Healing the Bloodlands

"You've been hit," Sarah heard a small voice say from behind her. It was whispered in a horrified awe. Sarah spun on her heels to once again take the uninjured, beautiful young woman into her arms. She hissed at the immense pain that flared in her shoulder and felt her legs go weak beneath her.

"Sit." Emma ordered. Sarah obeyed mainly from the inability to disobey. She folded her legs under her to soften the fall and sat staring up into watery, green eyes.

Emma knelt in front of Sarah, first removing the woman's good arm from her uniform coat and then sliding it off the wounded side. The undershirt proved more difficult as its proper removal required both of Sarah's arms to go over her head. After a second of contemplation, Emma grabbed the shirt collar in both of her hands and with a ferocity Sarah had never seen in this small woman, tore it down the center. She removed it the same way she had the coat.

This wasn't exactly how Sarah had envisioned Emma stripping her, but she still felt her breathing fail as her bare chest was exposed to the small woman's probing gaze. But Emma's eyes were not on Sarah's small sized chest, but the bleeding wound in her shoulder. She needed to stop the bleeding or Sarah was going to pass out from blood loss. Her face was already concerningly pale and adrenaline was the only thing keeping her eyes from floating back in her head.

Emma bundled the torn shirt into a wad, and pressed it firmly against the wound with the blood-soaked quarter against Sarah's flesh. She turned to the crowd that had gathered around them, "How much farther to her uncle?"

"An hour by trotting," one of Sarah's servants responded.

Emma looked from the crowd to the bleeding woman and back, searching for someone to tell her what to do. One head, poking out above the others as if called, caught Emma's attention. "Help me get her back on her horse," Emma ordered no one in particular, keeping her gaze fixed on the soft brown eyes of the mare as if she could somehow convey everything she needed in that single look.

It took three men to lift Sarah into the saddle and help Emma into place behind her.

Sarah could barely feel the wind against her face and in her hair, the rock of the saddle, tight with an extra person jammed in, or even the press of Emma's clothed body against her own bare back. Oh, how the tables have turned. The only feeling that held her to consciousness all while threatening to send her into oblivion was the burning of her shoulder where Emma was still gripping the soaking rag that had once been her shirt.

Sarah tried to hold onto enough consciousness to help Emma keep her in the saddle, but she could feel her head lolling and bouncing around on her shoulders. Each rock sent flares of pain out from her wound and black dots danced around from the edge of her vision in until the blackness had all but consumed her.

Scene 4

They galloped until the mare was too tired, then walked until she could muster at least a lope. Emma had heard that a horse could die from exhaustion. Though the horse's life for Sarah's was a trade Emma was more than prepared to make, she was quickly learning that Sarah valued lives very differently from most masters. She would keep the horse alive for Sarah if both lives could be spared.

Emma explained very little to the grey-haired man that came to the door after an even shorter explanation to the servant who answered the door. It was an hour or so before dawn and the manor had been silent when the trio had arrived: Emma, Sarah, and the horse Emma had taken to calling Angel. A doctor had been fetched and Sarah was resting comfortably, the bullet removed from her shoulder and the wound stitched shut, when the rest of the servants arrived with the dawn. They were welcomed in by Arthur Weatherly, who proved to be just as crazy as his niece, if not more.

Though they'd ridden through the night, Sarah was the only one in the manor to sleep that day. The rest of the manor was abuzz with frantic activity. Defenses were prepped and manned, an impromptu council was created, and eventually beds were put together for the almost one hundred Bloodlands refugees.

The initial council contained Arthur, the Belmont butcher and stable master, two of the more boisterous women from other manors, and of course, Emma. Overnight, she had gone from disregarded to respected, ignored to venerated. Though the council contained six members, it was Arthur and Emma who made the real decisions. They would stay on the defensive, protect themselves and stay out of the battle. Emma had been resolute on their withdrawal, though no one seemed to truly want to go back into that nightmare. Arthur had pointed out with dry humorlessness that once the servants were all gone, the masters were likely to wipe each other out trying to save their riches and covet each other's lands.

When she awoke, feeling about as good as the people around her who had been up for thirty-six hours straight, Sarah joined the council. She was furious to discover that they had done nothing to intervene in the carnage that was likely taking place. The day laborers would arrive tomorrow and were likely to be raised up, or rather cut down, as human sacrifices if Ranald's call to act quickly hadn't fully turned the families against each other past the point of needing more death. When her uncle asked what she expected them to do about it, Sarah's composure broke, though there hadn't been much to start with. "This isn't the twelve hundreds anymore! Call the bloody constable. Have them arrested before they're all dead."

"You killed them too," Arthur objected, watching his niece wince at the truth.

"That was self-defense. And, Hell, I'll go to prison if it means the killing stops." Sarah said defiantly.

And so, the constable was called, statements were taken and a team of officers set off into the early evening for the Bloodlands to see what was left.

Feeling moderately safer, the inhabitants of the second Weatherly manor dispersed to the beds that had been set up, stumbling over their own feet in exhaustion. Sarah found Emma in the middle of the trudge, directing the masses who seemed to be unable to avoid walls without her direction. Sarah didn't interrupt, only wrapped her good arm around the small woman's waist and held her close as she continued to direct. Her right arm hung in a sling between their bodies.

When the last barely conscious body had disappeared, Emma turned in Sarah's hold and happily accepted the kiss that was offered. "You must be exhausted," Sarah said, pulling back just enough to speak.

"I have way too much of this pumping through my body right now." Emma replied, sweeping her arms around the room to indicate the people, the manor, the Bloodlands beyond, and the whole world most likely. "And way too much of this," she added with a smile, pointing her finger back and forth between herself and Sarah. Seeing Sarah covered in her own blood had been the worst moment of Emma's life. She had never felt like a leader or thought she could be one, even when she was ordering the servants from the Belmont kitchen and forging the path to the river, until that moment. At that moment, she could have done anything just to keep Sarah in her life. Now she finally had the tall woman in her arms again and she didn't want to let go.

"You should try to sleep," Sarah said, brushing her fingers through Emma's tangled hair. "I understand they got a bed for everyone, but you are more than welcome to stay with me." The offer came with a small smile that managed to be both shy and seductive.

"You want to sleep with me?" Emma asked, understanding both connotations of the word. She knew she wanted it, her body was making that abundantly clear, though she wasn't sure she knew exactly what that entailed without the complementary set of body parts she was used to. Regardless, as with the dancing and the kissing, she was ready to learn and knew Sarah would be an excellent teacher.

Scene 5

"Yes," Sarah breathed. She'd meant to say, 'It's an invitation, but the choice is yours,' but complex sentences were beyond her at the moment.

Emma leaned in for another kiss, whispering just before their lips met, "In that case, I'd like to try to sleep."

Were she in top fighting form, Sarah would have lifted Emma into her arms and carried her to the bedroom. As it was, she took Emma's hand in her left one and jogged down the long hallway. She didn't want to drag Emma along and was happy to feel the woman running of her own volition to keep up and even outpace her.

Sarah used Emma's body to close the bedroom door behind them. Her hold was firm but gentle as she pressed the small woman against the wood with her own body, kissing her hungrily. Her left hand roamed Emma's body, eliciting soft moans as she squeezed first the woman's beautiful ass and then her perfect breasts. Each filled Sarah's hand perfectly and she bemoaned not being able to hold both at the same time. The woman wasn't wearing a bra (the dress she'd worn at the party hadn't needed or allowed for one) and Sarah could feel Emma's hard nipples through the thin cotton of her borrowed dress. Sarah shifted, placing her thigh between Emma's and began to rub against Emma's groin, slowly hiking the skirt of the servant's dress with each hump.

Sarah's tongue flicked out, wetting her lips and brushing against Emma's. Emma immediately opened her mouth to the welcome invasion and gave a throaty purr as Sarah's tongue tangled with her own. Sarah's tongue retreated, inviting Emma's to follow. She smiled further into the kiss as Emma did, deepening the kiss with each stroke of her tongue.

Emma was turning to jelly against Sarah's body and as much fun as this was, Sarah wanted more of the continuous groans escaping Emma's mouth into hers. Putting the strain on her left shoulder to favor the right, Sarah pivoted and half tossed, half dragged her new lover the several paces to the large bed.

A tiny gasp filled the room as Sarah worked her hand up Emma's thighs, bringing the hem of her dress with it. Emma lifted her hips automatically as Sarah reached them, inadvertently allowing Sarah to work the dress further up her body. Sarah leaned down to kiss the exposed flesh of Emma's stomach, raising goosebumps across the sensitive skin.

Emma's shoulders came off the bed next, inviting Sarah to finish removing the dress and turn her attention to the flesh they had both been thinking about since it had been pressed against a thick wool suit what felt like years ago. Sarah didn't have to be asked. She pulled the dress off and immediately brought her lips to the straining nipples that now stood at attention on Emma's chest.

The small body under Sarah was on fire. Emma was sweating, panting, and moaning, and Sarah hadn't even gotten to the best part. None of the other women Sarah had been with had reacted this strongly to her touch and she was excited to see just how far she could take this beauty.

Sarah wrapped her left arm under and around Emma's heaving rib cage as her mouth went from one breast to the other, sucking, licking, and gently biting. All the while, she humped her hip against Emma's quickly moistening bloomers. When she'd delayed as long as she could bear and Emma had been worked into a clear frenzy, she used her grip on the small woman to lift her higher on the bed and focus on her next sensitive target.

Sarah was still fully clothed but that was how she always did it. The women she pleasured had no interest in seeing her body and some had even threatened to leave if she revealed any more of it than normal.

Normally, Sarah would have supported her weight on her left arm and used her right to remove the last remaining barrier between herself and Emma. As it was, she pulled Emma's bloomers and panties down and off with her left hand and teeth, feeling no less sexy for her injury. She spread Emma's folds slowly, reveling in just how wet Emma was. Emma was gasping and bucking against Sarah's light ministrations, desperate for more and yet loving every moment of what she was already getting. Sarah wanted to drag the experience out longer, but Emma clearly had different ideas.

She's not like the others, Sarah reminded herself. She'll be here in the morning. She sent up yet another prayer that she was right. She didn't think she'd ever prayed so many times in such a short time before. If she's here in the morning I promise to pray every day, she thought, though she still hadn't decided who exactly the target of her promise was.

Sarah slipped a finger inside Emma's waiting, dripping pussy and grinned at the loud moan that escaped the woman's lips as her hips rose off the bed to meet her invader. Sarah and Emma quickly found a rhythm, the walls of Emma's pussy pulling Sarah's finger deeper as she thrust upwards to get more of it. Sarah slipped a second finger in and curled them, finding Emma's g-spot easily. She could feel Emma riding the knife's edge and knew the woman was about to cum. She wanted to make the last moment as intensely pleasurable as possible. It was by far the best part on her end as well. The moment she put every ounce of effort into her partner's climax and was rewarded by the obvious effect of her work.

As Emma's orgasm crested, Sarah brought her lips down to Emma's clit, trying not to rest too much of her weight on the woman's legs. She sucked the hard nub into her mouth and began to lap at it as quickly as she could while corkscrewing her fingers inside the thrashing, bucking woman. Her right hand could do this faster and harder, but her left was proving up to the task.

"Sarah!" It came out as a scream and was followed by moan after moan of her name as Emma rode Sarah's face and her orgasm. Sarah loved it when they said her name. It happened so rarely. And, the way Emma said it and kept saying it was more like a mantra than an accidental recognition. All the women had wanted what Sarah did to them, but Emma actually wanted Sarah to be the one doing it.

Sarah continued to lap at Emma's clit, though she stilled her fingers. She wasn't sure she'd be able to move them anyway with the death grip Emma's body had on them. When Emma's moans turned to heavy breathing, Sarah pulled back, smiling down at the grinning woman who looked in utter bliss. She withdrew her fingers slowly, earning a whimper and momentary pout from Emma. She knew she shouldn't but Sarah couldn't hold back. She dipped her head to kiss that adorable face.

Arms immediately wrapped around Sarah's head pulling her more deeply into the kiss. She wants this, Sarah half reminded herself, half realized in joyous shock. But Emma had far more she wanted. She pushed up to a seated position, looking at the kneeling woman in front of her, with dilated pupils and bright red cheeks. With as much care as her rush would allow, Emma tore the front of Sarah's shirt open, unbuttoning what released easily and popping the stitching on the buttons that didn't.

For a moment, all Sarah could do was stare down at what Emma was doing in confusion and excitement. Emma pushed Sarah's left arm out of her way, then brushed the shirt aside to wrap her lips around Sarah's small, pert breast. "Oh God," Sarah moaned as Emma rolled her tongue over the hard nipple over and over. Her other breast ached from want, but she couldn't get to it. Her frustrated groan communicated her need enough. Emma licked her finger tips then slipped her left hand under the right side of Sarah's shirt to reach and tease the nipple on that side without bumping or moving Sarah's arm too much. Sarah arched into the touch, straining the damaged muscles of her shoulder, but she didn't care. Her whole body seemed to ache with pain and pleasure and the drive for more.

The hint of pain in Sarah's groans was not lost on Emma. She twisted, moving her mouth temporarily back to Sarah's lips as she forced the woman onto her back on the bed. Once Sarah was prone, Emma moved back to her chest. Sarah had always loved other women's breast but never found her own very exciting. She had always focused her personal attention between her legs. But, what Emma was doing was all kinds of exciting.

Without removing her lips from Sarah's skin, Emma reached down utilizing the fact she had two capable hands to unbutton Sarah's trousers and push them down strong, toned thighs along with her soaking panties. Sarah hadn't considered herself to be a virgin for the last ten years. She'd had sex with over two dozen women in that time, most of them multiple times. But as Emma began to slowly run her fingers up and down the slick lips of Sarah's pussy, the reality of her virginity struck her. She'd had sex with many women but they'd never actually had sex with her.

She was the Bloodlands' resident lesbian. Most people blamed her lack of a mother or mother figure growing up for her sexual deviance. When she was young, her peers had tried to pressure and then to beat her sexuality out of her. The death of her father when she was sixteen had left her the head of the Weatherly household and all of a sudden she was the sole heir of the Bloodlands' second largest fortune after Ranald Belmont. Her peers, or more correctly the parents of her peers, realized that if she decided the fertility of her land wasn't worth the abuse, she would take her fortune with her and likely go live with her uncle. That was unacceptable. What was worse, she clearly had no interest in marrying any of the master's sons to integrate her fortune with another family. Their best chance was to make her want to stay there and single until she passed away and left her land and fortune unclaimed.

Being the local pariah had its benefits, but the best part was the fascination that came with being one of a kind. While none of them would ever admit it to their fathers or husbands, plenty of the local women wanted to know what Sarah did behind closed doors. Her first lover had been Rachel Portinghouse when she was eighteen. Sarah was to keep her clothing on, Rachel was very clear about that. She could do "whatever it is you lesbians do" with Rachel's body, but should expect none in return. Rachel wasn't a lesbian after all. She'd threatened Sarah with death if she told anyone, but apparently the nondisclosure clause was one-sided because Sarah got three more offers that year and had buried her face between the legs of a young woman from just about every major family in the Bloodlands by the time she was twenty-three.

It wasn't a bad gig in Sarah's opinion. She liked women's bodies even if she didn't like the women in them. She also liked the way she made them moan and scream. She knew she was good, not just from the sounds they made, but the fact that she rarely went a month without someone showing up at her door. Every time was the same. She'd bring them to a raging orgasm, they'd get dressed and leave, and then she would get herself off remembering the feel of their skin, the movements of their bodies, the sound of their cries. As she reached the crest of her orgasm, she'd flick out her tongue, tasting them on her lips and pump her fingers inside herself hard and deep, remembering the sound of her name on their lips or inventing it more often than not.

Her own fingers were nothing like the ones currently spreading her open. Emma's were small and dexterous and though she'd never been with another woman, she seemed to know exactly how to touch Sarah. Emma slid first one and then two fingers inside Sarah, moaning around Sarah's left breast in response to Sarah's wetness and guttural groan of pleasure.

"P...please," Sarah begged, not entirely sure what she was begging for except that Emma not stop.

Emma took the plea as the desire for her tongue to move lower. Sarah gave a small cry as Emma released her nipple with a soft smack of her lips. But she didn't miss Emma's mouth long. "Oh, bloody Hell," Sarah moaned as Emma flicked her tongue across her inflamed clit. If this was what she had given all those women all those years, part of her wanted to go back and make them pay her back. Her self-made orgasms had been good and, without comparison, she'd never realized just how much they paled in comparison. Then again, none of those women could have given Sarah what Emma was giving her. The passion and drive was clear in every lap of Emma's tongue, every pump of her fingers.