One Offs: Random Rambles of a Crazed Fool

Blackfin: One 🗡

Carriage after carriage rolls by. All plain without the glitz and glamor of the normal high society parties. Under the cover of a single lantern, these higher ups move into the darkened mansion to let loose and allow their carnal desires to flow without the watchful eyes of Lady Judgment or her assistants, Lady Law and Sir Law Enforcement.

In the pale light, a hand reaches into the shadows after a carriage door opens. Another gloved hand gently falls into the offered hand and squeezes as the valet takes the weight of the person exiting the carriage.

'Ahh, Sir Avalon is finally learning my tastes,' the gentleman comments as he emerges fully into the lantern light of the valet.

The young man stumbles back slightly because the weight leaning on him become slightly more than he can handle. Eventually, the older gentleman moves but does not release the young valet's hand.

'My boy,' he whispers to the valet as he lifts their joined hands, 'you are quite the peach.'

A companion of the older gentleman joins at his side while another keeps behind them, paying the hired coach his fair. The valet is slightly shaken. He knows what goes on beyond those doors where he leads the guests to, but his employer assured him that he would not have participate in.. the events.

The main doors open exposing the valet's employer, and the panic the valet feels begins to lessen.

'Lord Williams.. tsk, tsk,' Sir Avalon says with a small smile on his face, as he moves down the front steps, and shoots a knowing glance at the nervous valet. 'You are late as always, my friend.'

'You sent me a delicious, little..' Lord Williams sucks in a deep breath giving the valet's hand another squeeze. 'How could I not?'

Sir Avalon comes between a companion and the lord, grasping his friend's free arm. In a lowered voice, he bribes, 'I have more tender fruit inside for your taking, my lord.'

The lord's eyes widen with an excitement only seen with children and a new toy. 'But you must unhand my boy. You know I do not share what is claimed by me. Show him your collar, Lawrence.'

The valet nervously exposes the dog collar under his starched white shirt. It now makes sense why his employer would insist on all the valets to wear such an embarrassing accessory as he looks at the predatory lord.

'Ahh, this peach has been plucked. My apologies, my friend.' The valet shivers as the hungry eyes of the lord move over him once more before letting go of his hand, adding, 'You do have fine tastes. Such a pity you do not allow others to have a bite.'

Sir Avalon takes the lead, turning his old friend to lead him into the building himself. 'If I was to allow a sampling of my fruits, by the time they came back to me, they would be littered with bruises and be overly ripe. No one likes an imperfect peach.'

The lord bites into his bottom lip and sighs, agreeing with his friend's train of thought. 'Indeed. I would quite agree with this thought. Fruits are not easily enjoyed when they are overly ripe.'

Behind the doors of the mansion, the men are all out of sight and the valet is able to breathe a sigh of relief. Never in his life has he been so grateful to be called a dog. He makes his way back to his post, waiting for the next carriage to arrive.

-🗡-

Lord Williams pats his brow with a damp handkerchief. The fragrance of lavenders mingles with the sweat of the cowering boy whom he laid on top of the scrap of fabric as he took him. The boy wide eyed and breathing hard as the companions hold down the youth.