Summer Lawns Ch. 12 - Gremalgin

This was it!

He knew what she was feeling and worked faster, so Sarah could make the most of his efforts. Now their bodies were slapping against the sides of the bath, the water splashing into the carpets on all sides. Waves of bubbles flowed across their shinning skin, as Sarah felt the burning flowing up through her body. From the depths of her spine, it came until she thought it would explode in the bath with them. When the final moment came, Sarah gripped the man's shoulders hard and felt the jolt of power shoot through her.

She lay back in the bath and almost fainted when the sensation finally fell away.

"My God I can see what she was talking about now." Sarah looked at the man and smiled.

When the young Cavalry Officer dressed to go home she looked at him properly for the first time.

"You don't know what a debt of gratitude I owe you," said Sarah lying naked on the bed before him.

"Madame, I've been complimented in the past, but that ranks as my highest honour." He smiled and put on his uniform. Looking at himself in the mirror before walking out into the world.

"Seriously, this is a great moment. Finally, I am armed with true power. Women are naturally Magical, I've never doubted that, but I always lacked the power to tap that Magic. Thanks to you sir, I've been set free to do my own will. I can escape this prison and begin my plan."

"Miss Sarah, you talk with such old words for one so young." The man opened the door and was about to go.

"Yes, but I've seen many ages."

When she came down for breakfast that morning, there was already an air of gloom hanging over the house. Gremalgin sat, as usual, at the head of the table eating more than her fair share.

"Do I see a little girl with a twinkle in her eye, or not?" She looked at Sarah taking her seat at the table and smiled her wickedest smile.

"You can rejoice in the knowledge that I am as bad as you." Sarah allowed herself a smile around the table.

"Wicked! I knew it, that Cavalry Officer was the one to bring it out of you Babe." Gremalgin was almost hysterical with joy at the news.

Around the table, other faces looked darker.

"Must we have the language of filth and the gutter banded about even at our breakfast table?" The Squire had never come to terms with the situation and felt things were coming to ahead.

"You know something, Sarah, you don't even sound like them now," reflected Gremalgin pulling a piece of toast apart. "When I first met you, you were full of things like: 'the blessings of our Sacred Catholic Majesty'. Now listen to you. A few more weeks and you could fit in on the streets of New York."

"But New York is but a small Dutch colony in the New World?" Sarah was curious at this remark.

"Where I just came from, it was hot!"

"The bowls of hell I trust?" remarked the Squire's wife.

"You bet sister." Gremalgin wiped her hands on the dress she had been given, to blend in with the period, and looked around. "Good news people, now Miss perfect here, has felt the fire of hell in her belly, we can go. Thanks for all your help, but we won't be back. Sarah get your act together, we are going to the Maze to jump time."

"Going? Without the knowledge of the Order?" The Squire rose from the table, looking worried and confused.

"Squire we must bid you a good day. We thank you for all your help, and I shall remark on your courage to the heads of the Order." Sarah flew from the table after Gremalgin as they left the room.

"Oh, by the way, we must do something about your name?"

"What is wrong with the name my parents gave unto me?"

"Too old fashioned. I know, how about Sandra? Hip?" Gremalgin ran to the garden and down to the Yew trees, which made up the magical Maze.

Sarah (now Sandra) ran after her. This time she was not filled with the sense of fear and dread, which had gripped her on the other two occasions. This time she looked forward with hope.

Once again she closed her eyes and felt the sense of dizziness which gripped you for a while. Then, when she opened them, she gazed upon the new world.

However this time, things were different. The air was gloomier, and the mood darker.

"Something's wrong Gremalgin. Do you not feel it?" She turned around and looked at the Yew trees, closing in.

"You'll find this time very different from the ones you have experienced up till now. Although you have been through a war haven't you?" Gremalgin was about to walk out of the maze.

"Why yes. Is there a war in this time?"

"Baby they are always at war here, and they make your little affair look like a picnic! Get ready for the machine age." With that, she walked through the door.

Sandra emerged to the new dawn and looked out on the world. This time the garden was in decay. Over-grown and crowded with weeds, the borders had been neglected for many years.

The lawn too had been badly treated, and Sandra wondered what game of Croquette could have ruined the grass this way. Just as she was about to find out what state the Manor house was in, a sound filled the air. One which grew in power until Sandra felt her eardrums would burst. Then to her horror, a dragon flew over her head and roared away over the village.

"What was that?"

"An aircraft," laughed Gremalgin watching it fly away. "Mustang I think. You better get used to them around here, but you'll love the Yanks."

"What are the Yanks?" Sandra wondered if this was now a world of demons like Gremalgin.

"They are what you call the Americans. In this age, they threw off the Empire and started their own country. Now England is well and truly in the shit, they have come back to bail you out."

She had read about such flying things in the books Fanshaw had given her, from the future. But to see one was beyond belief. Just as Sandra was trying to come to terms with this new aspect of the world, she was faced with another.

"Hey! Sisters come on over and meet the guys." A man walked down the steps from the garden entrance of the Manor and shouted at the two women.

When Sandra looked at him more closely, she saw he was very different from what she had met before. He was dressed in a uniform, she was sure of that. However it was none she had encountered up till now, and Sandra had acquired quite a knowledge of men in uniform.

"Your dialect Sir, from where do you abide?" Sandra walked over to him and felt the material of his dress.

"Pay no attention to her Mack, she's new." Gremalgin always felt at home in strange company and put her arm around the man. "You look like a boy in need of a good time, let's go inside."

"I just love this country, so friendly." The man took the two girls inside the Manor House, where other voices were growing louder.

Sandra could not place the strange talk. Almost like Gremalgin's strange ascent, it held even fewer of the verbal restrains she found marked her speech out from others. The dialect of 1645 had changed many times over the centuries.

Inside the house had changed too. Gone were the elaborate awnings and drapes, to be replaced by the most austere walls. The wooden panels had been boarded up to allow a very business-like atmosphere to flourish throughout the whole house.

"What has happened?" Sandra asked one woman passing her in the hall.

"Where you bin'? don't you know there's a war on? Blimey!" She turned to walk away, but Sandra stopped her.

"Please, I've been out of touch for some time. What of the people who once lived in the Manor House?"

"There wasn't anyone left when the Americans took it over. Were they relatives?" The woman could see Sandra was very distressed and warmed slightly to her predicament.

"In away. There were friends. We belonged to the same organisation." Sandra looked around them as uniformed men and women busied past.

"The only ones still here at the start of the War were the Tyler's that worked the garden. They still live in the village. You might try there. If I were you, love, I'd watch yourself with these yanks, there're so randy!" With that, the woman winked an eye and hurried off.

All around her were pilled boxed and papers and every room was used as an office. Cables and wired covered the floor, and Sandra watched in awe, as men and women spoke into strange machines and nodded their heads at the reply.

"This world is going to take some understanding?" Sandra spoke to herself as she stood amongst the chaos, then decided to find the gardeners.

Gremalgin had disappeared with the soldier, leaving her alone in this strange world. And although angry, Sandra wanted to find out more.

The village had changed too, with what Sandra believed to be, the horseless carriages, she had read about in Fanshaw's books of the future.

"So it was all true," she said out loud, as a column of green painted tanks rolled through the street.

The crews all shouted and called after her, as Sandra walked to the village pub. Something she did not mind, as she had always been grateful to men in uniform. Maybe these were the 'randy Yanks' she had been warned of?

Inside the pub, a crowd of people were doing their level best to drown out the worries of the War. Sandra had seen wars personally, and this one was being fought very differently.

After some awkward questions, she found the old gardener living in a small cottage on the edge of the village. Sandra remembered the streets as she walked to the house. Remembering too, the times when Cromwell's Roundheads charged up these very same lanes, cutting down people like corn.

The old man knew who she was as soon as he opened the door.

"You came back!" was all he said, as he let her inside.

"You knew of me from my time here in 1845?" Sandra sat in the comfortable armchair of the little cottage and looked around. "You cannot be over one hundred years old Sir?"

"No madam, but when I was a young boy my Grandfather told me of a strange woman, with links across the centuries. In his time; as a gardener at the Manor; and his Father before him too. He was told of your story by the Reverend Fanshaw." Mr Tyler made tea as they tried to piece together the story so far.

"He knew of the Reverend Fanshaw? How time is linked across the centuries by the memories of generations? So your family is native to Amptswell?"

"Yes, Madam. We were here when the village was attacked during the Civil War."

"So many wars. We have learnt little as a race. Tell me of this war?"

So Sandra was brought up to date with the facts of history. Nothing was said over her reputation, which must have survived over the centuries also. For nothing lives as long as gossip. But whatever the old man's Grandfather; and Great-grandfather before him, must have heard, none of it was used to embarrass Sandra.

"This Gremalgin creature? She did not come with you this time?" asked the man sipping tea.

"Yes, but she made scares herself on our arrival. Leaving me to fend for myself. Without your help Sir, I would be truly lost. There survives nothing of the Magical Order?"

"No, we were just poor folk and not privy to the goings-on of the gentry. We were never allowed to join any Magic Circle. So what became of them I cannot say." He saw Sandra looking at the items hanging on the cottage walls. "You're looking at the pictures?"

Sandra could remember the day the man arrived to paint the scene at the Manor. Although they all became very bored standing before the House in order to be included in the picture. The photograph was very different, as Gremalgin and herself had great fun dressing up as Victorian ladies.

"Did they not once hang in the Manor itself?" Sandra said the words with a smile.

"Yes, I hope you will forgive us?" he smiled back.

"Of course, they are but things and could go no way to repay your family for its loyalty over the centuries. When I last left the Manor, Squire Dorkins was concerned more with material matters of wealth, than his Magical duties. Probably contributory to his demise?"

"I should say so, Madam. May I ask what you intend doing now? You have a few contacts in this time, what are your plans?"

"To find this devil Chesterton, or whomever he hides behind now. In this devilish age, who knows what evil he may cause? He has to be stopped. In a way, I feel his dabblings are responsible for all this war." She waved a hand at the window, as more heavy armour rolled past, the ornaments in the house rattling.

"If this is so, he must be powerful indeed. Many people feel this Hitler is the devil himself. Personally, I just think he's a bad man, but there is something of Black Magic in what he does. He has no normal hold over people, so could this be part of it?"

"We are dealing with powerful Magic here. In this age of machines, Magic could be used to do almost anything. Once I doubted my place in the scheme of things, thinking it was best to stay a humble maid. Now I feel justified in taking my decision to travel."

Sandra stayed in the cottage for a few days to get her bearings. Mr Tyler was alone at the moment, as his family were either evacuated; on War work, or fighting aboard. His son was getting ready for the coming invasion of France. In time Sandra worked out a plan and set off back to the Manor House.

On arrival, she found a squad of soldiers being drilled on the drive. They seemed very scruffy compared to the cavalry she had watched go off to battle, her first love amongst them.

Her first question was answered as a staff car drove past, with Gremalgin riding next to the officer on the back seat. She saw Sandra and got the car to come to halt.

"Where you been? We are having such a great time, come and join us."

Very nervously Sandra joined them in the car. It was the first time she had ever ridden in one of these things and it took time to overcome the sensation of motion without horses. Gremalgin was very much at home.

She had made herself at home in the Manor House too. Reserving two rooms for them both, and displaying a remarkable degree of influence with the senior officers.

"Why do they welcome us back here, if it is their Head Quarters now?" Sandra did not understand how they were allowed to enjoy the freedom of the building so much.

"Look, we are here to provide a service, and like it or not, we have to screw these guys if we want to stay here. And don't tell me you don't enjoy it, because I know you do. That wasn't your first time back in 1845, so don't lie!"

It truly was a strange time, with the morality of previous centuries long gone. This was a very different war to others she had known, with bombs from the sky killing woman and children. Before Sandra had read about soldiers going off to fight in foreign wars. Now the foreigners flew over to kill the very people of Ampstwell. There was no chivalry and little honour. Men died like animals and not like men.

So Sandra could forgive some of the shocking things that went on with soldiers and young women. A walk through the village of an evening proved a real eye-opener. In her day, a girl had to take a soldier way out into the woods to do anything with him. Now sex acts were being performed behind hedges. Of course, they still pretended to have some sense of shame, especially when caught, but this did not stop them doing it all the same.

Gremalgin entered into the spirit of things more than most. One memorable occasion was when she sat astride a card table in the local pub, and let all the soldiers look at her hidden depths beneath her skirts. They had both agreed to dress in the manner of the times, and it was this grey skirt which was lifted up to reveal the absence of any knickers and the sight of her soft red lips.

She encouraged the soldiers to put out their hands and stroke the soft mound and surrounding curly hairs. They looked in fascination at the way she peeled open for them to reveal an even redder and wetter part of her body, the wrinkles and crevasses drawing all their stares. To everyone there, it was like looking at the most natural thing in the world, for it was the part of a woman's body they thought of the most and saw nothing wrong in being able to see it now. Gremalgin sat there with her legs in the air and smiled as she was asked questions about that most private part of her body, now up for public display. The men seemed genuinely curious as to some of its functions, and what she thought of them. To which Gremaglin was only too pleased to answer, telling what she felt when a man was inside her and what she hoped he would do.

Some of them were openly rubbing themselves between the legs when the Landlord broke things up. The soldiers felt angry that they were not being allowed to brandish their own weapons and fire a shot in anger. Gremalgin was pulled from the table, which was wet beneath her, and thrown out.

Sandra had to admit, that if she wanted to know more about the darker aspects of sexual exploration, this was the age in which to do it. Gremalgin pestered her again and again until she gave in and agreed to join her in some form of experiment.

Things seemed innocent enough at first as they travelled down to London to enjoy the company of the American officers. They had money and influence and knew how to use them. All tried not to be affected by the sights of bombing and destruction which met them, as they rode around London. Sandra wondered if there was anything else left to fight for?

They attended a succession of wild road parties which ended one evening in a stage show. The crowd swelled in the small hall and pressed up against the stage, where a dance band was thrashing out a popular number of the day. Everyone was dancing to the rhythm, or trying to, as they just ended up humping as one mass. It was this act which gave Gremalgin her most wicked idea so far.

The soldier she was with, took little convincing to press up tight behind her, which enabled the girl to rub her bottom against his crotch. This combined with the drink they had all consumed, made his weapon erect and hard straight away. The crowd was packed so tight and they were enjoying the music so much, that nobody noticed the girl hitch up her skirt for the man to slide inside her. All except Sandra, who knew exactly what was going on. Gremalgin smiled to her and let her know that it might be a good idea if she too joined in.

This Sandra did and found her heart was pounding with more excitement than she had ever known. To have sex in a large crowd, with people all around her, was too much. She just wanted that man to make the most of the bare buttocks she rubbed against him now, and he wasted no time in whipping his large weapon out and sliding it between her legs. It found her soft flower bowl and slid deep inside. So packed together they all performed as one couple, all humping and singing as the band smiled back and Sandra found she was quickly coming to orgasm. She sang out loud as the man shot hot steam into her and felt the lightning bolt shoot through her.

This was truly an experience, and if anybody caught on to what they were really doing, they never said.

The next thrilling moment was the night they rolled out the pub and walked through the darkened streets. An air-raid warning sounded and the cruel drone of a flying bomb sounded over-head.

The soldiers instinctively dragged the two girls into a doorway, until the crashing boom told them it had fallen to Earth. But whilst there, Gremalgin convinced her man to have her up against the shop door. The doorway itself provided little cover from the street, so anyone passing as they streamed out of the air-raid shelter, could clearly see what they were doing. So Sandra joined in. Pulling the man's buttocks deep into her as he let his shaft work it's magic upon her. She looked over her shoulder as people walked past. Some just giggled, but some sneered in disgust. Strangely this turned Sandra on even more, and she wanted to be degraded even more as if there was no bottom to her shame. This was a thrilling orgasm!