Author note: Thank you to every person who has sent me awesome comments about this story. Thanks for

Author note: Thank you to every person who has sent me awesome comments about this story. Thanks for reading, liking and sharing if you have. Hope you enjoy the final part. I’ll be back soon with new posts.Previously: Trust fund heir Max was given the title of Master of Northwood Manor estate. He is served by strange butler, Giles, and servant, Nicholas. The local football team were transformed into servants. A party, intended to deliver a big announcement to the town, was planned.Read part one, part two, part three, part four and part five.Master of the House (part 6 of 6)9pm - The PartyThis was it, Max thought. The big announcement. Three-piece tuxedo on, he looked at a sea of suited men and women in flowing dresses. His new team of servants were at every vantage point of the ballroom. Every young guy holding something to be of use, like a platter of canapés or flutes of champagne. Nicholas was behind him. His uncle, his companion, the leaders of the community were all watching. It was time.‘Good evening all,’ Max said into the microphone, his voice booming.‘Thank you for coming.’He breathed. He began his prepared speech.‘For too long, Northwood Manor has been in the wrong hands. It is time to rectify decades of insult. It is time the mansion returns to its rightful owners. Would the true heir join me now?’2pm - Before The PartyKnocking, almost frantic knocking, woke Max from a hangover slumber. Blurry-eyed, he peered out from his silk sheets. Daylight burned. He didn’t feel sick, but he did have a terrible headache. He couldn’t remember anything. ‘Nicholas…Nicholas come in,’ Max groggily said. But the brown-haired boy who entered was not Nicholas. It was another boy. Smiling from ear to ear, he had classically handsome good looks. Dressed up in his bow tie and waistcoat, he looked like the very image of a servant.‘You’re not…you’re not Nicholas,’ Max said, still waking up.‘No, Sir,’ he said. ‘I’m Servant Boy Number 4, Sir. I serve the Master of Northwood Manor. Is there anything I can do to serve you, Sir?’Max fingered through his hair, eyes blinking. ‘What’s your actual name? It can’t just be “Servant Boy”.’‘Call me anything you wish, Sir,’ the boy replied. ‘Boy, servant, slave, fag, footman, anything!’‘But come on,’ Max said, his shirtless body showing out of the covers. ‘Your real name.’‘It’s, it’s-uh,’ the boy struggled to remember. ‘It’s Oliver, Sir.’‘Finally,’ Max said. ‘Now we’re getting somewhere. Now why are you in my room?’His cock began to stiffen. ‘Mr Giles instructed me to attend to your needs, Sir,’ the servant boy said. ‘Is there anything I can do to serve you, Sir?’‘And where is Nicholas, boy?’ Max demanded.‘The head servant is occupied, Master. I am very happy to serve you in any way you wish, Sir,’ the boy said, his chin low and resting on the taut bowtie at his neck.‘Fine,’ Max said. ‘If you’re so eager to obey, you’ll have no problem obeying any command. Is that right, boy?’‘Yes, Sir! I’m happy to obey any command, Master! Please let me obey you,’ the servant responded.‘Ok, then,’ Max said. ‘Lower your trousers and pants to your knees. Present yourself over the side of the bed. I’m going to fuck you.’It was like his mind had clouded. Any shred of a thought of a woman never even occurred to him. He was once a womanizing playboy. But now, now he only thought of himself as Master. He had an obedient servant boy. And he wanted to cum inside his boy. Out of bed, naked, he watched as he saw the new boy named Oliver gingerly drop his tight black trousers and bend over. His cock hard, it pointed straight at the young boy’s untouched hole. ‘S-Sir!’ he softly cried.‘Oh,’ Max said. ‘Don’t say I’m not a good Master, boy.’Getting down on his knees, he attacked the tight arse with his tongue. Lapping at it like a parched dog with a bowl of water, he savored the smell of the beautiful boy’s bum. Spitting, he worked a manicured finger inside. He felt soft, sensual flesh. He couldn’t wait to fuck it loose. Happy with his work, Max stood once again and slowly worked his cock inside. The servant clung to the silk duvet covers, his waistcoat rising up his back as he breathed heavily. Kindness was over. He wanted to fuck, and to cum. Wetting his member with his spit, he slowly began thrusting. And soon he went faster. Deeper. ‘Make a noise, boy,’ Max said. ‘Look at me.’The servant, dressed up to the nines, looked. The two caught each other’s eyes.‘Please. Please. Oh god, oh god I’m getting fucked,’ Oliver’s eyes widened, and then panicked. ‘You’ve got to help me and my team, man! We’re not servants, we’re footballers!!’Max stopped. His cock wet, he left the young man’s hole. Dumbfounded. ‘Please! Do something man!’There was a knock on the door, and it opened. ‘Master,’ Nicholas said, smiling, dressed in his bowtie and waistcoat in an identical uniform to Oliver. ‘Oh, I see you are already making very good use of the new servant boys.’Max could still say nothing. What was happening?‘You!’ Oliver cried. Unable to get up from the bed, but his face wide awake and aware. ‘I know you…right? We went to school together, right? Help me, man!’‘Oh no,’ Nicholas said. ‘It appears Giles’ training has not been as comprehensive as usual. We’ll have to fix that.’The gardener-turned-servant went over to the bed, Oliver’s eyes wide and flustered. ‘Boy, who do you serve?’ Nicholas demanded. ‘The Master,’ Oliver softly said. ‘Boy, who do you obey?’ Nicholas also added. ‘The Master,’ Oliver said, slightly louder. ‘Boy, do you promise to serve the Master and do anything he demands?’ Nicholas continued. ‘Yes, I promise to serve the Master and do anything he demands.’ Oliver, now a mind-wiped servant boy once again, said. ‘Good,’ Nicholas said. ‘Master, please continue pleasuring yourself with the boy. I will watch to ensure he does not disobey you once again.’Max’s cock was still hard, and wet. Oliver’s hands went to his arse, widening his hole. With only a small pause, Max fucked the servant boy. Neither spoke as they rutted, other than soft moans. And Nicholas watched the entire thing, a simple smile on his face. 6pm - The Special Guest ArrivesMax’s mind was mush. After Oliver was removed from his room by Nicholas, he was left stunned. It was like every part of his being was trying to solve a difficult maths problem.  Everything felt disconnected, like he was waiting to be told what to do or even how to act. He must’ve sat there on the edge of the bed, naked and cock soft, for hours. The front doorbell rang, echoing its gong throughout the manor. It was then he flicked to reality, like a television on static switching back to normal service. Get up. Get dressed. Be presentable. Be the Master of Northwood Manor.Even from his room, he could hear Giles welcome the guests with his booming voice. Max swiftly went to his closet and started picking out his nearest suit and tie, shrugging it on as quickly as possible. Giles knocked.‘Master Grantham?’ the butler peered round the bedroom door. ‘Two very special guests are here to meet you before the event this evening.’‘Yes,’ Max said, as he tightened his necktie. ‘Of course. Please announce me.’Giles, as he had done so many times before, pronounced: ‘‘Announcing Master Maximilian Grantham, the new Master of Northwood Manor!’ Max walked down the stairs, surveying his guests. Uncle Max! His namesake. He was with a man he didn’t recognise. Both in tuxedos, ready for this night’s soiree. His uncle was still as dashingly handsome as ever, a classic Hollywood silver fox. His companion looked away, sighing at the portraits that decorated the halls.‘Uncle!’ Max said, ‘welcome back! I’m so happy you were able to make it this evening.’‘I wouldn’t miss it,’ his uncle replied. ‘Please, let me welcome my companion. He is Patrick Collier, a property developer himself. I live with him at his estate.’Max remembered his manners, although the man before him looked slimy. His hair was thick with grease, pulled back. His face looked crooked, his smile like a snake, his lean figure towering over Max.‘Charmed,’ he said. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir.’‘The pleasure’s all mine,’ Patrick responded. Giles broke up the introductions, and suggested a small drink before the party began.Retiring into a nearby lounge, filled with lush furnishings and dark red curtains, the three men sat on three plush chairs. Giles, ever the server, went behind a bar to fetch and pour the spirits. While the rest of the house was older, Edwardian, the lounge had the feel of a 1920s speakeasy bar. Except, of course, they were the only guests.Patrick removed a large cigar from his jacket pocket, and began to smoke almost provokingly in Max’s face. His uncle was quiet.‘Now Giles,’ Patrick said. ‘Do we need to speak in private or…?’‘Oh Mr Collier, you can speak very freely. Master Grantham is under control,’ Giles responded from behind the bar.‘Remain still Max. Watch Mr Collier.’Max’s back stiffened, his mouth trapped shut. His mind clouded. ‘Oh really?’ Patrick replied. ‘If that’s the case, then…position four.’Max’s uncle lept off from his seat and went to his hands and knees. Patrick smoked away as he used the older man as a footstool. ‘So have you used him as a cocksucker yet?’ Patrick continued. ‘Bet he sucks better than this useless piece of shit. This one’s got nice soft lips.’Giles responded: ‘No, Mr Collier. Sad to say, you’ll have to get in line…’8pm - Getting DressedMax stared at himself in the bedroom mirror, shirtless. He wore his tuxedo trousers, the black sheer socks, and the patent leather shoes. He was happy to be dressed up like a Ken doll by Nicholas, who buttoned every button and ensured everything was neatly ironed and fitted.Everything that had happened to him trickled through his mind since he first got to Northwood Manor. He couldn’t help but think how strange it was that Delia, a trusted maid for decades, ‘forgot’ she stole cutlery. Or the disappearance of Cliff, who he had strange memories of being tied up in a basement begging to get fucked. Or Nicholas, the gardener turned eager obedient servant boy. Or Oliver, the servant he fucked earlier. Or, oh god, his uncle? But what about himself? He arrived a philandering hedonistic straight playboy, and now look at him. Confused, having sex with men, and he lived his life in suits and tuxedos. And he couldn’t forget those days, every day, licking his own cum off the mirror.He shuddered. He tried to explain it all using reason, or science, but no. He couldn’t explain it all away anymore. He had to put it all together. He had to…‘Nicholas?’ Max said. ‘Yes, Sir?’ the servant responded. ‘I need to leave. I-I need to get out of here.’‘But, Sir, the party. Your guests are already arriving, Sir.’Max moaned his frustration. His head hurt, trying to pull all the strings together in one. But he had to use his strength. Fight. ‘C-come with me, Nicholas. We can find a way to fix the two of us together,’ he said.‘Oh silly Max,’ Nicholas smiled. ‘Why don’t you just stop fighting the inevitable?’Max didn’t get it. He was in shock. He had never heard the blond boy use his name.‘Nick? Nicholas? What do you mean?’ he said.‘So stupid,’ Nicholas said. ‘I always knew Granthams were idiots but I never knew you were this stupid. It just made my job easier.’‘You?’ Max responded. ‘You did this all?’‘Oh god no,’ Nicholas responded. ‘Giles has a lot of talent for mind control. It’s his eyes, you see. Catch one look and he enters into your mind like it’s sweets ready for taking. He can enter your dreams and inch by inch he’ll make you into what you ought to be.’Max was transfixed, stuck, his eyes staring at the mirror. Nicholas too, looked in the mirror at him.‘Sure he might have taught me a few tricks. But he was in my family’s employ the entire time.’Max said: ‘I don’t…get why you would want to do this to me.’‘You’re a Grantham,’ Nicholas said. ‘Granthams stole this manor from the Colliers. Colliers were born in Northwood. You just took it from us a century and a half ago. What did we become? We had nothing. We watched, toiling as servants and butlers, as we saw our beloved home become desecrated. And what’s worse, the portraits of my ancestors still line the halls. So yes, of course you deserve it.’‘But why?’ Max stopped. He should have put it together. The same shining blond head of hair on Nicholas’ head matched the men and women in the portraits perfectly.‘Why spend every day sucking me off? I…trusted you.’‘You didn’t get all the pleasure,’ Nicholas smiled, bearing his teeth. ‘Oh-ok,’ Max said, his nerves showing. ‘Have the manor. Just please let me go. Let me leave. I just…want to leave. God I haven’t left this place in so long, have I? Let me go. I won’t bother you anymore. I promise.’Nicholas stopped. ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Sign the manor to me, the rightful heir Nicholas Collier, and we’ll see about your freedom.’‘Deal,’ Max responded.9pm - The Party‘Good evening all,’ Max said into the microphone, his voice booming.‘Thank you for coming.’He breathed. He began his prepared speech.‘For too long, Northwood Manor has been in the wrong hands. It is time to rectify decades of insult. It is time the mansion returns to its rightful owners. Would the true heir join me now?’Nicholas, still in his servant uniform, waved to the smattering of confused applause from the audience. Max said: ‘Research has revealed the Granthams are the unfair owners of this manor. As the Collier family built this manor, and owned it for centuries, will you Nicholas Collier please take over as Master of this house?’Patrick, who looked on as his uncle stood behind him with a bowed head, couldn’t help but chuckle.‘I’d be very happy to,’ Nicholas said into the microphone. Away from the mic, he added ‘boy’.Max caught Nicholas’ eyes, his face sunken.‘Give me your tuxedo jacket,’ Nicholas continued to whisper. Max whisked it off, quickly, not wanting to anger him any further. The man he once thought was his servant, stood there, in his tuxedo jacket.And Max looked at himself. He remembered what he felt like when he looked in the mirror. With the jacket, he was a master, and without, he was a servant boy. Prince to pauper. Upstairs to downstairs. He stood straighter. Firmer. And then put his hands behind his back.‘Bow,’ Nicholas said. It was only after a moment that Max realised he had said it into the mic. ‘Bow, boy. Do it.’He did. Max bowed deeply in front of the young blond man who stood before the stares of the crowd. ‘On your knees, boy,’ he added. People in the crowd murmured. What was happening? Max did it. He bowed his head. He knew he’d been beaten.‘Kiss my shoes, boy,’ Nicholas said, and he didn’t even have to wait before Max reluctantly started lapping at his new Master’s feet. Nicholas whispered: ‘Did you really think I’d let you go? No boy, you’re going to be my servant, my cocksucker, and my fuck toy. Your days of freedom are over. You’re going to be my good, obedient boy, aren’t you?’Max kept kissing, caressing, lapping at his feet. He didn’t know what would happen if he disobeyed, and he didn’t want to find out.‘Yes, Master,’ he said. Nicholas again faced the crowd. ‘Order,’ he said, ‘has been restored.’ -- source link

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