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Sir Brittney of Spears

Carmichael/Black

1821

Humphrey carefully lined the linen cloths on the table in preparation for their use. After one last glance over the immaculate cut cloth of the blue superfine jacket and the near blinding white of a pristine shirt, Humphrey allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction.

His master, Sir Brittney of Spears, would indeed outshine any of the dandies who accompanied Sir Brittney on his night of adventure. The man was of course, a rake, the rakiest of the rakes who out raked even Prinny. A moue of distaste wrinkled Humphrey’s brow with the thought of the Prince of Wales.

"Humphrey!" An outrageous shriek echoed down the hall. One moment later, the bedchamber door banged back against the wall. Sir Brittney, in all his silk embroidered finery, swept into the room, tossing his tricorne hat onto the immaculate four-poster, carved oak bed. "I just can't believe him! I just can't!"

“Your Grace.” In a mild tone, Humphrey addressed as his master as he approached. When Brittney stopped pacing, Humphrey helped the nobleman out of the jacket. “What has upset you so this time?”

Brittney huffed and puffed. "Sir Loin, you know, of Beef. Can you believe he had the nerve to outbid me on a prized stallion?"

After carefully setting aside the jacket, Humphrey divested Sir Brittney of his cravat and shirt, then dropped to his knees to unfasten Brittney’s pants. “Will your Grace require relief after such a horrible setback?”

The door flew opened and without so much as a knock, Amelia entered the room. “Brother, I need the carriage to go down to the bank. I really must take out some funds from my account at Breckridge and Trust. Do be a dear and wait for me to return. I need you to escort me to Almack’s tonight.”

Brittney sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. With one hand on Humphrey's head, he said, "I had plans, Amelia. But...if I must."

Never one to be convinced otherwise, Amelia pinned a gimlet stare on Brittney. “Yes, you must. You know Sir Walter Raleigh expects to see both of us there. You cannot afford to disappoint such an influential man.” She paused, then added pointedly, “Nor his daughter.”

Well trained, Humphrey kept his eyes on his master’s waiting cock and remained silent through the exchange between him and his sister.

"Yes, yes." Brittney waved her off. "Go find your lady-in-waiting. I have a need." Without waiting to see if she left, he turned his attentions back to his valet. "As you were, my good man."

“Why must we make a fuss over such a man; I do not know. Even if he did stop the Scots from invading our border.” Disgusted, Amelia flounced out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

With no further prompting, Humphrey planted his hands firmly on his master’s hips and opened his mouth. The nudge of Brittney’s cock slid into his mouth, and his lips closed around it, hungrily suckling for all he was worth. An excellent valet such as himself knew full well his worth to his master, and his duty.

Brittney groaned and moaned, head falling back as he kneaded his valet's curly black hair. "Oh, yeah...suck that cock..."

Tightening his mouth, Humphrey gave his master exactly what he asked for. One hand aided the movement of Brittney’s hips as the other slid to Brittney’s balls, massaging the sacs.

When the door opened again, a man stepped inside the room, then quietly walked over to the fireplace mantle, leaning against it. His white powdered hair was tied back with a pink ribbon that matched the shade of his velvet jacket. Waterfalls of lace graced his throat and the cuffs of his sleeves. He opened his snuff box and took a pinch as he waited for Brittney to notice him.

"One moment, Your Highness," Brittney grunted. "Fuck, yeah. Oh, God..." He thrust into Humphrey's mouth, shooting his load of thick, creamy, sweet-as-honey cum into the waiting throat.

Without a flinch or a gag Humphrey swallowed him down, then proceeded to lick off all traces. When he stood, he reached for Brittney’s robe, and held it open for his master. Breathless, Brittney turned and slipped his arms into the robe, drawing it around him. Then he faced his visitor.

"My darling Sir Teasers," he cooed, holding out a hand. "How have you been? How are the Pricks treating you in your new mansion?"

Teasers smiled broadly and tugged Brittney close. "They are doing well. My new wallpaper--you really must see it."

"Oh, do tell, do tell." Brittney waved toward one of the luxurious Queen Anne chairs. "Please, have a seat. What would you like to drink?"

Laying his gloves on the Hepplewhite table, Teasers sat in the chair. “A tankard of ale if you will. I had Gucci design the new wallpaper, and I am most impressed. Do say you’ll come later today. Prinny and Brummel will be attending. Oscar Wilde might be there, but I won't count on it. It’s sure to be a dead bore. I’ll need your company to liven me up, dear boy.”

Humphrey attended to getting the men their ale as the two conversed. When he’d filled the tankards, he carried them on a silver tray, then stopped in front of both men with a bow.

"Mmm...I promised Amelia I would escort her to Almack's. Oh, how do I get out of it?" Brittney lamented. "Thank you, my good man. You may go now."

Humphrey bowed once again and decorously left the room.

“The Duke of Winsor will be there as well. Naughty boy. And I’m fairly sure the royal brothers are attending too. I suppose we can take Amelia to that hideous place, then duck out when the old behemoths aren’t looking.”

"Oh. The Nelson twins?" Brittney moaned. "Oh, to run my fingers... Yes, yes, we must."

“You will have to work fast. Last I heard Graveward is getting dem close to wrapping Gunnar around her finger.” With an elegant flourish, Teasers gestured toward the door before picking up his tankard. “And I’ve also heard the Countess of Newberry was seen leaving Matthew’s house very early in the morning. You do need to go about this more quickly, old man.”

Brittney grumbled and sank into his chair. "What does an old bat like the Countess want with such a nubile young troubadour?"

“Must I teach you the bird and bees? The same dem thing your sister wants.” Teasers paused, giving him a lascivious wink. “I could be induced to aid your cause. If you wish me to.”

Brittney pondered the offer. "Did you see the latest publication from de Sade? Do you think maybe the brothers would be willing to perform--with one another? For our pleasure, of course."

Teasers rubbed his hands together with glee. “Most excellent suggestion, my good man. You’re even naughtier than Winsor. Now do get dressed so we can set all of this into motion.”

"Right away." Brittney tossed back his drink and leapt to his feet. He threw off his robe and dressed hurriedly, tugging on his pants and then his blouse, fluffing the sleeves and collar. After slipping on his coat and his boots, he turned to Teasers, arms spread wide. "What do you think?"

“Smashing, old man. Absolutely smashing. I can see at least one twin happily riding you.” He gestured toward the bow and bowed, “After you, Brittney.”

In much better spirits, Brittney sashayed out the door, whistling a jaunty Vaudeville tune.

***

"Honestly, Britt," Amelia whispered behind her lace fan. "What would the neighbors think if they... Oh, look how wide..."

Brittney planted a kiss on his sister's cheek, then swept her inside. "Oh, do loosen up, old girl. Come. Let me introduce you to the twins."

Once in the ballroom, they were stopped by Brittney’s oldest friend. “I say, old man, should you bring such a gently reared young lady as your sister here? What if it gets out?”

Slapping Toulouse Latrec heartily on the back, Brittney muttered, “Pish tosh, none will speak of it.”

“It is better than Almack’s, I must say.” Teasers added his own cents on the matter.

"Oh!" Amelia's eyes widened. "Oh, yes. Yes, I must agree."

Brittney took his sister's arm, then asked Toulouse, "Where are the twins?"

“Holding court in the conservatory. Where else. They’ve yet to be convinced to grace any of us with a dance or two.” Toulouse pouted with the pronouncement.

Checking out some of the younger set through his eye piece, Teaser made an approving sound. “I see you raided Madame Sellers’ stable for us.”

There were already several young women comfortably ensconced in some of the gentlemen’s laps, making themselves right at home. The wine and laughter flowed freely, adding to the gaiety.

Oh, yes," Toulouse said as he led them through the ballroom, toward the conservatory. "She was quite pleased to show off her latest crop of young men. Did you know--she inquired as to Matthew's availability? A scandal, surely. Lord Nelson would have been beside himself to know his son was dallying with the likes of the Madame."

"Did she really?" Brittney gasped. "My word."

Teaser listened avidly, keen on every word. “Your gossip never disappoints, Toulouse. So has Matthew agreed? I‘d be most interested to know.”

When a gentleman interrupted their walk, inquiring after Amelia, she released her brother’s arm to speak with him. Brittney let her go, turning his attentions back to Toulouse's sordid tale.

"He hasn't said no," Toulouse whispered.

Brittney shook his head and clicked his tongue. "I daresay he's considering it then."

“You’ve given my friend hope.” Teasers laughed good naturedly at the lustful look creeping over Brittney’s face.

When they entered the conservatory, both Gunnar and Matthew were seating on the wide rim of the white marble fountain, watching the others cavort around them.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's deranged imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

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