This is Chapter 4 of Matilda's adventures. You can read it on its own, but it makes more sense if you've read the first three parts. This is my first series on Literotica - please tell me what you think!
MATILDA AT DYMOCK MANOR
Chapter 4: The Butler
Matilda awoke the next morning, still wrapped in Chloe's arms. It was not yet light outside, but Chloe was stirring. Matilda blinked and the beautiful green pools of Chloe's eyes swam into focus. She felt warmth spreading throughout her body. She felt...different. Less awkward and unsure. More...womanly.
Her breath caught as she remembered how Chloe had pushed her fingers inside her last night; how she had rubbed her thumb and caused the universe to shift on its axis. Riding the crest of that warm glow, Matilda pushed her mouth up and kissed Chloe's lips. Chloe returned the kiss, wrapping her arm over Matilda's back and stroking down the line of her spine. Matilda felt a need tugging inside her, a hunger - but not for food. She required sexual nourishment.
She flicked her tongue across Chloe's lips, tracing her lower lip and then her upper, before pushing back inside her mouth, feeling the other girl's tongue returning the pressure and twisting around it. Matilda feasted on her bedmate, with a desperation stemming from that insatiable desire that had awoken within her. She brought her hand up to Chloe's hair, pulling her closer into the kiss, then traced down her neck to her shoulder, caressing her gently. She continued her journey downwards to Chloe's breasts, softly cupping the freckled swell of her skin. She broke the kiss for a moment to feast her eyes on the body now lying beneath her, seeing the tiny nipples harden as her fingers grazed them and then pinched them softly. They were irresistible. Instinct had taken over, and without conscious thought Matilda kissed her way down Chloe's neck, over her collarbone, to that wonderful breast. She licked across the skin, flicking the nipple with the tip of her tongue, before taking the whole thing in her mouth and suckling.
Chloe let out a soft moan and rocked her hips back and forth as Matilda's nuzzling continued. Matilda felt the rub of Chloe's sex against her thigh, felt the wetness leaving a mark on her skin. Keeping Chloe's nipple in her mouth, Matilda moved her hand down over Chloe's tight stomach. She felt the muscles clench in anticipation as she moved lower, felt the brush of the tuft of pubic hair, and then folded her hand between Chloe's legs. Warmth pulsed out from beneath her touch. Chloe bucked her hips, rubbing against the soft hand, craving friction and stimulation. Matilda pressed down, then flexed her middle finger and pushed it gently against the flesh between Chloe's legs. She felt the outer lips part, welcoming her in, and her finger pushed up inside the slick, wet folds of Chloe's most intimate parts. It felt simply wonderful, like dropping anchor in a safe harbour after being adrift at sea for months. It felt like home.
Chloe moaned and gripped Matlida's back, digging her broken nails into the skin. Matilda took her cue from what had felt so good to her last night, swirling her finger inside, exploring her. She found a patch of skin, slightly rougher than the rest, and curled her finger against it; Chloe writhed in pleasure, goosebumps breaking out down her exposed arm. Matilda continued to stroke that sensitive spot, and brought her thumb up as Chloe had done the night before to explore the outer lips. There was a spot Chloe had found, just above the entrance, which had driven Matilda wild. A little button...there. Matilda's thumb eased back the fleshy hood and found a tiny, hard nub, slick with Chloe's juices. Gently, Matilda rubbed her thumbs back and forth, moving her wrist to keep the motion going. Chloe's eyes rolled back and she clung onto Matilda, every muscle in her body tensing against the oncoming rush.
"Don't stop..." she whispered. "Don't stop...just there...oh God..."
Matilda felt the walls of Chloe's sex clench and pulsate, gripping her finger tightly as waves of pleasure gushed through her. A flush of warm liquid seeped out onto her palm as Chloe gasped out a wordless spasm of ecstasy. The two bodies wrapped into each other as one breathless, heaving creature, oblivious to the outside world.
Slowly, the blood pounding in their ears receded and both girls caught their breath. Chloe relaxed her grip on Matilda's back, stroking the skin where she had left red scratch marks. Matilda gently eased her soaking fingers out from Chloe's sex, bringing them curiously up to her lips and licking them. The taste was intoxicating: by turns sweet and salty, the lasciviousness of their primal, sensual behaviour was delicious on her tongue. Matilda was - for the first time in her life - fully awake.
At that moment, the first ray of the morning sun lanced across the horizon and in through the tiny attic window above the girls' heads, casting a warm, buttery light on their rumpled nest. Chloe planted a kiss on Matilda's forehead.
"Come on, love, there's work to do."
Love? Matilda's heart skipped a beat. Was she Chloe's love? Or was it just an expression? She paused for a moment, watching Chloe's naked form rise in the hazy glow of the sunrise. The rays of light caught her body, cradling it in warmth as she arranged her hair. She looked, wreathed in sunshine and glowing with a post-orgasmic radiance, like an angel. Matilda reached out towards her, hoping to draw her back into the warmth of her embrace, but Chloe nudged her hand away with a smile.
"We mustn't. You know what the Mistress is like. There'll be hell to pay if we're late or remiss in our tasks. We must be good, do as the Mistress bids, or we'll have a hiding. What we do up here, in our room - it must stay hid. The Mistress mustn't know, or there's no telling what she'll do."
Matilda nodded. She understood. Her hand still smarted from the thrashing she'd received yesterday, despite Chloe's tender ministrations in the darkness of night. She had no wish to repeat that experience again, and resolved to be especially careful and obedient today.
The girls pulled on their maids' dresses, tightening one another's laces and checking their aprons were straight. It still felt very strange to Matilda to have nothing to wear underneath her skirts, but it was a different sort of strange to the day before. Then, she had felt embarrassed and exposed; today, she felt excited and exhilarated at the thought that, at any moment, Chloe might run her hand up her leg and meet no resistance as she pushed her hand into her soft, wet sex...Matilda puffed out a breath. It was not going to be easy to be careful and obedient to Mrs Smyth when all she wanted to do was unlace Chloe's dress and push her naked body down onto the floor.
Chloe led the way out onto the dusty attic landing, tapping on the door opposite. In moments, Sally and Nancy joined them, making their way quietly down the rickety stairs towards the kitchen and the scullery. Matilda watched them with a new curiosity. Did Sally and Nancy do what she and Chloe had done last night? Were they lovers too? Matilda felt her face flush at the word. Lovers. She and Chloe were lovers now. Whatever would her mother think? What would Mrs Smyth think if she knew? What would she do?
Sally and Nancy gave no obvious sign of their relationship in their behaviour. Nancy was small and dark, with swelling breasts beneath her maid's dress and slim, boyish hips. Her face was unreadable, neither smiling nor frowning. She was, as her father might have said, a "closed book." Sally was the opposite, with that mischievous grin constantly twitching across her round face. Matilda could well believe that Sally got up to all sorts when people had their backs turned - but with Nancy? It was impossible to say. And anyway, neither of them could hold a candle to Chloe, thought Matilda, as she followed them down the stairs. Her ringleted, coppery hair, that freckled skin, those lips, her breasts...oh God, this was going to be impossible...
They arrived in the kitchen to see the rest of the household already stirring. Cook - a jolly, red-faced woman as round as she was tall, was already at work. Mrs Smyth, tight-lipped and stern, stood by the scrubbed table, twitching her crop in one hand and holding her bunch of heavy keys in the other. With no hesitation - without even a good morning - she began issuing the assignments for the morning
"Chloe, assist Cook with breakfast. You are serving this morning. Nancy, to the back door to meet the baker and the butcher's boy. Make sure the order is correct this time and put everything away properly. Sally, curtains and blinds, lamps and candles. Matilda, clear the grates and lay the fires in the hall, the dining room, and the Master's bedroom. Fuel is in the cellar," she snapped, gesturing to the hatch just beyond the kitchen door, "where you'll find the brushes and pans. Be sure not to leave a speck of soot when you're done."
The other girls were gone before Mrs Smyth had finished speaking. Taking her cue from them, Matilda jumped into action, reaching for the cast iron ring bolt in the cellar hatch and pulling the heavy wooden door upwards. Inside, her heart was thumping at the thought of returning to the Master's bedroom, alone this time, and with the knowledge of the previous night still burning inside her.
Matilda was a country girl, and not put off by the dirt and dust, the cobwebs and spiders, or even the noise of scuttling mice in the corners as she descended into the dark cellar. She found the pile of firewood and coal, loading a basket with all she would need to lay the fires. The glow from the kitchen lamps cast a faint light further into the cellar, and as her eyes became accustomed to the gloom, she made out the shapes of other objects stored there. In the middle of the underground space was a solid wooden post. Chains hung from it, with what looked like manacles open on the end. Pushed up against the wall was what looked like a wooden vaulting horse, but with pitched wooden sides ending in a point like a roof. And beyond that, a chair festooned with chains, manacles and stirrups. It looked like some kind of medieval torture chamber. Matilda wondered what the history of Dymock Manor was, and why the current residents had not cleared out all these old, historical artefacts. But she also remembered the pillory she had seen in the Master's bedroom the day before, and the thrashing she had received from Mrs Smyth. She began to wonder if, perhaps, these artefacts were not historical at all.
