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.
After that evening, Becky is at peace with the new family arrangement. It enables her to make love often with Doris, who is now enjoying sexual intimacy with the entire family. But Victoria wants more. She intends to accompany Doris the following night, the two of them paying nocturnal visits to the girls so Victoria can see for herself, “what you get up to with my daughters.”
Sure enough, the following evening finds Doris and Victoria visiting twelve-year-old Sophia, then nine-year-old Melinda in their respective bedrooms. Both girls are startled at first by the appearance of Victoria, but are quickly reassured, enough to allow Doris to make love to them while their mother watches. Victoria doesn’t join in the sexual activity, but she gives a deep tongue kiss to each girl before departing.
The youngest daughters tucked in for the night, Victoria and Doris pay a visit to Becky who is waiting in Doris’ room, completely naked and ready to play. Like her sisters, she is shocked to see her mother there, and even less certain how to react. But Victoria’s seductive skills carry the day, and soon all three are making passionate love.
The next day, the entire family sets off on a seaside excursion. A lovely time is had, but on their return to Shadowglen, all are taken aback to see a large, unfamiliar automobile waiting outside. Only Victoria has an idea of who the car belongs to, and she isn’t pleased. Sure enough, the family enters to find Victoria’s parents, the Shacklefords, waiting in the parlor to see them.
The story resumes here. Do enjoy.
by JetBoy and BlueJean
I
“Hello, Mother. Hello, Father.”
It was the first time I’d ever laid eyes on the Shacklefords, Victoria’s parents. Apart from a few grey strands, Mrs. Shackleford had the same fair hair as her daughter, and a similar cast to her features. It wasn’t hard to imagine she’d been just as beautiful in her day, although there was little of Victoria’s warmth in her demeanour.
Mr. Shackleford had an even sterner disposition. His brow was knitted into an uncompromising scowl, giving the impression the man was constantly on the verge of outrage.
“Who’ve we got here, then?” he said, peering behind Victoria. “Are those my granddaughters hiding back there? Come closer so I can see you.” He tried on a winning smile, and I was struck by how insincerely his face took to it.
“Say hello to your grandma and grandpa, girls,” Victoria said, ushering them into the lounge.
“Hello, Grandpa. Hello, Grandma,” the girls dutifully chanted, one after the other.
It didn’t seem like the warmest of reunions. The girls stood there awkwardly, unsure how to proceed. I had to wonder if they’d even met their grandparents before.
“Look how you’ve all grown,” Victoria’s mother said, surveying her granddaughters as if they were prize livestock. “You’re almost a woman, Rebecca! You look so much like Victoria when she was young. How old are you now, my dear?”
“Fourteen, Grandma. I’ll be fifteen soon.”
“Almost of an age to marry,” Mr. Shackleford said. I saw Victoria stiffen, but he either failed to notice or pretended not to. He gestured to Melinda with his cane. “And which one are you?”
Melinda looked bemused. “Pardon?”
“Your name, girl, your name.”
“Uh… I’m Melinda, Grandpa.”
“Yes, of course. I knew it was something like that. Belinda or Durinda or some such. Good old fashioned names like Mary or Susan seem to be falling out of favour these days. Still, that’s where we are, I suppose.”
Melinda seemed unsure how to respond to that, or even if she was meant to. She offered a timid smile instead.
“Is that little Sophia I see?” Mrs. Shackleford said. “Come, sit with me, child. Let me have a good look at you.”
Sophia approached, but not willingly. She’d reached an age where it made her bristle to be referred to by grownups as ‘little’, or ‘child’. She perched awkwardly on the couch next to her grandmother, wearing a tight smile that seemed more like a grimace.
Mrs. Shackleford gave her a quick pat on the knee. “Aren’t you a pretty thing. Why is your hair in such a state, though? Has it been neglected?”
“We’ve just come from the beach, actually,” Victoria said, the merest hint of frost in her voice. “We’re all a little dishevelled from our swim, aren’t we, girls?”
Thus far I’d maintained a respectable distance near the door, but now Victoria was coaxing me into the room. “Mother. Father. This is Doris. She’s the girls’ nanny, and my good friend.”
“It’s lovely to meet you both,” I said, resisting a sudden impulse to curtsey. Victoria’s parents seemed like the kind of people who might expect it.
Mrs. Shackleford looked me up and down, and I had the brief sense that I was a fly trapped in a web. “Goodness, Victoria. If you’d needed a nanny, I could have recommended one with a little more experience.”
“It won’t do to be over familiar with the staff, either,” Mr. Shackleford muttered disapprovingly. “Never ends well.”
Victoria offered a thin smile, clearly working to maintain some semblance of calm. “I’d prefer you didn’t talk about Doris as if she weren’t here.”
“No, it’s fine—” I began, but Victoria put a reassuring hand on my arm.
Clearly appalled, her father opened his mouth to speak, then opted to close it again.
Mrs. Shackleford cleared her throat. “Oh, I’m sure she’s very good at what she does.”
“She is,” Victoria said. “And the girls adore her. Will you be staying for supper?”
“We were on our way back from London,” Mr. Shackleford said. “We’d only planned to put our heads round the door, but we’ll stay for a bite to eat while we’re here, I suppose…”
“After all, we haven’t seen the girls in so long—” his wife began.
“I’m still talking, woman,” the man growled, giving his wife a look that could peel paint. He turned back to Victoria. “We’ll stay the night, too, if it’s all the same to you.”
I got the distinct impression it very much wasn’t all the same to Victoria. But there was nothing to be done about it now.
II
Given the lateness of the day, and the Shacklefords’ unannounced visit, there was no time to prepare a lavish evening meal, not that Victoria seemed in the mood for hosting an extravagant dinner party. If anything, she seemed intent on carrying on as if it were any other day at Shadowglen, and I had to wonder if that air of nonchalance was intended as some kind of slight towards her parents.
She decided we’d have the haggis I’d picked up from the butchers the previous day, and while that was boiling away, the five of us took the opportunity to shower and change into something more appropriate. Despite Victoria’s lack of enthusiasm for her parents’ visit, even she accepted it wouldn’t do to sit up to the dining table in beachwear, sand encrusted in our hair.
While Victoria and I finished supper in the kitchen – me peeling spuds and swedes for mash while she steamed a batch of greens – the girls kept their grandparents company in the lounge. They didn’t seem overly thrilled by the prospect, but to their credit, made no complaint. Through the kitchen door, we could hear the indistinct sounds of conversation.
Victoria seemed subdued, even strained. I didn’t know how often she saw her parents, but I knew it must have been difficult for her, given everything she’d told me.
“I can finish dinner off, if you want to join the girls,” I told my love, stroking her hip.
She shook her head. “Christ, no. I’d rather be in here.”
“You’d prefer your parents hadn’t come?”
“I’d hoped to never see them again after my husband’s funeral. They’ve only turned up once since then, more than four years ago.” Her mouth tightened. “I don’t want them here.”
“Because of what happened with Nora? And your marriage?”
Her face was like thunder. “My parents have never expressed the slightest remorse for how badly they used me. They wrecked poor Nora’s life; saddled me with a husband I despised. And for what? Their precious family name. I’ve yet to have it out with them, after all these years.” She gave her head a curt shake. “That’s how we deal with things in our family, you see. It all gets brushed under the rug and we simply carry on with our lives as if nothing happened. I don’t remember us ever talking about my brother after he died. It’s as if he never existed.
“When they married me off, I was still a child, too timid to protest… and after William’s death, I thought it best to let sleeping dogs lie. No more. No more!”
I’d never seen Victoria like this, her sudden fury a stark contrast to the calm, stoic woman I knew. “How can your parents not realise the damage they’ve caused?” I said. “Perhaps they do feel guilty, but don’t know how to tell you.”
“I doubt it,” Victoria replied bitterly. “Compassion is a sign of weakness to Father, and I’m not sure Mother even has a mind of her own. She does as she’s told, like any good English wife should. God, it’s all just so… bloody awful! They’ll not get what they came for, though.”
“Do you know why they’re here, then? I assumed it was just a spur-of-the-moment visit.”
Victoria turned to me. “Perhaps. Father is still without a male heir to the estate, and he realises he’ll never get one from me. He has my cousin Henry as a last resort… but if I know my father, he sees another possibility.”
An icy shiver ran through me as I took her meaning. “The girls…” I breathed. “My God.”
“That’s my best guess. You just heard him say Becky was of an age to wed. It wouldn’t surprise me if he already has a suitor picked out.”
I let the information sink in for a moment. “Surely he wouldn’t have the audacity to try that again.”
“I wouldn’t put anything past Father. I could be completely wrong, of course. Regardless, I have no intention of allowing any such thing. Woe betide anyone who attempts to get between this lioness and her cubs! He’ll learn soon enough that his daughter has claws.”
I kissed her softly on the cheek. “I wish I could help you in some way, my love. Really, I do.”
Victoria put on a brave face. “Oh, it’s all right. Who knows, it may be the random visit they claim it to be. Let’s just get this evening over with, then we can carry on with our lives.” She nodded toward the pot bubbling away on the stove. “My father hates haggis, by the way.” She furrowed her brow, then lowered her voice a few octaves. “Offal’s only fit for peasants! Neither arsehole nor eyelid shall ever pass these lips!”
I suspect Victoria’s father had never said anything of the sort, but it eased the moment’s tension and had us both hooting with laughter.
III
While Victoria dished up supper, I took pity on the Shacklefords’ chauffeur and prepared him a small meal, letting him into the kitchen to eat it. I offered to set up a cot where he could lay his head for the night, but he assured me the backseat of the Rolls and the loan of a blanket would suffice.
The dining room table wasn’t exactly large, but there were enough chairs to seat everyone, and we all managed to squeeze round. I was unfamiliar with the intricacies of upper class etiquette, but I suspected Victoria’s father would have normally been given the seat at the head of the table. Victoria took that place for herself, and it was surely meant to convey a less than subtle message to the Shacklefords.
Mr. Shackleford pushed the haggis round his plate, his face waxen with distaste. I couldn’t help notice the almost imperceptible trace of a smile playing at the corners of Victoria’s mouth.
“What happened to old what’s-her-name? Mrs. Blodgett, was it?” the man asked.
“Mrs. Broomfield,” Victoria corrected him. “I’m afraid she suffered a heart attack a while back and was forced to retire early.”
Her father gave the haggis a wide berth, opting for the mash instead. “She was a dab hand in the kitchen, that one. A shame you don’t still have her.”
“Well, you don’t have to eat the food, Father. And Mrs. Broomfield’s fine now, thank you for asking.”
“No need to be snippy, Victoria,” Mrs. Shackleford chided.
“I hear you have a big estate in Hampshire,” I ventured, making an effort to keep things civil.
Victoria’s mother offered me a stiff but polite smile. “Indeed. It’s been my husband’s ancestral home for many centuries.”
“Do you have lots of land?” Becky asked.
“We certainly do,” Mrs. Shackleford told her. “There’s a lovely bluebell wood, and a lake with a little boat.”
Melinda piped up at that. “Oh, we’d love to have a go on a boat, wouldn’t we, Sophie?”
Sophia nodded enthusiastically. “Mmm-hmm.”
“Well, you shall all have to come visit us there,” their grandmother said, then with a hint of reproach: “I can’t imagine why your mother hasn’t brought you to see us.”
“There won’t be much left to see if we have to keep selling off bits of land,” Mr. Shackleford groused.
“Oh? Why’s that?” I asked.
As soon as the words left my lips, I knew I’d stepped in it. I don’t think Mr. Shackleford was accustomed to such casual familiarity from his lessers, surely seeing such behaviour as rank impertinence. He gave me a frosty glare, and might have chosen to snap at me. Instead, he gave a dismissive wave of the hand and growled, “You wouldn’t understand, girl.”
Victoria narrowed her eyes at him, then turned to me. “Times are changing, Doris. The aristocracy isn’t what it once was. Wealth gained from the slave trade is a thing of the past, taxation has increased considerably, and many people now question the privilege of the ruling classes.”
Mr. Shackleford scowled at his daughter, either because she’d laid bare the plight of the gentry so starkly, or because she was a woman who had the audacity to voice such lofty concepts in the first place. Perhaps both.
“A wretched state of affairs,” he mumbled before taking a mouthful of the red wine Victoria had uncorked. He grimaced as if he’d just swallowed a bug. “Good God…” Needless to say, Victoria hadn’t bothered to grace the table with one of our superior vintages.
Mrs. Shackleford laid a hand atop Becky’s. “You know, Rebecca dear, when you bless us with great-grandchildren, one of them might be a son who’s suitable to inherit the estate.”
“The Davenports have a son who’s of an age with you, if I’m not mistaken,” Mr. Shackleford informed his granddaughter. “Pleasant lad, by all accounts, from a distinguished house. Could be a perfect match.”
Becky suddenly seemed small and vulnerable, sitting there between her grandparents. She had no words; no way to respond to such a proposal, but it seemed to me that Mr and Mrs. Shackleford did not care a fig whether she consented or not.
I could feel my protective instinct rouse itself, and anger with it, but when I turned to Victoria, my own outrage paled in comparison to the fury I saw broiling there. I braced myself for the inevitable.
“You just can’t help yourselves, can you?” Victoria said, throwing her napkin down. “It’s not enough that you tried to ruin my life, now you want to sink your claws into my children too.”
Mr. Shackleford glared at his daughter. “That’s a poor way to address your mother and father. Mind your manners.”
Victoria wouldn’t be cowed. “If you think you’re playing matchmaker with any of my daughters, you’re sorely mistaken. I’ll never let you do to them what you did to me. Never.”
“What’s got into you, Victoria?” Mrs. Shackleford sniffed. “It was merely a notion, nothing more. It certainly doesn’t warrant such melodrama.”
“No, it won’t do to get emotional, will it?” Victoria shot back. “That’s not the Shackleford way. Stiff upper lip and all that rot.”
“It’s all right, Mother,” Becky quietly pleaded, her face gone pale. “I’m sure Grandma and Grandpa d-didn’t mean anything by it.”
A worried looking Melinda reached out with shaky hands to pour herself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table. It slipped from her grasp and upended, the contents flooding towards her grandfather and into his lap.
He lurched from his chair, roaring his outrage. “You imbecilic child! Now look what you’ve done!”
Melinda stared open-mouthed for several fleeting seconds, then burst into tears.
Victoria leapt to her feet, swung her arm back and slapped her father full force across the cheek.
He stood there frozen for a long moment, his mouth slack with disbelief. “How dare you…” he seethed. “How dare you!”
“Becky, take your sisters upstairs,” Victoria said, her voice tremulous and strained, but still considerably calmer than I would’ve expected. She bent to kiss a still-sobbing Melinda on the brow.
As the three girls crept from the dining room, I made to follow, certain this would be a confrontation I had no business observing.
Victoria stopped me. “Stay please, Doris,” she said. “I’d like a witness to this.”
If her parents thought that was a strange request to make of the children’s nanny, they chose not to question it openly. I reluctantly found my chair again, torn between wanting no part of this family donnybrook and the desire to stay and support my beloved.
“Have you any idea of the pain you’ve caused, I wonder?” Victoria asked her parents. “Is there even a shred of remorse?”
“What on earth are you talking about?” Mrs. Shackleford hissed. “In what possible way have we wronged you that would justify raising a hand to your own father?”
“You took my dearest friend away from me!”
Victoria’s parents looked at her blankly.
“Nora! You don’t even remember her name?”
A veneer of sudden recognition settled over Mrs. Shackleford’s face, and her lip curled up into something resembling a sneer. “That girl. No, indeed. How could we forget her?” she muttered with unconcealed distaste.
“What did you do to her? Where did you send her?”
“For pity’s sake, it was over fifteen years ago,” Mr. Shackleford groused, still nursing his cheek. “That wretched girl broke the rules of the house and was dismissed accordingly. I have no idea where she went, nor do I care.”
“She didn’t deserve to be treated like that. If anyone was to be punished it should’ve been me. You both used her as a whipping girl.”
Mrs. Shackeford’s mouth tightened. “The maid was a member of staff, not your friend,” she said, her tone purest ice. “Now, Victoria, are you quite finished?”
“No, I’m bloody not! There’s also the matter of that… monster you made me marry. You knew the torment I suffered; how he battered and belittled me. I told you, Mother. I reached out to you so many times, and all you could say was, ‘You must endure, Victoria.’ As if it was my duty to be a punching bag for king and country.”
“It was your duty to be a wife and a mother, you spoilt brat!” Mr. Shackleford roared. “You think we approved of the way William treated you? Of course we didn’t! I told him it was unacceptable, more than once. He was a troubled man, and if we’d known the full extent of it, we never would’ve chosen him as a match. But if you’d played your part and refrained from provoking his ire, things would’ve gone far easier for you. You always were willful.”
Victoria stared at her father incredulously. “I was sixteen! I was a pretty little bird stuffed inside a cage, with no hope of escape. I wanted to die. Do you understand that? I wanted to take my own life. If it wasn’t for Rebecca being born I actually might have. Later, I learnt how to play him at his own game, but those early years were awful. I didn’t think I had the strength to make it through.”
“I’m sorry, Victoria,” Mrs. Shackleford said, and for a moment I thought she might have actually meant it. “None of us chose the life we were born into. The men went to war, we women stayed behind to look after the children and run the estates. We all had our duty, one way or another. Believe me, you were more fortunate than some. Many’s the family that would have disowned you, cut you off without a penny for that… disgusting episode with the maid.”
Mrs. Shackleford gave me a cursory glance. Did she wonder if she’d said too much in front of a stranger? Or had she looked at me and considered the possibility of history repeating itself?
Victoria barked out a bitter laugh. “Unbelievable. I have to wonder if the pair of you have ever felt an ounce of empathy in your life. I could never treat my daughters the way you’ve treated me.”
“Life is a struggle, Victoria,” Mrs. Shackleford said with a sad smile. “Do you imagine you were the only woman in the world to have expectations placed on her? Such is our lot.”
Mr. Shackleford had already sat himself back down. He knitted his fingers together upon the table in a visible effort to control his anger. “It was a burden that was never meant for you, Victoria,” he murmured grimly. “If your brother hadn’t perished in that wretched war… But you weren’t left wanting. You have your children, and William’s money. Surely it was worth it all in the end. You’ve no right to be ungrateful.”
Victoria said nothing, though I saw her jaw tighten at the word ungrateful. She must have known there was a perverse kind of truth to her father’s words. The money and the house were poor compensation for what she had endured at the hands of her husband, but the girls – I’m certain she would’ve chosen to live the same life all over again rather than be denied her children, even if that choice had never been hers in the first place. What a terrible paradox that was.
Throughout this altercation I could do nothing but sit there with my hands in my lap, listening to Victoria pour her heart out. I wanted nothing more than to reach out to her and hold her tightly, but I could not.
Then Mr. Shackleford was speaking again. “Perhaps we should all retire for the evening. There’ll be more time to talk tomorrow.”
“No,” Victoria said, quite calmly. “I want you out of my house.”
“Be reasonable, Victoria,” her mother said. “It’s getting late, and it’s a two-hour drive back to Hampshire.”
Victoria loomed over the two of them, her face cold and hard. “You’re both leaving. But first I need you to understand what I’m about to tell you, because I’ve thought long and hard about it over the years, and it hasn’t been an easy decision.”
She held her head high, and I could see steel in her eyes. “I’m cutting you both out of my life. Permanently. I don’t ever want to see you again. I have three beautiful daughters. I’ve successfully managed my husband’s business, after he nearly drank it away. I own this house. And I deserve it all, for the years I was shackled to that disgusting man. I need nothing from you. I want nothing from you. As far as I’m concerned, we’re no longer family. Do you understand?”
“You ungrateful little harpy…” Mr. Shackleford muttered incredulously. Getting to his feet, he snatched up his cane. “I’ll not pass another minute under this roof. Come, Constance.”
Victoria’s mother, for all her unbending declarations of duty and stoicism, seemed utterly crestfallen. She gazed sorrowfully at her daughter. “What about our grandchildren?”
“If the girls decide to seek you out when they’re older, that will be their choice,” Victoria replied. “But I wouldn’t hold my breath, if I were you.” She gestured towards the door. “Go.”
Ramrod-straight, Mr. Shackleford marched fiercely toward the front entrance, the butt of his cane thudding against the floor with each step. His wife scuttled after him as if the hounds of hell were in hot pursuit.
Wrenching the door open, Victoria’s parents hastened down the steps, bound for the car. The chauffeur watched his master approach, looking mildly surprised. “Change of plan, Mr. Shackleford, sir?”
Mr. Shackleford rounded on the man. “Shut up, you inbred buffoon, and drive us home!”
Victoria and I watched the Shacklefords’ Rolls Royce disappear up the thoroughfare and out of sight. I turned towards my beloved, pressing myself into her. “Victoria…”
She wrapped both arms around my waist, and I could feel her body trembling against mine. “By God, I could do with a strong drink right now.”
“You deserve one,” I told her. Suddenly I understood how heartbreaking it must have been for Victoria to disown her parents like that, no matter how awful they were.
Releasing me, she managed a sad smile. “First let’s see if the girls are all right; let them know the ogres have departed.”
IV
We found the three of them in Victoria’s bedroom, all looking rather morose. Becky was using Victoria’s soft hairbrush on her sisters’ tresses, switching back and forth between the two girls.
Melinda seemed particularly ill at ease, her eyes puffy from tears. “Mummy, I don’t much like Grandpa,” she pouted as Victoria and I joined them on the bed.
“Neither do I, sweetheart,” Victoria agreed, stroking her hair. “But he’s gone now, him and your grandmother. They won’t be returning.”
“I’m not expected to give them a son for their estate, am I, Mother?” Becky said, making a face. “Or marry some boy they picked out for me.”
Sophia was rubbing her chin ponderously, the way she did when thinking hard about something. “There’s no ancient law or something saying Becky has to do that. Is there?”
Victoria had to smile at that. “No, no, darling. There’s no law like that in England. If your grandfather had his way, I’m sure there would be, though.”
“I’m glad they’re gone,” Becky declared. “It’s not right, him telling us what to do. They don’t even live here.”
“Still, a lake with a boat…” Melinda said after a moment of quiet, making us all laugh. And just like that, our little world seemed right again.
I leaned back against the headboard with my knees tucked beneath me, then took the hairbrush from Becky. She gave a contented sigh when I began running it through her blonde locks.
Victoria looked from Sophia to Melinda, then wrapped an arm around each. “Seeing as we’re all together, I think it might be a good time to talk about the… the special games we’ve been playing of late. Does anyone have any thoughts to share?”
Melinda nodded. “I was wondering if there are any rules. Who’s allowed to do things with who, that sort of thing. It’s all a bit confusing.”
“Let’s say there are no rules within Shadowglen,” Victoria declared. “If it feels right, we should follow our hearts, so long as no one gets pressured into doing anything they’d rather not. And I’m sure you’re all aware that what we do here must always stay a secret between the five of us. That’s very important.”
“Because there are laws against that kind of thing, aren’t there?” said Becky.
“I’m afraid so,” I told her, kissing her softly on the cheek. “The world isn’t ready for a family like ours. Perhaps one day it will be.”
“Me and Melinda are sweethearts now,” Sophia proudly declared. “Aren’t we, Melly?”
Melinda bobbed her head up and down. “We’ve decided we’d like to get married when we’re older. In secret, of course.”
“We don’t mind having fun with the rest of you, though!” Sophia was keen to point out. She scratched the tip of her nose self-consciously, eyes alight with mischief. “Shall we all, you know, have some fun right now? I’ve been thinking of naughty things all day.”
“Have you indeed?” Victoria crooned, peppering the twelve-year-old’s face with playful kisses.
I found myself twining an arm around Becky’s slender waist, my fingers brushing back and forth across her belly through the soft lamb’s wool cardigan she wore. She smiled back at me, then pulled my hand away. At first I thought she wasn’t comfortable having me touch her that way in front of her mother and sisters, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. Instead, she guided my hand beneath her skirt, placing it on the rise of her vulva. I could feel its warmth through the gusset of her knickers.
Victoria afforded us a familiar sultry regard, and I’d seen that look enough times to know exactly what it meant. My lady slipped her shoes off, settled back against the headboard and opened her arms, looking from Melinda to Sophia. “Come to me, my darlings.”
The girls settled easily into their mother’s embrace, stretching out on either side. An arm around each of their waists, Victoria kissed them both atop their heads. Simple maternal affection, you might have thought. But what happened next was anything but motherly.
Victoria reached beneath the girls’ dresses to settle her hands between their thighs, then flashed her eyes at me. “I can play that game too, Doris,” she said. “But aren’t I the lucky one – I have two pretty young girls to enjoy.”
I’d seen Victoria make love to Becky only the night before, but she hadn’t allowed herself to fully cross that line with her younger daughters, even though I was certain she’d wanted to. Now, though, whatever internal dilemma she’d struggled with must have been resolved. Or perhaps it was simply the spontaneity of lust that had driven her to action. I wondered how far she would allow things to progress with her two youngest, suspecting that, in the heat of the moment, there were no boundaries my mistress was not willing to cross.
Becky reached back to fumble beneath my skirt until her fingers were pressed against the damp cotton of my knickers.
“Let’s take everything off,” I murmured, eager to feel her bare skin upon mine.
We stripped out of our clothes, then knelt facing each other on the bed. Becky pressed our breasts together, her hand slipping between my thighs. I worked a finger back and forth through her hot, damp slit, cupping her arse with my free hand. We drifted together in a kiss, tongues meeting and mingling.
I turned to find the girls and their mother watching us intently. Victoria had hiked their dresses up around their waists and was now rubbing them through their knickers. She paused briefly to draw her own skirt up. “Touch me, girls. Touch me like I’m touching you.”
Sophia and Melinda stared wide-eyed at one another for a moment, then let their hands wander between their mother’s legs in a series of tentative dares, moving higher and higher, egging each other on. When their fingers settled on Victoria’s silky underthings, she breathed out a sigh of pleasure and opened her legs to accommodate the girls.
Becky and I played with each other as we watched them. I slipped a hand between her arse cheeks and found the warm, snug hole of her anus, penetrating it with a finger. Two fingers from my other hand filled her cunt, and I began to pump them back and forth.
Without much ado, Victoria climbed across Melinda and stepped off the bed. The girls gave each other confused looks.
“Aww, Mummy…” Melinda pouted.
“Come back!” beseeched Sophia.
“I simply must get rid of these damned clothes,” Victoria said, letting her skirt fall to the floor. “If you both intend to get naked like the rest of us, now’s the time.”
Melinda and Sophia offered one another wry looks, then scrambled out of their clothes with all due haste, tossing garments this way and that. Victoria unbuttoned her blouse at a more languid pace, pushing it away, then unhooking her brassiere to let her breasts spill free. Finally she slipped a pair of visibly wet knickers down her legs, casting them aside before settling back between the girls.
Liberated from their clothes, Sophia and Melinda were quick to nestle into their equally nude mother. Their hands wandered back to Victoria’s cunt, now free to explore the complex folds of a mature woman’s sex.
As for Victoria, she snaked her hands beneath the girls’ bums, seeking out their bare slits. “Give me a nice kiss, Melinda,” she murmured, pursing her lips.
Melinda reached up to plant her lips on Victoria’s, lingering there for a moment.
“Oh, I know you can do better than that. A proper kiss, if you please.”
“Like the kisses we do, Melly!” added Sophia with a hint of impatience.
This time Melinda put more passion into the exchange, slipping her tongue into her mummy’s mouth. Victoria kissed her little girl back with equal fervour, lovingly cupping Melinda’s bare bum.
When they finally drifted apart, Victoria turned her attention to Sophia. “Now I’d like a kiss from you, sweetheart.”
“Watch and learn, little sister,” said Sophia boldly, then melted into her mother. Their tongues engaged in a sort of wild choreography, darting in and out of each other’s mouths.
Though enthralled by this scene of maternal passion, my attention was soon snapping back to Becky as she let out a desperate groan. I realised she was coming against my fingers, so I pumped them in and out of her cunt, enjoying the way it gripped me tightly with each spasm of pleasure. My other finger was still nestled in Becky’s arse – it always seemed to make her orgasms that much more intense.
Resting her brow on my shoulder, Becky let the orgasm wash over her, little tics and jerks possessing her body. Finally spent, she twined both arms around me and gazed across at her mother and sisters. Absently moistening her lips, she studied Melinda and Sophie with great interest.
“They’re lovely, aren’t they?” she murmured. “I never really looked at my sisters like this. Not until now.” She glanced at me. “Do you think they’d like it if I…”
“Go on,” I told her, giving her a gentle nudge. “Show Melly and Sophie how much you love them.”
Detaching herself from me, Becky approached her sisters, who were kissing twin pathways down their mum’s body, hands busy between her thighs. First she stroked the girls’ calves, brushing her fingers across the smooth skin. Then she nuzzled the backs of their legs, working her way up to their buttocks, moving back and forth between the two of them. I saw Melinda raise her bum, legs parting to invite her older sibling’s kisses.
“That’s it, Rebecca,” Victoria purred. “Taste them. Lick your sisters.”
Becky spread Sophia’s buttocks open with both hands, then pressed a kiss into her sister’s vagina. Sophia arched her hips, an ecstatic whimper escaping her lips.
I watched in awe as Becky made love to her little sister, her tongue tracing a path through Sophia’s slit, then circling the pucker of her anus. “Oh, my g-goodness,” the child mewled, a delicious shiver coursing through her slender frame. Then Melinda’s mouth covered hers, and the two little girls shared a hungry kiss, fingering their mother’s cunt all the while.
Finally breaking away from one sister, Becky applied her mouth and tongue to the other, offering the smooth slit feather-light licks, then feasting voraciously on Melinda’s cunt and arse, as if keen to discover which method conjured the most pleasure, both for herself and her sisters.
“Oh, what an exquisite sight,” Victoria groaned, sweeping Becky’s hair back so it wouldn’t obscure her view. Then she allowed pleasure to claim her at last, writhing beneath her daughters as a mighty orgasm rattled out of her. Once sated, she grasped Sophia and Melinda’s wrists and held them fast, their fingers pressing into her sex as warm liquid oozed over them.
Sitting back on her haunches, Becky watched her mother come. I came up behind, wrapping an arm around her waist. “All right, my love?” I asked.
She peered back at me with lusty eyes. “It’s all so… so overwhelming,” she admitted. “But I like it very much.” She placed a warm hand on my thigh. ”I need to spend again. Will you help me, Doris?”
“Let me do it, Rebecca,” Victoria cooed. “Come feed me your sweet cunt. I haven’t tasted you yet.”
Becky rolled her eyes, colour flushing her cheeks. “I’m sure there’s no need for such crude language, Mother,” she said, then stood up on the bed. She navigated her way deftly through the tangle of bodies until she’d reached the headboard.
Victoria peered up at her fourteen-year-old’s tangle of soft curls; the neat crease of her sex. “Turn around with your back to the headboard,” she told the girl. “Then kneel down just above my face.”
Face flushed with desire, Becky carefully lowered herself down to her mother’s waiting mouth. Victoria prised her open, then ran her tongue through the entire length of her oldest daughter’s cunt, lapping at the juicy treat.
“Mmmm, yes,” Becky moaned, stretching both arms out to grasp the headboard behind, her long hair tumbling down past her shoulders and across her breasts. Sophia and Melinda held hands while they stared spellbound at their older sister, now brushing Victoria’s mouth with her pussy.
“We should definitely try that some time, Sophie,” proposed Melinda.
“Mmm,” Sophia agreed with a quick nod, unable to take her eyes away from the lewd sight.
Moments later, Becky came in her mother’s mouth, barely managing to swing a leg clear of Victoria’s head before collapsing onto the bed. Sophia and Melinda were quick to seize upon their dazed older sister, peppering her with kisses as their hands roamed over her body. Delighted to be the focus of her younger sisters’ attention, Becky cupped their bottoms and drew them close, the three girls now a tangle of writhing limbs and breathless giggles.
I settled next to Victoria. Sharing a torrid kiss, we quickly sought out each other’s cunts, engaging in a round of vigorous fingering while we watched the girls at play.
“What a beautiful sight,” Victoria marvelled.
“They love each other,” I said. “They’ll always love each other. That’s how sisters should be.”
Kissing a pathway down between Becky’s legs, Sophia briefly paused to take in the sight of her older sister’s lightly-downed vulva before flicking her tongue up and down the delicate slit. “You taste so nice, Becky,” she told her sister sincerely, then went to work.
Melinda slung a leg over Becky’s head and spread her pussy open with two fingers. “Will you lick it please, Becky? I’ll give you next week’s pocket money if you do.”
Becky smiled up at her youngest sister. “You don’t need to bribe me, silly girl. I want to lick you.”
“Oh, good,” Melinda said with a grin. “Off you go, then.”
Becky drew her tongue up through Melinda’s bare slit, eliciting a delighted mewl of pleasure from the ten-year-old. Sophia was watching them as she licked Becky, pausing to suck on her older sister’s clit every now and then.
Victoria and I fingered each other to a quick orgasm as we watched her daughters make love. Then, having had their wicked way with Becky, Melinda and Sophia crawled between their mother’s legs with breathless enthusiasm and applied their mouths to her sex. Victoria’s eyes shone with adoration as she stroked their hair, whispering sweet words to them. “My beautiful girls. Taste Mummy. My beautiful, beautiful girls.”
Like her mother, Becky was ready for more. She pulled me away from the others and climbed over me, the two of us now mouth to cunt. By then, Victoria’s bedroom was thick with the smell of female arousal. I breathed it in, the heady aroma making my stomach flutter with excitement. Parting Becky’s buttocks with my fingers, I sought out the dusky promise of her anus, bathing it with my tongue. Becky groaned out loud, her breath warm against my mons.
I think we must have lost track of time. Truth be told, I don’t think time meant much that evening. At one point, Victoria had the younger girls perched on the edge of the bed with their legs slung wide open while she knelt on the floor and made love to them with her mouth and fingers. Sophia and Melinda settled into a long, deep kiss as their mother went at them.
Later on, as Victoria and I made love to Becky, we were drawn from our own pleasure by the sight of the two younger sisters entwined in Victoria’s vanity chair, their pussies pressed snugly together. “Let’s never be apart, Melly,” Sophia was murmuring as she ground against her sister. “Together always.”
Grasping Sophia’s bum cheeks, Melinda pumped her own hips back and forth in unison with her sister. “T-together always!” she moaned, and the pact was sealed with yet another kiss. Oh, how those sweet little girls loved to kiss one another.
I suppose there must have come a point when we were all too spent to continue, but my recollections are hazy in that regard. I do recall how we lay tangled together on Victoria’s bed, drifting in and out of light sleep until we were roused to wakefulness once more, and our lovemaking continued anew. At times, the room rang with laughter and cries of ecstasy. At others, we shared soft words of devotion, accompanied by a few tears of joy.
For now, you see, we were truly together, all of us. A family bound by the most intimate love. A love without limits.
Finally, we dimmed the lights and allowed exhaustion to take us.
V
It must have been the chill against my bare skin that woke me. I tried to cover myself with the quilt, but with the dozing girls strewn out across the bed, it was all but impossible. There was just enough light in the room for me to note Victoria’s absence.
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I noticed the curtains had been drawn back a little ways, the French doors leading out onto the balcony slightly ajar. Victoria and I sometimes spent time out there after one of our passionate liaisons, naked beneath the moonlight, entwined in one another’s arms.
I fumbled around on the floor and found Victoria’s blouse, slipping it on, then padded out onto the balcony to join her. She stood with both arms resting on the railing, her silvery gown undulating gently in the breeze. The morning was still nothing more than a thin orange band on the horizon, the birds beginning to stir in the trees.
I crept up behind my beloved and twined my arms around her waist. She peered back at me with a smile. “Are you all right?” I asked.
After a moment of pause, Victoria turned back towards the rising sun. “Yes. Yes, I am. I have my children. I have you. I’ve lost my parents, and a good number of years to an unhappy marriage, but I’ve gained enough to make up the difference. I finally feel able to put the past aside.” She placed a cool palm against my cheek, giving me her full regard. “And what about you, my love? How do you fare?”
I took her hand and kissed it, my lips lingering there for a long moment.
What would I have told her, I wonder, if I’d had sufficient words? That I’d been remade, perhaps. That the fretful, downtrodden girl I’d once been had transformed into a confident, contented young woman. I had a place in the world now, a place where I mattered, where I was loved and needed. Having lived in the dark for so long, I used to wonder if I’d ever manage to find my way back into the light. But against all the odds, I’d done just that. We both had, Victoria and I.
And as much as I loved Shadowglen, I was beginning to see that the old house which had ushered in my changing fortunes would not contain me for long. After the orphanage, there were no walls sturdy enough to do that. It was home for now, but I had every intention of seeing what else the world had to offer. Only this time, I would not be alone.
Of course, when I replied, my words were far simpler. “I’m very happy,” I told her earnestly. “I love you, Victoria.”
“And I you, my darling.”
Together, hand in hand, we watched the rising sun usher in a brand new day.
Epilogue
Is this the end of my story, you ask? No. No, of course not. Life goes on, as does its narrative.
My time at Shadowglen was merely a prologue to a larger tale, but this is the part of my life I have set out to recount, the part that moulded me into the woman I am. And now it is told. There is more to the story, but as I said at the beginning, I am old now, and lack the time or inclination to relate the rest of it in any great detail.
But throughout my life, Victoria and her daughters were a constant presence, so I would be remiss, dear reader, not to tell you what became of them.
In 1939 war broke out, and Shadowglen’s close proximity to London meant we had to evacuate to the country. Unlike many parents in the capital who made the heart-wrenching decision to ship their children off to stay with families miles away, Victoria had the means to acquire a second property in Somerset, a picturesque cottage where we could live out the conflict. Along with Victoria, Sophia, Melinda and myself, we took in two young evacuees.
Becky, eighteen by then, did her bit for the war effort, joining the Wrens as an air mechanic. We had a hard time picturing our Becky in grease-stained overalls and wielding a spanner, but she excelled at the job, receiving a commendation once the fighting was done. Thankfully, the air base where she worked was close enough that she found time to visit us frequently. It was also where she met her husband, a kind and soft-spoken Royal Air Force pilot. It saddened us that we no longer had Becky for a lover, but it couldn’t be denied that she and Henry were a splendid match.
During those years of conflict, Victoria permitted the use of Shadowglen as a military hospital, but when the war finally came to an end, none of us ever returned to that old house.
With Sophia and Melinda away at university, Victoria and I fulfilled a promise we’d made to each other and spent the next couple of decades travelling the world together, though returning frequently to England to see her daughters.
In the intervening years, Becky gave birth to two beautiful boys, and Victoria was delighted to finally have grandchildren of her own. And true to their word, Melinda and Sophia had settled into a long term relationship with one another, albeit in secrecy. Mind you, they were always happy to share their bed with their mother and me whenever we paid a visit.
Victoria and I were able to be more open about our own relationship – the 1960s ushered in a more liberal age, allowing us to tentatively reveal ourselves to the world. We were never able to marry, but at least we could finally let ourselves be known to a discreet few as a lesbian couple.
Then, inevitably, those years arrived when we all began to say our goodbyes – to the world, to each other.
In 1981 Victoria was diagnosed with cancer and passed away peacefully in our home later that same year, surrounded by myself and her daughters. I can’t begin to tell you how hard that was for me, but even at the end, she looked so very beautiful, a smile playing on her lips when she closed her eyes for the very last time. I would never love another as I had loved my dear Victoria.
Sophia died naturally in 2011, and two weeks after that Melinda followed her. For most of their adult lives, they were known as ‘the spinster sisters’, with most believing the two of them had never known true love. How wrong they were. Theirs was a passion that endured their whole lives, even if they could never speak of it to the outside world. They had never spent a day apart, and when Sophia passed, I believe Melinda was unable to live without her sister, best friend and lover.
Becky and I are the only two left now. After Henry died, she and I chose to throw in our lot together, and now we live as companions on the South Coast. We speak often of our time at Shadowglen, always without sadness or melancholy. Time heals, if we allow it to. The pain fades, and for the most part, it’s the happy memories that remain. In that way, we’re able to carry on.
And so, dear reader, I believe my tale is told. Make of it what you will. It’s been a good life. I’ve loved and laboured in equal measure, but when all is said and done, I have few regrets to speak of. How many of us can say as much?
I’m certain one day I’ll see Victoria, Sophia and Melinda again, but until then, there are things that keep me tied to this world. It’s my turn to make tea, apparently. I’m sure I made it yesterday, but Becky insists it was her. I think she’s having me on. She’s a tricky one, our Becky.
The End
Note from JetBoy: My sincerest gratitude to BlueJean, who proved to be an infinitely resourceful writing partner. My expectations were high, and he exceeded them at every step. Thanks, mate.