Coy gasps issued from her at his entrance. Wearing neither drawers nor anything else save a fetching pair of boots whose shiny surfaces equally attracted his eyes, Helen made as if to cover her Venus mount, but her slim wrist was quickly swept aside.
“My love, let me feel again your bottom, your thighs, your adorable honeypot,” he breathed.
Seeming half to swoon, the nubile maiden pressed both belly and mount to the front of his breeches, thereby assuring herself that his prick was already at full stand.
“We d… d… durst not again!” stuttered Helen, while being swiftly borne back to her bed where she fell with a soft cry and readily parted thighs. Some frail form of defence was surely needed to give extra spice to the situation, as Helen well suspected. However, her defence was brief, for soon enough he was upon her, breeches down, and with the rubicund head of his cock seeking entrance between the pursed lips of her slit.
To this assault, Helen timourously assented-or so at least she made play of coyly doing-and with a fervent wriggle of her warm round bottom soon had his cock surely lodged within. Jolting the bed not a little, and having her over the edge of it in what he considered a prime position, Sir Richard pressed his balls in close to the underswell of her bottom and pecked at her ardent lips.
Sliding her pointed tongue within his mouth, Helen decided that pretence was no longer the order of the day. The sensations she was being accorded were too rapturous for dissimulation.
“Oh! is it not nice, Papa! Work it in and out, for you send me to heaven.”
“Exquisite, my pet. Draw your legs up about my waist. Ah, yes, tighten them so. Let me unlace you so that I may caress your breasts. How firmly your nipples stand!”
“You excite them so, naughty Papa. Oh! How deliciously you work it in and out. Your cock, is it not called? Do not come yet, for I want to feel every inch of it. Do you not love to fuck me now?” asked Helen, whose risen passion was loosening her tongue more and more.
“You are the t… tightest, sw… sweetest fuck I ever had, my pet,” declared her sire gallantly. Breathing heavily, he began to ram her in earnest while her bottom bounced upon his cupping hands and their lascivious tongues worked ever faster each around the other's. Thus, giving themselves up completely to the incestuous bout, neither gave thought to the fact that in his amourous haste the fond knight had quite forgotten to lock the door.
But at this point it is needful to return to Pamela, who but twenty minutes later tripped in all innocence up the wide, curving staircase. That Helen had been successfully injected she doubted not, though when that event might have occurred she was not positive and merely hoped, as has been explained, to protect that young lady from a first rude assault by the Captain.
First she hied herself to the room of Helen, who had barely recovered from two successive bouts and lay curled up on her bed somewhat drowsily with her stockings wrinkled. Sir Richard, having heard the clattering arrival of the horses in the courtyard below, had rapidly absented himself and was in course of repairing his own disorder. Helen did not stir as Pamela went quietly in. Quite in the land of dreams, she lay with her thighs apart, a pretty flush upon her face and her lovely curves roseate with health and satisfaction.
Tiptoeing to the bed so as not to awaken her, Pamela gazed with kindly pleasure upon what she saw. The erected peaks of Helen's nipples, the sultry look of satiation around her slightly parted lips, and glistening drops of the male essence adorning her pubic curls told all.
Not being minded to disturb her, Pamela retreated quietly and moved along the corridor to Miranda's room. There she hopefully expected to find that particular little treasure reading some instructive volume or lending her fingers perhaps to needlework. Instead, to her astonishment, Miranda lay clad only in a short chemise, her knees drawn up and her patently glowing bottom presented to her young governess's view.
Petulantly sobbing, she rolled over toward Pamela.
“Oh, and what is this?” demanded Pamela, who knew well enough the signs of the birch when she saw them, for Miranda's chubby cheeks were streaked by the burnishing of the soft twigs.
“B… b… b…” bubbled Miranda and cast herself into the comforting arms of Pamela, who came down beside her.
“And who has been naughty?” Pamela demanded gently. She was beginning to understand that the manor had not been one of total calm during her absence.
“Oh, P… P… Pamela, I w… went to Helen's r… room just to borrow something and oh!”
Pamela's heart beat a trifle faster, for she scarce needed to be told what Miranda had discovered. Coming upon the licentious scene as she had, Miranda had been accorded a brief but lively birching by her Papa for “peeping,” and since his cock was all a-waggle at the time, some rather merry scenes had ensued. Miranda, having her bottom well warmed, had been sufficiently aroused to have desired also to receive the fruits of Sir Richard's endeavours, but Helen-affecting jealousy-had packed her off to her room and bid her fiercely not to unveil their secrets.
“Indeed, that is so, Miranda,” Pamela assured her fervently and went on to explain that all such matters were secret and must not be divulged-save perhaps to herself, she added promptly. However, finding that her charge remained unmollified, Pamela took herself without further ado to Sir Richard's room and there lectured him quietly but sternly on his duties.
Sir Richard listened to all with bemusement, for he had now fully persuaded himself that it was Pamela alone who had put the whole house topsy-turvy and guided him into paths of unrighteousness. But this the dear girl had also anticipated and went on to speak in no uncertain manner of how things were to be regulated in the future. Her ladyship, Pamela remarked acidly, was minded solely for her own pleasures, though she was not so indiscreet as to describe them nor her own part in them. What mattered, she said, was that Sir Richard should better organise his affairs so that he reestablished himself as head of the household while she, Pamela, would advise him on his course of actions.
Rather to his own surprise, the good knight listened carefully to all. There was no doubt that Pamela was quite the most delightful girl he had ever met, and he found himself truly enchanted by what she considered the logic of her philosophy. That she intended to be his guiding light, while remaining discreetly in the background, he found not displeasing.
“Very well, my dear, I doubt not that you are right,” he concluded gravely when the maiden had finished her dissertation. She would obviously need a larger allowance-a proposal that Pamela accepted with the faintest of nods, not wishing to be seen to invite such an idea. Being quite businesslike in such matters and not ungenerous, Sir Richard offered a sum on which Pamela was persuaded to agree.
Sealing the bargain with kisses, the two stood embracing whilst Sir Richard fondled her warm bottom, this being the only caress that she accorded him. Mindful of her charges and without mentioning the name of the rascally Captain Dancer, Pamela spared not the fond knight's blushes by declaring that, Helen having been accorded Cupid's salute, Miranda must now receive the same, though thereafter they should be free to choose their own swains and to receive such injections as either freely needed.
All this being said in an equally businesslike way put a fair polish on the situation, which caused Sir Richard to take the view that his life had been considerably expanded by the intrusion of this delightful if unusual young lady whom he was minded to make his official mistress.
“That may be so or not so,” replied Pamela, who being at all times of careful disposition, was ever careful not to finally commit herself to anything. Such apparent coyness naturally increased her employer's desire for her, as she well anticipated that it might, and hence she distanced herself from his searching hands, reminding him that he must conserve himself for the hunt ball.