Venus in the Country

Chapter eighteen

An air of quiet reigned over the Waterhouse manor the next morning. His Lordship, having failed to return to the ancestral home, the proceedings of the night had been of a most libertine nature.

Lavender, who walked now in the garden with Pamela, absorbing the morning sun, persuaded herself that she remembered very little of what had happened after dinner the previous evening. A bibulous haze had descended over her mind, or so she preferred to think. Quite obviously it was not possible that she, Mary, and Pamela had all been tupped, first in the drawing room and then upon the beds, though it was with vague surprise that she had discovered their dresses and chemises scattered over the drawing room carpet that morning.

Mary lay sweetly sleeping still in her bed, whence she had been borne in the early hours, having not only been Rogered but Ruperted as well. Opening her eyes for a moment, and then her legs, she fingered her cunny in pleasant reminiscence, happily aware that her dear Mama could henceforth never upbraid her again. With that thought, she drifted back into dreamland while in their own beds Roger and Rupert languidly considered that the events of the night might be renewed and that they had best rest up in that hope.

Turning over possibilities that were not by any means dissimilar, Lavender asked Pamela whether she would not like to stay. She saw much to be gained by the girl's taking up residence with them, for she could act as companion, lure, and go-between.

For her part, Pamela had considered the idea already but briefly, though she felt extremely warm to Lady Waterhouse, who was neither so sly nor devious as her female employer and was delicious to watch in the throes of passion. How best and most politely she could refuse she knew not, but finally decided to do so with honesty, being grateful that with Lavender she could do so.

Casting herself down upon the velvety sward in a manner that invited Lady Waterhouse to follow suit, the two embraced tenderly, pecking at each other's lips like doves.

“Fond as I have grown of you, I though must needs move on,” Pamela murmured, adding quickly, “I shall stay another night with you if you wish.”

“That I do desire, though perhaps we must not be so naughty. But why will you not stay?” Lavender implored.

Thereupon for the first time Pamela unveiled to her completely the events of the night at Sir Richard's house, to all of which Lavender listened intently. What she herself had gained from Mary was that her Papa had been very naughty indeed with her, but now she saw in a new light all that had transpired and was ready to forgive the two in the heat of the moment.

“Indeed, so it should be,” Pamela said wisely, “and hence you see that my mission is complete, for now she takes her injections as prettily as ever you do, having quite properly learned-as you have-to vary your steeds.”

“Oh! and is that your purpose?” laughed Lavender, though she could not help but blush.

In her strange little way, however, Pamela preserved her serious mien.

“Such treasures as we females possess must be properly nurtured and handled in a manner that becomes them, Lavender. It would not do at all if girls were put about to all manner of crude and rough gentry. 'Tis better that they undergo their trials first, and then they may choose as they will, for they will have gained knowledge and experience thereby.”

“Really, what a quaint and lovely creature you are!” Lavender declared, hugging her. Thereupon they set to discussing the whole matter until Lady Waterhouse felt herself quite converted and vowed to expound the philosophy as far as she was able. Working on all sorts of possibilities, her agile mind at last saw an opening that Pamela might wish to entertain, for the place she had in mind lay but not ten miles away. Thus, as she explained, they would not be too far distant from each other.

This intelligence Pamela received with pleasure, already having decided to leave the Bromley abode as soon as possible since her mission there was also finished. So the two lay talking, being refreshed with iced lemonade and minding not the time-until lunch was announced.

Mary being seemingly too shy to appear-though having been given her hors d'oeuvre by Roger, who left her bottom looking somewhat like a cream bun- Lavender and Pamela partook of lunch alone. Roger and Rupert had departed to change their attire and return for dinner, it being agreed that they might do so “if they behaved themselves,” though neither was minded to and Lavender secretly hoped that they wouldn't.

That afternoon, therefore, Lavender and Pamela sallied forth in an open carriage to visit the house where, as Lavender thought, some possibilities might lie. En route they stopped at an inn to slake their thirsts, though with due thought Pamela partook only of lemonade, being determined to look her most respectable and to have no smell of wine upon her breath. Indeed, she had adorned herself in one of Mary's primmest dresses, which though an inch or two short for her, fitted her otherwise admirably and was pleasingly tight about her hips and bosom.

The house they were to visit was known as The Grange, Lavender explained. The head of the household was one Thomas Tomkins, who had gained his fortune from the railways. He was a kindly yet stern man, given to keeping his daughters and sons under firm rein.

“That he is stern may be an asset, for sternness may be moulded into firmness, which is all that is required,” Pamela avowed wisely. As to Mrs. Adelaide Tomkins, that lady was of attractive appearance, but quiet and not given overmuch to excitement.

“Where there is not excitement, there is not desire, but both may be engendered and aroused,” said Pamela, who was keen indeed on learning every detail that she could before setting foot in the establishment. Of daughters there were four, she gathered, their ages ranging from sixteen to twenty-one. Of sons there were two.

“I believe also several others-it is quite a large household,” Lavender averred, but within another half an hour they were in sight of The Grange itself, set in rolling countryside and with a well-laid drive of a quarter-mile leading up to it from between a pair of large iron gates flanked by stone pillars.

Receiving few visitors at this hour, Mr. and Mrs. Tomkins were not displeased to greet their friend, Lady Waterhouse, while expressing also much pleasure at being introduced to Pamela as, in Lavender's words, “a dear friend.”

The Grange was commodious and with so many bedrooms that-being shown around it-Pamela's nimble mind was already at work in memorising each and every one and how best the relationships of the various doors would best suit her kindly purposes. The daughters, if not entirely as pretty as Mary Waterhouse, or Helen and Miranda Bromley, were comely, fresh of complexion, and firm of figure, none being either plump or thin, but properly curved in such places as it suited them to be. In addition, as Pamela was intrigued to discover, there was a thirty-year-old sister of Mrs. Tomkins who had remained unwed (a piece of news that caused Pamela some kindly consternation and not a little further thought that she must be injected as soon as possible) and a shy niece who was staying “quite a while,” as Mrs. Tomkins said.

'Twas in the midst of all this amiable chatter that the subject of a governess was raised, whereat Adelaide Tomkins sighed and said that none would stay long because of the isolation of The Grange. How deviously Pamela's name was inserted into the conversation, neither she nor Lavender remembered. Suffice to say that both Adelaide and Thomas Tomkins expressed particular delight at the suggestion that she might be persuaded to join them, even though it might be only for the remainder of the summer. By the end of the week, as Adelaide declared, their sons would be home from boarding school and she knew not where to turn to keep them all in hand.

“Permit me to consider your offer overnight, if you will,” Pamela said softly, raising her eyes to those of Mr. Tomkins, who unaccountably blushed a shade and crossed his legs. There was something quite magnetic in her look, he thought, though he deemed it an illusion. The mere whisper of her stockings rubbing together where one thigh lay over the other excited him to a degree he had all but forgotten.

“Shall you?” Lavender asked quietly as they left The Grange, though a certain twinkle in Pamela's eye gave her the answer.

“There are possibilities, I do believe,” Pamela declared, then laughed and hid her face in Lavender's shoulder. They would have a wonderful night of it-she was determined of that-and then in the morning she would take her farewell. Four daughters, two sons, a niece, and an unmarried sister-oh, indeed, she would have her work cut out, but it was a challenge she could not deny herself.

Watching the coach depart, Thomas Tomkins sighed and placed his arm about his wife's waist. For no reason at all, he felt suddenly amourous.

“I do hope she comes, Tom. I'm sure she will get on well,” declared Adelaide, who quite unexpectedly felt her husband's hand roam around her bottom as it had not done in daylight for years. Not displeased, she wriggled it agreeably for a moment and then moved away, chiding herself for behaviour that was quite unseemly outside of bed.

Sighing even deeper, though he knew not why, Thomas expressed a similar sentiment and was vaguely petulant at the removal from his palm of his wife's plump bottom. Ascending to his study, where he spent many hours, he sighted yet another round and comely rump that belonged to Geraldine, his wife's sister. Many was the time he had almost yielded to temptation by fondling its ripe cheeks, but ever he feared the consequences.

All the damned women needed to be tamed, he told himself with vague surprise. The girls were at one moment frisky and at another shy. He could not make head or tail of them and was minded sometimes to put them to the birch.

Sitting down at his desk, Thomas Tomkins became ever more aware that his cock had risen thickly in a manner he never normally knew it to do at such an hour-or indeed any hour beyond the marital bed. Damned if he shouldn't exercise it more. The hours seemed very long indeed until the morrow, when they might or might not hear again from the deliciously charming girl whose eyes were so magnetic.

A sound at the door disturbed his reveries, unusual as they were, and he rose, quite forgetful of the extreme prominence in his trousers. Casting open the door, he was confronted by Geraldine, who promptly coloured up at the sight of what was presented to her, for, wearing no jacket, Thomas had nothing wherewith to hide his rude exposure which presented something of the aspect of a tentpole beneath the straining cloth.

“Oh, I but came to ask you for a q… q… quill,” stammered Geraldine. “I have not one,” she finished lamely as a firm hand drew her within and closed the door. Unable to move this way or that, she blushed with spinsterish modesty, though quite unable to conceal another quick downward glance of her eyes which Thomas did not fail to see.

Amazed at his own boldness, he thereupon slid his hand between the door and Geraldine's bottom and with increasing excitement savoured the firm contours of its cheeks while pressing his uprisen cock against her thigh.

“A q… q… q… quill,” Geraldine stuttered again, quite believing herself in a dream. Her loins stirred despite herself at the gentle fondling, and again she felt his prick burning through her dress above her stocking top.

“I have a quill, but no inkpot to put it in,” Thomas heard himself say with some surprise and drew her chin up so that her mouth hovered but an inch beneath his own. Her eyes appeared quite glazed, he thought. Her breasts felt particularly delicious-plump and round and firm as pumpkins.

“No-oh!” Geraldine gasped faintly and all but swooned as his mouth defended upon her own while with crafty guile he urged his longing tool more closely against her.

For a moment or two, it seemed to him that she relaxed. His lips swam in the wonder of her own, and then, with increasing desire, he squeezed her bottom tighter, the entire warmth of her womanhood appearing to him but a blatant invitation to put her promptly over his desk and have no further nonsense from her.

However, Geraldine thought otherwise. The pulsing rise of excitement within her was wicked and had to be stilled, she knew. Thrusting him away, she turned about, fumbled with the door and sobbed, “Oh no! Not even if you birched me!” and was gone, thereby leaving Thomas to tremble mightily lest she run immediately to Adelaide. To his relief, however, naught but a silence came, save for the occasional chattering and giggling from his daughters somewhere beyond. The whole damned tribe of them ought to be birched, he thought grumpily, and nursed his stiff frustration with a fretful hand as he gazed out of the window upon his estate.

Therefore, when Pamela duly arrived the next morning upon the hour of eleven, there was much excitement and interest while her trunks and boxes were unladed, for Sir Richard had not been ungenerous with his gifts. Having learned the ways of the gentry, Pamela waited not to see them being unloaded by footmen and houseboys, but repaired immediately to the study of her employer, who greeted her in such a fond manner that she knew herself well at home.

Terms being first arranged, as was her practical nature, Pamela then waited to hear whatever she might be asked, for questions about herself always intrigued her and she loved to consider her answer slowly before replying.

Thomas Tomkins, however, seemed pleased enough with all he saw and what he had already heard. There only remained the little matter of anything else she might need, he said.

Pamela had little need to consider that at leisure, for it was a simple one. She had left Helen, Miranda, Lavender, and Mary all perfectly satisfied and knew that she could do the same thing here.

“My needs will be simple, Mr. Tomkins,” she said. “Beyond my fees, there will be an allowance, the amount of which we can settle later when you know better the results of my work. As to other things, a few exercise books-for all your children must do their lessons-and, ah, yes, a birch. Or two, perhaps, for there is not always one to hand when one most needs it.”

“Yes, ah, yes, a b… b… birch,” Thomas stuttered, quite beside himself. “I will procure some without delay-this very day, in fact.”

“Please do-and now I will go and introduce myself to the girls,” Pamela said softly. Her hips gave a slight waggle as she departed, and Thomas Tomkins gazed after her with awe.

By Jove, he thought, Adelaide had been right. They would get on very well.