Chapter 12: The Homestead

CHUCK

It was going to be a very interesting experience when I got both of the girls back to my homestead.

Life is never easy. The pleasure that I had from being jiggled about bareback, pressed up against the loving warmth of Amina could have been spoiled by the attitude of the lanky girl walking alongside the hindquarters of Castor.

I think I was more surprised than ever to discover that the stupid little bitch was not causing me to be upset.

When I had started out on my journey that morning, one of the things that concerned me was how should I initiate an intimate relationship with Amina. From what Madame Grenouille had told me, the sooner I instigated a latching the easier it would be for her, and the quicker I could relax as well.

I had few reservations about her whatsoever. As far as I could ascertain from her attitude, she was perfectly happy in my company and only withdrew her eyes from me, just for a moment to peer downwards at Cassie and give her a superior and knowing smirk.

In fact, over the previous half hour or so, I felt as though many of my fears and worries were just no more. I had never felt so confident. The feeling of euphoria was strange, as if partly intoxicated without a worry in the world. Everything was going swell and nothing could go wrong. That exhilaration itself caused me to think again, nothing could be that good, something HAD to go wrong.

It was quite clear that things had not gone the way as intended since early morning. Almost everything seemed to have gone, I could say 'wrong', but I should rather say that nothing had worked out as I had anticipated. First of all, I had never predicted the traumatic events with Beth. Secondly, I had not foreseen that I should have ended up with two housekeepers. And thirdly, I had never imagined that Madame would have insisted that I purchased so many useless goods.

If I had thought that I was to be alone out in the wilds, Madame had disillusioned me, suggesting that she would be taking more than a passing interest in my progress, and inferring that I should need her help in establishing a 'family' home.

What a joke! In my mind the two things were not compatible, the family environment and the presence of a brothel madam.

I had lots to learn about the place in which I lived.

My mind was jumping all over the place and, as Madame was at the forefront, I considered the purchases that we had just made. They posed a problem. Oh, I'm sure that the difficulty would be resolved in time. The tricky thing was that the Homestead was simply a log cabin, comprising a tiny living room and nothing more than a rabbit hutch that comprised the bedroom.

While a little larger than one room, it simply had one bed in the rear which could be folded up when the thunder box was in use. There I was, talking about a lavatory in the local common vernacular.

The other room was hardly much bigger, simply a table with a couple of chairs, a small wood stove incorporating an oven and little more than a tap which flowed into a stone basin. That was the integral kitchen. There was no room in which to store all these clothes.

I glanced behind at the large pack on each side of the horse spread over his loins. I also considered where Cassie should sleep that night. Oh, don't get me wrong here, there was no way that I was considering letting the two girls sleep together on the bed. The small kitchen/dayroom was hardly big enough to swing a cat. I was already thinking that, in there, the only way one could end up lengthways was by having your head or feet under the table.

One solution that did occur to me was that I incorporate the stable and small barn to which the log cabin was attached. The only trouble with that was that, not only did I need a stable for my horse, but there was no doubt about it, I needed another one, horse and stabling, I mean.

The immediate solution was quite simple, although I still had a problem working out where to put all these clothes.

It was a pleasant evening. And tomorrow, being March 1^st, the first day of spring hereabouts, the weather would change, should be even better. OK, we would have ten weeks of rain showers every day without fail. They would last for an hour in the daylight and a few hours every other night, all of which served to help the seedlings grow. The climate couldn't have been better if it were arranged with farming in mind.

Was that peculiar?

As we drew up before the log cabin, my heart was in my mouth as I realised that this was the time that Amina would have to disclose that she was almost undressed. How could I make her embarrassment less awkward for her?

She was facing slightly to the left of the horse so I drew Cassie up on my right hand side. "Is the weather still warm enough that you can manage without the penguin suit?" I posed the question but gave her little choice, "You're not to wear that again until you have to go into town, I hope you understand?"

"Yes," was the churlish reply.

Her attitude didn't worry me, I expected nothing less. "Well, take it all off."

"What should I put on?"

"Put on?"

She looked at the pack bags, "There's some shirts and things..."

"I'm sure there are. But you wear what you're told to wear. You don't put anything on without my permission. Your first lesson here, Lesson One: you do what you're told, and nothing else."

"But?"

I grasped Amina quite firmly and gave her what I hoped was an affectionate look, because the purpose of what I had to say was really to shock the arse out of Cassie. "You know perfectly well, why you've come here." The look on her face was a picture as I asked Amina to tell Casie what happened to all the orphan girls, once they got put with a guardian.

"From what I've seen, most of them end up preggers almost as soon as they leave the orphanage. There's Josie, Samantha, and Deidre, Kaz and, of course, my friend Sharon, they're all in the family way." She looked up at me as if asking for confirmation that she had said the right thing.

It was a simple matter to put her mind at rest.

I had no intention of taking Cassie to bed in the near future, but she wasn't to know that, no, I had intentions for a little payback, "You're obviously going to get fucked. Now think of me how you like, but I don't want to make what should be a beautiful occasion at all uncomfortable for you. I know that you have hardly had that ugly dress off in the last three years. Quite clearly you have to get used to being stripped. Today I can assure you I won't take advantage of your nakedness. Today, you have the chance to get accustomed to going round without anything on."

"Why?" she started.

I jumped in, "Because I like looking at young females without clothes on." I also wanted to make her feel uncomfortable.

There was a quiet satisfaction in seeing the look of utter shock that the female fixed me with. "Yes, of course you want to argue." She was just about open her mouth when I interjected, "Oh, if you just do what you're told, you can keep on your thong, if you want to object I have no objection if you traipse around here with a bare pussy." I raised a lascivious smirk, "I think you'd look pretty tempting panty-less, so are you going to complain?"

If looks could kill! "You don't mean it?"

I don't know whether my reaction would be called a snigger, "I mean exactly what I say. And if you don't believe me, I shall let you wear something else."

"What?" her eyes lit up.

"It's quite simple, I've always thought you would look good with a few stripes on your bum from that tawse. Whilst you've got it in your hand, let me remind you, it's not an ornament."

She didn't move.

I adopted what I hoped was a gleeful expression, possibly quite sadistic. "And if I have to get down from the horse and thrash your backside, you can be quite sure that no one will hear your screams here. We are miles away from the nearest neighbour, and I do mean miles. I'm telling you that if I wanted to thrash you for an hour, there is not one person who would at all be interested in your predicament. Nobody would even know, out here."

She looked around and realisation came to her that we were miles away from the nearest other habitation.

I think that was a bit extreme, and the only purpose in my scaring her was just that, to scare a very nasty little piece of work so she would do what I wanted without making too much of an issue about it.

"Get the clothes off. It doesn't matter where you put them because they'll be washed tomorrow, well before you next need to use them."

She turned away from me and started unfastening the ties to her large pinafore. I'm sure she was chuntering to herself, probably abusing me, but I let her blow off steam providing that I didn't hear what she said. I think now, for the first time ever, I felt sorry for her. I really had laid it on hard.

"There's no need to put your arms in front of your fried eggs. There's nothing there to interest me." Strangely, as I gazed down onto her, I was interested. Two very perky nipples were excited by their exposure to fresh air, I found the picture quite arousing. Though her breasts were no more than simply little pointed puffy things, quite surprisingly, the very fact that she tried to shield them from me, made their appearance more inviting in my eyes.

I snorted in a derisory fashion, "You are bony. You know that you have quite a red face? You must get fit." I looked at Amina, too, "Both of you will complete your exercises each day and, with the space we have here, a two and half mile run will do you no harm."

There and then I decided I really must get back in the habit of a regular jog each day. Dammit, I was wary about putting on weight. I used to be fit. This was the incentive I needed, to follow a couple of almost bare bums around part of my land each morning. The idea was quite invigorating.

"Off you go, and take the clothing around the other side of the cabin. You can let yourself in and stoke up the fire. There are plenty of logs just outside the door.

With Cassie out of the way, it was the opportunity to give Amina the chance to dismount. Amina was quite nervous, "You want me to take my clothes off, too?"

The idea of having two semi-naked young women running around appealed to me but I couldn't really ask her to, could I?

Gently, I lifted her chemisier up over her arms. Of course, now, her breasts were completely open to fresh air and to my view. I really appreciated the roundness of her breasts that appeared to complement the curves of her body. It was not particularly cold, but again I noted how her nipples, very tiny ones, almost like pimples, pushed out a little harder.

"You look lovely, so pretty." There was no need to tell her that it was her full breasts to which I referred. She blushed slightly and glanced downwards. "Yes," I confirmed, "really beautiful."

She had very little self-confidence and was amazingly shy. She blushed timidly and then enquired, "Aren't you being a bit hard on Cassie? I know she's always nasty to some people, but..."

"I think you know, as well as I do, that Cassie was going to find it very hard with whichever Guardian decided to choose her. I'm going to be quite firm for a day or two. No, I'm not going to beat her black and blue. I might give that impression, but that is only to get her to comply with what I want. I'm not going to put up with big long arguments and a load of abuse. Please don't take it to heart. I don't think I'm a really violent person, or nasty."

I was surprised that she accepted my words at face value, "She can be a bit outspoken. You got her measure within a couple of minutes of meeting her."

The response I had was to nod sagely, as though I were a very perceptive person. There was no way that I could suggest that I'd ever come across Cassie before.

"Yes, she is a bit outspoken." I thought that was an understatement, but decided not to make an issue out of it. "We have to go in now," I suggested, lifting her up high under her arms from the horse's back. I tried not to stare at any part of her nakedness as I swung her out to one side before letting her down gently with one arm for her to land on her toes beside the flank of the horse.

I too swung my leg over and slid myself off the back of Castor, "Better get this old fellow stabled," I added, patting his flank firmly, "and relieve him of the double pack."

"Is he really old?"

"No, not really, it was just an expression."

As I took hold of the bridle I was surprised to see my companion was standing there, all of her clothing in her arms. Within a second of landing on the ground she must have stripped off her culottes. She was dressed in nothing more than a yellow thong which contrasted delicately with the shade of her skin. She really was a beautiful young girl. I don't know why I had thought of her as chubby but that wasn't the case, she was quite muscular but not to the extent that her pectorals or arm or leg muscles stood out. What was noticeable was the manner in which she walked, very gracefully.

Her attitude was difficult to gauge. She had adopted a look that, at first sight, was apologetic but then, she displayed a personal satisfaction that she had managed to disrobe without any request of mine. Yes, of course she was shy, for I'm sure she'd never been topless in front of anybody else before. Topless! I found myself whistling as I took a very deep breath into my teeth, she was almost bottomless too, and what rounded cheeks she had!

'You don't have to, ' I was about to start, but bit my tongue before one word had crossed my lips. Going through my mind all the way back had been a silly idea that it would be very pleasant to have two naked young ladies hanging around my home.

Again, I knew it and I think that Amina knew it, we were going to make love tonight. I had to play this very carefully, and not suggest that she ought to get covered up in case it made her more nervous. I must take advantage of the fact that she had overcome her hesitation and set it as a precedent.

I complimented her, "You really look good like that, I've never seen anyone move so gracefully." I almost asked if she had ever been a dancer. She was all sex, but I didn't want to say that, it was too much in her face. "When you walk, you really look beautiful. Now, come with me to the stables, I need to sort out some bedclothes." Something better than coarse blankets was called for.

On the way back into the cabin I asked myself what Cassie's reaction would be to the nudity of her companion. I really needed to accompany Amina. If she were on her own I could just imagine the load of abuse that Cassie would load onto her if she knew Amina had stripped off willingly. If she found that out, Amina's life wouldn't be worth living.

It was a relief, inside the cabin nothing was said, but whenever I was in the proximity of Cassie you could cut the air with a knife. For the time being I decided not to make an issue of it.

I looked at the stew, it was the last day of my stew pot. I quickly realised that my menu would have to change, there was only enough in it for two people.

You have probably heard of the Frontiersman's Stew. I had heard newcomers to Hartglade make comments that suggest that it is a meal for barbarians. You should hear what people believe is actually put into a frontiersman's pot. I had heard of everything from snakes and rats to dormice and crows. Perhaps there is some truth in those tall stories. I reckon if I were hungry enough I would eat a rat, VERY well cooked, but Frontiersmen are like anybody else, because they throw in a nice bit of beef as the main ingredient if they have it.

Very few people know how to make a decent stew. Craggs did, but the only way-out things that I saw him drop in were selected weeds from the hedgerows, and roots and herbs that he had picked up on his travels. I think he would have preferred it if I were never allowed in the kitchen, but from time to time I would be called on to prepare the next meal for when he had a long day. That was when I learned about all the weird and wonderful flavours that you can get with the herbs and wild vegetables that were there for the taking.

After a couple of arguments, when he insisted that one herb would not go with the root of another plant, he finally relented and gave me a few lessons on how to conjure up a decent pot.

I don't think I recognised how much Craggs had taught me about cooking until I moved out here and embarked on my first stewpot.

The day to cook the stew was always on a Saturday. But, of course, it was never tasted until the Sunday. Saturday, towards the end of the afternoon was when the smallholders just wanted to sell off their last bit of produce before returning home. That was the time that you could get anything from the tasty bits of scrag end of meat to bruised and rotten vegetables. Cut off the bad bits and there was nothing wrong with them. I'd even seen Craggs buy a box of almost rotten fruit, cut out all the bad, and throw the rest in, but it tasted nothing like stewed fruit after grating a bovis* root into the pot.

"How did you make that?" queried Amina once the stew started to reach boiling point and the smells got around the tiny room.

"You always start with the meat. It doesn't matter what the main ingredient is. I like it best with lamb or beef. This, I started off last Thursday when I had a couple of rabbits. After skinning and dressing them I simmered them in some red wine that had gone bad. That's what gives it its almost black colour this week. There was no really cheap meat at the market, but I got some goats meat. It's useful for nothing else but a stew. That was prepared on the Saturday night and simmered until I went to bed. It was put on the hob again the following morning with some pearl barley to give it body."

Amina stared at me in wonder. I don't know why. This was about the only recipe I knew.

"Then I threw in a few vegetables, swede and parsnip give it the sweet flavour. There were also some carrots and a stick of celery. The potatoes went in last or they would end up as a mush in the bottom." I tended to put a few potatoes in every couple of days.

"There's something else?" she sniffed

"I haven't been out to stock up on wild plants yet, haven't had the time."

She frowned doubtfully, giving the stew a stir, "So what's that?" She lifted the wooden spoon from the bottom of the pan and indicated some hard bits, "Are they roots or what?"

Laughingly I responded, "I think I ate up the last of the meat in the pot a couple of days ago. There wasn't anything else, so I got out some sweet chestnuts that had been kept in the cold since last autumn. They give it a quite distinctive, sweet flavour."

"And what the heck is that?"

I followed her pointing finger, "I had a couple of sliced and roasted parsnips left over. I suppose I should have chopped them up."