head against the wall, reaching up with one hand to cover my mouth and stifle whatever noises were trying to escape.
Was this really happening? Was Crawford Starrick, ruthless businessman of London and my master, really kissing my neck? It was a dream I hoped never ended.
“Do not hold your voice back.” He reached up and pulled my hand away from my mouth, pinning it above my head. He took my other hand and pinned it there as well. I didn’t resist those strong hands… They were everything I had been longing to feel.
I tilted my head to one side to allow for more room. The warm kisses, the sucking, the occasional bite… the way his tongue ran against my neck… I couldn’t hold back. Soft moans and whimpers slipped through my lips as I melted under his touch. I could barely stand anymore.
He must have felt my body give way to him, because he wrapped his arm around my waist as I leaned onto him. Breathing heavily, I looked up at him, and he looked right back at me.
“Crawford, please…” I begged, grasping his shirt.
“That is not the proper way to address me,” he said, grabbing my chin.
“Sir…?” I asked, desperate for anything.
“You are to call me Master from now on, do you understand, my faithful servant?” he asked as his thumb began to trace over my lips.
“Yes, Master…” My lips parted slightly, and his thumb slid in. I sucked at it eagerly, running my tongue over it.
He let me do what I wanted for a moment before pulling his hand away and guiding me to his desk. He took a seat in his chair and roughly pulled me on top of him. As my legs straddled him, I wrapped my arms around his head and desperately began to kiss him. He reciprocated, but only for a moment before tugging my face away from his with my hair. His hand grasped my locks firmly from behind.
“As your Master, you will ask for permission before doing anything, understand?”
His hand slowly let go of my hair and he instead began to run his fingers through it.
“Can I kiss you, Master? Can I touch you?”
I cupped his face with my hands and leaned towards him, lips colliding passionately. I could feel his hands begin to explore my body, starting with the clothes that kept him from finding what he wanted. He stripped me rather roughly, throwing aside all garments and leaving me to show him my body… which was his now.
“Master Crawford Starrick…” I said, beginning to grind my hips against him. I could feel the appendage in his trousers rubbing against my thighs. I could hear his breathing slowly grow heavier. I could see the lust in his eyes growing. Whether it was for me or what was about to come, I didn’t care. All I knew is that he was looking at me. And that was all I wanted.
“I want you to use me…” I whispered, taking one of his hands and placing it on my chest. “I want you to use me until you’re satisfied… I want to be your personal plaything, someone you come to at the end of the day to relieve all of your stress. But I want to be more than that, too… I also want to be the one you talk to when you’re afraid, I want to be the one you hold at night, I want… I want you to want me. Can I ask that of you, Master Crawford Starrick?”
It was the first time I had seen an expression like that. His eyes widened a little in surprise at my sudden confession, but they soon became the dark, smoldering ones I came to fall in love with. The corners of his lips turned into that of an amused grin as he pushed my hips down harder onto his protruding hardness, encouraging me to move faster.
“You will follow my every order,” he said. “You will become mine, and only mine. You will only have eyes for me. I can do with you as I see fit. Understand, little servant? And in turn, I will do everything you have asked of me.”
“Yes, Master. Yes…” I said, leaning down to kiss him deeply once more. My mind might have been clouded by lust, but I felt an overwhelming happiness inside me… Or was that something else?
“Now,” Crawford said, standing up and pointing at the desk. “Bend over.”