714 Bridle Path Ch. 01

"Control freaks," Mike suggested.

"Yes," she confirmed, nodding. "Control freaks. And unlike you and your wife, they almost never know what they are talking about, even if they consider themselves experts."

"I know, right?" he chuckled. "Rich people, go figure."

"You and your wife would have been brilliant botanists, I think," Marie pointed out. "Your roses, sir, I am in awe of them."

"I'll be making scions for you to experiment with soon enough," he said, looking in the direction of the greenhouse that was the rosarium. Grandifloras took up one side, floribundas the other. In the middle rows, were Karen's prized hybrid teas, centered around the Black Prince. "I'm sure you'll achieve even more things than I could with them."

"Perhaps, now that you've done all the hard work," she quipped, smirking. "What of the plans for the onsen and the Japanese gardens?"

"Tunde mentioned that you seem to be on-schedule for early June," Mike mused. "The maples are almost ready, he said, and he and Dave already have the lots in place and ready to go."

"They're a great team, those two, and a very big help to me," she said, nodding. "They do all the heavy lifting I cannot anymore."

"Given that Dave is probably fifteen years older than you, I'm sure he'll appreciate that observation no end," Mike laughed. "Last chance, do you need anything?"

Marie took a few moments to think the question through. "Maybe some sprouts for more fairy inkcap? The crop by the waterfall isn't up yet, so I cannot harvest, but I want to have some more ready very soon."

"Consider it done," he said, nodding and then turning and exiting the greenhouse. Marie watched him go, sighing to herself. She'd almost been married, once. Thankfully, it hadn't ultimately happened.

Still, she sighed.

***

A newly private bedroom on the second floor...

Trilby shivered and restrained a moan as she clenched the pillow between her thighs, squirming on it as she felt her pussy getting wetter and wetter, her body tingling. She might not admit it to anyone, but Bubbles had been very right about Trilby shaving herself down there and the difference it made to her personal pleasure. If she kept it maintained, things were much quicker and easier, and her pants and panties felt wonderful against the smooth skin. Making herself cum was easier than ever.

She choked back a loud grunt, gripping one of her breasts and fondling it. She squeezed her eyes shut, pretending the hand was someone else's. She was kneeling on the floor, one of her firmer pillows wedged beneath her, and she rode it lustily, feeling quite shameless in the privacy of her own room. It might've seemed strange to anyone else, what with her being the hippie of the group and so on, but she'd always been a very private person where possible, probably because she grew up with virtually no privacy on the commune. She'd secretly gotten angry as a child that the other kids could see her pee in the communal washrooms.

Now she had her own grand room, and she shared a bathroom with her friend, probably her best friend, Val. True, Bubbles sometimes had boundary issues, but Trilby didn't actually mind, and had never said anything to begin with, because her friend made her smile.

And also horny, which is why she was disgracing herself on the clock right now. True, she was well ahead of schedule, so nobody minded if she took a break. It was common enough practice, and nobody was harder on Trilby than Trilby was when it came to getting her stuff done. So if she felt like she deserved a break and a quick orgasm as a reward, well... who would know?

The one hand kept fondling her tits while the other strummed her clit, making her shudder and restrain yet another gasp. Masturbating like this seemed to be becoming part of her routine of late. She's started pleasuring herself maybe a few times a week now, which was rather unusual. True, sex had never exactly been hard to find if she wanted it on the commune, but given her choices, she rarely wanted it. Smelly hippies didn't really do it for her, after all.

What about the opposite end of the spectrum? Mike DeBourne, Karen Gordon, Alexa Blackwell, and Alex DeBourne. They were almost painful to look at, not because they were handsome or beautiful, but their sheer presence intimidated her. They were so overwhelming sometimes, she couldn't really blame that Nanu chick the week before when she'd just collapsed to her hands and knees and began grovelling. The urge was there, certainly.

No, they were great eye candy, and she admired them, lived in awe of them. But she was simply too intimidated to even fantasize about them.

In her mind's eye, another smiling face looked back at her, slowly beginning to bite its lip, the brown eyes getting glassy with desire, followed by a moan and panting. She could see those large breasts on that tiny, fit frame, jiggling so erotically, the warmth of her lover's body now coursing through her.

"Rub your pussy on mine, Tril," she pleads now, sweat shining on her forehead. "You'll see how good it feels now that we're both shaved..."

Trilby shuddered and seized up, arching her spine and throwing back her head, clenching her teeth as she groaned, straining through the climax. She pressed her pussy against the pillow with all her might before almost collapsing in on herself, folding forward and just trembling, letting the orgasm pass through her. She sighed as she kept fondling her breasts, with both hands now, enjoying the relaxed sensation the hormones sent through her.

She could see herself becoming a once-a-day girl at this rate, now that she had her own room. And if Bubbles didn't keep just walking in, which she would no doubt be prone to doing. She probably wouldn't blink if she caught Trilby masturbating, since Trilby had caught her doing it more than enough times. As far as Val was concerned, it was just natural and healthy, especially if a person wasn't having real sex at the same time.

Which Bubbles was. A lot of it. Easily more than every other staff member in the place combined.

Trilby was just happy for now with her pillow. She slowly slumped off to the side and down onto the carpet on her floor, almost purring as she reveled in the post-orgasm glow. Thankfully, she was in charge of laundry, so she could take care of any stains she left on her own linens and covers. Naked, she simply stretched, letting out a very contented sigh.

Just don't doze off...

Trilby absolutely dozed off and was well over twenty minutes late back to her shift. Nobody noticed.

***

Tatyana's office...

Jordan sat in the chair, sipping tea that Theresa had brought for him while he was going over files. He was thankful that Tatyana kept hard copies of everything, not just on a computer. Not because he thought they were unsafe if stored electronically, but because he preferred going over notes by hand. He was, understandably, rather old-school that way.

Tatyana had called the day before, of course, to let him know that she'd arrived safely at her father's place in Ottawa, and was settling in to endure several days' worth of rants. She'd left all her hard copy reports where he could access them, and asked him to update them with any of his own observations as necessary. He would most certainly oblige her.

Not surprisingly, though, he had nothing remotely negative to report so far, except for maybe how little there was for him to do. Everything Tatyana was personally responsible for, such as continuing to make preparations for the upcoming housewarmings and contacting various people, was all done well in advance, or laid out for him meticulously. The people he would need to call already knew it would be him calling and not her. She was remarkably efficient.

Around this place, one needed to be.

He thought back to his earliest days of employment here, under Karen's grandfather, James Blackwell, through the mid-fifties and into the seventies. He'd risen quickly through the ranks of the staff, showing remarkable ability and efficiency, something the Blackwells appreciated in their employees. He was promoted to seneschal within five years of beginning his service.

It also helped that Jordan was a veteran of Korea, and had served under a dashing young officer named Major Remus Blackwell, whom had taken a shine to his fellow Englishman. Such a pity Remus had been killed by a stray UN peacekeeper's helmet. Bizarre deaths seemed to be the preferred method of shuffling off this mortal coil for Blackwell men.

With a letter of recommendation written days before the helmet incident, Jordan found himself heading to the colonies, looking for a new life. He'd decided not to simply to go home to little Uppington in Rutland, for he wanted to see a world without the lens of war. Within days of arriving in Toronto, he had been hired on as principal chauffeur at Blackwell Manor, a job he excelled at since he'd been a regimental quartermaster in Korea, often leading dangerous logistical convoys.

James Blackwell had surrendered the reins as head of the family to Jonathon Blackwell, quite possibly the most intelligent and dynamic member of the family yet, and Jordan served as his seneschal. Through the seventies and well into the new millennium, he'd been the bastion of the family and its household. And as loyal and steadfast as he was to Jonathon and his remarkable wife, Miranda Gordon, he found himself incredibly devoted to their daughter, Ekaterina, who was the single-most capable and intelligent person he had ever met, exceeding both her parents in talent and ability.

Ekaterina, who called herself Karen, grew up and married a man who was her equal in every way, some genetic phenom from a tiny town in northern Ontario. His name was Michael DeBourne. Despite their completely different backgrounds and upbringings, he had never seen a more perfect match, nor a couple more desperately in love. They completed one another, and made each other grander than ever with their devotion.

In due course, Miranda had given birth to another daughter, Alexandra, every bit as beautiful and destined to be as remarkable as her older sister. But she'd been less than a year old when Miranda disappeared with her into the night, simply gone for the best part of twenty years, never to be found. Everyone had been utterly devasted.

Except Jonathon Blackwell, who was in a rage. While Michael DeBourne had subdued Jordan's master quickly, there took over a slow, long illness that no doctor ever definitively diagnosed or could give an answer for. The horrible suspicion was that something had happened between Jonathon and Miranda one night soon after their daughter had been born, causing her to flee. But everyone knew better than to ask. Even Jordan knew nothing.

Jonathon Blackwell was given to bouts of fury over the years, although he remained compos mentis, dedicating himself to growing his family's empire in a way that hadn't been seen in over two centuries. He'd proven an effective industrial empire builder, certainly.

Karen gave birth to Michael's son Alex, named for the sister Karen had lost so recently. Alex would prove more brilliant than his parents, even if he wasn't as physically imposing as his giant father. The family moved along, while Jonathon's health continued to slowly fail.

One of those bouts of fury led to Jonathon firing Jordan some years ago, and even Mike and Karen couldn't change his mind. Jordan had simply melted away, stunned and distraught by this turn of events, turning to distant family who happened to live in southern Ontario. But they'd taken advantage of him, draining his entire life's savings and putting him in a home, where he simply began to fade. He was in his mid-eighties at that point, and seemed to simply be waiting to die.

But then, just before this past Christmas, Karen and Michael had found him and brought him into their home. They had always treated him like family, and now that her father had passed and she was in charge, Karen intended to make sure that Jordan enjoyed the life she felt he'd always deserved.

And now Alexandra was back. She'd spent her whole life hearing about him from her mother, and she was every bit as reverent of him as her older sister was. Jordan felt whole again. He was back here at Blackwell Manor, not merely as an employee, but one of the family. He had his own little home that was completely his, and he wanted for nothing.

So taking over his old position for a week was the least he could do. It wasn't like he didn't remember the job.

The job!

Jordan snapped out of his reverie and chuckled to himself, realizing he'd been daydreaming for several minutes. Luckily, nobody had seemed to need him at that moment. He went back to perusing the employee files and Tatyana's progress reports on them. Everyone seemed to be working out splendidly. He was proud, because every single person hired had been on his recommendation, based on his instincts about them. He was more than thirty years older than the oldest of them, and they all treated him, as young Miss Wackenhut had put it, as the 'spirit animal' of the staff, and indeed the entire estate.

He smiled, because he didn't have the words to express what that meant to him. To have people respect him and be proud of him.

Dottie...

He cleared his throat and tackled the staff progress reports from the day before. There wasn't much to do, except encapsulate what was said in his own report for Tatyana, and then he would get around to making the calls. He'd leave as little as possible for Tatyana to do upon her return.

He still had it, he was pleased to find out.

***

The following day, in the grand foyer...

"Well, this is rather unexpected," Jordan said as he stood with the small group in the foyer. The center of attention was Mike, Karen, Alex, and Alexa, all of whom had some suitcases with them. The staff and guests were clustered around, waiting for instructions. "It seems a rather odd demand of the synod."

"Perhaps, but there is no sense in starting a fight with them, since we need their support," Karen pointed out. "Some of them think they're throwing their weight around, in an attempt to make themselves heard. We'll play their game and bend them to our will, of course."

"More's the pity, since this does interfere with our planned night out partying, Kat," Jenny sighed, wearing a plush bathrobe. It wasn't quite noon yet, so she had no intention of presenting as fully awake and ready to meet the world. "I guess I'll simply have to go myself."

"Nothing doing, you harlot," Karen said, giving her beloved best friend a firm look. "You are not getting Penrose wasted by yourself on Jordan's watch."

"But I want to go out and have a good time!" Jenny whined, almost bouncing like a petulant teenage girl.

"Okay," Mike said, taking over and making sure everyone knew this matter was being handled, now. He looked at the staff members, gathered around, as well as Freja and Jeanie. "You lot will go with her when she goes out, keep her from giving herself alcohol poisoning."

Jenny scowled and folded her arms, pouting prettily.

"I dunno, sir," Ari said, seeming apprehensive. "It's one thing to look after this place, it's another to keep up with the countess."

The staff members all nodded, even Val.

"I'll give you each two thousand dollars, cash," Mike offered.

"Okay!" they all said readily, Freja and Jeanie included.

"Excellent," Jordan announced, sounding pleased. "A night to myself."

"Excellent," Jenny echoed, looking excited. "We'll go to several clubs I've been meaning to try out. Drinks, dancing, live music, karaoke..."

"That'll be fun, just don't let Fre sing," Alexa advised, smirking at her bestie. "It sounds like a walrus giving birth to farm equipment."

Several people laughed while Freja gave her soulmate a sour look and stuck her tongue out at her.

"Jordan has your money upon completion of your mission," Mike said, giving Jordan a nod. "It can come out of the Penrose Contingency Fund."

"I have a contingency fund?" Jenny asked, seeming surprised, maybe bemused.

"There should have been one your entire life, I might point out," Karen sighed, allowing Mike to pick up her suitcases, along with his own. Alex followed suit with Alexa's. They were taking the big family van to a synod retreat outside the city. "We might be gone for a few nights, we will be playing it by ear. We're already covered at the university. Try to not reduce my family residence to a smoking crater before I return."

She looked right at Freja and Jeanie when she said it, and the two girls blushed and stared at the floor.

"But having the synod in your corner about the whole marriage thing will be a big boost, right, Mistress?" Val posited, sounding hopeful.

"Sometimes there's politics, darling, and other times it's just people taking an opposing view in order to make themselves feel like leaders or iconoclasts," Karen replied with a shrug. "But they will see reason before this little impromptu conclave is out, I have faith. Michael and I didn't agree to become elders of the most powerful congregation in the Dominion's Anglican church just for another set of titles on our business cards."

"Let's do this," Mike announced in his commanding voice. "Two-plus hours of driving ahead of us depending on the traffic."

The staff all nodded their heads, while Val and Trilby curtsied as the four imposing individuals headed toward their waiting vehicle.

"I was lookin' forward to partying with my Aunt Jen," Alexa grumbled as they reached the front door. She looked at Alex. "You'd better be worth all this."

"I dunno what you're complaining about," Alex chuckled, still carrying their bags. "If it weren't for you, I probably would've been inside her already."

They heard an exaggeratedly offended gasp from Alexa, followed by a thwap! sound, just as Dave closed the big double doors. The foyer was silent as everyone looked over at Jenny.

"Well, he's not wrong," the countess said with a small shrug. "If it weren't for Alli, he no doubt would have had his way with me by now, repeatedly. Do you blame me?"

"I've got work to do," Dave muttered, turning on his heel and leaving.

"Not without me, you do not," Tunde called, following his co-worker. The rest of the staff dispersed slowly, until only Jordan, Jenny, and Valentina were left. She waited quietly, to see if they had any needs or instructions for her. Freja and Jeanie slipped off to the arcade, since Freja had recently developed a passion for LaserDisc games from the eighties.

"So, Jordan-lovey," Jenny sighed, turning and smiling at him now. "Perhaps you have some tea you might want to fix for us? And maybe those delightful little cucumber sandwiches you would fix for Kat and I when we were little?"

"It would be my pleasure, my lady," Jordan said warmly, allowing her to take his arm and then leading her out and over to his cottage, nicknamed 'Winson Manor' by the staff. Val waited silently until they were gone before sighing and then heading off toward the Hall of Ancestors to do some dusting, maybe shimmy her tits at a few of them.

It might be all the action she got today.

***

Jordan's cottage...

"Mmm, just how I remember them," Jenny said, putting her little sandwich down daintily on her bone china plate as she sat with her host at his round dinner table, sunlight streaming in the window to touch them both. "Jordan, this cottage is simply magical. It reminds me of the some of the ancient ones in the villages around Heatherly. It is so serene and... so very you."

"Thank you, my dear," the older man said, smiling. He'd always adored Jenny, and he was so glad to have her back in his life. "A bit of a change from the scale and the pace of... oh, what did you and Karen call it... 'Blackshack', yes?"