Hinterlands (2 page)

It
took Amelia some time to recover from her encounter with her new roommate.
 
She was confused after Enza left,
sitting quietly on her bed. She had never encountered a woman, so shameless and
brash, and she had no idea how she was supposed to live in the same room with a
girl such as this.

The
house kitchens were alive and bustling with activity.
 
When Amelia arrived the many men and
women of Hinterlands were preparing a feast fit for a king, and Lord Dunmoore
was king of this castle. The head cook barked orders at a dozen young girls as
they plucked and cleaned pheasants, their small hands dexterous and quick.
Still others washed and gathered ornate dishes and platters, setting them out
to be loaded with decadently stuffed quail, and steaming puddings. A fat man
kneaded dough roughly with his hands and folded it cleverly into sumptuous
pastries. He shouted in French to his assistant, who sprinted for some
ingredient tripping over a serving girl in the process.
 
This in turn stimulated a shouting match
between them both adding to the tumult of the kitchens.
 

Mr.
Stephen met Amelia as scheduled and immediately scolded her for her cream dress
and working shoes.

“Ms.
Kerrick that dress simply won’t do! No, no, no.
 
Ms. Farstone!
 
Ms. FARSTONE!” he shouted loudly in
multiple directions. “Please take care of this young lady.
 
No. No. No.”
 

Ms.
Farstone was a large intimidating woman (she was beginning to realize that
everyone at Hinterlands intimidated her) with flaming red hair and a suspicious
gaze, emphasized by her audacious eye paints.
 
When Ms. Farstone came down the hallway,
everyone seemed to get out of her way, choosing alternate paths, and avoiding
her entirely. Taking Amelia by the arm she led her to a small dressing room and
left her holding a blue dress with lace, much like the one that Enza had pulled
out of the chest in their room. She also gave Amelia a pair of well-heeled
boots to wear.
 

Amelia
stripped off her cream dress quickly, taking care to fold it and set it neatly
aside. She stood there in her stockings and underclothes momentarily, before
starting to climb into the blue one that lay before her.
 
To say that it was merely “blue” would
be a failure of words. The true shade was deep and glossy, the result of
hundreds of tiny ribbons wound round each other to create a blinding pattern of
cerulean across the bodice.
 
It
wrapped her torso so tightly that it thrust her young breasts upward in a very
provocative manner, exposing and emphasizing the cleavage. Once she fastened
the stays she found that she could scarcely breathe and she took a moment to
catch her breath. The back was low-cut, frighteningly so, exposing Amelia’s
shoulder blades and the delicate shadow of her spine as it trailed down. Near
her lower back a lattice of crisscrossing straps sat atop a pomp of white lace.
The dress was also short.
 
Much
shorter than any dress Amelia had ever seen, coming well above her knees,
almost exposing her thighs and the tops of her stockings. The sleeves were
non-existent, merely rings of white lace circling her shoulders.
 

She
looked in the mirror and felt deeply ashamed to be adorned in such an outfit.
 
Her mother wouldn’t approve.
 
In fact Amelia resembled the many women
her mother had warned her to not approach, the bad ones that hung around the
public fountains in London. But despite this impression, there was also another
feeling which overcame her in that moment, something Amelia couldn’t quite
place. This girl looking back at her in the mirror, this girl with her hair
pinned up, with her slender arms peeking out from the white lace, with her
softly rounded knees tapering into slender legs, legs healthy from chasing her
sisters for hours around the poor working-class neighborhood; this girl was
also beyond anything else, exciting.
 
She was thrilling and enticing in some odd way. Amelia then found herself
thinking of Enza again, with her smooth creamy skin, and fiery eyes.
Enza
was wearing this same dress
, she thought.
 
Enza’s
body was being squeezed in this bodice, and her breasts, the ones she had
brazenly displayed to Amelia; they were being thrust upward as well.
 
She became lost in these thoughts as she
ran her hands slowly along her sides and up under her bosom.
 
The feeling was brief, and she came-to
suddenly, as if awakening from a spell.
 
The truth is that she was terrified to venture forth looking like this,
but she had no choice if she was to work in the house of Lord Dunmoore.
Mustering her courage, she exited the small room and reported to Mr. Stephen,
who smiled broadly at her appearance.

“Now
then, that’s quite an improvement.
 
Yes, yes, you’re a lovely young lady when you put your mind to it.” This
comment even elicited a favorable reaction from Ms. Farstone, something Amelia
was to find happened quite rarely.

“Mr.
Stephen, if I might ask a question sir?” Amelia felt almost too shy to speak as
Mr. Stephen brushed lint from her shoulder, but she pressed on nevertheless;
“Why is it sir, that I must wear these clothes sir, they seem very--immodest.”

“Immodest?”
 
He seemed shocked.
 
“Never!
 
These dresses were designed by Dutchessa
Montaigne herself!
 
No, no, no.
 
The dress is perfect young lady, and you
look as no house maid as ever looked in it, I’m sure of it.
 
I have no idea where you came from, but
you must learn your manners if you are going to stay here.”
 
Mr. Stephen and Ms. Farstone continued
to primp and brush her as if they were preparing her for a ball.
 
Ms. Farstone applied colored paints to
Amelia’s face, and reddened her already flushed cheeks.
  
As a finishing touch, Ms. Farstone
brought out a large glass bottle and sprayed Amelia down with a noxious
perfume, apparently another of this Dutchessa’s inventions.

Once
they were satisfied, or somewhat satisfied with her appearance, Mr. Stephen
yelled out for Ms. Enders.
 
They
didn’t have to wait long before a tall slender dark-haired woman came bounding
around the corner with a huge smile.
 
She was adorned in the same dress Amelia was wearing, though it looked a
bit more worn, with a loosened thread here, and a bit of lace missing there.

Kitt
led Amelia through the long subterranean hallways of the manor house, passing
various servants rooms, storage spaces, dry larders and kitchens.
 
The air was alive with activity as the
servants prepared for the evening, and it seemed phenomenally large to Amelia,
there being so many places one could get lost.
 
Around each corner the hallways seemed
to stretch off into infinity and as they skipped along bouncing from one room
to another Amelia felt giddy with the same feeling of romance she had felt when
first viewing the house from the carriage.

Kitt
spoke here and there as they toured through the house, comically taking on the
stentorian tones of a school marm as she pretended to know about this or that
vase or balustrade. As she guided Amelia up and down the imposing marble
staircase, she pointed out secret places where servants would hide in order to
avoid work or simply to gossip freely with one another. As they passed into
vast ballrooms and billiard rooms, Kitt showed Amelia the entrances and exits
servants used, and instructed her as to the proper places to stand whilst
attending to the houseguests.
 
Most
importantly, Kitt was sure to emphasize where Mr. Stephen stood to watch over
them all.
 

After
some time, they ducked into a storeroom and closed the door.
 
Kitt perched cross-legged upon a burlap
sack of flower and began the laborious process of rolling a smoke. Her dress
was so short Amelia could see her stockings and short lacy pantaloons.
 
Amelia’s eyes were drawn down the long
legs towards the pinch of black fabric where her legs came together.
 
The skin of her inner thighs looked
smooth and unblemished, yet Amelia could swear there was a bruise in the shape
of fingers on the white flesh.
 
She
looked away nonchalantly before Kitt could notice her gaze. Kitt lit the
cigarette and took a long drag, the tip glowing red in the dim light.
 
She closed her eyes momentarily before
blowing the smoke out.
 
She stared
curiously at Amelia from beneath her short dark bangs, and spread her legs wantonly
as she reclined against the wall.

“So
what’s your name?”

“Uh…Amelia
Kerrick.” Amelia realized she hadn’t even introduced herself and she felt that
customary shyness overwhelming her again as he tried to maintain eye contact
with Kitt.

“Where
are you from, Uhh Amelia?” Kitt handed the cigarette to her and watched her
amusedly. Amelia put her lips on the cigarette, drew in a breath and started
coughing immediately.
 
It was
noxious.

 
“London, Seven Dials” she whispered
hoarsely, her face turning red and her head swimming.
 
Kitt giggled, and took the cigarette
back from her.

“And
watcha think of this place
so far lassie
?”
This was Kitt’s best Mr. Stephen impersonation and it was dead accurate.

“It’s
the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen, really.
 
I, I can’t say how lucky I am to be
here.”

“You
think so?
  
That’s rich.”
 
There was a silence then, and the girls
stared at each other awkwardly.
 
Amelia was getting that sensation that she was really naked, and there
was nothing but a thin piece of fabric covering her most delicate areas.
 
Kitt took another long draw on the
cigarette.

“Well,
Uhh Amelia. You better prepare yourself to meet
our lord
and savior
Dunmoor.
 
He’s a real scoundrel that
one.”

“Oh
is he so terrible?”

“Hah
hah hah. Listen lass, just follow my lead. It’s your first night here, so it’s
unlikely anyone will touch you.
 
Even as god-awful pretty as you are. They have a hard time keeping their
paws off of us around here.” This last utterance Kitt had said more to herself
than to Amelia.

“Thank
you.” Amelia smiled.
 
Even though
she had just met her, Amelia felt genuine affection for this girl. Kitt Enders
was the first friendly face she had met since coming to Hinterlands, and she
found herself feeling almost comfortable for the first time.
 
Both girls were staring at one another
again.
 
It was a unique feeling
being with Kitt, and although the urge was entirely foreign to her, Amelia
could actually see herself nuzzling up to Kitt’s neck, to smell and kiss her in
that most intimate of places behind her ear.
 
Amelia glanced again between her
friend’s legs and had the impression there was something of honey and seashells
there, something that would drive the boys wild no doubt.
 
This time Kitt saw her looking. Amelia
blushed deeply.

“Have
you met Enza yet?” Kitt saved her.

“Oh,
Yes. The strange girl from our room.
 
Yes.”
 
Amelia felt a
confusing flutter in her chest at the mention of Enza’s name. The encounter had
stuck with her for reasons she wasn’t quite clear on.

“Well,
watch out for her too.
 
I can’t
protect you from her.
 
She bullies
us all around here,
aaand
she’s the
special pet of Lord Dunmoore.
 
Adores that one, he does”

The
girls spent the next hour hiding out in the storeroom chatting before they were
expected for dinner service.
 
Amelia
was to do exactly as Kitt did, following her directions precisely.
 
This would ensure that she wouldn’t
raise the ire of Mr. Stephen or Ms. Farstone, worse yet the Lord or Lady of the
house.

They
made their way back to the Kitchens and reported to Mr. Stephen who seemed more
irritated than normal, chiding everyone within eye-shot.
 
Here they lined up with no less than ten
other girls, all of similar age, and all dressed in the same revealing blue
dresses.
 
They were handed large
silver trays loaded with the most amazing pastries and hors d'oeuvres Amelia
had ever seen.
 
Amelia was terribly
hungry and now began to suffer as the delectable smells of roasted meat and
sauces wafted lazily through the air. Both Amelia and Kitt’s trays however, had
large crystal decanters filled with red wine.
 
Their primary role at dinner would be to
keep the glasses filled-and easy enough proposition.
 

All
at once the girls began to file out into a vast and exquisite dining hall, one
by one carrying their trays in front of them.
 
There was a gracefulness about it like
some little line of ballerinas, intent on performing an intricate dance, their
stockings identical, their smooth legs moving in unison. Amelia focused on the
back of the girl in front of her, a sprightly creature from the orient who
appeared no older than Amelia. She held her head exquisitely forward, her black
hair wound tightly into a round black bun.
 
Amelia could see the little muscles in her back flexing with the weight
of the tray as they walked into the hall. The sense of space was
overwhelming.
 
It was the largest
room she had ever been in and it took extreme concentration for Amelia to keep
from gawking. The Dining table was long and decorated with a red velvet tablecloth
and numerous guests were seated around it.
 
At first Amelia resisted looking at the guests, overwhelmed with her
efforts to blend in and do exactly as Kitt did. But as she began to lean over
and fill the goblets of wine she couldn’t help noticing how finely they were
dressed, the gentlemen in high collars, the ladies in exquisite dresses.
 
There were mustachioed young men looking
quite serious in argument, and young ladies engaged in conversation.
 
Some of the guests held their goblets up
to be filled without even looking at Amelia, others left them on the table and
stared hungrily as she leaned her slender torso over to pour the wine.

“Madam”
she said lightly, in almost a whisper as she poured wine quickly into a glass
held by an amazingly beautiful noblewoman with a plunging neckline and curly
brown locks held up high above her head.
 
At first the woman paid her little mind, merely holding up a glass, and
glancing absently her direction, but as soon as the woman noticed her
appearance, she turned and smiled at Amelia in a way that was more hungry than
friendly.
 
Amelia tried smiling back
politely but then felt the woman’s other hand sliding gently up the back of her
thigh, drawing her in closer.
 
Amelia shuddered as the woman’s fingers groped her buttocks firmly
squeezing the flesh beneath her fingers.
 
Only the thin fabric of her pantaloons now separated this woman’s hand
from bare flesh.

“Uhh
please mum…please” Amelia gasped as she was pulled closely against the seated
woman, who then pressed her chin against the corset of Amelia’s dress and peered
up into her face wickedly.
 
Sudden
intakes of breath from around the room alerted her to the fact that
all
of the serving girls were being
groped in various ways by the guests, in many cases quite shockingly. The small
oriental girl she had been following when they walked into the room had her
dress pulled down around her waist by a young handsome gentleman, who was then
suckling on her small breasts.
 
She
seemed to struggle for a moment, but then relinquished, tipping her head back
and moaning with half-closed eyes as the man bit and sucked the erect
nipples.
 
Across the table Kitt sat
lewdly astride the lap of an older nobleman with piercing dark eyes. He had
taken the decanter of wine from her and was pouring it down the skin of her
throat and onto her exposed breasts.
 
She seemed utterly abandoned to his actions and put up no
resistance—even enjoying it.
 
All around her the sounds of heavy breathing and laughter had taken
over.
 
The noblewoman with curly
locks now had both hands upon Amelia’s buttocks and was rubbing the cheeks
salaciously, even slipping her fingers beneath Amelia’s pantaloons to stroke
the smooth skin. Amelia struggled to pull away even as she looked over to see
the young handsome gentleman had now unfastened his breaches and had removed
his massively swollen member. It stood there shivering slightly as he breathed
in the perfume of the young oriental girls breasts.
  

This
was too much. Amelia managed to escape the grasp of the curly haired woman by
pushing away from her forcefully.
 
The woman laughed a strange laugh and turned back to her wine.
 
Amelia then ran from the room, leaving
the firelight and moans of desire behind her.
 

Scarcely
able to breathe, she burst into the hallway outside of the dining room, not
knowing quite where to turn. Her eyes filled with tears and she began to sob as
she ran blindly through cavernous rooms, slamming doors behind her and
occasionally bumping into servants who were preparing the beds for the
evening.
 
Thoughts were rushing
wildly through her mind.
 
How
terrible the events of the dining room were!
 
What in the world was this place? This
house where, the servants were treated with such impropriety, such vulgar
immodesty? How horrid the curly-haired woman’s eyes had appeared; so full of
desire and hunger.

The
thought of what must be occurring in the dining room that very minute sent
shivers through Amelia’s heart.
 
The
oriental girl and Kitt, they both seemed to be enjoying it, even relishing in
it!
 
Amelia noticed that she herself
was very aroused, her body bathed in feverish warmth, and the sensation between
her legs angered her. The young nobleman had been so handsome, so
youthful.
 
His lips were smooth and
full, and the way he used them to suckle the small breasts had been
tantalizing. Amelia had also never seen a man’s member exposed like that
before, standing swollen and massive. Her heart beat rapidly at these thoughts
and she tried to steady her shaking body and walk without drawing attention,
even though she knew tears were still glistening upon her cheeks.
    

The
reality that she would never find her room began to dawn on her.
 
With a sinking feeling she considered
the possibility of having to ask someone for directions. Amelia was still
mulling this idea around when all at once she came around a corner and bumped
headlong into Enza.
 

“Ah
the new girl!
 
How goes it little
flower?” She asked in her heavy accent.
 
She wore the same dress as Amelia but in her case it seemed out of
place.
 
Though she wore it
beautifully, the fabric hugging her lithe body like no other girl here, she was
also a wild thing to Amelia, a force of nature desiring to be naked at all
times.
 
Since their brief encounter
in the room this morning, Amelia had been deliberating on how to address her
the next time they should meet, but now she found herself quite unable to
respond.
  
“Why aren’t you with
the others?” Enza asked quizzically, her face suddenly turning suspicious.
 
She
was
heartbreakingly lovely Amelia thought. Her dark eyes enticing with their
wickedness, her full and abundant lips parted in a perpetual half-smile.