by Isha Dehaven
Then as quickly as it had started, it was done. Enza had stopped kissing Amelia and turned away, leaving her panting and flushed. She looked back at Amelia, her delectable mouth still wet from saliva. “Close the curtain girl, and be quiet!”
As if in a trance now, Amelia did precisely as she was told. She closed the curtain and stood patiently. She was thoroughly confused but didn’t know what else to do at this point. She could still taste Enza on her lips. She stood there alone with her own thoughts.
She didn’t have to wait long.
She heard a large door swing open out in the bedroom and then heard it close again with a boom. The sound was so loud it reverberated into her bones. She peeked through the slightly parted curtain to see the most handsome man she had ever beheld standing before Enza. Fresh from being outdoors, his large, muscular frame filled the high-collared great coat he was wearing, a coat still wet from the rain. His dark hair lay tangled upon his head, and little streams of water ran in rivulets down his face. His black boots were covered in mud. He emanated power of a kind Amelia had never known and she stood transfixed and fearful to be hiding in his room.
“Good evening Master” Enza said in a tone that was submissive and unfamiliar. Amelia watched as Enza followed this with a perfect curtsey.
Without speaking a word, the man pulled his coat off and let it fall to the floor. Enza quickly scrambled to pick it up. He strode over to the bar and filled his glass with madeira, the liquid glistening amber-like through the crystal. He downed it in a single gulp and sat upon the bed.
“Come.” He gestured to Enza with a single word, and she sprang to action, hurrying to kneel before him, pulling first one, then the other boot from his feet. After removing each boot, Amelia noticed Enza run her hands gently over his thighs, as if to massage them. She was looking at his face and he at hers. There seemed to be an unspoken conversation between them. After a few moments she timidly began to run her hands over a suddenly growing bulge between his legs. Amelia watched in amazement as the bulge grew and lengthened with her caresses. She stood fascinated and shocked as Enza concentrated her attention upon this bulge, rubbing and caressing it with her small hands, coaxing it into existence. It continued to grow beneath her hands until it lay huge and suppressed within his breeches. Then Enza leaned forward and seemed to bite the bulge through the thin fabric, an exceedingly lewd act that caused Amelia to gasp. The man too groaned slightly-such attractive sound! Amelia couldn’t believe she was even watching this but she absolutely couldn’t take her eyes off the spectacle. Worst of all she could feel her own silky wetness growing once again inside her pantaloons and she clenched her thighs together with a shiver. What a terrible girl this Enza was, taking advantage of the lord in such a way! Look at the way she bites upon it, she will surely hurt him-she thought to herself jealously. He was so becoming, with his brooding eyes, and dark curls that fell upon his face. She will hurt him for certain.
Enza didn’t hurt him though.
She began to unfasten the four buttons that kept Lord Dunmoor's breeches closed, one by one. Amelia’s eyes grew large as the Lords massive penis sprang forth in its full glory. It was a thing of perfection, long, hard and impossibly thick. It sat upon a base of dark hair, and was so stately that it must have been born in the very forge of primordial creation. Both she and Enza sighed in unison as it cast its shadow in the firelight.
Enza’s hand grasped it the way one might grasp a butter-churn, and she began to shower it with little kisses, starting at the top and making her way down. She was methodic, almost worshipful about it, darting her tongue out here and there to cover the head in little licks. Amelia shuddered with envy, and she felt a physical desire unlike anything she had ever experienced in that moment. Clenching the curtain in her fist, she bit down on her finger to stem this emotion. She watched as Enza then placed her mouth over the head of the Master’s penis and engulfed the shaft completely, sucking hard. He moaned and thrust his hips upward slightly. How powerful it must feel to get him to react like that-Amelia thought. Enza slid her hand back and forth along its length, suckling the end as she did so, and the master responded in turn, moaning and grasping her wild black hair in his strong hands. It was scarcely possible yet his penis was actually growing larger and Enza struggled to lick her tongue up and down the shaft!
Suddenly he had Enza standing before him and he was peeling the blue dress from her body, jerking it violently down off her shoulders, even tearing the fabric to quickly expose her nakedness. She stepped out of it as it gathered around her feet and he placed both hands upon her hips seemingly to gaze at her voluptuousness. Amelia thought she could see a ravenous light in his dark eyes. Enza turned to glance in Amelia’s direction, and they made eye contact just as he bit down hungrily on one of her perfect breasts, nibbling the smooth flesh and twisting the other nipple with his hand. She gasped, smiled perversely and moaned, keeping eye contact with Amelia the entire time. She obviously was enjoying the girl’s helplessness, with the knowledge that Amelia must also be terribly aroused. Amelia hated her but couldn’t take her eyes off her. She wished those were her breasts that were being sucked and kneaded, wished the master was then grasping her buttocks as he did Enza’s, his calloused fingers parting the cheeks and squeezing hard. She ached in her deepest places and felt her own wetness running down her leg. This was sheer torment.
The master pulled Enza onto the bed the way one might arrange a doll, and she submitted willfully, and with a practiced compliance. She obviously knew the Master’s preferences, posing provocatively on all fours. Enza now faced the curtains directly and she stared defiantly and wickedly into Amelia’s eyes. She tilted her perfectly rounded backside into the air invitingly and Lord Dunmoor wasted no time positioning himself behind her. He slapped the cheeks repeatedly with his strong hands, rubbing and squeezing each one. Enza flung her hair primitively from side to side as he did so. He then grasped the dark hair of her head in his hand and began sliding his member slowly and thickly into his favorite servant causing Enza to gasp. Oh my goodness. How? How is this happening? Amelia thought to herself. She found herself experiencing the act in her own mind, instinctively sliding her hand into her pantaloons to feel the wetness that had gathered there, each touch of her fingers bringing jolts of pleasure through her aching sex. The Master had begun thrusting into Enza’s body, his face a mask of determination, each movement evincing wordless cries of pleasure from the girl. Sweat glistened upon her forehead, and her tanned breasts bounced back and forth with his ministrations. Enza herself was actually thrusting back into the master, countering his movements aggressively with her hips. Amelia was angry at this display; so angry and jealous. Though despite this anger, or perhaps even because of it, she too rubbed her fingers in rhythm behind the curtain, panting with desire and craving anything to sooth the throbbing between her legs.
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. Af
ter 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, touc
hing 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.
