Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

A brief summary of what has transpired thus far. (To get a breakdown of the earlier chapters, please see Chapter Links for descriptions)

Orphaned at the age of eight, sixteen-year-old Doris Sloane has spent half her life in a Catholic orphanage, where she was trained to care for young children. Our story begins when she is taken into service at the home of Victoria Shaw, a widow with three daughters: Melinda (ten), Sophia (eleven) and Becky (fourteen). Doris is thoroughly satisfied with this new life, but her orderly world takes an odd turn one night when she is seduced by Mrs. Shaw. Surprising herself, Doris responds eagerly, fully returning the pleasure she has been given.

In the days that follow, Doris and Victoria couple frequently, and Doris becomes skilled in the art of lesbian lovemaking under the tutelage of her mistress. She is deliriously happy, but her joy is tainted by the fact that she is only engaged to serve in the Shaw household until Melinda, the youngest, turns twelve. To complicate things even further, Doris has fallen madly, passionately in love with Victoria, and lacks the courage to tell her so.

One of Doris’ duties as nanny is to give Melinda and Sophia a bath every other day. The girls often invite Doris to join them in the large Japanese-style tub, but she always refuses, believing it isn’t proper. When she mentions this to Mrs. Shaw after a bout of lovemaking, Victoria suggests that Doris do what her youngest daughters want: get naked and bathe with them. Furthermore, she encourages Doris to pay closer attention to the girls’ nudity, to notice how beautiful they are in the altogether.

Doris finds this a bit strange… but that evening, while giving Sophia and Melinda their bath, she takes the time to study them more closely, and is startled to find herself feeling somewhat aroused.  The girls notice her interest, and on subsequent evenings, eleven-year-old Sophia begins to tease Doris by flaunting her nakedness. This only fuels this budding desire Doris feels… and very soon, she is masturbating to lewd fantasies of Victoria’s daughters.

One afternoon around this time, while the girls are at school, Doris in asked to join Victoria for a light luncheon in the back yard. There, Victoria offers the girl a permanent home as a member of the family, then tells her, “I love you.”

Doris is overwhelmed by emotion at first… but she joyfully accepts, and they celebrate by undressing and making love. 

Then next day, Victoria tells Doris how she first became attracted to women. It began at the age of sixteen, when she was given the service of a personal maid, a lively Irish girl named Nora, who would quickly become young Victoria’s faithful friend and companion. They would become lovers, but it ended disastrously when they were caught in the act. Nora was sent away, and Victoria was left devastated. More than twenty years later, she still mourns the loss of her friend. Doris does what she can to console Victoria.

The next day, Victoria tells of what happened after losing Nora. She was quickly married off to a man named William Shaw, who proved to be a bully and a drunkard. She managed to endure her marriage, gave birth to her three daughters, and ended up taking over her husband’s business as his drinking spiraled out of control. He died a couple of years later, and Victoria was free.

Back in the here and now, Victoria presents Doris with a startling proposition. Wanting her daughters to experience the delights of Sapphic love before they develop romantic attachments to boys, she gets Doris to admit her attraction to the girls, then asks her to pleasure Melinda and Sophia in the bath. Doris is shocked, but also quite eager to do as Victoria wants.

The following night, Doris undresses and joins the two youngest in the tub for the first time, where she caresses both Sophia and Melinda to orgasm, then allows Sophia to fondle her in the same way. Later that night, Doris visits Melinda’s room, where she licks the ten-year-old to another climax. When Victoria is informed the next day, she is well pleased. But her eldest daughter Becky, who isn’t yet privy to her mum’s seductive scheme, is growing suspicious.

Two nights later, Doris and the girls bathe again. This time, though, they agree to postpone their pleasurable games until later, meeting in Sophia’s room for a sleepover. There, Doris teaches her charges the ways of lesbian love. Melinda and Sophia are thrilled with all of it… and in the days after, seem to be spending quite a lot of private time together.

Soon thereafter, the situation with Becky comes to a head, when Victoria’s eldest explodes in anger at the dinner table, accusing Doris of getting up to “vile, wicked things” with her younger sisters in the bath. Victoria and Doris manage to calm her down, finally suggesting Becky join Melinda and Sophia in the tub that very night. Becky hesitantly agrees and, once naked with the others, proves quite willing to let herself be seduced. First Doris pleasures the two youngest, then brings Becky to orgasm in the bath while they watch Sophia and Melinda make love.

Later, when Doris turns in, Becky slips into the room, quickly undresses and gets into bed with her. She confesses her love for Doris, then they frantically bring each other off. While relaxing together in the afterglow, Victoria peeks in and, with an approving nod, wishes Becky and Doris a good night.

The story resumes here. Do enjoy.

by JetBoy and BlueJean

I

Any notion that the pleasures I’d enjoyed with Becky might simply have been some wonderfully sensual dream evaporated when I opened my eyes the next morning.

There she was, gazing warmly at me from the other end of my pillow, her mouth curled into a smile that seemed to convey a whole pantheon of emotions: adoration, mischief, vulnerability. Perhaps even a hint of anxiety, if it’s possible for a smile to convey such a thing.

I don’t think she’d ever looked as beautiful as she did in that moment. Her dark blonde hair spilled across the pillow and over one shoulder. There was a generous hint of pink in both cheeks, and her lips were ablush. Even those piercing blue eyes seem brighter and more intense than usual.

“Good morning, Doris…” she cooed, a sing-song lilt to her voice.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. “Good morning.”

Reaching for my hand, Becky unceremoniously planted it on one of her bare breasts with a smirk.

“Well, aren’t you a bold one?” I ventured. “Do you mind if I wake up first?”

The fourteen-year-old stuck her chin out playfully. “I’m just making up for lost time.” Then her brow darkened slightly. “Unless you regret what we did last night. Do you? Tell me the truth, now.”

I brushed a thumb across Becky’s nipple, its stiffness betraying her arousal. A smile teased the corners of my mouth. “What do you think?”

Satisfied with my answer, she took my hand in hers. “I’ve wanted this for such a long time. But it just seemed… impossible.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Impossible?”

Becky’s hand disappeared beneath the bedspread, and I gave a blissful sigh when her fingers found my slit. “Well, you are a servant. Not that I think I’m better than you or anything, really I don’t. It’s just… it isn’t proper to canoodle with the staff.”

I found myself a little put out by that. If Victoria had elevated me to the status of lover and equal, I didn’t see why I should have to take that kind of nonsense from her children. “I’m a nanny, not a servant.”

But the truth was a little more complicated, of course. Nannies and governesses at that time occupied a strange niche in the household. Neither servant nor authority figure, they sat somewhere between, eating meals alone in the staff kitchen; never socialising with the family. It could be a lonely existence. But in my case, Victoria had done much to break down those social barriers, and I was immensely grateful.

That said, this wasn’t the time to explain the exact nature of my relationship with her mother, so instead, I allowed my hand to trail down across Becky’s belly and through the sparse thatch of hair that adorned her vulva, flashing the girl a wicked grin. “You’ll show me some respect, young lady!”

Becky pushed herself against my fingers, her own hand idly exploring my folds while she casually nattered away, as if we were discussing whether it would rain that day. “And two girls doing it together!” she declared. “That’s an even more shocking state of affairs!”

“Oh, really? You don’t look particularly scandalised right now. Put a finger inside me.”

She was quick to oblige. “I know you’re doing the same thing with Melinda and Sophia. Mother, too. I don’t mind sharing, but you won’t forget about me, will you? I don’t want to be left out ever again.” She shivered at my touch. “Ohhhh… your hand feels nice there.”

“I… I don’t think I could forget about you even if I tried, Becky. Move your finger in and out, will you? Like I’m doing to you.”

“Yes. All right.” Becky worked her finger back and forth, the soft liquid sound bringing a hint of colour to her cheeks, along with the occasional shy glance. “But… it’s special between you and me, isn’t it? Because we’re almost the same age, I mean. More special than my sisters or Mother, wouldn’t you say?”

She looked at me beseechingly, and I realised with some alarm that the fourteen-year-old might well have grown besotted with me. I’d entered into these various relationships willingly enough, but now wondered if it was even possible to divide one’s affections four ways. Did love diminish when shared with multiple partners? Could a woman really maintain so many lovers without losing perspective, if not her sanity? Or could it simply be four parts of one larger love affair, safely contained within the walls of Shadowglen? The idea that I might be the Shaw family concubine was both amusing and slightly unnerving.

The sixteen-year-old version of me had no answers to any of those questions. I thought it best to simply swim with the tide, until it either deposited me on the shore of some unknown paradise or swept me away in its undertow.

“I’m ever so fond of you, Becky,” I told the girl. “But let’s just play with each other for now, and enjoy this special thing we have. What’s important is that I love you all, and I’ll do my best to make everyone happy. There’s no need to worry, all right?’

Becky offered a small nod of the head, her eyes gone to lusty pools. “Mm. Well, in that case…” She leaned in to kiss me, her tongue teasing at mine.

I drew the sheets away to reveal our nakedness, then pushed Becky back against the pillow. When I latched my mouth to one of her perky nipples, she breathed a satisfied sigh, her fingers combing through my hair. I swirled my tongue round and round the stiffening bud, pausing briefly to graze it with my teeth.

“Don’t forget the other one,” Becky reminded me, offering her other breast.

As she pressed her hips up to meet me, I could feel her soft thatch brushing my belly; the warmth of her sex against my skin. The scent of her arousal beckoned me towards its source, but Becky was already pushing me down, guiding me between her open thighs. I trailed kisses across her tummy as I went, nuzzling my way down into the fine down that marked the threshold of her womanhood.

The previous evening, our lovemaking had been urgent, even frantic, with no time for this kind of attentive exploration. I’d yet to taste Becky, and was certain she’d never had anyone’s mouth there before. Needless to say, I was more than eager to be the first.

Breathing in her clean musk, I slowly drew my tongue up through her slit, savouring the earthy tang. It put me in mind of some rare, exotic fruit, rich and succulent. Becky gave a surprised jolt, her fingers tightening in my hair. “Oh!” she gasped, then whimpered, “Oh, my goodness.”

I trailed my tongue back down, then began another long pass, applying more pressure this time, delving deeper through the neat folds of her sex to where the flesh was tart and moist with warm honey. Prising her cunt open, I took a moment to examine the rosy pinkness of the interior before using a finger to probe my way inside. When I flicked my tongue across Becky’s exposed clit, she cried out, her nails biting into my scalp.

She came quickly. Of course she did – surely there’s nothing so exquisite for a young girl than having her pussy licked for the first time. Once her shivering body had gone still and Becky was at rest, I pulled my finger free, spread the creamy fluid of her climax over her labia, then gave her one last lick, savouring the taste.

Becky gazed at me with undisguised reverence, lovingly running her fingers through my hair. “Let me do that to you, Doris,” she said.

I hadn’t known if Becky would return the favour, and her willingness to love me with her mouth had me prickling with excitement. Crawling toward the head of the bed, I carefully knelt over the girl’s face.

For a moment Becky seemed startled by my boldness and lack of inhibition, then she grinned at me when my intention became clear. My pussy ached with need as I grasped the headboard with both hands and began to brush myself back and forth across her lips.

She held still for a moment, allowing me to rub myself off against her mouth, using the movement of my hips to get the stimulation I craved. But Becky’s hunger was too acute for her to take a passive role for long. I felt her tongue emerge, then lightly trace the cleft of my cunt. She licked me a few more times, then pressed a deep, passionate kiss into my pulsing sex.

“Oh… Becky,” I moaned as her tongue did its wicked work – circling my entrance, darting inside, then moving about like a dancing flame. She was going by intuition, I knew that much, but her instincts were keenly adept for a novice.

In her travels, Becky’s tongue brushed my throbbing clit, and my body shuddered with a dizzying rush of pleasure. “Yes!’ I hissed – perhaps a bit sharply, but I wanted Becky to know that she was doing wonderfully. Picking up on my hint, she swirled her tongue around the tiny nubbin, much as I’d done to her nipples.

A few short minutes later I was rubbing out my climax on Becky’s face, leaving her mouth slick with my juices. I shifted back so I could lean down for a kiss, tasting myself on her lips. “Thank you,” I whispered to my new lover.

She seemed momentarily lost for words. “Well, you’re welcome, I’m sure,” she said after a moment of pause, then graced me with a shy smile.

To see Becky so blissfully content after many days of brooding suspicion, and even outright anger, made my heart swell with joy. I simply had to kiss her once more. She was quick to respond, her tongue finding its way between my lips – and just like that, we were making love again.

We brought each other off several times that morning, then roused ourselves to face the day.

II

From the very first moment I set my eyes on Victoria driving her MG Saloon, I was fascinated. Very few women drove automobiles in those days, and fewer still owned one. On the occasions when I accompanied Victoria into town, I would watch carefully as she changed gears and worked the pedals, marvelling at the apparent complexity of the task. Yet she always managed to make it look easy.

At some point, Victoria must have noticed my interest. One afternoon, not long after our new housekeeper had begun in earnest, with my drastically reduced quota of chores complete and time to spare before the girls returned from school, my love took me by the hand, ushering me through the kitchen and out the staff door.

“Where are we going?” I asked. “Into town?”

“You’ll see,” was all Victoria would say.

Mrs. Broomfield had just pulled up on her bicycle, ready to give the kitchen its weekly deep clean and start preparing the evening meal. She seemed somewhat strained, so I asked her if she was all right.

“Got indigestion summit awful,” she told me with a wince. “Musta been that lardy cake I ate last night.”

“Go and have a sit down for a few minutes, Mrs. Broomfield,” Victoria said. “You do look rather pale.”

The cook gave us a dismissive wave of the hand. “Oh, it ain’t nothin’ to fret over, m’lady. A spoonful o’ bakin’ soda and I’ll be right as rain. Ridin’ that bloody bike ain’t gettin’ any easier, though. ‘Scuse my language.”

With that, the old woman trudged indoors.

Victoria marshalled me towards her car. When I made for the passenger side, she shook her head. “Other side, sweetheart.”

I stopped and gave her an incredulous look. “Pardon?”

“You’re driving.”

“Me?” I shook my head rapidly. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes.”

“No, that’s a terrible idea, Victoria. Unless you want a crashed car and a broken neck, that is. I don’t even have a licence!”

Victoria dismissed my concerns with a nonchalant wave of the hand. “We’re not going far. You can just drive up and down the thoroughfare until you get a feel for it.”

I put my hands to my cheeks. “Goodness me.”

She opened the door, gesturing at the interior. “In you get. I’ll talk you through it.”

Reluctantly, I slipped behind the steering wheel. Victoria climbed into the passenger seat and gave me a pat on the knee. “Relax. Once you’ve done a few laps you’ll wonder what all the fuss was about. Now, put your foot on the brake – that’s the pedal on the left – then push the starter knob.”

The car rumbled to life, and it was all I could do not to swing open the door, leap out and run for the house.

“Now take your foot off the brake, and slowly press down on the accelerator.”

With Victoria feeding me instructions, I ambled up the long driveway, crunching the clutch every time I tried to change gears and stalling the saloon on several occasions. When I got to the main gates I spun the car round, nearly taking out one of the lamp posts along the way.

Victoria wasn’t fazed, though. “Go faster!” she cried when I finally began to get the hang of things. “Put your foot down, girl!”

I crunched into second gear and put a tad more pressure on the accelerator pedal. When I began veering onto the lawn, Victoria took the wheel and guided the vehicle back on course with a hoot of laughter. “Driveway good,” she said. “Lawn bad.”

“Oh, thanks for that!” I said, laughing with her.

Victoria reached across to honk the horn. “Go, Doris! Woo hoo!”

“Whoooo! I’m driving!”

“Mind the sundial, my sweet!”

After several laps I brought the car to a stop by the house. I felt elated, amazed how well I’d taken to something I never thought myself capable of.

“You did well for your first time,” Victoria said with a kiss to my cheek. “Of course, if you intend to get your own car, you’ll need to wait until you’re seventeen. And they’ve just introduced driving tests this year, so you’ll have to take that before you get your licence.”

I could see a wealth of possibilities laid out before me. To be able to climb into my own car and drive anywhere I wanted was the kind of freedom I could previously only have imagined. I loved my life with the Shaws, but I think that was when I first took something of an interest in the world outside Shadowglen.

III

Mrs. Broomfield was busy chopping onions when I entered the kitchen. I pulled my apron from the nearby hook and slipped it on. “How are you feeling now?” I asked the cook.

“I expect I’ll live. Mind you don’t slip on the floor, girl, I’ve just cleaned it.” She mopped her brow with the back of a hand. “Lord, but it’s warm in here.”

“Where do you want me?”

Mrs. Broomfield gestured towards the colander full of scrubbed potatoes on the table. “You can start peelin’ those, if you like.”

Looking at those potatoes, I felt a prickle of annoyance. With a sigh, I took a seat, arming myself with a small paring knife.

The cook raised an eyebrow. “Too good for that kind of work now, are ya?”

“No, of course not,” I said, then hastened to add, “Don’t pay any attention to me, I’m just a bit out of sorts today.”

Victoria had made me her lover and equal, and yet I had no choice but to keep up the pretence of being a servant. It all seemed so unfair.

I scolded myself for that uncharacteristic conceit. The truth was, I didn’t think I was above such menial tasks – I’d never been afraid of getting my hands dirty – it was just that I felt a great longing for more. I wanted the world to acknowledge my changing fortunes, for the people around me to see how far I’d come since leaving the orphanage. It was naught but foolish pride, really.

“You and our lady seem to be get gettin’ on like a house on fire,” Mrs. Broomfield said, as if she’d somehow tapped into my train of thoughts.

“Oh, yes, Mrs. Shaw’s very kind. I took an interest in her automobile, so she let me have a quick go up and down the drive.”

She also lets me slip into bed with her at night, so we can fuck like animals, I considered adding. The thought had me turning my head to conceal a smile.

“Let me give you some advice, girl,” Mrs. Broomfield said. “Never fool yourself into thinkin’ you can be friends with the upper crust. They live up there, we live down here, and never the twain shall meet. That’s ‘ow it’s always been… an’ always will.”

If only you knew, Mrs. Broomfield, I thought. But some tiny part of me wondered if she might be right.

The sound of voices outside drew me back to the here and now. “Sounds like the girls are back from school.”

Something clattered behind me, and when I turned to see what had made the noise, I found Mrs. Broomfield hunched over the worktop, clutching her arm. Her chopping knife had tumbled to the floor.

“Mrs. Broomfield! What’s wrong?” I asked, alarmed.

The old cook shook her head, a pained expression on her face. “Need some fresh air, is all.”

“Come sit down for a minute,” I told the cook, pulling a chair out for her.

She waved me away impatiently. “Never mind that. Just get that back door open for me, will you?”

I slung the staff door open, then helped Mrs. Broomfield outside, my arm round her waist. Victoria was there, supervising Melinda while the youngster sat behind the wheel of her mother’s car pretending to drive. Upon seeing the state of the old cook, they both ran over.

“What on earth happened?” Victoria said.

“She came over all queer,” I explained.

“I’s sweatin’ like a spit pig,” Mrs. Broomfield croaked. “An’ there’s no feelin’ in me arm.”

Victoria turned to me with a concerned look. “Call the doctor, quickly. I think she’s having a stroke.”

I ran into the house and made for the telephone in Victoria’s study. When I got through to the doctor and explained Mrs. Broomfield’s symptoms, he told me he’d get an ambulance sent out as soon as possible. I relayed this information back to Victoria, but she insisted it would be quicker to take Mrs. Broomfield to the hospital herself, so with me and the beleaguered cook in the back seat, Victoria drove us to Croydon Infirmary. Becky was under strict instructions to look after her sisters until we got back.

We had naught to do but sit in the waiting room wringing our hands until the doctor finally came to see us.

“She’s fine,” he told us, and Victoria and I breathed a sigh of relief. “She’s had a small heart attack, and I’d like to keep her in overnight for observations. Are you family?”

Victoria shook her head. “I’ve called her husband. He should be here soon. Will she be all right, do you think?”

“I don’t see any reason why she shouldn’t make a good recovery, but she’ll need to consider making a few changes in her life. A busy bee, is she?”

“She never stops,” I said. “I keep telling her to slow down, but she won’t listen.”

The doctor nodded gravely. “Well, there’s nothing like a heart attack to make one look at things differently. I imagine she’s nearing retirement anyway.”

“Can we see her now?” I asked.

“Yes, of course. Keep it short, if you don’t mind. She needs rest.”

IV

Mrs. Broomfield never came back to Shadowglen, except one Christmas when Victoria invited her and the husband over for Christmas dinner. Even then, we could barely restrain the old battle-axe from marching into the kitchen to take charge once again.

The day after her heart attack, we took the girls to see her, and a day after that she was discharged from the hospital. As we’d expected, Mrs. Broomfield told us she was retiring, but was keen to point out that it was her husband’s decision, not hers. “I’ve got another five years in me, at least,” she insisted. “But the old bugger won’t ‘ave none of that. If I don’t knock it on the ‘ead now, I’ll never ‘ear the last of it.”

Victoria would eventually employ another cook, but until then the Shaws and I mucked in to keep us fed. The resulting meals weren’t quite the nourishing staples Mrs. Broomfield had been so well known for, but we got better at cooking, and all of us agreed our time in Shadowglen’s kitchen was a chaotic but enjoyable adventure.

V

The days came and went. Sophia celebrated her twelfth birthday with a large party attended by what seemed like an entire tribe of school friends. The catering was such a monumental undertaking that even Becky and Melinda rolled their sleeves up to lend Victoria and me a much needed hand, now that Mrs. Broomfield was no longer with us.

The school summer holidays soon followed, and that left the girls with several weeks of free time to enjoy. When Melinda wasn’t occupying herself in the garden with Mr. Farnsworth, she and Sophia were off exploring in the woods and fields, often returning hours later exhausted, covered with grass and hay, and looking enormously pleased with themselves. I suspect they often indulged in other sorts of exploration while away, the kind that facilitated the removal of dresses and underthings.

Becky, meanwhile, insisted on dragging me round the shops, or keeping me hostage in her bedroom while she modelled her latest outfits. She was quite the demanding young lady, but I was glad of her company. Despite the fact that Victoria and I were lovers, the difference in our ages prevented us from truly being equals. I thought that might change, given time, but Becky and I were more at ease with one another in that regard. Sometimes friendship is a less demanding proposition than love, I think – though Becky and I were lovers as well, of course.

The sensual delights we enjoyed at Shadowglen took a much more organic form. We never spoke much of sex – it simply happened when it wanted to happen. The younger girls and I still teased and toyed in the bath when the fancy took us, and I would often linger in their bedrooms after I’d tucked them in for the night, lifting their nighties to feast upon their bare slits until they were either spent or too tired to continue. Other times they seemed content with their own company, sneaking off to one or the other’s room to satisfy their burgeoning desires.

When I returned to my own room, Becky would likely be waiting for me, wearing nothing but a coy smile. On the evenings when my own needs had not been met, and the taste of her younger sisters still lingered on my tongue, sex with Becky was often urgent and brief. One of our favourite ways to bring each other off was the position Victoria referred to as soixante-neuf, in which we joined mouth to cunt. Or we would simply grind against one another until the smouldering between our legs was coaxed into a roaring flame.

Afterwards, having ushered a sleepy Becky back to her own bed, I would pad naked down the hall to Victoria’s room, then spend the rest of the night in the arms of my original lover.

Late one evening, whilst basking in the aftermath of sex with my lady, she asked me how her daughters had progressed in the art of lovemaking. I felt my body glow as I told her how I pleasured Melinda and Sophia in the bath, then tiptoed to their rooms later in the night to satisfy them with my mouth.

“Do you have them do it to you?” Victoria asked me softly.

“Sometimes,” I replied. “But not always, because Becky’s usually waiting for me when I get back to my own room.”

The eyes of my mistress flashed with excitement. “So it’s Rebecca that usually brings you off, is it?”

I gave her a small nod. “Mmm.”

“With her mouth?”

“Yes. Quite often.”

“Funny, I assumed Becky would be too prudish to eat cunt. I’m… almost proud.”

I nudged her playfully in the arm. “So crude!”

Amused by my halfhearted scolding, Victoria continued. “Do you kiss them as well? As if they were your lovers?”

I paused for a moment, then answered, “Well, naturally. They are my lovers, aren’t they?”

She seemed to give that much consideration. “Yes,” she murmured after a while. “I suppose they are.”

Then, just as I was beginning to think we had all found our place in the Shaw household, that things would go on as they were for the foreseeable future, Victoria shifted the pieces on the board yet again.

“I think it’s time I see for myself,” she declared.

“See what?” I asked, unsure what she was getting at.

She offered me a wicked smile. “What you get up to with my daughters, of course. Tomorrow night, I shall accompany you to each of the girls in turn – Sophia first, then Melinda, and finally Rebecca. I want to know how well you’ve instructed them.”

“A-all right,” I stuttered.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. Like all chess masters, Victoria was always thinking several moves ahead.

Soon to come: Chapter Thirteen!