I allowed Mahogany to lead me by the hand, eagerly chattering as she drew me towards the bathroom, and I put the shopping bag down as she directed before we left the dressing room. She pushed the door open revealing several showers, handbasins, a couple of toilets, but no people. She dragged me straight across the space to another door, which took all her body weight to open. It was then I realized... when she said, "Bathroom", she meant, ok fair enough, the room for the bath.
Down several stone steps, the room was cavernous, tiled floor to ceiling with several large stone pillars supporting a relatively low ceiling. It was much larger than the salle de dressing by at least half, but it was difficult to see the far side because it was filled with misty steam. It must, I calculated, run all the way back from the front room of the manor house to the corridor behind, extending from the balcony in the opposite direction from Miss Havisham's office.
The bath room was dominated by a large raised square stone... it's not even fair to call it a bath, it was virtually a swimming pool! With easily enough room for 8, 10, or twelve or more people to sit comfortably around the edges, it was only a "bath" in the sense of a Turkish or Roman "bath". The entire surround was a broad stone platform with three low stone steps down to the surrounding floor in all directions.
A thick mist of steam rose steadily from the water, maintaining a hot, heavy, steamy atmosphere in the room. Two women were floating around in the large expanse of hot water, so the floor of the bath was obviously lower than the floor of the surrounding room. It was difficult to be sure I recognized them, with their wet hair, and through all this steam, but I made the guess they had been among the maids I met earlier. Only their faces were bobbing around above water, but they noticed us arriving, and both faces were turned towards us.
There were two other girls, whom I recognized immediately as having been among the maids. The taller of the two wore only a towel around her torso which barely met at the side above her breasts, before gaping open down that side, and in any case stopping well short of a length that would be appropriate outside this room. The other was reclined on a bench, leaning against the wall, comfortably naked and using her towel as a seat cover underneath her. They looked like they had been in conversation before our entrance drew their attention.
Almost immediately, my lacy, wafting little cotton dress began transforming into a bedraggled, flaccid, soggy clump. Having surveyed the room I turned to Mahogany for a cue as to what to do next. Her top was already off, and she was wiggling out of her little shorts, her breasts wobbling around as she rushed to strip off.
"Come and meet the girls. But you're gonna need to get rid of that," hopping a little because she missed her footing when trying to pull her shorts off her foot, due to trying to point at my sad-looking, clingy dress as she did so. It was soaking up steam in heroic quantities, and rapidly becoming drenched with it.
Falling against the wall before finally freeing herself of the shorts, which had snagged on her left heel in her hastiness, she was able, while leaning there, to reach into the shelving which was stocked with towels, and toss me one. She then pulled one out for herself.
Clearly, this was a pants-off zone, and besides, my garment was thoroughly defeated by the misty humidity anyway. So I reached around to release the hook at the top of the dress at the back. I wasn't immediately successful with it, because my hands were now slick with steam, and the fabric had become sodden, but in a heartbeat, there was Mahogany, just slightly shorter than me, naked, right up close to my chest. She was reaching around my neck to help me, but of course, approaching me from behind would arguably have been simpler. I dropped my hands and allowed her to fuss with it instead. I could tell she was using the opportunity to stand close, our bodies touching, as she ostensibly just assisted me with unfastening my garment by wrapping her arms around my neck, pulling her face so close we were even sharing the same air back and forth as we breathed. I didn't need to peek in her mind. I could read everything that mattered in her bright, happy eyes.
She managed to release the dress, but didn't just let it drop. She followed it down over my shoulders, sliding it off me deliberately, her hands tracing my contours, including a seemingly unnecessary excursion to include the side curves of my breasts, sliding deliberately and unhurriedly down my body, even to the point of crouching down to the floor to help me kick off my shoes and step out of it, having slid it purposefully down the full length of my legs. And just like that, I was finally as naked as she. I tied the towel around, just above my breasts, in the same manner as the other girl, finding it marginally less scanty on my smaller frame than on hers, but still gaping unmistakably at the side, and flipping around at about the same length as the dress Mahogany had just stripped from me. The towel would stay fastened around me only if my movements were modest, otherwise it would surely let go and fall down. Mahogany threw her towel over her shoulder, and happily proceeded naked, as she drew me again by the hand towards the others.
"Guyeeez! Come and meet Shynalee," she brought me to the two ladies who were outside the pool. "This is Luna and Celine," she gushed as we approached them. Luna was the taller, and was standing up, leaning on a pillar over Celine, who was lounging naked on the bench. I decided to follow their lead on the etiquette of greeting one another in this peculiar social setting, not knowing if we were huggers, kissers, hand-shakers, or awkward little wavers. Luna leaned in to exchange a kiss near the cheek on one side, while Celine, still unabashedly comfortable in her nakedness, extended a hand to shake. We all exchanged very pleasant, "Pleased to meet you" sort of comments, which seemed genuine. Luna, I noted, was the one to whom Miss Havisham had assigned the task of flogging Mahogany on the dining table. I couldn't detect any ill feelings between them, and my cursory glance over Luna's mind showed no complex interplay between the two.
"And in the pool, that's Pensee and Cordilia," they waved as they came closer, and presently took up seats in the water, in a spot near where the rest of us were gathered. We shook hands and greeted each other, as I had with Celine. I was able to see they were naked in the water and not at all self-conscious about it.
I felt ensconced in a comfortable feminine blanket of acceptance, as we all chattered together, exchanging compliments on each other's hair, breasts, or outfits from earlier in the day. I didn't need any contrivance to gush about how pretty the maid outfits were, and I asked all about the corsetry, which they were all happy to discuss. In turn, Luna remarked on my outfit with what I sensed was genuine envy, and crafted some wonderfully affirming complements about my figure (ok, she said the outfit really pops because I have a cute bottom. It might not sound like much, but it made me warm inside to hear her say it. Don't judge me).
As we chattered on, Celine seemed purposely to raise the subject of Mahogany's punishment session as a jab at her, but I instantly saw that it was good-natured, and Mahogany was enjoying squealing in protest. That's about when I pieced together that Celine was the one whom Mahogany had singled out for a smack on the bottom on the way into the manor when I arrived. I brought it up, in the clearly fun spirit of the conversation, and Mahogany jumped in with an explanation.
"Oh, I'll tell you why I gave that miscreant a good smack," she began, triggering Celine's mock indignation, surely for my benefit. In an attempt to block my view of Celine's response, Mahogany stood between us and continued, "We knew you guys were on your way from the park, and we were in the dressing room up there," she indicated the stairs by which we had entered. "As soon as we saw the gate open, this little COW," she pointed behind her at Celine, who responded with an exaggerated gasp of indignation and a sharp smack on Mahogany's bare bottom. "Ow!" she danced sideways and giggled, continuing, "yes, this little COW." This time she covered her bottom and dodged, "cut the laces on my corset! My whole outfit exploded, of course, and all these so-called 'friends'," she indicated all the others with a gesture, to their obvious comedic delight. "Just abandoned me! And all of them, ALL OF THEM," she glared accusingly, one to the other, at each of the girls in turn. "All of them knew exactly what would happen when I was late. Ever tried re-stringing a corset and putting it on yourself? So you wanna know why I gave the cheeky witch a smack? Yeah, that's why."
The girls, by now, were all chuckling along to Mahogany's theatrical histrionics. I nodded with mock gravity and replied, "Well, I can see that you've been betrayed, Mahogany. Handed over into certain peril. I imagine you have asked Celine to promise never to do something like that again?"
"Oh, heck no. That was awesome!" she quipped, and all the girls laughed together. It was a beautiful sound, a group of women, all at ease in one another's presence, happily laughing together in shared fun. The burbling, tinkling sounds of mirth echoing easily off the stone walls and floor, albeit dampened by the persistent mist, wrapped around us all, holding us securely in a moist womb of maternal warmth.
"Oh, look who's here", a new, sharp-edged, distinctly sarcastic voice sliced through the happy moment like finding the other half of a worm in your apple. The mood instantly transformed. Every one of the girls stopped laughing, and generally they were looking downwards, avoiding eye contact. Cordelia began drifting further from the edge of the pool, out to the middle of the water.
The source of the voice was the remaining "maid" I had met earlier. This was the one who had announced that lunch was ready on the front steps. The one apparently older than the others. Probably in her Forties, I had initially guessed.
"Tell me," she was speaking loudly from closer to the door, as she slid a long, flowing maroon skirt down to the floor, revealing suspenders and her lacy culotte as the visible part of what looked like it must be beautiful lingerie peeking out from beneath and between the lower parts of her tailored white blouse. "To where should we direct our deep gratitude that Miss Havisham's latest little plaything would deign to wallow among us, the misfits and perverts?" She continued undressing with deliberate motions, undoing the blouse buttons as her menacing tone hung in the mist, dampening all previous frivolity.
There was no real answer to a question like that. It was rhetorical, and designed to intimidate. After my initial shock at the change in mood in the room, I began scanning her mind for clues as to where this aggression was coming from, and where it was going. On its surface, my mind reflected a meek awkwardness in response to her bullying, while underneath I worked hard to discern what her angle was.
"Have they told you yet?" her mind was barbed, prickling with aggression. She left the question hanging for rhetorical effect as she removed the blouse to reveal a luxe lace camisole of simple elegance, which matched the rest of her immaculate underwear. The camisole was clinging to her now wet skin, but the effect was even more alluring, if that were possible, not like my sodden dress, which just collapsed in the same conditions. She was extraordinary.
