blankness. On and on.
I broke the rules.
'Na! Na Aaaaaah!' I choked.
Starbursts in my belly. My bottom heaved, my heels chattered on the floor. I bucked, absorbing each long inflow of sensations. Starwheels of white heat spun around my clitoris. Out-shooting tendrils of fire swept my body. My tongue protruded. A quivering cry and I slumped, stilled, vacant in frustration. The empty skylights stared at me. A swallow passed across one. Here, now, gone.
In a moment I crouched in my cage again. Amanda and I stared at one another like strangers who have too many questions to ask.
TWELVE
Were they good today?' my uncle asked that evening.
We were dressed once more in clinging dresses of the finest wool, our curves displayed. Our boots were thighboots. Stockings. Otherwise we were naked beneath.
'They played in the garden. It was sweet to see them playing in the garden,' my aunt replied.
Katherine was dressed in black-a high-necked dress. A pearl choker adorned her neck. Jenny was dressed identically. My aunt was less formal in an ordinary day gown. Amanda was absent. We sat formally.
'You may talk,' Jenny told us.
Caroline and I looked at one another. We had nothing to say. It was all in the looking. Her nipples peaked through the wool of her dress as did mine. Our globes were outlined. Katherine rose and played softly at the piano. We waited for dinner.
Katherine smiled at us. 'They do not talk very much,' she said.
My aunt inclined her head. 'No-they are lost in their dreams,' she replied. She clapped her hands. There was a tinkling, footsteps. It was Amanda. She bore a tray sparkling with glasses. A tiny white lace cap perched on the side of her glossed hair. The pale-pink of her breasts showed through a thin white blouse. The black maid's skirt that she wore had been shortened to show her thighs. With the swaying of its hem the metal rings showed, ringing her black stocking tops.
Walking to my uncle first she bent and offered him a dry sherry. The skirt rose at her bending. Her naked bottom shone pale. No one spoke. When she came to Caroline and me a flush showed on her cheeks. I posted a small smile between her lips. My look was motherly.
Jiggling her bottom cheeks selfconsciously, she left. Our eyes were pasted on the halfmoons of her bottom like mementoes of a journey.
'She will train better here than at home,' Aunt Maude said. There was a nodding.
'He will give you jewels,' Jenny said and pouted. There was laughter. I contained my own. Caroline's laugh was a small apology of nervousness. My uncle consulted his watch. There was the sound of carriage wheels beyond, a crunching of gravel. The housekeeper flurried to the door. It was Arabella. Her cloak removed in the hallway, she entered in a dull-red dress of silk with elaborate overlays of white lace about the neck. Her diamonds sent messages of light. Without a word she stepped daintily past our chairs like one who is uncertain where to sit. A glass of sherry waited at her elbow.
'The days are good,' my aunt said and smiled at her, raising her glass. Caroline and I were as invisible. 'You have passed the days well?' It was my uncle's voice.
'There was hunting,' Arabella said. She looked faintly bored, as aristocrats often affect to do. Leaning back in her chair she crossed her legs with an audible swishing of silk. 'Three girlspretty and sprightly. They ran not far. We used the walls of the enclosures and the rose garden beyond. They squealed louder than rabbits upon being caught. We pinioned them and carried them within. There were pleasantries. The gentlemen mounted them in turn. They were common girls-field-girls given to such lusts, I believe. Of no account.'
Rising, she opened her purse and took out a cigarette from a paper packet. It was not too new a habit then, but few women indulged in it in public. Her hands trembled slightly as she lit it from a candle. The aroma was Turkish.
'You have not behaved. Have you behaved?' Aunt Maude asked her. 'The reports have not been good.'
The Lady Arabella's face was blurred through smoke. Did Caroline recognise her voice?
'I did not want,' Arabella began. Then the gong for dinner sounded. We entered the dining room. Frederick and Amanda served us. Our glasses were refilled constantly. They were the finest wines. My uncle conversed with Aunt Maude and Katherine about the house, the grounds, the farm. There would be a new summerhouse, he said. I squeezed Caroline's thigh. She had the grace to blush. My aunt whispered with Arabella who occasionally shook her head.
'I did not come for this. Will there not be an entertainment?' I heard her ask.
'You know why you were sent again. Disobedience ill becomes you,' my aunt told her. Arabella glanced at us for the first time to see if we were listening. Our heads were bowed. We absorbed ourselves in lobster and Chateauneuf du Pape.
'They were blindfolded before,' Arabella muttered.
My aunt waved her hand. 'It is of no account,' she said, 'come, you must permit at least a little display.' Rising, she moved behind Arabella, bent over her and unbuttoned her dress at the front. I saw the purpose of its buttoning there. As the sides slid away her breasts were lifted out in all their splendour. Her nipples were rouged. Katherine slid her chair back and did the same to Caroline and I. Aunt Maude smiled, took her seat once more and brought a goblet of wine to Arabella's lips. Her throat worked as she drank.
'So you must sit in future when you return-it is more seemly,' my aunt told her.
Amanda entered. Frederick followed and cleared away our plates. He went out. In Amanda's hand was a silver jug.
'You have brought the cream?' Katherine asked her. 'It is warm?'
Amanda nodded. There was bemusement in her face. A cloud of unknowing lay upon her features. Her lips were rouged, her eyes shadowed. She looked beautiful, I thought. At the flaring of her skirt as she passed I saw faint pink marks upon her bottom cheeks. The hem fell like a broken promise and then lifted again. She approached Katherine's side.
'Not here-to the Lady Arabella,' Katherine said impatiently. My aunt's hands disappeared beneath the table at Arabella's side. Arabella's face suffused. Her body seemed to lift a little. There was a loud rustling of silk. Her skirt had been drawn up. Amanda's footsteps were quick, small and elegant as she moved around the long table to Arabella. She appeared to be learning quickly-in hope, no doubt, that she would be released. Would she run to the woods and hide? There would be a hunting. She would be trussed and taken home, her skirt wound upwards amid the tight cords.
'Pour,' my aunt said. She appeared to grip Arabella's hand nearest to her own beneath the tablecloth.
Arabella gave a start, her chair creaked. Amanda had bent and poured the warm, rich cream between the valley of her breasts, the deep divide. I wanted to rise and see its trickling-the white lava. I dared not.
'Be still-it will flow down-let it flow,' my aunt told Arabella.
A balloon of smoke from my uncle's cigar floated over the table. We were virginal in our sitting, Caroline and I. We looked and did not look.
'Down, girl!' my aunt said to Amanda. Their eyes clashed like rapiers. The jug was empty. Its creaming oozed its last over the lip. Falteringly Amanda placed it on the table. Her knees bent. She disappeared. Beneath the polished table of oak 1 felt her. Her bottom nudged my toe. Arabella's eyes rolled, she leaned back. A soft gasp. I could feel her legs open, guided no doubt by my aunt's busy hands. The warm cream made a white trail down between her luscious breasts and disappeared beneath the looseness of her dress where Aunt Maude had slipped the tie at her waist.
'You liked the horses?' It was my uncle's voice. He addressed me.
'Yes, Uncle.' Caroline said yes uncle in turn. The wine bottles passed. Our glasses were refilled.
'Let us be quiet for a moment,' my aunt admonished as if we had been chattering constantly. I wanted my boot to slide off to feel with my stockinged toes the bulge of Amanda's bottom as she knelt, her face most obviously
