Hinterlands
Book II:
The Stables
An Erotic tale By Isha Dehaven
This is a work of historical fiction. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination, or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author.
Copyright © 2013 Isha Dehaven
For Sweet Peas in the Summer
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The stars burst overhead, shattered and brilliant, firing their silver light across the black canvas sky. Amelia glanced up at them, and then back at the dark shadow of the massive house as it fell away behind them. They had exited through the same service-door she had entered on that first day at Hinterlands, and she found it quite odd now that her arrival now seemed like the distant past. Shocked momentarily by the cool autumn night, Amelia had been ushered into the back of an open air wagon where to her surprise there were a number of other house-servants waiting there in the darkness, most of them in their bedclothes shivering. She was surprised to see the small oriental girl from the dining room there, and beside her the skinny red-haired one from yesterday’s breakfast sitting mutely, and somberly, their arms crossed and their small breasts and dark nipples visible beneath the thin fabric of their nightgowns. She took her place on the firm wooden bench and noticed that there were also many young men she had never seen before, even while walking about the house. Perhaps footmen or stable boys in training?
“Why aren’t we going yet? I’m freezing!” It was the red haired girl and she was whispering. Her hair was wet and hung heavily about her shoulders. She was shivering and clutching her arms tightly about her skinny frame. Mr. Stephen had obviously retrieved her directly from the bath.
As if on cue they heard a violent commotion from the side-door of the house and the sound of a feet kicking and being dragged through the small pea-gravel. Three young men this time were pulling and pushing someone through the darkness. As he came into the moonlight all on board the carriage could see it was another young man that was being forced on board. He was lean and powerfully built, wearing a white house-shirt that was torn and hanging from his finely defined frame. The look on his face was wild, and his dark blonde hair hung loosely over his eyes.
“Let me walk I say! Let me walk!” The man screamed defiantly. Yet as soon as the men relinquished their hold on his arms, the young man immediately began to sprint away, forcing the others to give chase. He ran directly to the waiting group in the wagon, his bare feet crunching in the gravel, and then proceeded to scamper in tight circles around them, juking to and fro in order to keep the wagon directly between himself and his angry pursuers. Mr. Stephen, creeping quietly, made a pathetic attempt to grab him from behind and was surreptitiously knocked to the ground and trodden over, eliciting a burst of laughter from everyone on board. A dark-haired young man who had been sitting next to Amelia, silently raised himself and moved to perch on the side of the wagon. As the man in the white shirt came running around for another circuit, this dark haired man leapt cat-like onto his back and knocked him to the ground. For a moment they both struggled and it seemed as if there would be a fight, but it was only for a moment, as the other men quickly pinned him down, binding his hands with a tight cord. He was placed into the wagon breathing hard and angry, his knees already bruised through his torn breeches. A small drop of blood colored the corner of his mouth.
His face was youthful and confident and he stared ahead blankly, seemingly at nothing. It struck Amelia that this face was so lovely it could have been carved, much like a statue, or the fine wooden carvings outside the Duchessa’s door. He was someone who had strength and surety, much like Lord Dunmoor, and she could also see imperiousness in those blue eyes. Who in the world was this young man? She noticed the others too felt his power, and they stared fixedly at his body and face, deeply attracted to his wildness and ferocity. As she observed him sitting there on the bench, his face changed. He had softened, the spirit of resistance, the fight, cooling to a simmer. He seemed defeated now as the wagon pulled away from the main house.
They traveled through the night down the winding road, the relative silence only broken by the occasional cough, and Mr. Stephen complaining of his sore back. Before long they approached the large stables Amelia had glimpsed some days ago. Somehow the structure appeared much more ominous at this hour. The wagon ground to a halt and Mr. Stephen climbed down slowly. He was obviously quite sore from his run-in with the young man.
“Alright! Everyone out! Step lively, now. Ms. Jenkins, Ms. Elander! No shoving.” Six young men now came sauntering out of the lighted entrance to the Stables. They looked to be farm hands, accustomed to working with animals and bales of hay, and their rough and ready appearance didn’t help any of those present feel more comfortable. Amelia could smell the scent of horses and hay on the air, strong enough to overpower the perfume of the lush green grasses and wild lands that surrounded them on all sides.
After they had all exited the wagon, (the young man was carried by his shoulders and forced to his feet) they stood nervously and expectant, no idea what came next. Glancing to her left she could see the tall red haired girl, Ms. Jenkins, with tears streaming down her face. A few other girls stood around, doing their best not to draw attention to themselves. The four house-boys who had accompanied them in the wagon stood stoically together, holding their small bags of possessions.
“Each and every one of you has been selected by the Duchessa de Montaigne herself, to be trained and prepared for her personal service.” Mr. Stephen shouted trying to sound as authoritative as possible. “This means your future here at Hinterlands, is entirely dependent on your full participation in this training. Failure to adhere to the training regimen will result in your immediate dismissal from the estate, and loss of your situation. Is that understood?” There was a general murmuring from the group as each of them contemplated the prospect of losing their situation. This was simply not an option. Banishment from the estate meant certain poverty and possible starvation for most of them. They were the working poor, trained for service, and without a recommendation from one’s previous employer, they would be untouchable to any new potential situation. Mr. Stephen cleared his throat and continued his speech.
“Your clothes will be removed. There are no clothes permitted here while you are in training.” This was met with shocked gasps from them all. Before they knew what was happening, the six attendants began stripping them of their clothing, forcefully. A particularly large farmhand, built like the side of a barn, approached her from behind. He grasped her nightgown by both shoulders and with virtually no effort whatsoever he tore the thin fabric from her body, laying her naked in the cool night air. Terrified, she immediately dropped her bag and covered herself the best she could with her hands.
“Hands at your sides!! Hands at your sides!!” Mr. Stephen yelled his voice cracking.
Reluctantly and dutifully, they did as they were told, placing their hands at their sides and standing before eachother naked. Amelia could feel her pink nipples hardening in the chilly night air. They all stole glances at each other’s nudity, young breast, thighs, and penis’s exposed in a manner none of them had ever experienced. The tall red-haired girl stood across from Amelia, and she could feel the girl’s eye’s trailing from her small breasts, down to her sex, and on to her legs as they tapered toward her tiny feet. The small oriental girl stood next to an amazingly voluptuous dark haired girl from the kitchens, their bodies in stark contrast to eachother. She shivere
d and tried not to gaze longingly at the wild boy’s body. She couldn’t resist. His chest was strongly defined and broad, his abdomen rippled from long hours of labor. His penis was…standing up slowly, growing before her eyes. He glanced at Amelia’s face and his gaze softened, almost a pleading expression.
“Eh Boss...look at this one here. He’s off to the races already.” One of the attendants had noticed the young man’s erection hardening and growing. It was smooth and handsome, this penis. It looked strong and robust in the evening light. As if her face couldn’t get any redder, Amelia flushed at the sight of it. The skinny Miss Jenkins gawked openly, her mouth hanging open.
“Close your mouth Ms. Jenkins! Have some propriety young lady!” Mr. Stephen chirped, relishing the irony. “Oh there-look at this! Mr. Howard! You are just a barrel of laughs tonight aren’t you?” Mr. Stephen circled the young man slowly. Amelia was glad to know this lad’s name, even though Mr. Howard seemed so formal a name for one so wild. “What shall we do with you sir?” He mocked, pursing his lips. He then removed a small riding-crop from his jacket and held it up in the air for all to see. Without another thought he whipped the boy’s hard penis with a snap. Mr. Howards face contorted with pain, and he exhaled his breath in a shuddering hiss, yet somehow he managed to stand stock still at attention, looking directly forward, right towards Amelia actually. He seemed to be gazing at her body, and she shifted nervously, holding her thighs tightly together. There was simply no way to hide the patch of blonde hair between her slender thighs, nor her small breasts as they stood erect in the chill. She averted her eyes demurely, but she also couldn’t help but notice Mr. Howard’s penis. It had turned red along its top, growing larger and angrier by the moment.
“Do you like her boy? That one there, eh? Ms. Kerrick?” Mr. Stephen had noticed that the boy was glancing in Amelia’s direction.
Her heart was racing. The last thing she wanted was attention from Mr. Stephen. Watching the boy’s penis treated so roughly, had been beastly, but even more alarming was the realization that she was aroused and wet with desire. She could feel the silky smooth dew rapidly gathering between her netherlips, and she resisted the urge to move thighs together, lest anyone take notice. Glancing around she noticed that some of the other girls were panting as well and Ms. Jenkins was actually stroking her sex with her fingers absently, breathing hard, her mouth slightly open again.
“I’ll take care of him Mr. Stephen!” a female voice rang out from the darkness.
Ms. Farstone! Apparently she had been here the entire time, standing in the darkness, watching the proceedings. She sauntered slowly into the light, her skirts trailing in the dirt, her red hair tied back severely so that her eyes seemed narrow and frightful. This woman was far more intimidating than Mr. Stephen, and Amelia felt a chill go through everyone who was gathered about. Her lips were outlined in audacious paints, bright red and smiling, yet there was nothing comely about this mouth. On the contrary, Amelia felt that those lips were merely wicked things, adorning themselves in a clever mélange in order to soften the guard of unwitting victims. She actually envisioned the mouth to be full of razor sharp teeth. The tight black corset she was wearing held her large breasts together, advertising the comfort and warmth that could be found therein, a strange contradiction for such an intimidating woman.
She strode up to Mr. Howard, taking a moment to look Amelia’s direction and then kneeled before him. She gazed at his penis for an instant and then back up into his face. “Poor, poor Misssssster Howard!” she cooed menacingly. “He’s sooo excited and has nowhere to turn for relief. Let Ms. Farstone take care of you!” Mr. Howard did NOT seem to want Ms. Farstone to take care of him and he looked around momentarily for any sort of escape. Realizing there was no way out, he returned his attention to the creature kneeling before him. She grasped the base of his penis with her hand and he jumped physically. As he did so, three of the farm hands held his arms from behind, preventing his escape and rooting him firmly to that spot. Ms. Farstone then did something quite shocking. She took his erection into her mouth suddenly, right in front of everyone. It was atrocious. There was a flurry of whispers at this lewd impropriety, but the crowd quickly grew quiet in silent solidarity for the handsome young man and his attempt to stay dignified in the face of such an attack.
Ms. Farstone sucked hard at first, taking his firm buttocks into her hands. She was skilled, and seemed to know precisely what she was doing as she moved her head rhythmically, sliding her wet mouth over the thick member, taking a moment to flutter her tongue along the head, before plunging hungrily down upon its girth, over and over. Mr. Howard began to moan, unable to control himself. It was obvious to everyone there he was torn between his own pleasure and defiance. He looked almost majestic as he struggled, his eyes going wide with shock. He was fighting valiantly to deprive her of the dominance she so desired, of the satisfaction, yet it was a battle of wills that he could not win. Clenching his muscles as tightly as possible, he stood stock still in the hope that it might help. The old woman seemed to sense him fighting her, and this only invigorated her. She slurped hard, chewing the shaft and slipping her fingers into the crevice of his behind, pulling him into her. Amelia felt herself becoming saturated with arousal just watching and her mind flashed back to that night in the Lord’s bedchamber with Enza. Just as it seemed as if the young man couldn’t take any more and would have his release, Ms. Farstone ceased her sucking, and turning directly to Amelia. “Do you like what you see here Ms. Kerrick?” she asked turning back at his engorged flesh. Her saliva covered its long shaft and it actually glistened in the light.
“Excuse me…Ma’am?” Amelia half-laughed in shock. She had no idea why Ms. Farstone had singled her out like this in front of everyone.
“Ms. Kerrick. Come here.”
“Ms. Farstone…I can’t…I”
“DO AS I SAY!” Ms. Farstone commanded in a voice that could break glass.
Amelia stepped forward and slowly approached them both. All the eyes in the circle were on her, looking her nakedness up and down, but she refused to see any of them.
“Do you like what you see Ms. Kerrick?”
“Excuse me Ma’am?” Amelia’s shyness was forcing her eyes to the ground.
“You heard me Dear. Do you like seeing Mr. Howard in this state? He’s a very bad boy…wouldn’t you say?” She slapped her hand on his bare backside and attempted to squeeze the flesh, but his is firm muscles refused her much purchase.
“I don’t know Ma’am…please”
“Come here.” Ms. Farstone grasped Amelia’s wrist and pulled her forward, forcing her to kneel in front of Mr. Howard. Reaching around him, she covered Amelia’s small hand with her own, pressing it into the firm flesh of his buttocks. “Now feel it, girl. Squeeze it!” She commanded. Amelia had to avert her gaze as his erect and throbbing penis was directly in her line of sight.
“Please Ms. Farstone…I…”
“Don’t disobey me girl!” Ms. Farstone was fierce in her demand. Gingerly, Amelia splayed her fingers across Mr. Howard’s firmly muscled flank. It was so hard she couldn’t believe it. She made a half-hearted attempt at clutching, but it was far too firm.
“It’s firm…” Amelia whispered, her face flushing scarlet.
“Speak up Ms. Kerrick! What did you say?”
“I said it’s f-firm” She stuttered.
“And wouldn’t you say that Mr. Howard is a very bad boy Ms. Kerrick? Isn’t that right?”
Amelia didn’t answer. She was afraid to look up at Mr. Howard, or at his body, despite the fact that it was mere inches from her. She was absently clutching the young man’s backside, running her fingers along the roundness, feeling the curves. Her heart was thundering in her ears again, and she felt very much on display, kneeling down before this naked boy, so close she could smell his sweat, and the lavender soap he had used to mask it.
“Ms. KERRICK!”
“Yes Ms. Farstone?”
“Tell us ALL how
Mr. Howard is a very bad young man, and that he’ll need to be punished.”
“He’s bad.” She whispered.
“What?”
“I said he’s very bad. Mr. Howard is very bad.” As she uttered these words Amelia finally had the courage to glance at his smooth chest, the chiseled abdominal muscles, and the penis, as it pointed directly at her. She was feeling very frightened but also couldn’t deny that she was feeling the strangest sensation of arousal. She looked into Mr. Howard’s imperious blue eyes and repeated herself. “Mr. Howard is very bad…and will need to be p-punished.”
“Good! Now take his penis into your hands girl, and show us how you will punish him.” Ms. Farstone was enjoying herself, enjoying the feeling of dominance. Amelia couldn’t stand her; wanted to lash out at her somehow. This was humiliating to feel herself so hot and bothered in front of the others.
She wrapped her hand carefully around the penis, grasping the engorged flesh. A small drop of clear liquid seemed to glisten on the tip. She could feel his pulse through it; it throbbed in her small grasp. Amelia found herself staring again in fascination. She had never seen a man’s penis close-up before. It was surprisingly ridged, and impossibly thick. She had always assumed that they were smooth. The act of sex seemed so unlikely staring at this massive thing, but she felt an ache between her legs, deep inside of her. It was desire she was feeling, and she recognized it. No. Mr. Howard’s penis was handsome, lovely even in its own right.
“Ms. Kerrick, will now take Mr. Howard into her mouth.” She commanded with a sly grin on her face.
“What? Ms. Farstone no I couldn’t…I,” Amelia tried to protest but could think of nothing to say.
“Ms. Kerrick will take him into her mouth or she will be dismissed, it’s that simple! Besides, Ms. Kerrick, you want to suckle Mr. Howard’s penis don’t you?”
Hinterlands Book II: The Stables Page 1
