Date: Fri, 8 Apr 2005 00:15:45 EDT
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: Stiff Upper Lip

     [This rather odd story is meant to be humorous, though I think to
really get the joke, you have to watch a lot of "Masterpiece Theater" and
other British shows on PBS. Out of deference to my foreign readers, I am
not dropping the "h's" or any other letters with the speech of the Cockney
characters in this story. Please add the proper accents in your own mind
when they talk, two stuffy aristocrats dealing with two burly working-class
sorts in Edwardian England.]

			      STIFF UPPER LIP
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     "Care for a spot more tea?" Cecil asked.
     "Thank you." Evelyn said.
     Cecil poured him a cup and said, "Crumpet?"
     "Quite." Evelyn agreed, lifting the tea to his lips the way he'd been
taught at Eton. Both young men were the flower of British aristocracy of
1910, a credit to their class, and even though the two were now alone in
the house in London (not counting the servants, naturally), they attended
to all the details of dress and style required at tea-time as befit their
station in life.
     "Shall I ring for some more cakes?" Cecil asked his houseguest.
     "No, thank you." Evelyn said as he carefully buttered the
crumpet. "One mustn't overdo things in this hot weather, you know."
     "Quite." Cecil agreed, taking a crumpet for himself and adjusting his
monocle. It was something of an affectation, but one had to keep up
appearances and the monocle was at least more dignified than a pair of
spectacles. Dashed bother, spectacles, better to use the monocle. He
carefully touched his brown, oil-slicked hair to be sure it was still in
place and turned his attentions to his tea and his blond-haired
companion. "Shall we travel to the country house this weekend?" he
suggested. "We can have some friends over and get up a game or two of
cricket."
     "That sounds lovely." Evelyn said amiably. "Not that you won't trounce
the lot of us as always."
     Cecil smiled and didn't deny it.
     "Oh, I say, what is that?" Evelyn said, a slight frown permitting
itself on his otherwise placid features.
     "Sounds like something is amiss downstairs." Cecil agreed. "Let the
staff attend to it, that's what they're for."
     "Quite right."
     They were enjoying their tea when the door to the drawing room burst
open and two rather rough characters appeared.
     "There you are." one of them said.
     "Here, now, Frederick, what is this?" Cecil asked of the butler who
followed the two ruffians into the room.
     "I'm so very sorry, sir." Frederick said. "But these gentlemen insist
on speaking to you right now. They're two of your gardeners, sir."
     "That's right, we are, mate." The larger of the two men said, his
black beard was a mussed arrogance on his sun-burnt face.
     "That will be all right." Cecil said to Frederick. "You may go. I'll
attend to these two."
     "Right you will." the man said. "Me and Fellowes, we've worked for you
for three weeks and never seen a copper of our wages, we haven't."
     "Well, I'm sorry," Cecil said of his mother. "But Lady Covington is
away on the Continent right now and these things happen. I'm sure she'll
tend to this as soon as she returns."
     "And when will that be?" the bearded man insisted.
     "Well, really, I'm not sure." Cecil admitted. "Dashed bother and all
that, but you'll just have to wait until she returns. Until then, your room
and meals will be provided and you won't want for any necessities."
     "A man needs more than a bunk and some bread to do a days' work." the
bearded man declared strongly.
     "You tell him, Brunton." Fellowes told his companion. Fellowes was
shorter, stouter and somewhat older than Brunton, with red hair that spoke
of Welsh ancestry and a ruddy complexion. "We want our wages, and we want
it now."
     "Without our wages, we can't even go down to the pub for a pint of
stout." complained Brunton. "So just hand it over and we'll be on our way,
if you please."
     "Really, now." Evelyn came to his friend's defense in the face of
these two blackguards.
     "This is no way for members of your class to behave in the presence of
your superiors. Now, nip off, you two and let us enjoy our tea and
crumpets."
     Brunton said. "I tell you that I want at least some of my wages out of
you two and I want it now. Got a girl who needs my attentions down at the
pub and I'm not going in with me hat in me hand and have to beg for me
drinks on the cuff."
     "Just ignore him, Evelyn." Cecil suggested. "They'll have to wait
until Mother returns from the Continent and that's all there is to it."
     "I think you're right." Evelyn said. "We'll just have our tea and let
them storm all they wish, and then they'll go away."
     The two settled firmly in their seats and concentrated on their tea.
     Brunton and Fellowes seemed at a loss for a time, but then Brunton
said, "Well, then, if we can't have our wages, we can have what there is,
eh?"
     "And what do we have other than the back of the hand?" Fellowes asked.
     "We have two fine young gentlemen." Brunton said. "Be a shame to waste
all this energy with a pump-the-willy in the loo."
     "Hmph!" Cecil blustered at the boorishness. "Care for some sugar in
your tea?" he offered Evelyn to cover up the noise.
     "Perhaps another lump." Evelyn said, ignoring the big, black, hairy
man who was hitching at his lower clothing nearby. Cecil dropped in the
lump of sugar with the silver tongs.
     "Let's just stir this for you." Brunton said abruptly. He took the
teacup in his hand and held it down to his crotch, dipped his dong in it
and sloshed the huge prick back and forth a time or two. "There you are,
sir, a proper tea service you have." he said as his dick dripped with the
tea.
     "Oh, I say!" protested Evelyn.
     "Now, now, drink it up." Brunton said. When Evelyn hesitated, Brunton
grabbed the teacup up again and with the other hand he grasped Evelyn by
the back of his neck and held him steady while he poured the tea into
Evelyn's mouth. Evelyn choked and swallowed while the two ruffians laughed
heartily.
     "Now that was uncalled for." Cecil said sternly. Wouldn't do to act
undignified, no matter what the circumstances. That was what they drilled
into you in the schools of England. Dignity first, always.
     "I insist upon an apology, sir." Evelyn said huffily.
     "An apology?" Brunton said. "You want an apology, you need to talk to
Johnson."
     "Who's Johnson?" Evelyn said, surprised.
     "Down here!" Brunton grabbed Evelyn's shoulder and pushed him down to
his knees, the chair of the table skittering away over the waxed
floor. "Here's my Johnson, why don't you get better acquainted?" Brunton's
"Johnson" was arcing its head upwards at Evelyn, like a questing dog
searching for a scent, and from the mouth of the glans a long dollop of
drool reached down on it syrupy string for the floor.
     "Here now...." started Evelyn as he peered at the huge organ regarding
him. And when he said the word now, his lips still pursed in the "ow" part
of the word, Brunton shoved the dog-like pud at his mouth and the glans
caught those pursed lips and pried them apart and dove in deeper.
     "Glmph!" Evelyn said.
     "That's my boy." Brunton said as he grasped Evelyn's ears like the
handles of a jug of liquor. He thrust his cock brutally in and out of the
hapless aristocrat, the prick making a liquid shlorping sound.
     "Oh, I say, Evelyn, are you all right?" Cecil asked, concerned.
     Brunton released him and Evelyn got to his feet, found a napkin and
daintily patted his lips dry. "I'll be all right. Rather a bit of a
hooligan you have for a gardener, I must say." he said.
     "Good show." approved Cecil.
     "Oh, we're just getting started." Brunton said as he again grabbed
poor Evelyn and began to undo his trousers from behind.
     "Really, now!" Evelyn said. "We can't have this sort of business
about."
     Brunton thrust him down over the table as he pulled down the trousers
and shorts. "Just making sure our lordship's guest is shown all our
hospitality." he said.
     "Well, then, that's all very well and good, but you really...Oh, I
say!" was his only comment as Brunton shoved his pud between his asscheeks
and rammed it in, hard!
     As Brunton began to thrust and cram his rod up Evelyn's ass, he
protested in all proper decorum. "Really, sir, I must insist that you cease
and desist this behavior at once. It isn't the least proper."
     "I shall report this activity to my Mother, you may be assured of
that." Cecil added. "Fellowes, I say, can't you restrain your friend from
this sort of thing?"
     Fellowes had been watching all of this with a big grin. "Can't do
that, mate." he said. "Brunton gets his steam up and there's no stopping
him."
     "Then whatever shall we do? Poor Evelyn is being brutally misused
here."
     "Just have to let him be, that's all, sir." Fellowes said. "He'll be
done in a minute."
     Evelyn was holding onto the edge of the table while he was plowed by
the burly gardener, who was making hard thrusts into him, rocking his body
back and forth.
     "In fact," Fellowes continued. "I feel a bit of the goat rising my own
self. Seems a shame you're just sitting here while your guest has to stand
all the chaff." And his hands reached to spread his baggy trousers, found
the fly and unfastened it.
     "Then what do you recommend?" Cecil asked. "Suggest he leave off
Evelyn and take me instead?" He wasn't looking at Fellowes, his eyes were
concentrated on the face of his friend, which had taken on a soft sort of
look with eyes closed and head uplifted.
     "Not quite that." Fellowes said. And he slapped Cecil's cheek with his
prick, and Cecil startled at the meaty, soft slap. "I was thinking you and
I should join in, that's all."
     "Here now, none of this!" Cecil protested, but it was no use,
Fellowes' cock was really beyond any taming at this point, it was engorged,
red and huge. He thrust it at Cecil and rather than let that slimy cockhead
smear his good clothes, he caught it in his mouth like Fellowes intended.
     "That's the stuff, mate." Fellowes said. "Now give it a little of the
to-and-fro. Ah, that's the way." Cecil was bobbing his head as
required. "Ah, damn, yeah."
     "I must insist that you refrain from vulgar comments here." Evelyn
said on behalf of his friends. "We are not in some pub by the docks, after
all."
     "Quite right, sir, my apologies. His lordship is just showing a good
deal of talent here, that's all."
     "Well...that's all right then! Oof!" Evelyn said as Brunton gave him
an extra hard thrust.
     "Told you these aristocrats are all a bunch of poufs when you get
their knickers down." Brunton told Fellowes. "Why don't you get yours down
and give him a bit of the Welsh revenge?"
     Fellowes took Brunton's advice, Cecil found the cock taken from him
with a moist shl-pop! and with resignation, he stood up and turned around
for the brutish fellow, held his arms aside with a sigh and resigned
himself to his fate.
     "Rather a bit of a sticky wicket, eh, what?" Evelyn commiserated with
his friend as Cecil bit his lip to keep from uttering a sound when Fellowes
began to shove that lumberous prong into his bum.
     "Shows what happens when one permits the lower classes a bit of
liberty." Cecil said quite strongly. He was holding his head still, but the
rest of his body rocked under the meaty slaps his buttocks were suffering
from the thrusts from Fellowes stocky body.
     "We should take steps to prevent this sort of thing in the future."
Evelyn said.
     "Quite right." Cecil said. "I shall write a most strenuous letter to
Parliament on the subject. We shall have a bill passed to prevent this sort
of nonsense."
     "Absolutely." Evelyn agreed. Their noses were practically touching
over the small table.
     "Rather a bother, what, being rammed up the bunghole like this."
     "Uh, uh, huh, grh, rhh, huh!" Brunton was grunting.
     "And that noise he makes, rather like a gorilla. He rather resembles a
gorilla, don't you think, Cecil?" Evelyn inquired.
     "I must agree." Cecil said.
     "Mh, mh, mh, mh, mh!" Fellowes was getting into his fucking of his
young master, small, eager sounds escaped his lips.
     "Better than mine, though." Cecil continued. "Mine sounds rather like
a pig at the feeding trough I heard once."
     "Yes, rather." Evelyn affirmed. "Brutish, rough behavior. Only to be
expected from the lower classes, after all."
     "I wonder how he's going to sound when he finishes up." Cecil
speculated. "I suspect he'll make a noise less like a gorilla and more like
a hyena."
     "We'll know soon, I expect." Evelyn judged. "This prick up my bum is
beginning to get dashed hot."
     "Hur, hur, hur, huh, GUH, GUH-NNNKKK!!!" Brunton gasped as he shot his
heavy load into Evelyn's violated anus.
     "Just what I told you." Cecil crowed his victory. Then he watched
Evelyn's face, the tenderness in it. Good heavens, he thought to himself
and looked down at Evelyn's cock in time to see the slim white dong begin
to jet its juice. Right into his teacup! Spoiling a perfectly good cup of
tea, really, the degradations one assumes when one associates with the
lower classes, he thought to himself.
     Fellowes began to moan. "Mmh, mmmh, mmh, mh-mh-mh-mh-mh, mh-MHHHH!"
     Just like a pig to the very end, Cecil sighed as Fellowes thrashed
around on top of him. He reached down and gently jerked his prick, which
was on the verge, and managed to keep his own sounds of pleasure down to a
discrete and proper low hum.
     Brunton was sweating and heaving still, his big, brawny hands moving
over Evelyn's chest, mauling and mis-shaping his vest and shirt, pulling it
all awry, while his red face was bright beet-color and he drew his breath
in with ragged, loud, bestial gasps.
     Cecil felt Fellowes' cheek touch his back while he moaned his residual
happiness with his head resting on Cecil's back.
     "Well, now, I trust this is all over with." Cecil said firmly to
Brunton.
     "Done for now, I expect." Brunton said as he hauled back and stuffed
his shirt in big wads back into his trousers and pulled them together and
fastened them once again.
     "As I said, my mother is the one who is to pay you, and she will make
up the arrears when she returns. Until then, I expect you to wait along
with the rest of the staff. These things happen in a big house, you can
take such things as you need from the stores to tide you over. Speak with
Frederick about that.
     "We will, sir." Brunton said. "I expect we can make do with a bottle
or two from your cellar instead of a pint at the pub."
     "I'm sure that will be acceptable, but let Fredericks pick the
bottles."
     "Of course, that still doesn't get us any of the slap-and-tickle."
Fellowes pointed out.
     "Oh, we'll make do." Brunton said. "We'll come back same time tomorrow
and take up where we left off with these two, I expect."
     Evelyn looked at his friend, and then followed his lead with an
impassive face while the two ruffians chuckled and left the room. "They're
coming back tomorrow at this time?" he said to Cecil.
     "Yes, I rather expect they will." Cecil said.
     "Just at tea time." Evelyn said, aghast. "But couldn't they come
earlier or later?"
     "Now, now, we'll manage well enough until Mother returns." Cecil said.
     "When will she be returning."
     "She usually doesn't return until the end of summer." Cecil said.
     "But that's over six weeks away."
     "We shall make do." Cecil said. "Be a credit to our station and all
that."
     "Yes, I suppose we shall." Evelyn said.
     "One must make sacrifices for society." Cecil said. "Stiff upper lip
and all that."
     "Yes." Evelyn said. "But I must admit this mauling of my nether
regions is going to put a real crimp in my cricket game."
     "Pity."
     "Quite."

				  THE END
		   Comments, complaints or suggestions?
		  E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM