“What things?” Pamela asked curiously. She felt suddenly more grown up now that she was out in the world.
“That I can't tell you. There's rumours galore, but it all goes on behind closed doors when they hold these balls and things. On top of that there's the riding and hunting,” Lucy added with a sniff.
“Oh, I wouldn't want to hunt poor foxes!” Pamela exclaimed.
“I ain't sure it's the foxes wot get hunted as much as the young girls and the newly married ladies. You want to watch out, Miss.”
“That I shall,” Pamela said.
Her mind was all a-spin again now that she had heard this. However, it occurred to her that Lucy was probably exaggerating in order to make an effect. Pamela's visions of very well-to-do people-the “toffs” as they were rudely called-were exactly what Mrs. Rumple had instilled into her. Well-born people, Mrs. Rumple had often said, set the tone for Society. Their manners were always to be followed.
Pamela wondered if Lucy meant that the girls and young married women received injections during the hunting and at other times. After all, it was such a pleasure to receive them. She wondered if she dare ask Lucy, but decided not to. Toffs would not descend to telling their servants such things.
After her journey, Pamela felt quite tired, but she revived when she saw the manor house. It lay in beautiful rolling countryside and quite nestled in its own little valley. Tall elms appeared to guard it, and rooks and crows rose with a great fluttering of black wings when the carriage rolled down the long drive.
Pamela almost clapped her hands at the sight of the well-laid-out gardens which surrounded the old house and seemed to stretch forever behind it. There were rose bushes with blooms of many shades and colours, and she felt quite breathless with happiness at the thought that she would be able to smell them all.
Awaiting her arrival was a grave-looking footman dressed in black with gold braid. He helped her down and looked about for her luggage. Pamela blushed at the thought of how little she had. Mrs. Rumple had always impressed upon her to tell the truth, but after her adventures Pamela knew a little better.
“My other luggage will come later,” she said. Then she was led as gravely as ever within a hallway that was almost as large as the Rumples' drawing room. A maid appeared, neatly attired in a starched white apron and cap over a black dress.
“I will show you straight upstairs, Miss. Miss Miranda and Miss Helen are waiting to see you.”
Up the broad, curving staircase with its heavy polished rail they went. Pamela expected to find the bedrooms on the first floor, but another flight had to be climbed before they reached them. Arriving at one of the doors, the maid knocked. Almost immediately it opened.
“Oh, Miss Rumple (for all believed her to be the daughter of those who had commissioned her coming), how pleased we are to see you!” Helen exclaimed. Expecting to find an old maid, she was pleased and delighted to cast her eyes upon such a young and attractive girl.
“Oh! isn't she pretty! How glad I am you are not an old frump!” Miranda declared, bouncing forward.
Pamela found the two sisters very much as she had expected them. Miranda was a perfect cherub and possessed an exquisite figure for her age which was overshadowed only by that of her sister. Both had the same dark locks as Pamela herself. Smooth of skin and with large, liquid eyes they looked enchanting. They shared a large, cosy bedroom, and each girl had a small four-poster bed prettily draped with lace curtains. In the winter velvet drapes let down to keep them lovely and snug, they said.
As soon as Pamela had cast off her cloak, they all began to chat. Aided by a bottle of wine which Helen kept hidden at all times, they were soon as merry as three young ladies closeted alone can be. Fairly soon, though, there came an interruption. A very handsome young man entered.
“Ronald is our favourite cousin!” Miranda said proudly. She promptly threw herself into his arms and kissed him. During this sweet interval, Pamela was excited to see that Ronald's hands were straying. One found its path upward to Miranda's bubbies, which were already the size of small melons. With the other he boldly caressed her bottom.
Helen laughed and looked at Pamela.
“You see, he is very forward! He must greet you next.”
“No, it is not my turn. Two sisters must be kissed one after the other,” Pamela replied, though secretly she was agog to feel the young man's arms around her.
Then Helen jumped up and took her turn. Coiling her slender white arms about her cousin's neck, she announced the intention of giving him “the longest kiss in the world.”
“Oh, come, we shall time you, then! Let us count Miranda. One, two, three, four…”
It was the most breathless kiss Helen had ever given, but she had been dying to do it and to feel Ronald's tongue all around her own. Besides, Ronald always handled her very naughtily-much more so than he did Miranda. When their lips met, his hands immediately cupped her bottom and felt the lovely resilience of its cheeks.
Quite forgetting herself, Pamela clapped and said, “Oh, yes, hold her thus!”
“Quickly-let us pull her skirt up,” Miranda whispered. Both were sitting on one bed while the enlaced couple stood quite near them.
“No, it is too bold!”
But no sooner had Miranda jumped up than Pamela followed. Quite absorbed in her long kiss, Helen did not hear them or sense their movements until, with a shriek, she felt her skirt pulled quite up to her waist.
Ronald was delighted. He had long cherished a desire to feel properly one or other-or both-of his pretty cousins' bottoms and now the chance was his. Instantly the plump young cheeks were in his clasp, veiled only by a modest pair of drawers.
“Her drawers! Take her drawers down! Oh, Ronald, dear, be daring!”
Helen shrieked. She fought to escape from her cousin's doughty grasp, for already she could feel his stiff prick thrumming away under his trousers. It was a very naughty thing, she knew, but she had often wanted to clasp it and feel how long and thick it was. Now, however, her good upbringing came to the fore and she kicked and cried as the excited trio bore her back to the nearest bed.
Pamela could scarce contain herself. As much as she had enjoyed the rude entries of Mr. Rumple's prick in her two orifices and in her mouth, she wanted to see another girl receiving the like. Therefore, while Ronald fell to his knees and began lavishing lustful lasses upon Helen's bared thighs, Pamela sprang on to the bed and leaned over her.
“What an adorable mouth you have! Let me kiss it! Don't you want to have your injection?”
“What? Oh, stop him-he is taking my drawers down! What is an injection? Oh!”
Pamela realised her great mistake. It must be a secret, as she had been told, and it could not be if three were present. Or so she reasoned. Jumping up, she seized hold of Ronald's shoulders, although he was already in the process of loosening the ties of Helen's drawers.
“No, you bad boy, stop immediately. The game has gone far enough. Out quickly, or I shall tell Sir Richard!”
Poor Ronald leapt up, his cock standing proud in full view of all three, for he had loosened his trousers in anticipation of the event. Miranda shrieked and covered her eyes. Helen fell back, as if she had fainted.
“Out, sir, out! What is this wicked thing you show us? Put it away this instant and go!”
Quickly and rather painfully, since his cock was wound up fully like a spring, Ronald obeyed. The thought that he might be uncovered in a different way made him blanch, for he knew how stern Sir Richard could be. Mumbling such apologies as he could contrive, he fled, leaving Pamela to lock the door.
“Oh, my poor Helen, what a shock it must have given you. 'Twas but a girlish game. Forgive me!”