Arabella Saves the World Ch. 01

It was the boiling summer of 1928. The hottest day of the year so far. The grass was turning brown due to the lack of rain, and the flowers were struggling to stay alive, despite constant watering.

Lady Arabella Cornwell was in her bedroom. The windows were open, and she lay on her bed naked. All day she had worn her thin cotton dress, but had eventually retreated upstairs and stripped off.

She wriggled, happy in her nudity, with the breeze blowing across her breasts. A petite five foot five. Pert bosoms, with prominent nipples. A firm backside. Arabella was not quite voluptuous, but had wonderful curves that caught the eye of many suitors. White skin like peaches and cream. Her dark tresses were bobbed, as was the style of the day.

She had always loved exposing herself at any opportunity since reaching puberty, while at Cheltenham Ladies' College. Walking through the dorm naked after showering, skinny dipping during the warmer weather - any excuse at all. During an art lesson, her teacher asked for a volunteer to pose nude for the other girls to sketch. Arabella immediately put her hand up. She dropped her skirt and knickers and sat proudly in her birthday suit for the other girls to draw. Some of them giggled as her nipples raised, but this attention only excited the young aristocrat further.

She was due to visit her friend N'Dula later that day. Arabella had not spoken to her since school, but was excited about seeing the beautiful girl from Natawe again.

******

Young Arabella Clanfield (her surname before she later married) noticed the new girl at school. She was African, and seemed to be from a wealthy family. This must have been the case, as the school fees at Cheltenham Ladies' College were quite astonishing.

N'Dula was athletic, beautiful and very strong-willed. Rumours spread during the year that she had once been expelled from another school, but she had always seemed friendly and gracious. She never lacked confidence.

Arabella was enthralled during sports lessons by the slim black girl, who exuded health and vitality. She had elegant cheekbones, expressive eyes and legs like an Amazon.

Miss Clanfield had a crush.

******

It was her last year at school, and she was 18. Her feelings towards N'Dula had become stronger, and she had fantasised about being taken by the strong-willed African girl for far too long.

Arabella stepped towards the showers after a gym class. She had a towel wrapped around herself and was buzzing from all the exercise. The young Miss Clanfield had stayed behind to help the teacher put the gym equipment away, so all of the other girls had now dressed and gone.

Suddenly, she felt the towel snatched abruptly from her body. She tried to cover herself with her hands, and looked around to see the naked N'Dula.

The black girl stepped close and, holding Arabella's hair, kissed her full on the lips. The white girl lost her inhibitions as soon as she felt N'Dula's tongue in her mouth.

"Let's get you clean," said N'Dula, pulling Arabella forcefully by her hair.

Miss Clanfield was pushed up against the wall under the showers. N'Dula grabbed the soap and washed her like an animal, harshly slapping her bare bottom every now and again.

"I've been aware of you lusting after me," she said, making Arabella blush. "I can also see in your eyes how you'd like me to pluck you."

The nude white girl found herself enjoying being forcefully handled. She was excited by having her breasts and her cunny scrubbed. Before long, they were both embracing each other, the more experienced N'Dula guiding Arabella's hand. They fingered each other until they both came.

Then the beautiful African abruptly slapped Arabella's bottom, turned around and left.

"I enjoyed you very much," said the black girl, drying herself. "Who knows, I may decide to take you again."

She dressed and left Arabella still standing in the shower, naked, reliving her deflowering in her mind.

******

The athletic black girl never chose to pluck Miss Clanfield again during the remainder of their time at Cheltenham Ladies'.

At the end of the year, they both left the school. The relationship had centred on sexual tension, and Arabella's crush had never abated.

It was just a quick goodbye.

"Farewell, my little slave," said N'Dula, and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Perhaps I will own you one day and take you back to my country."

******

Back to the present, and Arabella found her nipples were rising up straight from just thinking about that time in the showers. She put her fingers between her legs and started to caress herself. She closed her eyes and again remembered the beautiful African roughly washing her and then rutting with her. She imagined being held by the hair and roughly used. She came, moaning softly as she reached her destination.

"Ma'am!"

Arabella opened her eyes and smiled. She had been caught masturbating by her Maid, Shirley.

The Maid stared at the Lady of the house.

Although attractive, Shirley had a stern manner, as though she saw Arabella as a naughty schoolgirl. She held a glass of lemonade, which had been requested before Lady Cornwell went up to her bedroom.

Arabella smiled and sat up, fully aware she had been caught pleasuring herself while in the bare.

"You really should knock before coming in," giggled Arabella.

"I did, Ma'am," replied Shirley. "Quite loudly. You may have been otherwise occupied."

There always seemed to be some sexual tension between the two women. Shirley just didn't seem to know her place. Did she think she was superior to the Lady of the house?

She seemed to be very pretty, but kept her hair pulled back tight and exuded a schoolteacher like manner. If she ever got a job teaching, thought Arabella, she looked like she would be very strict. For some reason, this made Lady Cornwell curious about what she would be like when rutting. Would she dominate? Would she pull her lover over her knee and spank them?

"Have my clothes laid out," said Lady Cornwell, jumping up and walking to her en suite, showing off every inch of her person as she moved. "I'm going to take a bath."

"Very well, Ma'am," replied Shirley.

******

The Daimler drove out of the long drive and onto the main road. James, the driver, turned left towards London.

Lady Arabella was dressed elegantly for her meeting with N'Dula. Stylish shoes, paired together with her favourite dress. She was excited about seeing the beautiful African girl again. Did Arabella still have that crush? She would soon find out.

In the seven years since leaving Cheltenham Ladies' College, the young aristocrat had experienced a degree of disappointment. She had hoped for romance, sex and excitement. Instead, she found herself being married off by her parents to Lord Hugo Cornwell, the biggest prude in the British Empire.

Years of church attendance, bible readings and efforts to instil godliness into the locals left her cold. He would only fuck her once each month, with the sole aim of conceiving a child. No warmth, and no desire to experiment.

She was always relieved when Hugo's lovemaking failed to make her pregnant. What sort of childhood would the poor mite have endured?

One fateful day, Hugo had been on his way to the Vicarage for a meeting to decide what to do about the local children's playground, which was owned by the church. All weekend he had been telling Arabella about his plan to have the swings chained up and the gates locked on Sundays so that children would respect the Sabbath and not play.

Good grief. What would the world come to if we allowed children to be children?

In the end, the Good Lord revealed how much he appreciated Hugo's plans for the playground. Part of the Vicarage roof came loose as Hugo was on his way to the meeting, slid off the guttering, and landed with full force on his head.

End of Lord Cornwell.

At the time, Arabella was disoriented by the loss of her husband, as so much of her life had been controlled by him. However, as it came closer to the reading of the will, she realised she would have the freedom to enjoy herself, as well as the ability to do something practical for the locals in the neighbouring villages, which wouldn't involve endless re-reading of scripture. Perhaps a small school or hospital?

The reading of the Will was painful. Hugo still wanted to inflict his prudery on her from the grave. She was given an allowance for a year, in which she had to demonstrate herself to be godly, pure and pious. If she lived up to these expectations, then all of his family fortune would go to her.

If she failed to run the bible groups and attend church meetings, then the whole lot would go to the Lord Cornwell Missionary Society, which specialised in handing out bibles to starving people around the world. Hugo clearly had no awareness of the low calorific value of scripture.

The main task left to her was to make sure that the swings were chained up on Sundays. She resented this hugely, and decided that as soon as she had her inheritance she would overturn this nonsense.

In the meantime, she had to live like a saint for a year. But as long as she was careful, she could sneak off to London on a pretence and have some fun.

******

James dropped her off at Bishopsgate. He would nip off somewhere to enjoy a pint or ten in one of the East End pubs, and then come back at the end of the day to drive her home. She walked to the address that N'Dula had given her

As far as everybody else was concerned, Arabella was in London to fundraise for Hugo's "Build a Statue of John the Baptist in All of England's Schools" fund. How very vital to every child's upbringing, she thought. Or perhaps not.

In reality, she was meeting N'Dula in a cafe in Leadenhall Market, where they could have a splendid lunch and perhaps a few drinks.

******

"How wonderful to see you, Arabella!" exclaimed N'Dula as Lady Cornwell entered the cafe. She hugged Arabella tightly, and then led her by the hand to the table that she had commandeered.

"You look fabulous, N'Dula!" said Arabella. This was true. Slightly more curvaceous than at school, but this gave a sensual glow to the beautiful African woman. "I'm so glad to see you again!"

They chatted for ages before ordering, waving the waiter away several times. N'Dula didn't let go of Arabella's hand the whole time, and kept eye contact. There was clearly still a spark there.

"Look at you," said N'Dula. "You have truly blossomed. Even more beautiful than you were at school."

Arabella blushed, and N'Dula put her hand to the white girl's cheek. Definitely a spark.

"Don't be shy, my sweet," said the black woman, smiling.

******

They enjoyed a wonderful two hours. Chatting, laughing and lots of physical contact by N'Dula. It was almost as though they were lovers meeting for a clandestine lunch. Much more than Arabella expected, and she was most happy with this.

******

"I'm afraid I have another appointment," said N'Dula, still grasping Arabella's hand. "I go to a treatment centre in London for my health."

"Gosh, nothing serious, I hope?" asked Lady Cornwell, slightly saddened.

"Oh no, more for my mental health and spirituality," replied the African goddess. "There is a place nearby that provides an excellent massage. After every visit, I feel years younger."

"It sounds divine," said Arabella, staring her friend in the eye.

"Have you ever had a massage? I'm sure they could fit you in. It would be my treat."

Arabella didn't have to think twice.

"I'd love to. Thank you, N'Dula!"

******

They walked up Bishopsgate, still holding hands, to a church called St Botolph's. After all the years of Hugo's bible bashing she almost cringed walking past a house of god. They went down a side passage to a Victorian Bath House. Quite small, and beautifully tiled.

As they walked inside, the girl on reception gave them some towels.

"Take the room on the right," said the girl, and N'Dula led her through.

In the booth were two massage tables made of stone, perhaps marble.

"Let's get ready," said N'Dula, pulling off her dress and removing her knickers, standing naked within twenty seconds of entering the room. "Come on Arabella, don't be a fuddy-duddy!"

The young aristocrat blushed for a second, and then quickly removed her clothing.

N'Dula climbed onto one of the massage tables.

"Don't we cover ourselves with the towels?" asked Arabella.

"Only if you're a prude," winked the African woman.

******

They were both laid out on the massage tables, naked as the day they were born, as the black girls arrived to massage them.

The two African masseuses wore collars. They held jugs of oil for applying to the two women while they rubbed and pressed on their joints.

Arabella was unsure for a moment, but very quickly realised the possibility of release from her mundane life.

The girl attending to Arabella slapped her bottom loudly, making the white girl look up. She then felt oil being poured over her body, and then felt the hands begin to massage. This was honestly the most sensual moment of her life so far, and she was glad she was face down so nobody could see her nipples perking up.

"Just relax and enjoy," said N'Dula. "Let yourself go. You'll feel very relaxed and happy by the time you leave."

The girl kneaded her back firmly, relieving tension as she pressed into the muscles. The movements were repetitive, relaxing Arabella and making her feel dizzy. Then her arms. Then the small of her back. Her legs were kneaded and rubbed for ages, and felt wonderful after. Finally, the girl began to rub from her shoulders, down her, back, across her bottom, and down to her ankles. Over and over again.

Naked. Being fondled and rubbed. Every part of her. Suddenly the black girl pulled a string at the back of her uniform. It dropped to the floor and she stood there naked.

She poured the oil across her breasts, and Arabella could see it dribble down over her nipples and between her magnificent bosoms, then down her stomach to her smoothly shaven sex.

She climbed on top of the naked aristocrat and used her breasts to continue the massage. Arabella was fit to burst.

The slave girl sat across Lady Cornwell, facing towards Arabella's feet, and continued to use her body, moving athletically back and forth.

Suddenly the girl stopped for a few seconds.

SLAP! Arabella felt the slave girl's palm hit her left buttock forcefully. Arabella looked over at N'Dula, startled.

SLAP! Again on the right buttock.

"I know you enjoy that," said N'Dula. "If you want her to stop, you only have to say."

Arabella said nothing, and a smile appeared on her face.

The girl slapped Arabella's bottom again, and started to focus more on this area. Her hands went into the crease every few seconds, and then started to move between her legs.

Arabella lost her inhibitions and raised her hips a little to give the girl more access. This signalled the girl to delve deeper with her fingers, occasionally touching Arabella's sex. Lady Cornwell raised her hips a little further, and the black girl climbed off.

The naked black masseuse lifted Arabella's hips so she was on all fours and continued to play with her cunny. Lady Cornwell was in a daze, breathing heavily.

She could feel the masseuse's fingers, sliding around her nubbin, then the fingers of the other hand sliding in and out of her.

Every now and again, the masseuse would pull her fingers away. Then the nude aristocrat would feel her hair being grabbed tightly, and her bare bottom would be slapped repeatedly. Then the black girl would go back to fiddling with Arabella's cunny.

Her breathing became more frantic, and her hips began to writhe as the African fiddled and spanked her, until Arabella moaned and bucked her hips, then she stopped still, trying to catch her breath.

"I told you that you'd feel better," said N'Dula. "These girls are very good at what they do."

The masseuse pulled on her clothing. N'Dula's massage was finished, and she sat up, showing her magnificent breasts. Arabella was still on all fours, naked and exhausted.

******

N'Dula had moved over to Arabella's massage table. N'Dula lay on her stomach, while Arabella sat up stroking her friend's magnificent bottom.

"I love being spanked and fucked," said Arabella, smiling.

"Do as you're told, my little slave girl," replied N'Dula. "I'll beat your backside black and blue if you fail to please your Mistress."

Arabella giggled. With just a few words, her friend had made her feel quite rampant again.

N'Dula sat up and pushed the naked white girl onto her back, pinning both of her wrists down with one hand. She put her other hand to Arabella's sex and began to play. The aristocrat opened her legs wide and looked the dominant black woman in the eye.

"I've never experienced anything like that," said the nude aristocrat. "Where did you find the two girls?"

"They're slaves," replied N'Dula. "I bought them in an auction in Natawe. They had been trained in this type of treatment by their previous owners, and I couldn't turn down an opportunity like that."

"What do you mean?" asked Arabella, feeling a little confused. "You actually own human beings?"

"Oh yes," replied the beautiful black woman. "We never went through this curious abolition nonsense that you British obsess over."

Lady Cornwell looked dumbfounded.

"It's not at all bad," continued N'Dula. "This concoction I'm about to apply helps each of them enjoy a very energetic, exciting life."

N'Dula stopped fingering Arabella and reached over to pick up a jug of thick, syrupy oil. She continued to pin down the white girl's wrists while she poured the oil across Lady Cornwell's pussy.

Arabella was confused for a few seconds, and then she felt her sex begin to tingle. A few more seconds, and she was completely overtaken by a volcano of lust erupting around her loins. She was finding it hard to speak. What had N'Dula smeared around her cunny?

"W....what... are you....doing?" said the naked white girl.

N'Dula started to play with Lady Cornwell's cunt again. Massaging her clitoris. Pushing fingers in and out. The oil that N'Dula applied had stripped Arabella of all decorum and restraint. All that she wanted to do was rut.

"Nothing to worry about, my lustful little submissive," replied the African woman. "Slave girls in Natawe are basted with this every few days."

It only took a couple of minutes before Arabella's hips were bucking while she shrieked loudly with pleasure.

"Again....please...." begged the bare, submissive white girl, still pinned to the massage table by N'Dula.

******

Lady Cornwell was unable to gain proper control of her faculties. She had been played like a musical instrument three times now, each time ending in the most stirring crescendo. She lay back on the massage table, quivering. This was the most delightful experience, and was far more than she had hoped to get from her trip to the city.

The aphrodisiac that her African friend had applied was driving her mad. It didn't seem to matter what she did, she just couldn't pause her burning desire to be used.

"The effect of the oil will begin to lessen in a few weeks," said N'Dula, who was now standing up, fully dressed. "You'll have to make a significant effort if you want to maintain any sense of decorum."

"Do you have to go?" asked the nude white girl, sounding quite disappointed.

"Unfortunately I have a business meeting to attend," said N'Dula, leaning over and kissing her friend on the cheek. "But I can send one of my slave girls to play with you for a little longer."

"Yes, please," said Arabella, giggling.

N'Dula said goodbye and left Lady Cornwell laid on her back, with her hips quivering.

******

Arabella was quite overcome. She lay naked, fantasising about the life of a slave girl. Imagine being commanded to drop one's knickers and serve a Lord or Lady, completely nude and exposed. Just the thought of being spanked for disobedience made her nipples stiff.