Chapter 9

That autumn was idyllic. The colours were terrific, the weather mild. Bex rode with me as I toured the area, and at home I had six other lovelies to care for, or who cared for me! Every one of them was uniquely special, including, specifically, Mary Thomas, who bloomed among us.

A senior Police Officer, Superintendent Denton, came, in uniform, with WPC Howard, and asked to see Mary, Libby, and myself. I took them to my office, which was now equipped with sufficient chairs for more than one or two visitors, and I walked to the kitchen to ask for refreshments and for Libby and Mary to attend. My two ladies came to the office bearing a tray with a carafe of coffee and accoutrements and a tray of savoury pastries. The Officers rose as they entered.

“You must be Mary Thomas,” the Superintendent said with a smile, then turned to Libby, “and you must be Libby? Who suggested we ask for help from the Training Centre?”

“Yes, sir,” they agreed together.

“Very good. I’m Superintendent Denton, and my colleague is WPC Howard. I’m here to reassure you, Mary, that the house where you were held – illegally, I have to say – has been raided. There were, as you know, a number of women held there, and they are now in rather safer places. The men who abused them, and you, are now enslaved and carrying out various useful tasks to benefit the district. So thank you for escaping and talking to my colleague to give us the information we needed to deal with the place. Libby, a group of trainers from the Training Centre came with us and supported us in the process. The Centre has actually been instrumental in rehoming the ladies.” He then continued, “Mary, if you wish, you can also be re-homed.”

Mary looked at me. “Sir,” but trailed off.

“Do you wish to leave, Mary?”

“What? Oh, sir, no! Please, I want to stay. I love it here.”

I looked at the Superintendent. “Mary is certainly free to leave if she wishes, but we would be sad to see her go. But, sir, perhaps we might have this coffee while it’s still hot?”

He laughed. “Priorities. I see you have them right. Ladies, I wish you every happiness for the future in your new home here.” He looked back at me, “It certainly seems that the estate is coming back to life. We are very impressed.”

So we sat and enjoyed coffee, five of us. When we’d finished and completed the social courtesies, Mary escorted them to the door, leaving me with Libby, who proceeded to undress. “We’re a bit short of time,” she explained, as she leant on my desk. You can be sure my jeans and boxers were around my ankles as I stood behind her and thrust into her depths. That position is particularly rousing, as fas as I’m concerned. I was going to help her along with a finger, but she was already there, so I just enjoyed her smooth curves and dangling breasts. I held out with difficulty until I felt her spasm on me, then filled her full.

Autumn ended and winter began, but not the heavy snow of the previous year, just bitter cold. We retreated indoors as far as possible, other than necessary outings for food or to exercise the horses. Bex was getting quite large, and we were feeling the baby move, something that fascinated all the residents of the house, and I insisted that Lisa and I do the heavy work, though Bex protested. I held her close, kissed her head. “Bex, darling, let’s get this one born before you start the heavy stuff.”

“My mother worked in the stables and exercised horses right up to a couple of weeks before I was born!”

“That’s as may be, my love, but that was before our society fell apart. It would be a nightmare getting you to a hospital if things went wrong.”

She assented, eventually, but insisted on supervising, and, indeed, on riding a little each day in the paddock.

As Christmas approached, I was at a loss for gifts for my ladies. My mother, though, found a couple of ancient Singer sewing machines, a treadle one and a hand-cranked one. I was going to keep quiet about it, but talking to Lottie realised the machines would be a way they could make gifts for each other. When they were delivered, they came with several bolts of cloth, soft, fine cotton, dyed linen, woven wool. We had a big meeting.

“Everyone, I’ve been worried about finding gifts for my lovely ladies. You know that we now have sewing machines, and there is with them a supply of cloth. There is also paper and card, coloured tissue. I hope that, between you, you have the skills to make things for each other.” They looked at each other with varying degrees of confidence. Then I continued, “There are also some cooking ingredients to which we’ve not had access. So I think we can probably have a good celebration.”

The girls were nodding. “Master Ralph,” Sophie piped up, “what can we give you?”

“Sophie, you and the other girls have given me the best gift you possibly could, and you continue to give me that every day. That,” I went on, “is the gift of yourselves. Your love, your care, your beauty, there is nothing better.”

To my shock, they burst into tears, all of them except Lottie who retained a vestige of control. Even she had a tear trickling down her cheek. But Sophie stood, came to me and pushed me back into my seat, then curled up in my lap, sniffling. The other girls came over, one by one, to stand or kneel next to me and place a hand somewhere on my person.