“Ah, yes-at least he has done that. And where, pray, is your Papa now?”
Sir Richard, lying beneath and endeavouring not to sneeze, did indeed pray lest Helen uncover all; though in the same flash of time it occurred to him rather comfortingly that she dare not.
“Oh, Mama, I know not. He departed rapidly-I believe to the four-acre field to see that the men were working properly.”
“Very well, Helen. You should lie down. You have a touch of the fever, by the look of you.”
And with that, to the entire relief of both parties, Lady Bromley was gone, the door closing resoundingly behind her. For a long moment, Sir Richard waited and then crept out, his attire flecked with dust.
“My dearest, what a perfect little soldier you have turned out to be!” he exclaimed.
“Papa, I did not but… Oh!”
Helen's eyes had fallen down past his waist and there alighted upon the considerable rod of flesh which stemmed outward from the gap in his trousers. Its ruby head gleaming, it appeared to her mesmerised gaze much like a small barber's pole. Her Papa made no frantic attempt to conceal his rude condition, but instead took her quickly in his arms and covered her face with kisses.
Resisting not, and neither daring to make a sound, Helen received his embrace with such languour that with the swiftest and most impetuous of movements Sir Richard raised her skirt again to her hips and surged his pulsing rod against her silken belly.
Such a small, startled cry as Helen might have uttered was suppressed immediately when her lips were squashed beneath his. Trembling from head to feet, she felt the astonishing throbbing against her skin the while that his hand caressed the fervent orb of her bottom.
“You were not afraid?”
“No, Papa, for I knew you meant only to comfort me after my birching,” Helen lisped, feeling that such words were most appropriate to the occasion and perhaps would help to conceal what had passed.
“As I shall again, dearest,” whispered the hypocrite, whose hand was enjoying the most exciting tour as it encircled her bottom and even delved beneath, causing his cock to thrum ever more violently between them.
“Oh, Papa, if Mama has returned then, so must Miranda have done,” said Helen with as soft a warning tone as she could use.
Sir Richard's face assumed a solemn mien.
“You are right, my love. Such pleasurable transports as we have enjoyed must ever be discreet, must they not?”
“Yes, Papa,” Helen replied for she knew not what else to say and thereby entered into a complicity while her expression was that of an angel though her hips and belly were moving ever more alluringly to the caresses she could no longer avoid. Her lips parted submissively, the tips of their tongues touched as if by accident as his cock rubbed gently against her. Had it not been for the tight waist fastening of her drawers, Sir Richard would have swung her around onto the bed and ventured her then, but the thought of yet another interruption was too much to bear.
Bracing himself therefore and slyly maneuvering his stiff penis back into his trousers, he took regretful parting from her an instant before Miranda entered. As she did so, Helen collapsed upon the bed, her cheeks exceedingly flushed.
“Oh, Helen, are you not well?”
“Yes, dear, very, but make haste to lock the door for I am all a-bubble.” And Helen immediately loosed her drawers and thrust them off.
“Helen, how naughty you look!”
“I am sure I do, Miranda, for I feel it. I have had a birching that quite enervated me. Quickly, come now and put your lips between my legs as Pamela does!”
Chapter eight
Pamela arrived shortly at the vicarage, which stood isolated and sombre in its own grounds.
“Shall I wait for you, Miss?” the driver asked.
Pamela's heart softened at the thought that the poor man might be kept waiting an hour, for she was sure to be offered tea, at least.
“As you will, Jack, but I may be some time.”
“Very well, then, my old mother lives not far from here. With your permission, Miss, I'll pay her a brief visit and return. You'll find me waiting here as you want me.”
Entering through the gate and walking up the path took Pamela but a minute. She had rehearsed her little speech and felt it would sound very convincing. Hence when the door opened she introduced herself with a charming smile to Carrie, who stared at her in some surprise and ushered her in.
“It's a young lady named Pamela, Miss Agnes.”
“Why, yes, of course, we did not expect you yet. Pray sit down and have a glass of wine. My brother will be down in a minute. How pleased he will be to see you! Now, as to the purpose of your visit, we know well. There are merely a few details to be covered. No, my dear, you need not speak, for I well know the embarrassments of a young girl in a situation such as yours.”
“Oh, yes-well, that is very kind,” responded Pamela who was quite taken aback that news should somehow have come on ahead of her. Even so, it was nice to know that they were not put out and rose with a warm smile to greet the Vicar as he entered.
“My dear-a sincere pleasure,” he boomed, for ever since his recent orgiastic adventures, Edmund felt that he had quite come out into the world and was ready for anything. Certainly, he considered privately, he was ready for this adorable creature who was simply one of the prettiest and shapeliest girls he had ever seen.
“What a surprise that we have not seen her in the parish before, Edmund. Is she not a lovely creature!”
“Oh, but I have not been here long,” replied Pamela, whose glass was already being refilled.
“That we now understand, my dear, and so our customs and rites will also be unfamiliar to you.”
“Ah, yes, those,” Pamela answered somewhat vaguely, for she was not at all sure where the conversation was leading and she had not had time to utter her prepared piece. “But what I came about-” she began to say before Agnes rose and interrupted her.
“Come, you have no need to say it. Does it now embarrass a girl as young as you? I feel sure it must. Is it not better to express yourself in action rather than words?” said Agnes, who took her hand and drew her up.
“Oh, always, yes,” Pamela replied all too innocently. For a moment she thought that she was being led out since she found herself being conducted back into the hall, with the Vicar in close attendance behind her. Instead, however, she was turned gently at the foot of the stairs and led upward.
Thinking, perhaps that there was another and larger drawing room on the first floor, as there was at the manor, Pamela ascended with her hand continuing to be held warmly by Agnes, who looked forward as much as her brother to the lifting of the girl's skirts. Rather bewildered, therefore, Pamela found herself ensconced in the best bedroom while Edmund closed the door.
“Have you someone waiting for you?” he asked cautiously, rather than out of politesse.
“The coachman, yes.”
Agnes and he raised their eyebrows. They knew of no folk in the neighbourhood who had newly arrived and could afford a coach. But perhaps a rich uncle had hired it for the occasion, Edmund told himself. The girl looked slightly astonished already at being led up to a bedroom, but that was to be expected. She sat demurely enough with her hands in her lap and an expression of quiet waiting on her face. It was just what he wanted.
Acting exactly as they had rehearsed, Agnes sat down on the edge of the bed beside Pamela and placed an arm about her waist.
“First there is one little duty you have to perform, Pamela, and that is to kiss the sceptre.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Pamela softly who for a moment thought she could not espy one anywhere and then realised that she could (though it was not of the nature she had expected), as Edmund stepped before her and swiftly unbuttoned his trousers.
“Oh, my goodness, it is so big!” Pamela said, quite certain now that this was the price she had to pay for the news she had intended to bring but which had somehow been divulged to them already.