Story: The Secret Slave. Part 14.

Sorry for the long hiatus. Here's the next chapter of Sophie's long journey. Never have I felt such affinity for a character and it saddens me to see where this is headed. I honestly did try to go easy on her and to help her out - resulting in me dragging my feet for days and weeks - but the story just wrote itself, taking her to the point of no return.

by Camille Langtry

Sophie sat quietly in the corner of the covered wagon. Her hands were painfully tied behind her back, forcing her into an uncomfortable position on the narrow wooden bench. She had tried to protest as she was unceremoniously dragged by her captor, but her insistence that she was not a slave was summarily ignored.

"One more word from yer and I'd put this in yer mouth, girl," the younger of the slave catchers barked and showed her what looked like a rope gag, dark and gnawed from repeated use. "Is that clear?"

"Yes, suh. I be quiet suh," she replied, switching back to her negro slave talk without even thinking about it. Given the circumstances it seemed futile to convince them of her real identity. Neither did it seem particularly wise. Perhaps the best way out of her situation was just getting a hold of Miss Elizabeth, who would somehow solve this mess for her.

Story: Florence, Lady Cranwell. Chapter 24.

by Jackie J

Janette looked at the floor of the carriage when it entered the gateway to Stoneleigh to his surprise and relief the security at the gate waved through the carriage knowing exactly who it’s occupant was. Drawing up to the main entrance to the manor the door of the carriage was opened by a uniformed footman who bowed respectfully.

He knew well not to raise his head until Miss Cat had passed.

Janette stumbled little on the steps caught up in his skirts and a helping hand from Sharista steadied him.

“Relax Janette eyes are on you.”

If Sharista’s words were meant to calm him they didn’t and he was becoming increasingly aware of the restrictiveness of his skirts gathering around him.

Story: Florence, Lady Cranwell. Chapter 23.

by Jackie J

Jonathan had been in his rooms gathering some belongings to take when he left Cranwell. It disturbed him that there was not a trace of Florence anywhere to be found but it was years since she left.

Jonathan having heard chatter from down in the manor and the sound of a dinner gong brought him from his thoughts down the stairway and into the parlour. His mother, maid Cathy was in attendance serving drinks to her Mistress and a guest. Sharista stood and with a contrived meekness offered a bobbed curtsy and her hand forward to the approaching Jonathan.

“Lord Cranwell, your servant Miss Sharista Matrina.”

“I understand Miss Summerville made you are aware of your mother's wish to reverse roles with her and to be the maid at Cranwell, some years ago now and what an accomplished maid she truly is. The level of devotion to her Mistress is remarkable and to be admired, don’t you agree Lord Cranwell?”

Story: Florence, Lady Cranwell. Chapter 22.

by Jackie J

Time passes as only time can, what went before consigned to history with only the present and the future of any relevance. Downton hall well managed by the dutiful housekeeper, Lucy Fairbright prospered. Cranwell manor, the domain of an increasingly confident and established Mistress Janet Summerville, well served by her now accomplished and totally subservient maid Cathy needed little improvement to the status quo. Still the venue of many ladies’ luncheons although the previous host now served such luncheons with a servility and humility befitting of the most well-trained maid servant that both surprised and amused many of the guests.

Three years had passed and it was if this situation had always existed. Sharista Matrina milked both estates of their wealth and grew richer and more powerful from her base at Stoneleigh, Lady Isabelle a mindless invalid locked away in the north tower of Stoneleigh being oblivious to the changes that had taken place, Stoneleigh having been transformed to become the destination of choice for those of a certain persuasion, many of who had previously visited the grubby suites of 27 Grafton Street.

Sharista’s client base had expanded considerably since moving her operation to Stoneleigh. Not everyone would be minded to indulge their fetish in the relative squalor of the city but within the luxurious setting of Stoneleigh manor well that was different. Protected by her influential client base things could not be better for Sharista Matrina. From her back-street brothel in the city she was truly a woman of substance enjoying the comforts of her country estate. Sharista never forgot the roots of her rise to riches and her stupefied pet remained her constant companion. No longer harnessed, there was no need now, Winifred deformed by the length of her confinement in the insidious harness could no longer stand even if she wished to and o the end of its leash the mute pet obediently crawled naked by Sharista’s side.