Authors: Isha Dehaven
It
was then that he began to groan, his handsome face contorting, his thrusts
quickening and becoming more forceful.
Enza cried out in a melodramatic, depraved fashion, gyrating her hips
wildly and grasping the bed-sheets in her fists. She smirked as she did this,
her face a sharp contrast to the look of agonizing pleasure on the master.
He seemed to shudder and release deep
within his core, and as he did so Enza gazed directly at Amelia.
This was too much.
Against her better judgment, Amelia felt
herself begin to come powerfully and angrily. Her wet sex throbbed against her
playing fingers. She couldn’t stop it. She gasped silently again and again,
giving in completely to the contractions of pleasure that wracked her slender
frame and she clung to the curtain desperately in order to keep her knees from
buckling.
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After
the master had finished taking his pleasure with Enza, he had quickly fallen
asleep with her naked body draped over him.
Amelia waited terrified behind the
curtain, fearful that the master would awaken and come into the antechamber to
retrieve something. Fortuitously, this never happened. After he had slept for
some time Enza had gathered her things and retrieved Amelia from behind the
curtains, virtually dragging her from the room.
Wordless and barefooted they had crept through the
darkness of the house, Enza leading her by the hand.
Her grip had been gentle and
encouraging, almost sensual, like one friend leading another. This confused
Amelia greatly.
Enza was beautiful,
fierce and powerful and Amelia was almost certain that she must despise her yet
she had kissed her so passionately behind the curtain.
Amelia had fought her hard, but she was
also concerned that she hadn’t fought her hard
enough
.
What truly frightened Amelia was her own
lack of will. She was all but certain that if Enza had wanted her to, she would
have continued to kiss her. Even while Lord Dunmoore had taken Enza,
positioning her this way and that, she seemed to still be running the
situation. Amelia was too exhausted to consider this anymore. Enza brought them
to their room quietly so as not to awaken Kitt, and motioned for her to get
into bed.
She felt self-conscious
changing into her nightgown in the darkness, knowing that Enza was mere feet
away. Yet as soon as her head hit the pillow she had fallen directly into
slumber.
Amelia
awoke from an exhausting sleep in the dim lantern light, the events of the
previous night continuing to spin through her mind. They seemed strange and
dreamlike now as she lay in the darkness, contemplating the work that lay ahead
of her.
Enza was already gone and
her bed was made. Kitt had explained that each day they would rise before the
sun, donning their morning work dresses in this little room. Amelia was
discouraged to see that these dresses too were very immodest outfits, even if
they were somewhat more fit for work.
They consisted of a short white muslin skirt, gathered tightly about the
waist, and a pair of stockings that ended high up on the thigh.
The length of the skirt was longer than
the evening dress, coming to a conclusion just above the knee, and the top
portion was a black, frilly, sleeveless shirt that cinched tightly below the
bosom with a series of small ropes that tied in the back.
It simply wasn’t possible to get into
the dress without assistance, and Amelia was glad that Kitt was there to help
her tie the strings. After lacing her leather boots, Amelia pinned her hair
into a tight bun, and admired her slender neck in the small mirror that hung on
the wall.
She
had always been very pretty, and her mother had warned her that this would
cause problems while she was in service.
“You
mustn’t draw attention to yourself, under any circumstance!” she had urged
while brushing Amelia’s wild blonde hair.
“If your master decides he wants you for more than just changing the
pot, you’ll be in trouble”.
“What
do you mean mum?” she had asked, innocently enough.
“Don’t
you worry about it, you here?
Just
serve your master and mistress well, and you’ll do fine.”
After last
night,
serving one’s master
now meant something entirely different than
she had previously imagined. Amelia was not looking forward to the day ahead,
but she was determined to perform her job perfectly, and not draw attention to
herself. That was of course unless it was for the handsome Lord Dunmoor. For
his attention she imagined she would do anything-though the thought of seeing
him terrified her. She had never been so aroused by a man before, so attracted
and fearful.
She also dreaded
running into Enza again.
She felt
powerless and intimidated around the girl, and knew she wouldn’t be able to
look her in the eye.
After
meeting Mr. Steven’s briefly in the mad tumult of the kitchens and being
reprimanded for her appearance, she joined all of the other serving girls who
gathered around a long table to nibble bread and butter and to sip warm tea
before they dispersed to the various duties around the manor. Amelia hadn’t
eaten anything since early yesterday and as she eagerly placed the first crusty
piece of bread into her mouth and washed it down with bitter tea, a warm
sensation spread slowly in her tummy. For the first time she had a chance to
really take notice of the other serving girls, some of whom stood around
chatting and laughing, while others sat mutely, scarcely awake yet. There was a
tall red-haired girl, terribly thin, but pretty in her own right, her face
covered in little freckles. She leaned against the wall whispering to the
oriental girl and glancing occasionally at Amelia. Most of these girls had been
involved in the dining hall event the previous night. Amelia could scarcely
imagine what had taken place after her escape, but a host of images flashed
before her eyes, terribly depraved things, some of which included Kitt.
Kitt hadn’t mentioned a thing about the
dining room as they had dressed this morning, simply acting as if nothing had
happened. This was a relief as Amelia had no idea how she could speak of it in
any right, besides, she was doing everything in her power to put the past
night’s events out of her mind.
She
had decided it was best to focus on one thing at a time, and right now that was
eating.
There
were a number of different jams sitting in small jars upon the table and she
preoccupied herself with tasting each one, dipping her knife carefully, and
spreading it across the bread. The marmalade had already been set upon by the
others, and there was precious little left to sample. There were also blackberry,
strawberry and cherry jams, all sweet and tasty, and a dark currant jam that
was surprisingly tart upon her tongue. She licked some of the currant from her
finger-an old habit she hadn’t quite broken, and as she did so she caught Mr.
Stephen frowning intensely at her.
She quickly placed her hands at her sides and as she did so she caught
Kitt giggling. Despite herself she started giggling too at her dark-haired
friend, and after a moment she hiccupped in her vain attempt to suppress
it.
This elicited a full outburst
of laughter from them both, and Amelia felt her face redden with joy for the
first time since arriving at Hinterlands.
After
breakfast the girls scattered to their various duties, and Amelia followed Kitt
upstairs to the bed-chambers to stoke the morning fires.
The house possessed a maze of back
stairwells that allowed the servants to access the upper floors without ever
encountering the tenants of the house, and there was a noticeable change in
atmosphere as their boots left the stone stairs and trod upon the luxuriously
soft carpets of the upper hallways. They passed the occasional serving girl,
like themselves, usually carrying morning linens or a bed heating pan, but no
one else. Silently they entered a number of ornate bedrooms, their furniture
and décor a world away from anything Amelia had ever known. They were careful
not to awaken the sleeping forms ensconced below the heavy bed sheets, moving
with speed and purpose.
They were
to light the morning fire, and place the pot of tea over the flames. Each time
Amelia began to glance around a particular room, Kitt motioned with hand
gestures, for her to refocus as she demonstrated how to blow gently on the
coals to instigate kindling. This particular fire was proving troublesome, and Kitt
was forced to crouch provocatively on all fours to blow at the base of the
small flame.
Amelia noticed the
short dress ride up Kitts thighs, exposing the tops of her stockings and the
smooth skin above.
Her legs were
slender and toned, and the posture was reminding Amelia of the same position
Enza had been in with Lord Dunmoor.
It was strangely attractive, and Amelia felt that confusion again as she
kneeled beside her friend. Kitt then turned to look at her, the beautiful,
mischievous brown eyes peering from beneath her boyish bangs. She glanced down
at Amelia’s exposed stockings with a curious expression. Her eyes travelled up
the length of her friend’s slender body devouring its shape, its young
curves.
Amelia could almost feel
how she looked through Kitt’s eyes. The air became thick and she felt herself
blush as something forbidden passed between them. Reaching toward her in the
darkness, Kitt brushed one of the small strands of blonde hair back behind
Amelia’s ear.
It was an intimate
action; one that a lover might give to their beloved and it induced an
immediate atmosphere of excitement between them that quickly transformed into
awkwardness. They both stifled a laugh and exited the room as quickly as they
had entered it.
They
repeated this pattern, over and over again throughout the morning:
kneeling together on soft carpets to
light the embers, struggling to get them lit without waking their masters and
mistresses. Kitt’s hand would sometimes stray to Amelia’s back, gently and
playfully, touching her unnecessarily. Amelia admiring the way Kitt moved her
hips and shoulders, the way the muslin dress wrapped her torso tightly.
Kitt’s body was innocent in its motions,
always ready to react or gesture madly about this or that thing.
She seemed far too free to be here in a
place like this, in service. She was an imp, a child that belonged running
naked through the forest.
Her short
hair, and long neck made her terribly attractive, almost boyish to Amelia, and
she found herself repeatedly trying to meet eyes with her friend whenever
possible. Amelia wanted to be carefree as Kitt was.
Needed it desperately she found.
Keeping Kitt close would help Amelia
stay sane, and one needed sanity in a place like this.
When
Kitt was certain that Amelia was capable of performing the job without any
trouble, she left her to complete the final rooms all on her own, dancing an
exaggerated jolly-waltz as she went down the hallway and making funny faces at
Amelia. She was so preoccupied with her dance that she bumped headlong into
another serving girl who was carrying an armful of towels causing her to
scatter them all over the floor.
“Hey
there now!”
The girl grimaced
looking down at the mess. Instead of apologizing Kitt did her best
impersonation of Mr. Stephen acting furious.
“Ms.
Elander!!
Your behavior is
Atrocious!
Atrocious you
hear?!
Clean this mess up
immediately lass!”
The other girl
frowned and rolled her eyes but Amelia giggled again uncontrollably.
Kitt Enders was something else.
The
final room of the morning was off the main hallway down a small set of
stairs.
The huge red door was
framed with exquisite wooden carvings of birds, ivy and small flowers, all of
these wrapping and turning themselves around large pillars. The carvings were
so lifelike they appeared almost real to Amelia’s eyes, and she couldn’t
believe any earthly person was capable of such artisanship.
She lightly ran her finger along the
painted wood, feeling the deep grooves and ridges.
The emotional effect was both welcoming
and intimidating and her first instinct was to turn away and find Kitt,
wherever she was, and ask her to complete this particular room. Nevertheless,
she also felt the need to prove herself after the morning’s activities, so
swallowing her fear she quietly turned the massive knob and crept into the
room.
The
space was large, but incredibly it was still warm from the previous night’s
fire.
In the dim morning light it
was impossible to see much detail, but the sense of absolute splendor was ever
present as she kneeled before the embers of the massive fireplace. Amazingly
the scent of roses permeated each breath Amelia took.
There was something else in the air as
well, a wild untamed scent, rich like the summer grasses after the first
rainfall, but also a heady scent, like a glass of spilled wine.
She poked at the embers with a stick and
blew gently.
“Whose
there?” a light female voice called out of the darkness from the direction of
the massive four-posted bed.
It had
been there the entire time, the bed.
Looming in the place Amelia had been trained to not look.
“Just
me mum. Tending your fire.” Amelia didn’t even turn around, and she felt her
voice quiver and her heart begin to race.
“Tending
my fire?
Are you sure?” At this,
Amelia got the embers to grow and an orange light began to cast itself about
the room.
She turned to see a young
woman with wildly messy brown hair crawl out of the bed, her thin cotton
nightgown hanging loosely about her form.
She looked sweaty and flushed and yawned loudly swaying to and fro
before she started to pull her nightgown up above her head.
Amelia turned to the fire again
immediately as she realized she was once again in the presence of someone’s
nudity.
The woman called to her
almost drunkenly.