Kissing Cousins Ch. 13: Conclusion

"I am afraid that the entire staff will have to be sacked, Mr. Albemarle, for they have a certain familiarity with me that I would wish to forget." He cleared his throat.

"Well, this is quite unusual, but not unheard of m'Lady. I will dispatch the order immediately. When should you like to inspect the place?" I smiled, standing, which of course caused him to stand as well.

"I should like you, Mr. Albemarle, to arrange for the hiring of fresh staff. They should be from London, preferably. When the house is ready, and fully staffed, you will contact me again." He bowed deeply, and we took our leave.

The next few weeks were spent in giddy anticipation of my inheritance. How strange that this should occur. It was with some trepidation that Sarah returned to Markworth, but I was eager to call its familiar halls, my own, and truly my own. The journey south was in absolute luxury, a barouche box being sent for us at Gansebraigh, which was now completed. Another entire carriage was following, just for our cases. How extraordinary was our good fortune.

Our arrival at Markworth Hall was met with some fanfare, the entire staff being turned out to greet us. It was a relief to see not one familiar face among them, save for one. I had instructed Albemarle to send for Vasily, and was pleasantly surprised that he had not been sent back to Russia as Kark had imparted, but gainfully employed in London.

Walking upright through this house was something that I had forgotten to do, and some deep held part of me thought that it was unfitting for me to do so. A few times, I had to stop myself from falling to all fours, especially above stairs and in the gardens.

"How strange fate is, Sarah." I whispered, as we settled into our bed for our first night in this vast house.

"It is strange indeed, m'Lady." She said in jest.

"Stop that this instant, cousin." Reaching down I took one of her nipples between my teeth and bit, eliciting the desired response from her. Her hair was now long enough that it resembled a longish boy's coif, and was acceptable to be seen without the covering of a wig. My hair had never grown back, and although this delighted Sarah, it was a sadness for me. I would miss my flowing mane, but nothing was to be done about it, so I chose to ignore my misfortune and enjoy it for all that it was, and all the pleasure it gave my cousin.

I descended to that spot that I so loved between my cousin's legs, and partook of her wares, my teeth and tongue laving her to heights of pleasure that were only accentuated by our lack of worry. She in turn worshipped me, loving my hairless condition, and my own pleasure was not second to hers. We were at last equals, and there was nothing between us that we did not share as such.

There were places in the old house that were still forbidding to us, the dark dungeons below, Madam Eloise's Bedroom, which was boarded up entirely, and of course, the barns. It took some doing, but I did manage to persuade Sarah to accompany me back to that place, if for no other reason than to confront her demons.

As we approached the pig pens, she tentatively leaned over the rails, greeting her old companions. "Well, Barnard, Theodore, how do you know me?" They seemed to gravitate to her, and I tried not to think of whatever had taken place. "Thank you, my friends, for leaving me unmolested for all those weeks." It had been my assumption that quite the opposite had occurred, and I was pleasantly relieved. To this day, she has never spoken of that time.

As we left she turned, and leaning down, ruffed the curls on Barnard's head. "Well done boys." She smiled, giving me a wink of approval.

"Are you ready?" I leaned down, releasing the clasps on my boots, allowing them to be removed. Next was my gown and petticoats, and finally my wig, all placed with care on the table that was so placed just for that very purpose. I stood naked, the cool air whispering over my flesh as I absorbed its caress. The grass felt wonderfully soft and cool against my knees and hands as I frolicked about, my skin gradually soiled with the soft mud that resulted from my play.

I kneeled dutifully on the mat, which had been placed on the path. The water was cool but not cold as it was brushed gently over my skin. Care was taken against my quim and my breasts as the mud was slowly and sensually washed away. Finally clean, I felt the rough hand rub over my glassy head, lovingly.

"Good girl, Bessie." My eyes raised to his face as he admired me in all my most abject humility.

"Thank you, Vasily."