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ALL CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18.

Characters owned by WithFurvor.

The Fabulous Life of Cassandra St. Clair

Chapter 1: Weatherly

Finally, a party. The air of enjoyment and entertainment has been too long gone from this esteemed home. Young Miss Cassandra certainly does love these things, but it has been some time since she's had a reason to host such an event. My name is Weatherly B. Peabottom and I am Miss Cassandra's personal butler, currently in wait at the bottom of a staircase she is soon to appear at the top of. As I look out across the old family ballroom I am distinctly aware of how few of these people really know Miss Cassandra at all. The majority of them knew her parents, and were fellow benefactors of the ongoing eastward military expansion like her parents had been.

It's been only months since her parents passed, and I have yet to see Miss Cassandra weep. Indeed, it was her fierce and most immediate intention to host this party and announce her intentions to continue her parents legacy. The St. Clair name, in her parents time, had held itself accountable not only for a vast number of the troops fighting the good fight to expand the colony but also for many interests here at home. It was noble of Miss Cassandra to intend her announcement to stay true to those interests, but it was with my ever so slight push that she decided to host a party so soon after the death of her parents. I feared that she was too much in her head, and this was always her parents way of relaxing. I hope that this return to normalcy will be good for her.

There are quite a lot of people here. Of course, when you have as much money as young Miss Cassandra does it's not hard to get people out to a party. Indeed, the free champagne I've been carrying around on a silver platter is nearly gone. I would refill the tray with new glasses, of course, but I've been instructed at this time to wait by the stairs to announce the young Miss.

As I wait I watch about a hundred people on the ballroom floor. Socialites and debutantes mixed with traders and revolutionaries, each in their fanciest garb. Miss Cassandra didn't have friends, and yet there were a few people her age here and there. Most of them, of course, were just children from prominent families with whom the young Miss would simply make cordial greetings and then forget immediately. The young Miss was quite without care for genuine social interaction.

"Ahem." I hear Miss Cassandra's voice from atop the stairs. I turn to see her there, glaring down at me. A diminutive gray cat with a small brown rectangular patch under her left eye. She's wearing a beautiful yet understated black and gray dress, the long skirt of which she held up elegantly in her paws in preparation for her walk down the stairs. Her jet black hair is hung in a sort of modern style with bangs, and as her green eyes looked down at me I was both aware of how beautiful and yet how terrifying she could be.

"Now announcing!" I speak loudly and clearly, as I was trained to do when my fate as a butler was sealed in my youth. "The regal beauty, and heiress to the St. Clair fortune Miss Cassandra St. Clair!"

As Miss Cassandra begins her ascent slowly down the stairs, I turn and discreetly signal the string quartet to begin playing. As a pastoral fills the room all eyes are turned on to the young Miss, and as usual I watch the crowd. I am trained for security detail but it's never necessary at these events, at most I simply smirk to myself as the young men in the room drop their jaws in appreciation of Miss Cassandra's beauty. Finally, she reaches the bottom of the staircase.

"Thank you, Weatherly." Miss Cassandra spoke without looking at me as she passed. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked around the room with pursed lips. The young miss always considered her entrance in to these parties to be a strategic matter, and this being her first appearance since the death of her parents would surely mean she was thinking quite strategically indeed.

"Go refill the champagne flutes, Weatherly. I will first make niceties with my father's old friends from the Equine Union, before moving on to discuss more important matters with a Duke and Duchess of King Harold's domain. I am not to be disturbed while I speak with them, it may come to you to field people away from me. After that I shall make a walk around the room and return to you with expectation of a glass of a champagne. Do you understand?" The Young Miss Cassandra spoke in a leveled but commanding tone.

"Of course, Miss." I reply dutifully with a click of my heels and a straightening of my back. I bow slightly to the young Miss and continue on to my duties. I weave through the crowd, seeing Miss Cassandra already greeting the treasurer of the Equine Union. I would have to be quick.

"Get me ten new flutes of champagne." I order the kitchen bartender, setting the silver tray before him. He reloads it in record time, as would be expected of St. Clair staff, and I am back out the door within a minute. But it appears to be a minute too late, as I scan the room for Miss Cassandra I notice her time being taken by a young man. I weave through the crowd toward them.

"Miss Cassandra, is this young gentleman deterring you from your social necessities?" I said, a kindly way to ask if I must turn the young man away.

"Yes." Miss Cassandra is smirking. "But I find this one amusing, get him my calling card but do not give him anything more to drink. I fear he will become too bold if allowed to continue, besides he is not quite old enough."

"We're the same age!" says the young man with an amused incredulity.

"I'll take my champagne flute now." Miss Cassandra orders me with a smirk. I hand the glass to her, and she takes it elegantly.

"He lets you drink?" Says the young man, addressing me with his thumb.

"We do not address Weatherly as my guardian. He services me." Miss Cassandra replies curtly.

"Wild." The young man looks me up and down. I take him to be some sort of canine mix, a mutt. He didn't look like he belonged here, and he was taking up Miss Cassandra's time.

"Please come with me, mister...?" I trailed off, attempting to get a name out of the young man.

"Flynn." He speaks to me, then turns back to the young Miss one more time and instead of saying goodbye he winks at her. I nearly chastise him for such a rude goodbye but the Young Miss seems to take no offense, a pensive look on her face. Then she turns and walks away.

"Come with me." I say to the young canine.

"Sure, whatever you say Weatherby."

"Weatherly." I correct him.

I walk the young man across the room to the hors d'oeuvres, far away from Miss Cassandra. From the left chest pocket of my suit vest I produce Miss Cassandra's personal calling card with my free paw. Why she would give it to this young heathen is beyond me, but it is not in my nature to question Miss Cassandra in ways that are not essential in completing her commands. I extend the card to him with a raised eyebrow. He takes it inelegantly.

"Wow, so I can just hit her up whenever?" He asks, pocketing the card without looking at it.

"The card has preferred calling times." I answer.

"Neat. So hey," He leans in towards me. "Let me get a glass of champagne."

"Absolutely not. Miss Cassandra ordered me not to." I reply pointedly.

"And you do whatever she tells you?" He asks, obviously meant to be teasing.

"Yes I do." And then I turn from the young man, annoyed with him returning to the thirsty guests who I was allowed to serve.

I serve drinks as time passes, and I see no more of the young ruffian. I am not asked by Miss Cassandra to turn away any other such people, and by all accounts the party is going on quite successfully. I even see entertainers hired to throw fire, which catches my attention for a moment. As I watch a young deer girl in fancy dress swallow a lit sword, I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder.

"I have been trying to signal you, Weatherly." A familiar voice, soft yet stern, comes from behind me.

"M-miss!" I say, turning on a dime to face her. "I am sorry, these fire throwers caught my attention."

"I wish to relax in the courtyard for a moment with my water pipe, please have it prepared." Miss Cassandra instructs me, a tone of displeasure in her voice. "And you will be reprimanded this evening for failing to notice me signaling for you."

"Y-yes Miss Cassandra." I say, attempting not to show the worry in my voice. I make my way to the kitchen to drop off my platter, now empty of drinks. Then, I quickly make my way to the closet that holds the smoking accessories. I grab one of Miss Cassandra's hookah, a blue and purple stained glass item that she's quite fond of and I turn toward the courtyard when I hear a scream from far behind me. I turn in a panic to see a curtain near the fire throwers caught in a blaze, and in my surprise I drop Miss Cassandra's hookah and begin running towards the curtain.

Before I can reach the young Miss is on the scene. With a bucket of water in her paw she makes quick work of the blaze, wetting it and stamping down the small burning outliers. She looks around at the party.

"I knew this would be a hot event, but I had no idea it would catch fire." She says, putting everyone at ease as the previously panicked guests go back to their hors d'oeuvres. Cassandra looks at me with a frown, and that frown turns sour as she looks past me to the now broken glass of one of her favorite hookahs on the floor. I look down, and she looks away. I know that I will be dealt with quite severely later. I shuffle back to the closet and quickly locate a red glass hookah that will suffice, while signaling to one of the hired hands under me to clean up my mess.

I come out to the courtyard, a beautiful area set in front of a garden with a full hedge maze, and Miss Cassandra is already waiting on me. In her paw she holds a floor length stick of bamboo. I am nervous, but I try not to show it as I set up her water pipe at a wrought iron garden table next to her. I attach the hose for the young miss and set to the side her coals, and her tobacco.

"Weatherly." She says quietly as I finish. "It was not in my day planner that I would have to do the duty of seeing to the safety of my guests. I'm almost certain that I have a man for that."

I look down. Along with seeing to everyone's satisfaction, keeping an eye out for security detail is also in my mandate.

"I am incredibly, inexorably sorry Miss-" "Quiet." She commands, and I obey. "Take your pants down."

"B-but Miss!"

"So help me God, Weatherly. You are a goodly servant but if I sense in you even a minutia of disobedience your punishment will be far more severe than it already is."

With a gulp I do as I am told, dropping my pants and looking away in shame.

"And the underwear." Commands the young Miss.

"Y-yes ma'am." I reply, lowering my underwear to the ground. My rear and genitals are exposed, anyone who looks out from the party in to the courtyard would be able to see me.

"Turn around, Weatherly." She says.

I do as I am told, my penis is facing the windows of the mansion. I am certain I will be seen, but I make no attempt to cover myself with my paws. I have angered Miss Cassandra enough as it is. I hear the squeak of Miss Cassandra's chair, and the bubbling of her hookah.

'THWACK!'

Pain sears through my rear, and my entire body clenches as smoke from Miss Cassandra's hose floats past my midsection from behind.

"Was that too hard, Weatherly?"

"N-no, Miss."

"Then I shall strike you harder."

"But M-eeahhh!!"

I squeal as a second, third, and fourth hit strike against my rear and upper legs. It hurts the most on the legs, and Miss Cassandra knows that. There are people looking at me through the mansion windows, people laughing with their drinks. I am a strong man, but there is a humiliation that comes to having such a young girl discipline me so publicly. My rear burns and I must fight the tremble of my bottom lip as Miss Cassandra continues her onslaught against me.

'Thwack!'

'Thwack!'

'Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!'

I served in an infantry in my teenage years, I have seen pain and the death of young men but nothing compares to the force Miss Cassandra is somehow able to muster in to her punishments. I feel my skin becoming irritated after each quick blow. I am trained to stay steadfast and upright, but I can feel my knees growing weak when finally Miss Cassandra stops her relentless whipping. Another cloud of smoke blows past me.

"On your paws and knees, Weatherly." She commands.

"Yes ma'am." I reply, quickly doing as I am told. The concrete hurts my knees as I bend down.

"Good boy. Now stay there while I enjoy my smoke." Came Miss Cassandra's voice from above me.

Miss Cassandra sits back in her chair with a soft squeak, and once she is comfortable she sets her heels upon my back. She has a very light figure, and I am a many muscled man so the weight on my back is of little consequence. It's when she whacks me on the back, one final time, that I wince and groan even if ever so softly. I hear bubbling, and then smoke floats down past me again.

"You are indeed a goodly servant, Weatherly."

"I hope I am able to bring a semblance of comfort to the young Miss."

"When you are obedient you work wonders."

This brings a smile to my face, though no one would be able to see it as my face is pointed towards the ground.

"I require a more intimate form of service from you as I smoke, Weatherly."

Miss Cassandra removes her heels from my back and spreads her legs as I slowly rise up to my knees. Looking at me with a stone faced expectation she lifts her dress up to allow me to access her nether regions. I am barely worthy to perform this service on such a person of note but, as she sucks at her hookah, I get to work.

Gingerly I place my paws at her soft thighs and lean forward, her musk hitting my nose delightfully. I move my paws up her thighs to her cunny lips and spread them gently, finally pushing my tongue forward to graze at her clitoris. With a contented sigh, Miss Cassandra exhales smoke down at me. I feel her free paw at the back of my head as I begin to make slow circles around the sensitive nub.

"Very good, Weatherly." Miss Cassandra whispers.

I place a gentle kiss on her clitoris in response and continue licking in between her folds. I can almost feel her relaxing, which pleases me. I live to serve Miss Cassandra. I lower my head and widen my jaw slightly, letting my tongue prod in to her tight opening. I takes slight force to get my tongue inside of her, but once inside I swirl vigorously. Miss Cassandra is not typically one to let her feelings show, but the occasional subtle moan drives me on with passion.

"Remove one of your gloves, Weatherly." Miss Cassandra says in a soft pant. "I wish for you to use your fingers on me."

Without removing my mouth from her most private of areas, I tug at my right glove with my left paw. It's tight but it comes off quickly enough and falls to the ground. I raise my head a bit, lifting my tongue back up to her clit and making gentle circles there. Then I raise my paw up, two fingers extended to slowly push in to Miss Cassandra's folds. I can feel her physically relax as I begin pumping the two digits in and out of her soaked insides.

As I pleasure the young Miss I can feel my erection tightening in my trousers. I will not play with myself unless I am told to, and currently I am too busy to ask. As I curl my fingers inside of her, Miss Cassandra's thigh muscles tighten. She draws heavily on her hookah, blowing smoke up in to the air. She must be getting close to her orgasm. A small amount of fluid squirts out around my fingers and a soft moan cries out from above me.

I begin pumping my fingers rapidly, suckling at her clit with my lips as I swirl my tongue around it between them. I feel her grip at my hair tighten, and Miss Cassandra pushes my head harder in to her womanhood. Eagerly I curl my fingers inside of her, attempting to grasp at her elusive G-spot. It must have worked, as I work my tongue over her clitoris Miss Cassandra lets out a low moan and fluids squirt out strongly, splashing against the top of my suit. Miss Cassandra pulls tightly at my hair and takes another long inhale from her hookah. Then, blowing smoke in to the air, she relaxes and lets go of my head.

"Mm. Very good, Weatherly."

I remove my fingers from the young Miss and stand up, looking down at my vest and suit coat. It's quite wet.

"Thank you, Miss Cassandra."

"Now go see to the happiness of the rest of the party. I may return, and I may not. You are to make sure everyone is well taken care of and that no one stays too late. We aren't running a flop house."

"Yes ma'am, very good." I say, standing at attention and then relaxing and excusing myself.

As I step back in to the party I catch the stares of those who saw my actions through the windows that look out on to the garden. I am not ashamed of the services I provide for Miss Cassandra, but it can be a bit embarrassing to endure the onlookers with vaginal fluids coating my exterior. I make my way in to a servants changing closet, reset my attire, and go back to my duties for the night

-

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I know this is a bit outside the bounds of what I usually do in scope, but I hope you enjoy it. More to come, eventually..