Anonymous: A Stately English Mansion

'Yes, Papa'.

Kate had meanwhile grabbed up the tangled bedclothes and covered herself in part at least. With the closing of the door behind Ethel, Easton turned to her, fingering his beard and smiling unctuously.

'I regret the incident, my dear. Ethel is sportive. You understand the term?' he asked, aware of the ludicrousness of the question to such a girl.

'No, sir, I don't. Sir, I got to go home now, and thanking you… ' Kate began, only to be silenced by a magisterial raising of his hand.

'Would you rather not stay, Kate, and be inducted into the household-become a paid companion to the wayward Ethel, perhaps? See now, give me your address. Have you parents, a family-yes? Splendid. I will have a message sent to them instantly by carriage-nay, a horse rider- that you have taken up a position here. I shall, of course, accompany the message with several sovereigns', added Easton cunningly, being well aware that to a girl of Kate's station even five shillings was a fortune.

'Several s… s… s…?' stammered Kate who hugged the upper sheet to her nicely-rounded breasts.

'But of course, my dear, and you may later send money home if you wish'.

'But I never… ' began Kate, who had little idea in fact as to how she might be going to finish the sentence.

'Oh, you will, you will', Easton replied truthfully and smoothly, whereat Letitia's voice was heard calling him, conveying with it a strain of irritation that he felt it best not to ignore.-'Coming, my dear! Kate, you may rest or you may rise, attire yourself in your new clothes and take tea. Be certain that before you have done the last, a horse rider will be on his way to-er-number five, Saddler's Alley, Spitalfields. Is that right?'

'Sir, yes sir, but… '

'Good girl. We may see you downstairs soon perhaps?'

And with that Easton emerged, not without a mite of trepidation, to find his wife glaring at him.

'Have you seen Ethel? Her bottom is all red. Come!' she said.

It was typical of the oddities of their relationship that she could take charge on such a paltry matter, Easton thought with despair. Uttering a gruff 'What?', he followed her along the corridor where throwing open the door of Ethel's room, their daughter was to be seen sitting with the peignoir still clutched before her, wriggling her bottom and biting her lip simultaneously.

'I t… t… told you, Mama, I fell over and bumped my bottom', Ethel choked.

'Ah, THAT was the sound I heard, dammit. Really, Ethel, you are becoming a most careless girl', intervened Easton swiftly, while Letitia squinted at both, saying, 'I really do not know what is to do'.

'Have Mary fetch some pomade or something, dear', said Easton.

'Oh very well, but I must say that it seems ODD to me. A bump indeed-and why is Bella not up?' Letitia asked, making her exit to the profound relief of Easton at least who then advanced upon Ethel saying softly (albeit also a little quizzically), 'You are a very naughty girl, Ethel'.

'Yes, Papa. I'm sorry, Papa. My bottom stings still', she added in a doleful whisper.

'And shall again, perhaps, but even so…' Easton rather muttered, being uncomfortably aware that they were now conspirators in a sense and that Ethel was still noticing that which Letitia, in her momentary excitement, had failed for once to see.-'You should dress', he said sharply, as though to cover his embarrassment and rather wishing that he had not removed his jacket long before.

'Yes, Papa', answered Ethel dutifully, and added, 'And…'

'Yes, what?' Easton asked. He wanted to turn away, but to do so would indicate that he was thoroughly conscious of his aroused state which was tenting out his trousers like the deuce.

“Th… thank you for not telling Mama', Ethel blurted, at which point she appeared to stumble and fell quite against him while her previously-clutched peignoir floated to the floor.

'Ah!' uttered who had certain reservations about Ethel which were entirely due-or had been-to her too-ready tongue. Unconsciously his hands sought and clasped the pert rear cheeks which quivered hotly to his touch, and thereat Ethel gazed up at him shyly. Her lips were parted. Pearly-white teeth showed and, between them, the pink tip of her tongue. For a delirious moment, Easton felt his hardened stem pulsing against her belly.

'Mary is bringing the pomade', he uttered hastily and loosed himself, turning away awkwardly with the outward thrusting of his erection against the straining cloth of his trousers.

'Yes, Papa', said Ethel, who was trembling deliciously.

She didn't want Mary to bring her anything. She wanted to lie down and finger her spot and remember all that had happened, even though it DID make her bottom sting. But her bottom was all warm and throbbing now, and it felt nice…

Anonymous

A Stately English Mansion

We shall, with the reader's assent, pass over the next few days during which Kate endeavoured with great wonderment to try and adjust herself to this magical transportation into an entirely new life.

She fretted much at first about her parents and her siblings, and with Mr. Sherwood's kind permission wrote them a note wherein she was tempted to say that she would be back soon. But much as she endeavoured to put in those words so even her generous heart drew back from such a promise. Nor could she say that she would 'visit' them soon, for that would have sounded too grand, and so she contented herself with simple words.

Easton, for his part, was both delighted and surprised to discover that Kate could write. In his experience, so many girls of her class were illiterate. Being much praised for her missive-of which, of course, Easton noted only the address on the folded and sealed paper-Kate explained to him that she had worked on Friday nights for a Jewish couple whose religious laws did not allow them to do so much as light their fire or set their lamps. Being a kindhearted and caring pair, they had taken much trouble to teach her to spell, in addition to giving her fourpence for her pains, and for the lessons rather than the money Kate was ever grateful.

“There are kind people in the world. I trust I may be able to introduce you to many', Easton said upon her recital. He enfolded his arm about her waist as he spoke and, moving his hand cautiously upwards, fondled one of her firm titties, which Kate felt she could scarce refuse him. The sensation was pleasant, for her nipples proved immediately responsive, though she was doubtful that Mr. Sherwood should do such a thing.

At the same time, however, she was conscious of the generosity that was being lavished upon her. Already she had three dresses, which Ethel had worn only once, much frilly underwear, two pairs of boots and one of shoes, and six pairs of fine stockings. Besides that, her wages as 'companion to Ethel' were to be a whole five sovereigns a week- an immense fortune to Kate, and most of which she resolved to save. Cook-being kind to her (and having knowing suspicions of Mr. Sherwood's true intent)-had given her a patterned tin with a lid on in which to keep her money, advising her not to keep it under her bed, where a maid would look, but 'behind the wardrobe, my girl, and that's a good place, for those lazy gels don't dust there'.

For his part, Easton had not attempted Kate as yet beyond rather furtively caressing her breasts and her noble young bottom when held so much promise of resilient bliss, and that through her attire. There was also the point that Letitia was watchful in such matters, there being an unspoken rule between them that any new girl who might help to advance Easton's financial interests might be broken in-but only once by Easton himself.

Such will seem curious to many, but upon thought being given to the matter it will be appreciated that, on Letitia's side, she had no intention of allowing her husband to have a regular harem. Or, at least, not within the purlieus of her own abode. At the same time, he sent her to Johnson whenever he wished, seeing such as her recompense for his own adventures.