Date: Sun, 1 Feb 2009 15:32:06 -0800 (PST)
From: John Venn <johnvenn1945@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: Lord Batchelor's Surprise

Disclaimer:

This story contains scenes of a sexual nature between a man and boy. If
this is not to your taste, or is illegal where you live, or you find it
morally offensive, then read no further and leave now!!

The story is purely imaginary and bears no resemblance to any living person
or persons as far as I know, much as you or I might wish!


Other stories of mine may be found within the `Nifty Prolific Authors' section.

Comments are always welcome at johnvenn1945@yahoo.co.uk
*************************************************************************

Lord Batchelor's Surprise
by
Alexander

A brief tale of Victorian London

Lord Batchelor had just settled down to read the day's issue of 'The Times'
when he was disturbed by a gentle rap at the withdrawing room door and the
appearance of his housekeeper, the ancient Miss Primm.

Primm had been his father's housekeeper, and Charles Batchelor's nanny
before that: she had been inherited along with the estate and his father's
wealth when he died. No one knew or cared whether she had a first name or
not - certainly, Albert, Lord Batchelor had never heard it and he had known
her all his life.

"Excuse me sir," Primm said in her usual funereal voice, "We have been
distributed by a small male child."

Albert put the newspaper down with a sigh and tried to interpret what Primm
had said. Primm had been born in Wales and only spoke Welsh until she
entered service and even after a lifetime spent in the employ of Lord
Batchelor senior hadn't quite got a grasp of English.  Guessing correctly
he learned that there was a small boy in the house somewhere who had
disturbed Primm's tranquillity.

"And who is he?" Albert asked, "Or don't we know?"

"I have envisioned the child before, sir. He is the son of your brother,
the Lord Biggun."

"Oh, why didn't you say so? Charles, you mean?"

"That is he, sir. I believe he is reconstituted by that name."

"Bring him in then. I wonder what he wants at this time of day?"

A few minutes later, Primm re-entered the room accompanied by young
Charles, the 12-year- old son of his brother Arthur.

"What ho young Charles!" Albert said cheerfully. "What brings you to
Belgrave Square at this time of day?"

Charles stood smiling gently at his uncle and said that he and his father
had been in London for the day and were about to go to Lord Biggun's club
for dinner when a wheel of their carriage had broken and that unfortunately
it couldn't be repaired until the morrow. His father had to meet some
business acquaintances at the club and couldn't miss the appointment so
Charles had been dispatched to his uncles to spend the night.

"I hope I am not inconveniencing you, sir," the boy said. "But I have
nowhere else to stay for the night and my father said that he would be most
pleased if you would accommodate me."

"Of course, of course," Albert said. "It will be a pleasure. Let me take a
good look at you, it must be an age since I saw you last. My how you've
grown."

What he saw was a slim, Raven-haired boy who was quite attractive in a
youthful way, but a little nervous at having to upset whatever plans Albert
may have had for the evening.

"You are more than welcome. Have you eaten yet? I don't suppose you have,
what with your mishap. Would you like some cold mutton and chops? I have
already dined, but I'm sure Primm can find some victuals for you. And maybe
a small glass of port wine?"

"That would be most kind of you. I haven't had a morsel since lunch and I
am rather famished. A glass of watered port wine would also be most
welcome. My father encourages me to partake of a little at dinner."

Primm was summoned and informed of the situation. As she and her master
were the only occupants of the house, it was up to her to take charge of
the child, Lord Batchelor being completely ignorant in the ways of
children. She knew that Lord Biggun was landed gentry, a country farmer
with a large estate, and being from a stout Welsh farming community herself
had a very good idea of the heathen way in which country folk behaved when
their primal urges took them. He would need the ministrations of an honest,
God-fearing woman, she thought.

After a sufficient repast had been taken, Primm fussed over the boy like a
mother hen, much to Lord Batchelor's relief and amusement.

"Primm was my nanny when I was your age and dressed in knickerbockers and
linen shirts.  You may look upon this as your home and Primm as your
surrogate mother until you leave when the unfortunate damage to your
conveyance has been attended to," he explained.  "Yes, sir," the child
replied politely. "Does that mean she will be joining us?"

"Join us, Charles? Join us in what?"

"Why sir, join us in the bed."

Lord Batchelor almost had an attack of apoplexy when he heard this and
broke out in a fit of coughing. Primm however, was made of sterner stuff
and took it in her stride, expecting no better from ignorant country folk.

"Bless me, my Lord, the child is manured to a life of shame, that's the
fact of it sir, that he can't conceive no other, he being country-bred."

Taking a tender glance at Charles, she went on, "There is no necessity for
you to sleep with anyone except yourself and the Good Lord your Saviour, in
peace and innocence."

"Ahem!" Lord Batchelor interrupted, relieved that the untoward and
unexpected conversation was over, "May I suggest that we bathe the boy and
put him to bed?"

Nodding a reply, Primm bustled off to prepare the tub.

Unaccustomed as he was to boys, Batchelor indicated a bookshelf, invited
Charles to select one to read until his bath was ready and returned to his
newspaper. The next thing he knew was when Primm returned and uttered a
loud "Bless me!" from the door.

Dropping the corner of his newspaper to see what was amiss, he saw Primm
with her hands covering her mouth in horror. Intrigued as to what could
cause such consternation, he lowered the rest of the paper into his lap to
observe a completely denuded boy in front of him.

"What are you doing?" he said, bemused and not a little shocked.

"Why sir, my father and his maid inspect me before and after my bath to
ensure that I have cleaned all the parts of me to their satisfaction and
that I haven't omitted to cleanse myself adequately."

Before he could frame a suitable response, Primm broke in and said, "Lord
love the poor child, look at the state of him, he is so innocent in his
repose. I must wash him and give him some bed arraignments."

"You're right," Primm. "Please provide him with a night-shirt as soon as
you can."

"I shall return percipiently."

Thankfully, Batchelor returned to the interesting editorial on the
lifestyle of Queen Victoria and promptly forgot about the child.

The following morning, Primm knocked at Lord Batchelor's bedchamber door
and hurried in without waiting for a reply, obviously ill at ease with
something.

"Sir, the boy is nowhere to be seen ... ooh!"

She started in surprise at the sight of Charles head nestling on the
sleeping Batchelor's bare chest.

"Sir!, sir!" she cried in a state of extreme agitation.

"Oh, Good Morning, Primm ........"

"Bless me! I never saw such license! Lord Batchelor, sir, I can not credit
the account of my eyes. That you should stand exposed as an amuser of
children, nought but a corrector of youth, a pedestal! A vile producer, a
libertarian! That I should gaze upon such naked immortality, such a
disillusion!"  "Calm yourself Primm. The child must have crept in at night
when I was asleep. I had not the first idea that he was with me until now."

"Sir! I beg your pardon. But the sight of him, I could only jump to one
confusion."

Batchelor jumped to one too.

"Leave us for a few moments will you Primm, I will ring when I need you. I
must have a few words with Charles."

"Shall you try to arouse him, sit? I think he should be aroused straight
away."

Even Lord Batchelor had difficulty in deciphering precisely what Primm had
intended to say, but satisfied himself by informing her that he would send
the boy down shortly.

"I will draw him some water for his absolutions," she said as she exited.

By this time, Charles had awakened and was gazing at his uncle, smiling
innocently and naively.

"Good morning, Uncle Albert. I trust you passed a pleasant night?"

"Yes, thank you, Charles. But may I ask why I find you in my bed when I
awake, and without your night-shirt unless I am mistaken?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir. I couldn't find it in myself to sleep last night. I
have never slept alone before, and I never wear night attire as my father
says they are too restricting and unhealthy."

"Why who else sleeps in your bed room if you don't sleep alone?"

"No one, sir. I sleep with my father in his room, and his maid oft-times. I
believe my own room is used to accommodate the younger house guests when we
have them."

Batchelor absorbed this information gradually. He remembered the japes he
and his brother sometimes got up to when they were young and that his
brother had a certain propensity for attracting the attentions of youthful
farm hands and villagers. He was older than himself and Albert had never
been asked to participate in the games they played in the barn and other
secluded places on the estate, but had fair notion as to what they were
about.

Simultaneous with these thoughts, he also realised that he was damp in his
nether regions and slipped a hand down to confirm his suspicion. Bringing
his soiled fingers to his nose, he knew instantly what he'd found, much to
his embarrassment. Glancing at Charles, he saw he had a devilish grin about
his face.

"I hope you don't mind sir, but as I was awake early and I noticed that you
hadn't emptied your sacs, I did it for you."

"Why? Why did you wish to do that?"

"My father says that they must be emptied at least once every day elsewise
they may turn blue with the overfilling of semen. In addition, at my age,
the more frequently they are attended to, the fewer lewd and lascivious
thoughts I will have. But to be frank about it, I find that doesn't always
meet with success."

"Oh," was all he could reply.

"I help him to stimulate his membrum virilis until the sacs empty
themselves and he does it to me, but I can't produce but very little
yet. He says it won't be long though before I can make much more of it and
we must keep trying to make it happen quickly. I can't wait until then.
The feelings, I understand, are very satisfying."

"Err, yes they are," Batchelor said, "Or at least I comprehend they are."

"In the temporary absence of my father, would you like to try for me sir?
Look, it is ready for you."

With that, Charles lifted the bed covers and displayed his very erect
member waiting for someone to attend to it.

"Oh, I say!" was all Albert could declaim.

"If you please," Charles said quietly. "It is very ready for you, and
unless you give me some attention soon, I shall have to do it myself and I
shan't enjoy that as much."

Without waiting for a reply, Charles grasped his uncles hand, placed it on
his penis and showed him what to do. With a sigh, Batchelor performed the
duty Charles had begged of him, partly because the boy appeared to be in
some distress due to this lack of expected attention, and partly because he
found he rather liked it once he'd started..

Accompanied by the ever-increasing moans of satisfaction from the child,
Batchelor continued the stimulation until Charles, with a loud groan and
shudder, emitted quite a respectable amount of seed onto his chest and
navel.

"Thank you, sir. That was most enjoyable. You do it differently to my
father or the maid, and I think you have made me produce rather more than I
usually do. Take a look.."

Once again, the bed covers were lifted and Batchelor was invited to examine
the results of his labours. The boy was correct - there was certainly more
fluid there than he could make at the same age.

"I do believe that it the most I have ever produced," Charles said
happily. "And the texture is different too. I must tell my father that I
think I may be able to fill my sacs properly now."

Lord Batchelor was in no fit state to process this information, his own
member having ejaculated for the second time that morning, simultaneously
with Charles.

"Did Master Charles give you satisfaction with his reasons?" Primm asked as
they were breaking their fast some time later.

"Oh, yes, thank you," the master replied. "Most satisfactory. Apparently he
suffers from bad dreams, especially in houses he is unaccustomed to, and he
felt in need of some solace and comfort from a member of his family."

Primm nodded in agreement, and added, "His behaviour is understandably
erotic in a strange house. I trust you were able to attend to his needs?"

"Indeed I did, and I believe I made him somewhat happier is so doing,"
Charles smiled at Primm. "In fact I may ask his father, my brother, if he
can stay for another day or two if that is acceptable: I think the change
may be beneficial for both Charles and I."

Primm nodded in agreement, and turning to face Master Charles said, "I
apprehend now that last night when I said that you sleep with 'Your Good
Lord and Saviour', you apprehended I meant Lord Batchelor, but I meant He
who dwells above. I would be most incontinent for you to stay as long as
you wish. A truckle bed will be placed in the master's room for you to be
satisfied on if he agrees."

"That is an excellent idea, Primm," Lord Batchelor said. "The situation
will be rather fluid I believe for a few days. I will communicate with my
brother and appraise him of the situation instantly.


"Oh, I must deport myself from here," Primm suddenly said, "The sacks need
emptying."

Charles and Albert looked at one another with concern until Primm added,
"The flour has just been delivered and needs transforming into the store
room.


The End