Morina And The Switching Spell Ch 09

Morina and the Switching Spell Ch. 09

Chapter 9: A fairytale day at Ayresdon Manor.

21 May 1944, Sunday, a little after 4:30 AM.

The sound of cabinet doors opening and closing followed by a chair scraping against the floor woke me up. I opened my eyes, but I couldn't see a thing. It was still dark.

"Who's there?" I called out.

The sound of metal utensils rang out as they clattered onto the floor.

"Oh shit! You frightened me!" Agatha's startled voice responded in the dark.

"Aggie! What the fuck?" Amanda complained nearby.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you," Agatha said, her voice regained some composure.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"It's still early. I have to go back to Ashford and deliver some documents. I'll try to be quieter and let you get back to sleep," she offered.

"I'm too excited to get back to sleep. All I can think about is spending the day at Ayresdon Manor," I replied.

"I'm sure you're going to have a great time. Horseback riding sounds like great fun," Agatha commented.

"I heard that dinners there were eloquent, and the food was divine," Amanda added. Judging from the location of her voice, she was probably still in bed.

"Eloquent dinners? Oh, crap! In all my excitement I forgot all about my outfit. I don't have anything to wear!" I panicked.

"I'm sure Lord Ayresdon would prefer you that way," Amanda said, giggling.

"Mandy don't be crude," Agatha scolded.

"Agatha, we're about the same size, do you have any outfits I could borrow?" I asked, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.

Agatha turned on the lamp and the room was suddenly flooded with light.

"Argh! Not that bloody light again," Amanda complained. She was in bed and pulled the blanket over her head.

"The only decent outfit I have is a black dress, but it might be a little tight up top for you," she said, walking towards the closet.

She pulled out the dress and held it up on the hanger.

"It's a lovely evening dress, but not the sort of thing you can spend the day horseback riding in," she said.

"Horseback riding! I forgot about that. Back in Salem, I have a pair of denim jeans. Do you have anything like that?" I asked.

"I'm afraid not. That's not the type of material women wear here," Agatha responded.

"I don't have anything like that either, not that any of my clothes would fit you," Amanda spoke from under the blanket.

"What am I going to do?" I asked.

"Based upon the agenda in that letter, you're going to need a couple of different outfits. I'm sure Lord Ayresdon will come up with something. You can't be the first guest he's had with wardrobe concerns," Agatha suggested reassuringly.

"This is terrible. Maybe I should cancel," I panicked.

"Don't do that. We both know how much you're looking forward to this," Agatha replied.

"I don't know. What should I do?" I asked.

Amanda pulled the blanket down and sat up.

"GO!" Agatha and Amanda both shouted.

With everyone awake Agatha made a pot of oatmeal, and we had an early breakfast before she left. I was still fussing about what to wear and Amanda did her best to calm me down, but I was too wound up.

At seven, the two of us took a walk to a café that opened early on Sunday mornings. It was quite a few blocks away, but the walk helped to settle me a bit. I checked out the few clothing stores along the way, but being Sunday morning, they were all closed. Not that I could have afforded anything even if they were open.

At the café, we treated ourselves to coffee. Amanda bought a pastry to share, but I was still too excited to eat more than a couple of bites. We lingered as long as I could stand it before heading back.

I took a shower and that helped. Then I cleaned my uniform, but 10 AM couldn't come fast enough for me.

It was sunny and pleasantly cool as I waited outside in my WASP uniform when a black Rolls Royce pulled up to the front of the building.

The driver got out and stood by the rear door and asked, "Miss Spellman?"

"Yes, I'm she. I mean I'm her," I said, nervously.

"Lord Ayresdon sent me, Miss," he said politely as he opened the door.

I hesitated.

"I'm afraid this is all I have to wear," I said, anxiously.

There was a barely perceptible change in the corners of his mouth, as if he was suppressing a smile.

"No worries, Ma'am. Lord Ayresdon understands," he said in a flat monotone.

I got into the back of the car, and we sped off.

The seats were plush leather and smelled wonderful, but I was too excited to sit back as I looked out the window and watched the London streets fly by. Pedestrians looked at the car as we passed them, no doubt wondering who was inside. I looked back at them nervously, anticipating this new adventure.

Once outside London, I spent more time looking at the back of the driver's head. After about five minutes or so, the silence was killing me.

"My name is Morina. What is yours?" I asked, leaning forward.

"Robert, Ma'am," he answered politely.

"Have you worked for Lord Ayresdon long?" I asked.

"Yes, Ma'am." He answered politely.

I blew a small strand of hair that had come out of place out of exasperation. Robert clearly wasn't much of a conversationalist. Or maybe he wasn't used to passengers talking with him. In either case, I thought I would try again.

"How long have you been working for Lord Ayresdon?" I asked.

"Five years, Ma'am," he answered perfunctorily.

"What can you tell me about Lord Ayresdon, Robert?" I asked.

"He's a pleasant employer, Ma'am," he answered in that same expressionless tone.

I sat back in exasperation. It was clear that any conversation with Robert would be limited.

I spent the remainder of the ride staring out the window. I hadn't noticed how many churches and houses had been bombed by Nazi planes and rockets along the route yesterday when I traveled with Agatha. But yesterday Agatha and I had been chatting with each other the entire 2 hours. It was only when we reached the front gate to Ayresdon Manor that all traces of the war seemed to have disappeared.

Robert got out of the car and opened the gate manually. It was clear that he was not a magical.

As we drove up to front door of the manor house, there was Lord Ayersdon—John, waiting for me at the bottom of the stone steps.

"Good morning, Morina!" he called pleasantly as Robert opened the door and I stepped out of the car. "I hope you had a pleasant trip."

"Yes, I did. It was my first ride in a Rolls," I replied, enthusiastically.

He stepped forward and grasped my hand and gave me a light kiss on my cheek. I tingled from the kiss, and I'm sure my cheeks flushed.

"If you'll come with me, my chef has prepared a light lunch for us. The weather is perfect for dining on the terrace unless you would prefer to eat inside," he said, leading me up the steps towards the front door.

"The terrace sounds perfect," I replied, following him inside.

The grandfather clock in the foyer chimed twelve times as we walked across the tiled floor.

Lunch was a fresh salad with the chef's own vinaigrette dressing followed by cucumber sandwiches with a creamy chive mayonnaise. It was light enough to enable us to do the physical activity of horseback riding afterwards without still feeling hungry.

The conversation at lunch was equally light, centering around food and the weather before it turned to me, my brother, and growing up in Salem. Throughout our lunch, Lord Ayresdon insisted I call him by his first name, and I felt comfortable with him calling me by mine.

It wasn't until Charles was clearing away our lunch plates that I became conscious of my outfit again.

"John, I'm afraid this is the only outfit I brought with me to England. I hadn't planned on staying in England this long and I didn't think I would need any other outfits if I were to work at the airfield," I explained.

"I took the liberty of having a few outfits prepared for you. I trust you'll find them in your size and to your liking," he said, getting up and offering me his hand.

I followed him into the manor and up to the second floor, where he led me to one of the bedrooms. There he stopped outside the door.

"I have reserved the use of this room for you. I think you'll find all the clothes in the armoire will fit you. I had my maid Henrietta lay out a riding outfit on the bed, but if you desire another style, I'm sure she can find something to suit your tastes," he said.

"Thank you. You seem to have thought of everything," I noted.

"Do you think you'll need Henrietta's assistance in getting dressed? I can ring for her if you'd like," he added.

"I don't think that will be necessary. I'm sure I can manage," I responded.

In actuality, I had never worn a riding outfit before. I didn't even know what a riding outfit was, but I was determined to make a good impression on my host.

"Very well. I shall change as well and meet you in the foyer when you're ready. I've already asked Wesley my groom to bring the horses around. They should be ready for you when you're dressed," he said.

The bedroom was impeccably decorated, like everything else in the manor. The walls were painted an antique rose color, with complementary light blue drapes and deep red carpeting. The armoire was made of a rich walnut and dominated one side of the room while the bed with its rose-colored duvet and fluffy white pillows dominated the other.

Laid out on the bed was an exquisite riding outfit, complete with a soft, white cotton shirt, yellow riding pants, white cotton stockings, a green tweed riding jacket, and a black riding cap. On the floor beside the bed were a pair of tall, black leather riding boots.

I put on the shirt first and found the fit to be perfect. The pants were next, and they were tight-fitting, but comfortable. The snugness in the crotch and seat set off my figure nicely. It was only after I had the pants on that I realized I should have put the stockings on first.

It took me some time to peel off the tight pants before I could pull the stocking over my feet and calves. After correcting that mistake, I carefully slipped the boots on. They fit my feet without pinching and they were comfortably tight against my calves. When I picked up the jacket, there was a leather riding crop underneath it.

After donning the jacket and tucking my hair under the riding cap, I examined the result in the mirror on the armoire. I looked every bit the English lady ready for a ride in the park.

I resisted the urge to bound down the staircase with enthusiasm, where John was waiting. He was dressed in a similar fashion, except with white breeches and boots that only came halfway up the calves.

"You look absolutely stunning! The outfit sets off your figure nicely," he exclaimed.

"Thank you, John. I only wish my riding skills are as good as this outfit looks on me," I responded with a smile.

"I'm sure you will be fine. I've asked Wesley to prepare Victoria for you. She's a gentle mare who loves to please her rider," he exclaimed.

The horses were waiting outside. Victoria was a large chestnut mare and Wesley assisted in helping me into the saddle. Once secure and with the reins in hand, John led the way to the bridle path. After that, we rode side by side as he pointed out various aspects of gardens, plants, and trees.

Having ridden a horse only twice before, and both times as a child, I had forgotten about the feel of the horse moving underneath the saddle. In those tight breeches, I quickly found myself getting aroused from the material gently pressing against my hips and crotch as the large mare moved beneath me.

I did my best to focus on the sculpted gardens and luscious lawns along the way, despite an increasing awareness of the growing moisture between my legs.

By the time the path took us through a wooded area, I was getting delirious from the stimulation. My nipples were sensitized and the weight of the riding jacket, as light as it was, added to my overall state of arousal. When we came to a white gazebo in a secluded part of the woods, John stopped and looked over at me.

"Are you alright, my dear? You look flushed. Would you like to stop and rest?" he asked, with a look of concern on his face.

"That might be a good idea," I replied, hoping the break would allow me to regain some composure.

My body seemed to tingle all over from the stimulation.

John quickly dismounted and stood by as I tried to do the same. But I misjudged Victoria's height and would have fallen to the ground if John hadn't been there to catch me. I suddenly found myself in his arms, looking up at his face. In catching me, he had one hand on my breast, and my body melted against him.

I reached behind his neck and pulled his head down and kissed him, slipping my tongue between his lips. He welcomed me, squeezing my breast gently while wrapping his other arm around me in a tight embrace. I moaned softly into his mouth, and he held me closer. I felt his hardness against my mons, and I moaned again.

When we finally broke the kiss, I looked deep into his baby blue eyes.

"I-I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I'm not the type—" I began.

He bent his head and pressed his lips against mine and his tongue slid past my lips. I closed my eyes and welcomed his tongue, enjoying the sensation of its smooth texture against my lips. I moaned again and slid my mons slightly up and down against the front of his pants, feeling his erection against me.

He moaned and squeezed my breast in return. Oh my god, that felt good. I had to feel him.

I slipped my hand around to the front of his pants, and felt his stiffness, rubbing in response to the gentle squeezes on my breast. I wanted him.

We broke the kiss and again I looked into his eyes and saw the lust inside them. That intense look startled me and made me wonder how far I was willing to go.

"I wanted to kiss you from the moment I first saw you," he said, breathing heavily.

He crushed his lips against mine again, parting them slightly, inviting my tongue into his mouth. I accepted his invitation and he sucked on my tongue seductively.

I moaned into his mouth as one hand on my back held me tight against his chest while the other hand slid lower, cupping the cheeks of my ass, and pressing my mons against his firm erection. My hands found their way underneath the back of his jacket and felt his firm back muscles.

While I held him, he moved his hands and was slipping my jacket over my shoulders. He broke the kiss and took a step backwards, slipping the jacket down my arms before working the buttons on the front of my shirt.

I was both horny and frightened at the same time. I had barely met the man and knew almost nothing about him. Was I really ready to give myself up to him so easily? Yes, I wanted him, but that intense look of lust in his eyes and the speed of his pace surprised me.

"Aren't you rushing things a bit?"

Those were my mother's words to me last night.

Suddenly, the spell was broken. I looked him in the eye and placed my hand over his to stop him from unfastening any more buttons.

"I'm sorry. It's too soon. This is too fast. I need to breathe," I panted. I stepped back, looking away from him.

He placed his hand on my shoulder.

"I should be the one to apologize. I didn't mean to rush you," he said sincerely.

I turned back to look at him.

"Please, give me time . . .You . . . This . . . It's all too perfect. I just need time to take it all in," I said, feeling overwhelmed.

"Of course. I . . ." his voice faded. He had stepped back and was looking down my body, but when he got to my crotch, he stopped in mid-sentence. A suppressed smile crossed his face.

I looked down, but it was difficult to see past my breasts. I slid my hands down the front of my pants and felt a wet spot over the crotch.

"Oh no!" I exclaimed and turned around to hide the spot.

I whipped out my wand and pointed it at the front of my pants.

"Scourgify!" I incanted, and the spot was gone.

"Perhaps we should head back to the manor house. It is nearly tea time and my chef serves an excellent tea," he said, discretely changing the subject.

"I would enjoy that," I replied, and he helped me back into the saddle.

We retraced our route, and to avoid the sensuous chafing against the saddle, I stood on the stirrups through most of the ride back to the manor. I chastised myself for not thinking to do it earlier.

Wesley was waiting for us when we got back, and he helped me dismount. This time, I didn't misjudge the distance. I thanked him as I handed him the reins.

"We'll have tea in the conservatory," John said to Charles as he held the door open for us.

"Very good, sir," Charles replied in his usual respectful monotone.

"I asked Henrietta to lay out the tea dress I picked out for you. I hope you like it," he said as he walked with me to the staircase.

An elderly woman in a black and white maid's outfit was waiting for me when I got back to my room.

"G'afternoon Ma'am," she said as she curtsied.

"Are you Henrietta?" I asked.

"Yes, Ma'am," she said.

She directed my eyes towards the bed. Spread out was a beautiful, light, floral dress. It was emerald green with large yellow flowers.

"His Lordship picked out this tea dress for you, Ma'am. I can see now how it matches your eyes, begging your pardon, Ma'am," she said.

"It's beautiful!" I marveled.

"May I help you with your boots, Ma'am?" she asked politely.

The boots! I had forgotten how difficult they were to get on. Getting them off, especially with my feet swollen from standing on the stirrups, was going to be a bitch. John really had thought of everything.

"Oh yes. Thank you so much, Henrietta," I exclaimed gratefully.

I held onto the bed tightly as Henrietta pried the boots off my feet. Once they were off, she looked at the pants.

"May I help you with those, Ma'am?"

Remembering the difficulty I had with the stockings, I swallowed my pride.

"If you would. I can do it myself, but I don't want to keep His Lordship waiting too long," I replied.

The pants proved to be more difficult to remove than the boots, but with Henrietta's help, it was done in half the time it took me to do it alone.

"Would you be needing my assistance with the rest of your outfit, Ma'am?" Henrietta asked.

"No. Thank you, Henrietta."

"Very well, Ma'am. I'll leave you some privacy, then," she said as she departed.

The tea dress, like the riding outfit, fit me perfectly. The V-neck was low enough to show some suggestive boob, but high enough to avoid looking slutty. The hem came down to mid-calf. There was a pair of low heels with straps that was the same shade of green to match the dress.

John was waiting for me at the bottom of the staircase. He made an approving sound when he saw me.

"That dress was made for you," he said smiling.

"I love it! It feels light and airy," I replied, smiling, almost laughing.

"Then I insist you take it with you. Let that be a small token of my affection," he insisted.

"Oh no, I couldn't," I said.

"But you must. What else am I going to do with it? I certainly can't wear it," he joked.

"Th-thank you," I said, choking a little.

Charles quietly slipped into the foyer and whispered something in John's ear. John nodded and I heard him whisper back, "I'll be right there."

"Excuse me, my dear. Something has come up. The war beckons at the most inconvenient times. This may take several minutes," he said, moving off to a restricted part of the manor house.

Suddenly alone, my eyes were drawn to the various portraits, artifacts, and other pieces of artwork displayed about the manor house. Eventually, I wandered into the dining room and stood in front of the great fireplace there.

Over the mantle was a life-sized portrait of an elderly man who looked to be in his eighties, wearing a gray uniform of some sort with a ribbon and star over the left breast. His thinning hair still had traces of the same wavy-blond color as John's hair, along with the same steely light blue eyes that seemed to look right through you.