Emily Comes to Stay

Isobel and Emily were always the fastest of friends, but now that Emily is twenty she finds Emily too immature for her tastes; instead Isobel has become far more interested in the secret peephole to the male servant's quarters she has discovered.

Isobel's father, Lord Bassington, is unaware that Isobel's and Emily's friendship is on the verge of falling apart, and he arranges for Emily to come spend the summer months at Fancy-Named Hall so that the girls can have bonding time together.

Unbeknownst to Lord Bassington, Isobel and Emily are about to have an altogether grown-up bonding experience. And it all begins with Emily's discovery of Isobel's secret pleasure.

Note: This is a sexy historical tale of voyeurism and sexual discovery, and is Part 1 in the "Isobel's Fancy" series. Intended for 18+ audiences only.

Excerpt:

Emily’s hand slid a little further around Isobel, a little lower, and she was closer, her chest pressing against Isobel’s, her lips at Isobel’s ear. “Oh, please,” she whispered. “Just a quick look.”

Isobel considered. She would not be rid of Emily easily, at this point. They had explored this passage a couple of times when they were much younger, and she could tell Emily was too excited at the prospect of entering it again to be dissuaded. But if Emily found her secret--

They crept quietly along the passageway; it was perhaps forty feet in length, but it might have been a mile, it took Emily such time to pick her way along. Isobel kept bumping into Emily from behind, feeling slightly stupid as she did so.

Then--yes, she could hear it, the murmurs just to their left. Please, please, be quiet, don’t let her--

Emily’s face was suddenly beside hers. “Do you hear that?” she whispered.

“I’m sure it’s nothing. Just--”

Emily disappeared into the inky darkness, and--no, Isobel’s heart sank. She found the little cover on the grate, as though she had known it was there all the time. “I think it’s coming from--” she said, and then the cover came away and the light from the room below was lancing through the darkness of the passage.

“What on—” Emily breathed, stepping forward to peer through the narrow slit she had just revealed. Isobel launched herself forward to stop her when she caught sight of the room below.

The passage they were in was a couple of steps higher than the room below, owing to the relative positions of the main house and the servants’ wing. They were therefore afforded a view from just below the very top of the room’s wall, and could see the entirety of the room below.

There were two plain beds, with the rough, grey woolen blankets that all the servants were given tucked neatly under their plain cotton mattresses. A nightstand was placed beside each bed, and there was a cabinet with a basin, a mirror, and a couple of shelves at the far end of the room. The floor was covered with a circular rag rug. But on the rug—as Isobel both hoped and feared, when Emily uncovered the slit—three of the young gentlemen in the house livery were sprawled.

In fact, only two could be said to be in the house livery; the third was shirtless, and the hands of the other two were running up and down his body. He lay there, his head cradled in the lap of one of the other two, and his eyes were closed although clearly he was not asleep.

The other two, as if in response to some hidden signal, began to unbutton and remove their shirts in kind, pausing for only as little time as was necessary to complete this task.

Isobel’s heart leapt as someone grabbed her hand—she had utterly forgotten Emily, there only a few inches from her, as the scene down in the servants’ room was revealed. “What is this?” Emily whispered in her ear...