Chapter Two
Five months passed slowly as Emma concentrated on her work as a conservator at the local museum and it was only when an email chimed abruptly into her account one day that she remembered about her holiday. With an air of anticipation, Emma opened the mail, green eyes scanning the text swiftly, and then she occupied herself for several minutes confirming what she had sent them before. It was tedious and got on her nerves a little bit but she managed to restrain her impatience as she typed away. Finally it was done and she clicked the mouse and sent her reply winging its way through the ether.
Four weeks later and Emma was on her way. She had been quite excited packing the night before and it had been a hard decision as to what she should take with her. In the end she had settled for some clothes for relaxing around in and a lot more formal attire which she had picked up in dress shops and second hand shops. The latter consisted of long dark skirts and ruffled blouses along with some jet jewellery and silver brooches, all of which, her research intimated, the Victorians had worn. A pair of buttoned up ankle boots completed her wardrobe and she thought that she would make a splendid Victorian lady as she dragged the case out to her Mini and slotted it into the minuscule boot. A corset would have been perfect, she thought as she drove along and then she blushed as she remembered looking on the internet for such items and finding herself being sucked into a world of darkness and depravity.
The sites had been positively scandalous and yet strangely exciting and she shivered at the memory of seeing one tall blonde girl naked but for a very tight corset and gartered stockings kneeling down to receive a cane across her bare cheeks. It had led into depravity too as Emma had found it impossible to resist leaving the picture on her computer screen and her fingers had slipped into her panties and teased her clit out from under its protective little hood of flesh. Her green eyes had stared fixatedly at the picture as her fingers had rubbed furiously at her swollen nub and she had come within a couple of minutes, panting and squealing in delight as the rich rewarding feelings rushed through her body. Afterwards she had felt guilty as usual, remembering her upbringing and she had punished herself by wearing her most unflattering and uncomfortable knickers for the next two days and banning herself from using the computer.
A sign for the village mentioned in the instructions flashed by and she turned left sharply, annoying a following car as she did not have time to indicate. Ignoring the sound of the horn, she drove on slowly, snatching a quick glance at the printed instruction sheet which was taped to the dashboard by her broken satnav. It had taken her a lot longer than she had anticipated as the place seemed to be well off the beaten track and it was now late afternoon. Another few seconds passed and then she caught sight of the impressive lion-mounted stone gateway mentioned in her instructions and she swung off the road just past it and parked the car in a little lay-by as she had been told to do. She rang the number on her mobile and a cold, clear voice informed her that she would be picked up shortly so Emma stepped out of the car and removed her case from the boot, glad that the sun was still out as the minutes ticked by.
Eventually she heard a strange clip-clopping sound and she stared in surprise as a horse-drawn cart emerged from the gateway and drew up alongside her.
"Miss Fletcher?" inquired the bearded man driving the cart and she nodded, studying his attire and admiring its Victorian verisimilitude.
"On the cart then please, miss," he added before he jumped down and hefted her case up on to the back easily.
"Thank you," she responded politely then sat next to him at the front and watched the massive rump of the jet-black shire horse as it twitched into action and effortlessly pulled the cart along. They turned back in through the gates and trundled up the drive, spraying gravel out from under the red-rimmed iron wheels and Emma found herself growing excited as she waited for the house to come into view. First came chimney tops then the roof and finally as they topped a small rise, she saw the beauty of the Bath stone, a golden gleaming colour in the sunshine and she gasped in delight.
"It's beautiful," she whispered and the man next to her nodded in agreement before adding, "That it be, miss, but it does take a lot of maintenance."
"I'm sure it does," stated Emma. "Though the prices for your holidays are very reasonable."
"So you must be here on one of our special deals then," chuckled the cart driver and there was just a hint of something in his tone that made Emma cast him a quick and concerned glance. Then the cart was drawing up in the stable block and she never had a chance to ask him what he was intimating as she was hustled inside along with her case and found herself in front of an imposing lady clad all in black.
