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The Manor And The Maiden Bound (Michaela Francis)

The Manor And The Maiden Bound by Michaela Francis

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Life has been confusing for Jennifer since her exile in Mathomdale as she is torn between the excitement of her beloved Julie and the darker passions of Baxter's whip. Now, however, a more serious matter has arisen. The young girl has come to the notice of the formidable Lady Mathom; the fabulously rich and enigmatic matriarch who is the real power in the valley. Jennifer is invited to visit the vast edifice of Mathom Hall to meet this strange, almost mythical figure, with no idea of why the woman should take such an interest in her.

Even as she prepares to meet Lady Mathom, however, Jennifer begins to come across more and more people familiar with her. There are the four young women who hold some mysterious position at Mathom Hall, the landlady of the Mathom Arms in the village and, most importantly, the beautiful Rachel who will describe, in graphic detail, her own experiences at Mathom Hall. From these sources, Jennifer begins to learn something of the true nature of Mathomdale, the curious sub-culture and dark secrets of the people within it and the real reason why Lady Mathom should be so interested in her. In horrified fascination, she feels the tendrils of enslavement beginning to close around her.

This, the second volume in the “Order of the Amethyst” saga, will take the reader on a whirlwind journey of sexuality through Mathomdale. From Jennifer and Julie's sexual adventures in the meadows, the dark sensuality of Lady Mathom's chambers and the hidden caverns of slavery in the vast cellars beneath Mathom Hall, the bizarre world of the Valley of the Goddess is tantalisingly revealed.

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 6 / 2017

No. words: 75300

Style: Erotic Domination - F/F, Erotic Domination - M/F, Male Dom - M/F

Available Formats: MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle

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Narrators note

It was inevitable that Jennifer Walstow, daughter of Katherine Carmillion of the House of Mathom, would come to the attention of the most powerful matriarch of the Line of the Goddess upon coming to reside in Mathomdale. It is only surprising, and evidence of how stealthily Jennifer had been infiltrated into the valley, that it took the Lady so long to notice her. For several weeks, the young woman had lived under the Lady's nose unnoticed and blissfully unaware of the true nature of Mathomdale and the people who lived within it. She had spent that interlude joyfully exploring her new surroundings and in exciting dalliance with her new friend Julie Hawthorne. It was a period that Jennifer would always regard as the swansong of her youth; the last of her innocence as she walked unknowingly to slavery.
Even during this period, strange forces were impinging themselves into these last days of freedom and her youthful joy was being tempered by the rising imperatives of her sexuality and clouded by the dark passions awakened by her encounters with Quentin Baxter. We may, with the benefit of hindsight, nod our heads in wry recognition of what was happening to Jennifer and in full knowledge of where her hesitant steps were leading her, but she was, as yet, incognisant of her heritage and its inevitable destiny.
This then, the second volume in this chronicle, is a story of revelations; of how Jennifer became revealed to the Line and how she herself became aware of it. This is the tale of how Jennifer awoke to the reality of the world into which she had stepped and felt the first manacles of the Goddess close upon her slender wrists.

Chapter One

Shortly after half past four in the afternoon Jennifer Walstow was cycling up the valley, away from Mathom village, in great happiness and in the company of her new friend, Julie; the young girl whose family ran the shop on the village square. It was another beautiful day in the enchanting Mathomdale and it was a joy to be abroad with her beloved. Jennifer wasn’t very good on a bicycle, however, and couldn’t match Julie’s, country girl, athleticism so she often fell behind, with Julie’s mischievous taunts ringing in her ears.
“Julie slow down for heaven’s sake. I can’t keep up.”
“Come on love! Put yer back into it! Too soft you city lasses! No stamina see.”
“I’ll show you stamina if ever I can catch you, you little wretch!”
“Oxo! Promises, promises!”
Jennifer was deeply content. Away from the looming menace of Baxter and the sudden mysterious attention of Lady Mathom, she felt free once more and delighting in the chance to explore the lovely valley with her beloved Julie. The ominous future represented by her upcoming meeting at Mathom Hall was forgotten for the moment and she was content merely to enjoy the rest of the afternoon and evening with the beguiling younger girl who was coming to mean so much to her.
Jennifer had changed clothes since their meeting on the square; slipping on a simple, light, pale rose coloured, cotton dress that fell below the knees. Her mount, Mrs Appleton’s bicycle, was an old-fashioned lady’s machine giving ample clearance for her longish skirt. Julie rode a more demanding mountain cycle type bike and, with the elastic waisted, ridiculously short and loose white skirt she was wearing, would have been in great danger of advertising the yellow knickers, she wore beneath to match her yellow top, to any passing motorists had there been any on the country lanes up to Woodman’s Bluff. Jennifer had admonished her on this choice of skirt.
“Julie that’s far too short! You can’t go biking with that on. You’ll be showing your pants all the way up the valley!”
“Be nobody about Jen love. Any road it’s t’ only way I can keep cool down there every time I think on what I’m gonna do to yer in t’ first bramble patch we can find!”
“I despair of you Julie! I truly do.”
“That’s a nice frock Jen. I see yer took my advice. Won’t tek a sec to get that on and off.”
“I’m not wearing a bra either Julie so are you happy now?”
“Neither am I so it’ll be a bit bouncy goin’ up them ‘ills!”
“You’ll wobble more than me! Anyway, I’ve got an excuse for not wearing a bra because it would show with this dress. You’ve just left yours off to be lascivious!”
“Where d’ yer get these words from Jen? Just call us a slut an’ ave done!”
“Oo! Listen to madam ‘ere! When I get yer some place quiet miss I’m gonna torment yer until yer tell me that we’s two sluts together.”
So, the girls cycled on in laughing banter until finally reaching the crest of a small hill and the drop down into the secluded meadow by the river under Woodman’s Bluff. Pushing their cycles across the meadow they took in the lovely beauty of the place in the late afternoon sunshine. The grass on the meadow was short and bedecked with wild flowers alive with butterflies, bees and hover-flies. Large boulders were strewn about the meadow and, leaning their cycles against a tree, they unloaded their baskets from the racks and made for one boulder close to the river. Both girls kicked off their shoes, delighting to feel the soft turf under their bare feet. Julie had brought an old blanket. They lay this out on the ground and fell to opening their baskets. Neither girl had eaten at home and the long ride up the valley had made them ravenous.
“Gawd! I’m starvin’ Jen. ‘Ere let’s get this wine open. ‘Ope yer don’t mind red but we ‘ad more of it in stock and I thought it wouldn’t be missed as much.”
“Julie you’ve brought two bottles! We’ll be absolutely pie faced getting home!”
“I’ll get you ‘ome sweet never mind or we’ll just ‘ave to sleep out ‘ere for t’ night.”
“Hmm wouldn’t that be lovely sleeping out here under the stars?”
“Be flippin’ cold!”
“I’m sure we could think of some way of keeping warm!”
“There now! It’s you bein’ lascivvy or whatever it is!” Julie opened the wine with a dexterity that made Jennifer suspect that she’d done this rather more times than was proper for a girl of age seventeen and then said, “Pass us that parcel Jen I’ve got t’ glasses in there.” Jennifer unwrapped the parcel and found a pair of exquisite lead crystal goblets residing inside.
“Julie you’ve pinched these out of your mum’s cabinet!”
“Nowt but the best fer my sweet Jenny.” And Julie poured the rich ruby red liquid into the glasses and handed one to Jennifer.
“Here’s to us Jenny my love.”
“To us Julie.” And the girls sipped at the rich aromatic wine and then leant forward; kneeling to taste its tart fruitiness on each other’s lips. The kiss lingered, the silence of it only broken by the rushing of the river still swollen from the rain of yesterday. Eventually Julie broke away.
“Whew! Come on! Food first ‘anky panky later! I could eat an ‘oss.”
The food was as delicious as food can only be when sitting on the ground in the outdoors in a beautiful place in the company of a loved one. There were sandwiches filled with ham, tongue and spicy salami in crusty farmhouse bread. Jennifer had brought a cold roast chicken beautifully marinated and seasoned by Mrs Appleton, whose cooking was renowned, and a tangy rhubarb tart. There was a golden, smoky cheese, pickles and sticks of crisp celery. There was a potato salad and ripe tomatoes from the Appleton’s greenhouse, a small air-dried Parma ham and a jar of green olives. Julie had brought a tub of fresh whipped cream, yoghurt and a big basket of strawberries. It was a feast. With knives and paper platters and a supply of paper napkins the two girls fell to.
That picnic with Julie was the best fun Jennifer had ever had in her life. They paused often to kiss or exchange caresses and their laughter rippled like flowing water through the peaceful meadow. Neither Jennifer nor Julie had much of a tolerance for alcohol and after the second glass of wine they were both tipsy. Their meal became more chaotic and intimate by the minute.
“Try one o’ these sandwiches pet.” said Julie slyly. Jennifer took the proffered offering and then hurled it back at Julie.
“Julie Hawthorne! You ... you …”
“Go on Jen call us summat rude!” Julie said rolling on the ground in helpless laughter. It was a cucumber sandwich.
“Wretched girl!” said Jennifer unable to stop laughing.
“D’ yer want a strawberry Jen?”
“Yes please!”. Jennifer loved strawberries and, as Julie knew, was greedy for them.
“Then yer’ll ‘ave to come and get it then!” Julie said dipping the fruit into the cream and then holding it between her teeth. Jennifer laughed and took Julie by the shoulders lowering her mouth onto Julie’s and the two shared the fruit between them the juices smearing their lips and faces. After that they shared half of the rest of the basket until they were obliged to wipe their faces clean of a mess of cream and juice, giggling helplessly.
“Ave yer tried this yoghurt Jen?” Julie said holding out a spoonful.
“No but undoubtedly I’m about to!”
With a nervous glance around Julie lifted her top and smeared the yoghurt onto the nipple of her left breast. “Try it Jen! It’s nice!” Jennifer grinned with loving pleasure at her irrepressible lover and bent forward to lick and suck the sharp tasting, creamy, viscous liquid from Julie’s nipple, feeling her shiver under the touch of her mouth and Julie’s hand in her hair as she held her to her breast. Julie felt a moment of great tenderness holding Jennifer’s head in that position, almost a maternal feeling wherein the arousal tingling in her breast was overlaid by some deep mothering love for the soft childlike creature suckling at her nipple. Sighing in profound gratification, she lifted Jennifer’s face from her breast and leant down to wash the sticky yoghurt clean from the lovely heart shaped innocence of it with her tongue.
“Jenny baby. I’ve never felt this way in me life!”
“Nor I Julie.”
“I want yer t’ taste me Jenny. I mean really taste me! I want yer to eat me.”
“I don’t know if I can manage a whole you Julie!”
Julie laughed “Aye but yer can manage a bit my love! Watch!” With that Julie reclined back on the grass and removed another strawberry from the basket. She lifted the short skirt high and, holding the fruit, slipped her hand to her crotch. Deliberately she pulled aside the elastic of her knickers, holding it well clear in order that Jennifer could see exactly what she was doing, and rubbed the small red fruit on her sex, inserting it slightly into her vagina, withdrawing it, glinting with her moistness. Like a communion offering in a church, she lifted the fruit to Jennifer’s lips, holding it there so that Jennifer could scent the strawberry aroma mingled with the pungent intimacy of Julie’s sex. Jennifer obediently opened her mouth for the offering as Julie pushed it between her lips, their eyes fixed on each other as if the moment was one of great solemnity and symbolic significance. Once Jennifer had taken of the fruit Julie clasped her mouth to hers and the two girls shared the crushed strawberry and its combination of sweetness, acidity and the saltiness of Julie’s female juice. Julie took another strawberry from the basket, pressed in into Jennifer’s hand and, in a voice husky with arousal, said “Your turn love.”
Jennifer looked at her and sought a further intimacy, an escalation of the mounting desire between them. Reaching under her dress she slipped her knickers off and over her ankles. Then lifting her dress, she exposed herself to her lover with wide spread legs and partially inserted the fruit into herself leaving a hint of its redness peeking from her vagina.
“Now you eat.” she commanded.
With a soft murmur Julie leaned forward. Jennifer shuddered in pleasure as Julie’s mouth sought out the strawberry and biting it between her teeth released its juices onto Jennifer’s sex, then licking it up with languid strokes of her tongue. painting the pink folds and crevasses a bright red with strawberry juice.
Julie raised her head, her mouth now scarlet with the berry’s liquid and said hoarsely, “Look love if we’re goin’ to carry on like this we’d better find somewhere a bit better ‘id. It’s a bit open ‘ere!” Jennifer chuckled deep in her throat and with a grin redolent of mischievousness contradicted her lover.
“No not yet my darling. There’s something I want to do. In fact, I’ve wanted to this for a while,”
“Wot’s that Jenny love?” Smiling wickedly Jennifer reached into her pack and withdrew her pastel crayons and her sketch pad.
“I want to draw you!”
“Oh ‘eck Jenny love! I don’t know about that. I’ve never ‘ad me portrait done before.”
“Nevertheless, you are going to have it done now! I’ve wanted your picture for a long time. If you’re really good I might let you have the picture as a wedding present.”
“All right then.” said Julie resignedly “Ow do yer want me?”
“Well naked for a start. So, get those clothes off!”
Julie’s eyes widened in alarm. “‘Ave yer tekken leave of yer senses love? There’s a public ‘ikin’ trail over t’ river. Wot if someone comes along?”
“Then they’ll see my beautiful Julie laid out without a stitch on! We’ll tell them it’s for artistic purposes! Now strip!”
“No ‘onest Jen someone might come along.”
“Perhaps somebody will and then again there might be somebody watching from the trees up on the bluff. Perhaps a gorgeous little blond girl that needs to be taught a lesson! Whoever is watching however is going to see you completely naked, lying on the grass against that boulder. So now do as you are told and take your clothes off!”
“Yer serious aren’t yer?”
“I am indeed and I’m still waiting for you to disrobe.”
“Oh flip! All right but this is an ‘ell of a spot to get all arty on me. Fer Gawd’s sake mek it quick!”
“Art will not be hurried. It will take as long as it takes.”
Julie drew off her top nervously. Jennifer snatched it away and flung it yards from them across the meadow.
“What are yer doin’?”
“Just making sure that you aren’t tempted to grab at your clothes with the slightest little possibility of disturbance. Your skirt now please!”
“Fer cryin’ out loud Jenny yer’ve gone nuts!”
“Off with it!” With a muttered oath Julie complied reluctantly. The skirt joined her top in flight over the meadow. “And the rest if you please.” Finally, in great self-consciousness Julie divested herself of the yellow knickers and sat there with her arms folded around herself attempting to conceal her nudity. Jennifer’s instructions were implacable however. “Ok! Very good. Lean back against the rock. Hands out of the way now. Open your legs wide and lift the left one. I want your left hand on your breast. Cup it and take the nipple in your fingers. Let me arrange your hair.” Jennifer draped Julie’s hair about the rock and leaned her head back slightly, standing back to examine the position critically. “Look straight at me. Don’t lower your eyes. I want your mouth slightly open now. Yes, just like that.”
“Jenny this is crazy! I feel like a right prat ‘ere!”
“Feeling is right Julie dear! Place your right hand between your legs!”
“Oh ‘ell!”
“Now masturbate.”
“You heard me Julie. I want you to masturbate. I want to draw you whilst you masturbate yourself.”
“Jenny, I can’t! not wi’ you watchin an’ all.”
“You’ve watched me masturbate before, so now you can do it for me. I want to capture your arousal on paper. I want you to masturbate to climax Julie. All the way. But do it slowly. Take your time because I have to get all the background and your body right before you climax. Then when it’s all perfect I want to get the final details just as you orgasm. Don’t come too early. I’ll tell you when you can climax but not before.”
“Oh Jenny I’m too shy!”
“Hmmph! You? Shy? Julie Hawthorne! Come along now get on with it.”
“Be a good girl and do as you are told. You’ll have to be a bit more obedient than this after we’re married.”
“Oh, flip pin’ ‘eck!” Julie moaned but she obeyed and began to stroke herself.
“Not too fast now honey. Just use a couple of fingers. I don’t want you to fig leaf yourself. That’s good. Very good.”
Julie was suffering pains of embarrassment whilst Jennifer took up her drawing materials and began to work; looking up frequently to observe her subject critically. Jennifer didn’t seem excited by watching Julie’s self-manipulation but remained very cool and detached occasionally frowning as she tried to sketch in the exact impression of her lover’s prostrate body against the rock. She was using the darker crayons to outline Julie’s frame and switching to soft flesh tones and ruddy hues to convey the texture of the skin. She was trying hard to show the deep contrast between the deep pink flesh of Julie’s sex and the slim white hand of her fingers as she caressed it. The pink tone was carried up onto Julies nipples and areolae under the touch of Julie’s other hand. The blond hair she drew in soft honey colours, cascaded against the grey rock of the boulder, and she placed its match in the curled bush deep in Julie’s groin above her right hand. Jennifer sketched dispassionately wanting to perfectly convey the proportions of Julie’s body and to picture the impression of Julie’s mounting arousal.
Julie, in spite of herself was becoming aroused. The somewhat mechanical obedience of her early movements had slowly melted into a long slow, circular caress of her clitoris. There was something indefinably submissive and deliciously wanton in displaying herself so openly before the frigid artistic observation of Jennifer, picking up crayons and discarding them and shifting her head about to better judge the angles and proportions. In a sense Julie had never given herself so completely to another person and her surrender of her will to Jennifer’s cool detachment enhanced her excitement. The rushing of the river was a faint rumble in the background and her senses became focussed on the fast shallow draws of her own breath and the squeaking scratches of Jennifer’s crayons on the sketch pad. Her body began to tremble uncontrollably and her breath now came in gasps.
“Slowly now Julie! Slowly”
“I can’t ‘old much longer Jen!”
“Yes you can! Take your time. If you’re too close stop for a second or two and let yourself regain composure.”
“Oh Christ!”
Julie was busy portraying the flush of blood into Julie’s skin as the ardour mounted. She meticulously rubbed in the rising flush in soft glowing pinks; detailing the ruddy blushes of the face spreading down through the neck to encompass Julies breasts as its equivalent flared out from her groin and the inside of her thighs across her belly. There was a distinct pattern to this reddening of the skin, she noted, as if the flow of blood to the outer skin matched with the most sensitive regions of Julie’s erogenous zones. Julie’s lips seemed brighter red with this enhanced blood flow, almost in harmony with the deep ruddy colours of her sexual organs. The deep stain of blood soaked outer skin made her look slightly blotched her face, neck, breasts and inner thighs standing out in reddened contrast with the paler areas of her body.
“Jenny! ‘Urry fer ‘eaven’s sake!”
“A bit longer Julie. Calm yourself!”
“I’m goin’ ter ‘ave ter come!”
“Not until I give you permission! Just a little while longer.” Julie moaned in growing frustration, her desire held at knife edge under Jennifer’s icy control. She was moaning aloud now and sobbing audibly, begging release, but Jennifer remained implacably adamant. “A couple more minutes. You can hold a couple more minutes.”
“Oh please Jenny! Please!”
“No! Hold still! Don’t you dare come yet!”
Julie was nearly insane, her body screaming for relief, yet somehow she held herself on the brink almost beginning to fear the coming inevitable eruption. Jennifer was nearly finished, nearly satisfied with her artistic impression of Julie’s suppressed convulsion. It seemed to her as if she had pictured someone in the throes of a silent scream. She remembered how Julie under Baxter’s whip had shown just such a moment of agonised silence as if building enough breath within her lungs for that one final terrible wail of agony. In a moment of insight she realised that such an agony and such a delirium of orgasm were but two different faces of the same thing. That Julie’s taut tense face would look the same under the torment of applied ecstasy and the exquisite pain of a wielded whip. For long seconds she gazed in fascination at Julie’s demented ordeal, wanting to capture the moment in her mind for ever. Then she wanted to hear Julie scream; wanted her to howl at her command and so at last she relented.
“You have my permission to orgasm!”
So close was Julie that it required only a couple of swift strokes before her body contorted throwing her back against the rock, her back arched convulsively. For three long seconds she could only manage a strangled nasal sound between clenched teeth before she threw her head backwards and broke the tranquillity of the pasture in a wild wailing scream that reverberated from the overhanging cliffs as she thrashed in dreadful spasms on the short grass.
It seemed to last forever that awful shriek but finally Julie was lying face down on the turf her torso heaving as she gulped air into her lungs, sobbing between the gasps. Jennifer overcome with the intensity of the passion of the instant threw her own dress off and, naked drew Julie into her arms, holding her sweat drenched face to her bosom.

Author Information

Michaela is a UK author based in Yorkshire. Born in the city of York, Michaela spent many years travelling throughout Europe during a career as an entertainer before returning to the UK to study for a Masters degree in history. The author of several novels and many short stories, as well as several works of non-fiction, Michaela's style mixes romance, fantasy and eroticism in a rich blend of well researched authenticity and descriptive imagination. Widely travelled, multi-lingual and multi-cultural, Michaela draws upon her own experiences and adventures to enhance the diversity of her writing while adhering to Tolkein's mantra "the inner consistency of reality" to bring realism and credibility to the imaginary worlds she creates.


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