The Gift 1923 Pt. 01

(Author's Note: Hi everyone and thank you for checking out this story! There's been a long gap since I last wrote anything but I'm keen to get back to it. If you've read my series, The Gift, you'll know that Lioness Pictures is preparing to make an ambitious, period-set drama. Consider this series to be the novelization of the film!

This is obviously a work of erotic fantasy and no disrespect is intended in my depiction of the work undertaken by nurses and doctors.

All sexual exploits occur with characters over 18yrs - Chloe)

It was a short ride from the railway station. Florence sat in the back of the cab, her weekend bag on the seat next to her. She gazed out of the window as the scenery changed from the relative hustle and bustle of Cirencester to the countryside and mused how very little had changed since she was last here, before the war.

Florence was well aware of how much she had changed, however. She'd last been here aged 16, just before leaving for boarding school in Lincoln. St Catherines had been the school of choice for each generation of the Camberton girls. However just as she was finishing her final year, war broke out. Florence had been swept up in the drama of seeing young men marching down the streets, off to do their part, that she felt the need to be part of it herself. So, at the age of 20 Florence found herself as a junior nurse in France.

And now I'm back here, she thought to herself as the cab turned through the stone pillars that indicated the start of the Camberton estate. She had no immediate family of her own here now. Her father had been a colonel in the army who'd been killed in action, her mother, Jane, had died shortly after hearing the news. The estate had moved into the hands of Florence's Aunt Marjory.

It hadn't been Florence's intention to come back here, except she'd received a very cordial invitation from her aunt, asking for some assistance with what she described as a "delicate matter". Ever since receiving the letter, Florence had pondered what kind of assistance she could possibly provide her aunt.

The cab sped along the bridal path leading to the house, lined on both sides with trees which were in full green. Despite her early misgivings about being back, she was smiling as the house, a large mansion with three wings, got closer. As the cab slowed, Florence could see two figures waiting by the main door.

As soon as the cab came to a halt, the driver climbed out and opened her door for her. Florence stepped out and recognised her aunt Marjory stepping towards her with her arms outstretched.

"Florence darling! It's so good of you to come. Welcome back!" she smiled. Florence stepped into the embrace, wrapping her own arms around her aunt.

"It's lovely to see you, and I must admit, its lovely to be back, Aunt Marjory".

"Oh please, just Marjory! You're not a young girl anymore! In fact, let's look at you!" She took a step back and took in Florence's figure. She'd dressed a little conservatively for the journey, a shin-length dress under her long-cut jacket. Florence's hair was cut in a fashionable bob and her lips had a light coating of rouge.

"Marvelous, Florence dear. I can't wait to catch up with you after dinner."

Florence, in turn, was appraising herself of her aunt. She knew Marjory's husband, Kenneth, was a captain in the navy and was tragically killed -- his ship sunk by a submersible of all things! - and Marjory had been running the estate on her own for the past six years. She seemed to have aged gracefully and had kept up to date with her choice of fashion. Her brown hair was showing a little grey but was well-kept, neatly tied in a chignon, showing off her large pearl earrings which matched her necklace. Florence smiled broadly at her.

A young man wearing the house livery stepped forward, with a limp in his left leg.

"May i take your bag, ma'am?" he asked.

"This is Jennings, my right-hand man", Marjory explained. Florence guessed he must be roughly the same age as herself.

"Thank you, Jennings, that is most kind".

"I thought you'd like your old room, Florence dear. It's been refurnished, of course, but I'm sure it holds some happy memories for you."

"That is most kind, thank you, Marjory." In truth, Florence didn't know what to think of the gesture. She hadn't expected it, in truth she hadn't thought of where she'd sleep at all. But she reasoned this was Marjory's way of saying she was more than a mere guest. She was family.

Marjory smiled and nodded to Jennings, who took Florence's bag into the house, while Marjory linked arms with her niece and led her inside.

"I'll let you go and freshen up dear, and we can have a nice dinner together, and then a chat as to why i invited you here."

"I'm looking forward to it, Marjory. All this mystery has certainly piqued my interest!"

Florence entered her room -- a place she'd spent seventeen years of her life. Like many girls she'd been home-schooled with her own private tutors, then sent to finishing school where she boarded. She had mixed feelings as she stepped inside. The floral wallpaper had been removed, and the walls painted plain white. A larger, adult-sized bed took up the space where her old single bed had been, and her old school desk had been replaced with a bureau. She opened the doors to the walk-in wardrobe and started to unpack her clothes. She'd brought enough outfits for the weekend, ones which were reasonably versatile given she had no idea what she'd be up to or what her aunt had planned.

The view remained the same though, as Florence gazed out of the large window. Her room overlooked the front of the house, so she could always see when someone was visiting, watching them drive down the long bridle path. She spent many a day, sitting in front of the window, reading. She could tell the grounds had been well-cared for. Obviously, Jennings, despite his young age, knew what he was doing. It made her feel happy, knowing that the estate was in good hands and would persevere for generations to come. It wasn't something which had concerned her, in her younger days -- the estate and this house had seemed timeless. However, she had seen first-hand the destruction of war, and how quickly, devastatingly quickly, things can change. On her way to her first duty station in France, she'd taken in the lush green scenery, it seemed idyllic and reminded her of home. But a mere four months later, she'd travelled the same route and hardly recognised it. The area had seen intense fighting with both sides bombarding it. The green fields had been replaced with muddy brown, churned over and over by the heavy machinery of war. Vehicles no better than burnt twisted clumps of metal littered the field. Yes, Florence thought to herself, this could all change in an instant...

There was a knock at the door, and Florence went to open it. Outside was one of the servants. Florence didn't recognise her; she was quite young.

"Madame has asked me to see if i can run you a bath, Miss, she smiled. Florence smiled back at the pretty young woman.

"What is your name, dear?" she asked.

"Juliet, Miss", came the reply.

"Thank you, Juliet, a bath would be lovely."

"Right away, Miss. I'll let you know when it's ready!" and she left immediately to see to the bath.

The bathroom was a large, tiled room with a large tub situated in its centre, on a raised dais. Florence had found a robe in her room to use, and walked in as Juliet was testing the temperature of the water. She looked round and smiled.

"Hot but not scolding, Miss," she said, and stood back. Juliet's eyes widened momentarily as Florence untied the robe and let it slip from her shoulders, sliding off her bare skin. The young woman couldn't help but take in the lean, lithe figure of her mistress's guest, her pert small breasts, or her very tidy pubic mound.

Florence caught her gaze and said, "It's the latest in grooming among women in London. Do you like it?"

"it's very pretty, yes Miss," said Juliet, her gaze locked on the neat triangle of fur. She suddenly realised and shook herself out of it, a pink shade coming to her cheeks. "Oh I'm so sorry, Miss, I shouldn't have been staring like that!"

Florence held out her hand for Juliet to take hold of and steady herself as she stepped into the tub. The heat of the water tingled up her legs and she remained standing for a moment before tentatively kneeling one leg at a time, then finally stretching out and letting the hot water wash over her.

"Ohhh....i think I'll be in here a while; this is lovely Juliet". As she slid further down in the water, Florence could feel her body relaxing, suddenly appreciating how tense she'd been. She leaned her head back, allowing her hair to soak in the water, enjoying the sensation of it. After a few moments she opened her eyes and realised that Juliet was still in attendance.

"Do you require anything else, Miss?" said Juliet.

Florence pondered for a moment before asking, "Well, Juliet, what do you suggest?"

"Do you require any assistance, Miss? I can help scrub your back, for instance...?" The words were innocent enough, but Florence fancied there was a small twinkle in the maid's eyes as she said it.

"Actually, Juliet, that sounds lovely. I could do with a little pampering after today's journey." She moved a little forward in the tub, leaning forward to bring her back above the water line.

Juliet rolled her sleeves up past her elbows and picked up a bar of soap, dipped it in the water then started to rub Florence's back with it. It wasn't long before smears of soapy lather started to spread across her skin. Juliet placed the soap down and placed her palm in the strap of a circular scrubbing brush and started to work it back and forth across Florence's shoulders, and down her spine.

Florence sighed, loudly, letting her breath exhale as she enjoyed the attention to her back muscles, and spine. She didn't mind either when the brush disappeared under the waterline and gently scrubbed the small of her back.

"Since you've already wet your hair, Miss, would you like me to wash it for you? Madame uses the new liquid kind of shampoo."

"I'd love that, yes, Juliet" Florence murmured. After rinsing her back, Juliet stood and opened a cabinet, taking out a bottle of dark green liquid.

"Move back, please, Miss," Juliet said, as she herself moved to the end of the tub. She guided Florence back until her neck was against the rim. A moment later, Florence felt the thick liquid pouring slowly on her scalp, followed by Juliet's hands firmly massaging it into her hair.

Florence heard herself purr in pleasure.

"Madame Marjory keeps up with the latest fashions and cosmetics, then?" she asked softly.

"Oh yes Miss. She makes regular trips to London and makes sure to sample all the new products. If I may say so Miss, your aunt remains a very handsome and attractive woman."

"I absolutely agree, Juliet," Florence murmured. Her head was bobbing now under Juliet's massaging hands.

"And how is my aunt's social life? Does she get out much? Does she receive visitors?"

Juliet's hands paused. "Oh Miss, I cannot talk about that," she said, "except to say that, well her circle of friends remains large, and, um, varied."

"An intriguing way to put things dear Juliet but I admire your discretion." Florence leant her head back more, hoping Juliet would get the hint. Juliet was nothing if not perceptive. She rinsed Florence's hair and applied more shampoo, which foamed much richer this time. Now, Juliet's fingers were much slower, caressing not scrubbing, and Florence's eyes were closed.

"You're making me feel like a proper princess, Juliet," she sighed. Thick foam was sliding down her cheeks, over her ears.

"Thank you, Miss," whispered Juliet. The atmosphere in the bathroom had changed somewhat, Florence felt that things were more intimate. Florence didn't know how far to push, so merely said, "I am totally in your hands, Juliet" and left it at that.

Juliet scooped some of the lather from Florence's hair and smeared if over her shoulders, tentatively, and when Florence didn't react, her hands slide slowly into the water, over Florence's breasts.

"You have a beautiful body, Miss", she whispered in her ear.

"And you have a lovely touch, Juliet," she sighed, arching her back a little, pushing her breasts into Juliet's hands.

Florence's eyes were closed now, her lips pursed. There was no sound but their breathing and the gentle disturbance of the water as Juliet moved her hands. She slid lower, over Florence's tummy trying not to be impatient.

Eventually, Florence felt two slender fingers touch her mound, stroking her wet fur in circles. She purred and raised one leg out of the water, draping it over the side of the bath. Very unladylike, she thought to herself but didn't care in the least. She was fully aroused now and needed this girl. Juliet was no stranger to pleasuring a woman, that was sure, and wondered briefly if she performs this service for her aunt.

Juliet's fingers were now exploring her lips, her folds, curling over and over against her opening and sliding between them, making Florence gasp. She opened her eyes and stared glassily at Juliet, whose own face was flush also. They looked at each other as Juliet's fingers pushed into her pussy, pushing deeper into her.

Florence tried not to move, perversely wanting Juliet to service her but she couldn't help herself. Water sloshed back and forth as she found herself embracing her touch, her fingers invading her cunt. She looked at Juliet, her mouth open, panting as she felt her orgasm wash over her like a wave. She grunted, pushing down with her hips, impaling herself on Juliet's fingers, her back arched as she shook, then slid down into the bath, her head completely under the water, as Juliet stroked her hair, washing off the remaining suds.

When she resurfaced, Florence said, "Thank you Juliet. I'll be getting out now."

"Certainly, Miss," she said, taking a large towel and offering her hand to Florence as she stepped out. She wrapped her up in the towel and helped her dry off her arms and legs, then wrapped a smaller towel around her hair.

Florence walked back to her room, followed by Juliet, who'd dried off her arms and rolled her sleeves back down.

"Do you have other duties to attend to, Juliet?". The servant glanced at the carriage clock on the bureau and sighed.

"Yes Miss, I'm due to help out in the kitchen."

"Well, Juliet, I am most grateful for your attention to me this afternoon, and i hope i get the opportunity to show my gratitude at some point."

Juliet smiled broadly.

"That's not really necessary, Miss, but if you do see me at a loose end, please feel free to occupy my time."

With that, Juliet removed herself from Florence's room and shut the door.

It was now eight o'clock, and the light was starting to dim outside. Both Florence and her aunt sat on chaise-longs, facing each other, a bottle of red wine on a small table between them. It was a warm evening, so there was no need for the fire to be lit yet.

Marjory took a sip of her wine, looking at her niece.

"You've certainly developed into a lovely woman, Florence. It was a bit of a shock seeing you get out of the cab this afternoon. I must confess I half expected the same girl in pigtails I'd last seen you as."

Florence smiled at the memory.

"Mum's birthday, I remember. The summer before I left for St Catherine's."

"And then the world changed. You did finish at St Cath's I take it?"

"Yes, i managed to graduate -- quite successfully, I might add!" she mimed polishing a medal on her tunic, which made Marjory chuckle.

"I remember my time at St Cath's quite fondly. Your mother had already been through before I got there. Quite the legend, she was. The Sisters who ran it still remembered her name, and her exploits." She gave Florence a conspiratory wink, which made Florence sit up a bit than she was.

"Oh? Really? I wasn't aware of any stories about mummy."

"Well, you would have gone there under your father's name, whereas Jane -- your mother -- and I, we had gone under our maiden names."

"I see, of course. So, what had she been like? At school?"

Marjory didn't answer straight away, she instead refilled both of their glasses with the bottle of merlot.

"Let me say first, Florence, that we are now slowly -- very slowly, embarking towards the reason I've invited you here." Florence arched an eyebrow at her aunt's playful smile.

"And first tell me a little about your time at St Cath's."

"Well, as you would know Marjory, I learned Latin and French, literature, I..."

"That is what you were taught, of course, dear...but I'm talking about what you learned from the other girls...learned about yourself, Florence."

Florence stared at her. She knew what she was driving at. Florence was a very forward, outgoing woman, had even been described as "brazen" by friends. However, she'd never talked about her experiences as such -- pillow talk with lovers of course, but never with a member of her family. It was dawning on her for the first time that her experiences at St Cath's were not as unique as she may have imagined.

She lifted her glass and drained it.

"We're going to need something stronger than a merlot, I suspect."

Marjory got up and went to a glass cabinet, taking out a decanter of brandy and some glasses. She poured two large measures and handed one to Florence. She smiled inwardly as Florence savoured its aroma before sipping gently.

"Yes, this should do the trick!" she said, and settled back on the chaise-long.

"Can we talk plainly, Marjory?" she asked.

"Haven't we been?" her aunt enquired.

"Not entirely. We're skirting around something, and I think we need to be frank with each other, especially as you are enquiring about my sexual exploits at Finishing School!"

"I do not intend to embarrass or upset you, Florence, I'm in no position to judge, I assure you. You can consider this...well, two friends comparing experiences."

"Well then, I'm sure you can remember what it was like there, sharing a room with another girl. The Sisters were keen that no one would be on their own because they reasoned -- wrongly -- that no girl would try and touch themselves with another present. But of course we did, furtively, secretly at first, until the fateful night one overheard the other. Then there were secret conversations, confessions, till one night we're both at it, touching ourselves openly, at the same time, listening and watching each other..."

"It's almost like you're in my own memory, Florence. That is exactly what it was like for me as well."

Florence sipped her brandy, staring at nothing.

"That was how it was for most of the final year, Marjory, until it was almost time to come home for the Summer. We'd become more and more curious about our bodies, each other. We were touching naked now, on top of our sheets. And then one night we were touching each other. It was both magical and cruel that we had left it so late in the year."

Marjory was silent for a moment. Both women concentrating on their glasses of brandy, swirling it gently.

"Alice," Marjory said eventually. "My roommate, my first. She was called Alice. She was very sweet, she had lovely breasts. We learned a lot about ourselves and each other."

"And mummy? You mentioned her notoriety..."

"Well, she, it turned out, was quite promiscuous. She not only slept with her roommate, three of the other girls also."

"Well, that's not exactly unheard of, Marjory," said Florence.

"...at the same time. She became known for holding group sex parties among the girls." This news made Florence take a large sip from her glass, trying to imagine her mother in the midst of a sapphic orgy.

"That's incredible, Marjory. I thought my own education had been exciting but..."