Chapter Eight
Samantha resolves, then and there, that when she returns to Bellchester the first thing she will do is tell Peter Thornbry "thank you" a thousand times.
Peter's cottage rests between two reasonable and unassuming hills out in the countryside, the sort where a mild-mannered woods tucks in between the curved slopes. Weaving between the rolling green mounds is a small creek, wide in places and narrow in others, which releases a soothing gurgle as the water cascades along rocks a little further down. It stands in its own place, far enough away from its neighbors that it feels private and secluded, yet close enough that it does not feel like wilderness. It was delightfully rural.
The poet apparently liked his quiet and comely home, decorating the wood thatched roof with a crown of branches tied together along the rim and a row of rose thickets along the front walkway, where the dirt turns back into cobblestone just before the door. The oak walls are smooth and well-treated, and from the outside it seems that it could be the home of some retired prince, dedicated to living a folksy life apart from the pomp and circumstance of nobility.
The walk requires some effort and only a little past half a day, though Samantha delights in the sweet pleasure it is to be alongside Esther for the duration. Once they'd departed far enough off of the main road, the Sister even felt brave enough to remove her head covering and to timidly lower her hand into Samantha's, squeezing it whenever Samantha said something which made her laugh, which was delightfully often.
Esther regales her of the orphanage's horrid past week, as Sisters and children fell sick in waves, the healthy taking care of the ailing and then swapping as illness struck them as well. Sister Levy seems to have made it through relatively unscathed, apart from the haunting sounds of Sister Mabel coughing the whole night through the prior few evenings. The Mother Superior was more than happy to grant Esther a trip away from the convent to spend time in the countryside in prayer, at least in part so that it was less crowded in the now recovering building.
Samantha twists Peter's key through the lock and allows the door to swing open, stepping aside and enjoying the cool still air of a home that has been left alone for a few weeks. She sets her two bags down, rolling her shoulders and removing her shoes as her body seems grateful to give up the journey and succumb to rest. Though Esther has other plans, and as soon as she's closed the door behind the two of them Samantha feels the Sister throw herself into her arms and kiss her.
Samantha allows her the pleasure, embracing Esther while sighing contentedly. She pulls her mouth away enough to speak and remarks, "Eager you are, my dear."
"Shut up and kiss me."
Feeling a bit teasing, Samantha dodges Esther's next effort and steps further into the home, taking in the rustic and homely feel about it. "Before a tour of our lovely abode?"
The cabin was small, yet comfortable in all ways it needed to be. A long rug stretches across the floor, adding a splash of red to accent the dark walls. A furnace with a small kitchen is tucked away in the nearest corner, while a wide couch rests against the back wall. Heavy curtains sit over the windows, yet once Samantha opens them she is delighted by how the light rakes across the room and brightens it all. Peter has exquisite taste, and a small library and set of reading chairs dominates the final corner of the room. Down the hallway to the right appears to be a quaint bathroom and comfortable bedroom.
"Mistress," Esther insists, stepping into the center of the room. "I need you."
"Patience, my dear-,"
"I waited," she croaks, and Samantha turns to see Esther kneeling on the floor behind her. There's an adorable blush across her cheeks, one which seems nearly permanent when in Samantha's presence these days. "I obviously thought about you constantly," Esther continues, almost breathless, eyes affixed to the ground before her. "But... I've not... I've not touched myself since we last spoke."
"Truly?" Samantha's voice feels very nearly giddy.
"Truly."
She rises and squats before the kneeling Sister, placing a sympathetic pout upon her lips while her eyes light up. "Poor thing, you must be in such pain."
"Which is why I need you."
"Oh, pretty girl, I'm sure you do," she purrs. "Please stand."
Samantha gently lifts Esther's arms to encourage her up. She allows the Sister to watch her eyes mischievously cross over her form, then raises a hand to the collar of her habit. Carefully and slowly, Samantha slips her fingers underneath the fabric to grab at its edges, adjusting it so that the robes could simply slide off of Esther without any difficulty. They tumble down to the ground, landing onto the floor in a bundle at her feet, leaving Esther in nothing but her undergarments.
She glides her palms down Esther's arms, putting a little pressure into the gesture as though to communicate for her to stay motionless. "Now, remain there," Samantha directs, savoring the supplicating look in Esther's eyes. "I shall return in a moment."
Samantha retrieves her bag and brings it into the bedroom, where a wide mattress with a heavy blue duvet awaits her. She opens the bag and places its contents in a neat, orderly pattern on the blanket, smiling excitedly as she considers each item in her palm before placing it. Just before the final item, she retrieves the small note which simply reads, Pick One. She clicks her heels together and strolls back out to Esther.
"To the bedroom with you," she commands. "I shall be here when you return."
Esther nods and departs to the bedroom. Samantha opens her second bag and acquires the other objects of her grand plan; a meager tin of petroleum jelly, and a usefully shaped glass instrument, small enough to fit in the palm of her hand, with a flared base to ensure its functionality. She sets both onto the counter and begins pulling out ingredients for dinner.
At the sound of Esther's approaching feet, Samantha turns, briefly abandoning composure for the sake of her excitement. Esther has retired her plain, cotton undergarments, and now sports a navy blue laced corset, accompanied by a matching garter and stocking set. Her face is bright pink, and even from a few steps away Samantha is convinced she can see the girl's heart beating against her chest.
"Oh, my dear," she sighs, her eyes scouring over Esther's soft skin, "I can hardly bear how beautiful you are. What did you choose?"
"Thank you, Mistress," she squeaks, then reveals the item she was holding behind her back. "Riding crop," she says quietly, setting it onto the counter next to the tin and plug. "What's this?"
Samantha leans a hip onto the counter and takes the glass plug in her hands, wrapping her fingers around it in such a way that Esther would not wish to look at anything else. "I should like you on your best behavior. This," she holds it forth, "is to ensure you won't be."
"It rather seems you are setting me up for failure."
