2 comments/ 24665 views/ 1 favorites Nancy's Place By: Moondrift “Nancy Wilson’s Holiday Home for Empire Young Ladies.” In the days when the sun never set on the British Empire you might have seen this advertisement in newspapers from the London to the Bombay Times and all up market newspapers in between. No one ever called it by its full name; it was always “Nancy’s Place.” In those far off days men and their families went out from the British Isles to serve in all manner of countries in business, administrative and military capacities. These ex-patriots, like many other human beings, tended to breed, especially as contraception wasn’t what it is now. There was a view held by these people that their sons and daughter had to be returned to the “Mother Country” in order to receive their education. Thus it was that boarding schools, quaintly and inaccurately called “Public Schools,” located in the homeland, served the educational needs of these far flung servants of the Empire. Nancy’s Place occupied a particular niche in this educational mart. Had you read on in the details of Nancy’s advertisements you would have learned that it served the “Holiday needs of Empire Young Ladies.” To be clear; when the long summer school holidays came around many of the Empire Young Ladies could not return to the distant bosoms of their families. The reasons for this were varied, but the main reasons given were, the sea voyage took so long it wasn’t worth the trip, or the climate in which the parents lived was “unhealthy,” and would endanger their children. Beneath these virtuous sounding reasons lurked, in many cases, the desire of the parents to continue their lives of chota pegs and pink gins at the club untroubled by their offspring. Thus the long school holidays proved to be a bit of a nuisance to these “far flung” parents. The alternatives available short of having the poor wretches join them were, a compliant relative in the home country who would take the child in during the holidays, or some boarding schools that allowed the child to stay on for the long summer weeks. The problem with the latter arrangement was that the victim was virtually without suitable companionship for up to eight weeks. This was where “Nancy’s Place” came in. To explain briefly about Nancy; at eighteen she met and married a handsome and virile young man called Gordon. Their wedding took place one week before Gordon was to set sail for some distant corner of the Empire to serve as an Assistant Deputy Commissioner. Nancy went with him. That particular corner of the Empire proved to be especially rich in all manner of tropical diseases, and within six months Gordon had succumbed to one of the more virulent examples, and had gone to that Great Empire in the Skies ruled over in those days by a Deity that spoke with an Oxbridge accent. I hasten to add that these days the same Deity, or at least a variation of Him/Her/It, speaks with a transatlantic accent. Nancy was distraught. Her potent lover/husband, passimg beyond this veil of tears within so short a time, and for all their nightly endeavours, no offspring on the way. The upshot was that Nancy returned to the land of her fathers resolved never more to permit male entry into her lovely female body. Now let me be clear; Nancy was no fool, in fact she was a very, very bright young lady. She was also extremely observant and for the brief time she dwelt in that particular disease pit of the Empire she noted the problem of what to do with “the young wretch(es)” during those inconvenient holidays. Despite her distrait condition Nancy contemplated this problem during the voyage home, and setting foot on her native soil, she felt she had the answer. Using the narrow resources left to her by Gordon and what she could inveigle her relatives ands to part with, plus a huge mortgage, she bought a pleasant old manor house. After many expensive modifications the manor house, once the residence of a by then impoverished minor aristocrat, became, as I have said, “Nancy’s Place.” If that name is redolent of certain lurid establishments, let me hasten to add that Nancy’s Place embraced only the highest of moral standards. The opening of the establishment was trumpeted throughout the Empire, and despite the exorbitant fees demanded by Nancy, proved popular with the upper and more highly paid echelons of those serving their king and country in distant lands. Applications rolled in from those who wanted to “keep the little bastards as far away from us as possible,” and Nancy found herself riding on a high tide of financial success. She was but a tender twenty one when the establishment opened its doors, and so to ensure an air of virtue for her establishment Nancy was wise enough to employ two maiden ladies, namely the Misses Edith and Angel both of impeccable character and middle years. In addition she took on a Mrs. Agatha Turtle, widow, as cook. Further staff was added in the years that followed but that is not our concern here, except in one particular instance. Suffice to say the whole enterprise took off in a manner not even anticipated by the shrewd Nancy. Young Empire Ladies came to reside in her establishment in abundance, even to the point where Nancy had to refuse many applications. Not only did these young ladies arrive during holiday times, but many in transit came and went, thus ensuring a steady inflow of money. Now apart from the desire of the Empire Parents to keep as much sea room between themselves and the “seed of his loins,” and “the fruit of her womb,” to what can we ascribe this success? Now surely we have reached the point when we must view Nancy in more detail. Not only was she a shrewd woman of business and avowed celibate, she was also devastatingly beautiful. Upon her becoming a widow many young and not so young men on bended knee begged for her hand in marriage, each to be turned away broken hearted by the now celibate Nancy. This beauty might have counted against her when she interviewed the parents of potential “Guests,” but as you will realise, those parents for the most part were too far distant to attend interviews. Should, however, the said parents be home on leave, or their nominated representative arrive for an interview, Nancy made sure that the Misses Edith and Angel together with the Rector of the local Church of England, who for a suitable fee served as chaplain to Nancy’s Place, were present. This seemed to reassure the parents or their representative that the establishment was of suitable moral rectitude and solemnity. Then there was the other side of the equation, the girls themselves. Should they write to their far flung parents, complaining of wretched circumstances and harsh treatment, who knows if the said parents might relent and withdraw their daughters from Nancy’s care? Fortunately, along with her many other worthy qualities, Nancy had a sunny disposition and, being still young herself, had a sympathetic understanding of the problems and needs of young girls. Even the Misses Edith and Angel were not quite the serious ladies they appeared to be, and were known to let their hair down with the cook, Mrs. Turtle (known affectionately as “Dove”) when they split a bottle or two of red wine in late night kitchen revelries, in which they were sometimes joined by the chaplain. Thus the girls resident in Nancy’s Place found little cause for complaint. Those who during term times endured the rigours of the boarding schools, found respite and freedom from the onerous discipline with Nancy and her staff, and rejoiced. Of course, Nancy’s Place provided a vast variety of occupations and activities varying from walks in the surrounding countryside through dancing, singing and music lessons, to coaching in mathematics, English, Geography, etc., for those wishing to engage in these activities and get ahead for the coming boarding school educational agonies. I should point out that there was no compulsion to participate in these “Tutorials” as they were called. They were just there for those who desired them. For all these activities Nancy had to employ tutors, and in keeping with about her only oppressive rule, these were all female. No male under fifty years of age, the chaplain at that time being fifty two, was allowed to visit a girl unless with the express written permission of the girl’s parents, and even then the man had to be a brother or other near relative. Nancy was determined that no hint of scandal would touch her establishment; above all no coitus with fruitful outcome. To ensure the continued virtue of her Empire Ladies even where written permission had been given, Nancy or one of the Misses Edith or Angel were present during the interviews. Not, you understand that Nancy did not recognize the desires of young ladies; she was still too close to the days of her own yearning. The age range of her charges extended from about eight years of age to eighteen. She herself took charge of those most vulnerable to the wicked blandishments of young men, the fourteen to eighteen year olds. The younger children were in the charge of the Misses Edith and Angel. Nancy had a very close relationship with her specific charges, and most unusual for those more formal days, they were all allowed to call her “Nancy.” The girls that Nancy took into her special care were lodged in two-bed bedrooms. It is a clear indication of Nancy’s insight into young female appetites, that she experienced no anxiety when at night, passing along the corridor on which her charges rooms were located, she heard ecstatic squeals and moans issuing forth. “After all,” she meditated, “Who knows what the Misses Edith and Angel get up to in their shared bedroom; or for that matter, what went on in the kitchen on the nights of revelry when the two Misses had departed for bed. Nancy was fully aware that, on such nights, Dove who in her fifties was still ripe of lip and buxom of bosom, could be seen heading for her bedroom with the chaplain in tow, and that some two hours later the chaplain could be observed flitting through the dark garden on his way back to his chaste Rectory. Then of course, Nancy the celibate could still remember her own days before Gordon when, stretched out on her bed in the fastness of the night, she caressed her breasts and circled her clitoris with a gentle finger. “If only I’d had another girl to enjoy myself with then,” she thought. So all went on serenely in Nancy’s Place. The distant parents were satisfied and the girls were as content as possible, given the lack of male companionship – a rather severe deprivation for the older girls. Then came the moment of crisis. Just prior to the customary in rush of “Guests” for the summer holiday, the history tutor normally employed by Nancy announced she was getting married, and would not continue in the task. Nancy set to and put advertisements in all the educational magazines. Such was the salary offered, and the relaxed conditions of employment, that normally there would have been a flood of applications, but not so on this occasion. It is true that Nancy demanded very high qualifications from those whom she employed as tutors, and at least two character references from members of the clergy. Of the few who applied, their qualifications were totally inadequate. There was however one notable exception. This applicant came with qualifications far beyond even Nancy’s exacting standards. In addition, there were four character references; one from a local vicar, one from an archbishop and two from cathedral deans. With all this to recommend the applicant all should have been well, except for one very large fly in the ointment, he was a male. Nancy had specified that “Only females need apply,” so why this man had applied was a mystery. Looking over the qualifications submitted, and considering that with such credentials and recommendations she was dealing with a man getting on in years, Nancy decided to give him an interview. “He’s probably just looking for a fill in job before retirement,” she told the Misses Edith and Angel. The day and time for the interview was fixed via telephone, with Nancy putting on her most severe voice. The voice at the other end sounded rather cheerful, even having a note of levity she thought. The day and hour arrived, and with it the applicant. Horror of horrors, he was young and handsome, some twenty six summers of age, with a bright cheerful countenance and he moved with athletic ease. This was not at all what Nancy had expected, and certainly didn’t fit in with her normal staff requirements. Her immediate reaction was to reject the young man, Charles Fleet by name. Nancy, however, was caught in a difficult position. History had been included in the tutorial subjects she offered, and it seemed that it was a fairly popular subject among her young ladies, whose arrival was now only two days off. To be unable to provide what she had advertised might tarnish her to date impeccable reputation. Nancy was unusually ambivalent about what to do. She had the Misses Edith and Angel with her during the interview. She asked Charles to wait outside. On asking the views of the Misses she was disconcerted by their twittering and chirpy responses. “Such a nice young man,” warbled Edith. “So polite and well spoken,” echoed Angel. In near desperation Nancy telephoned each of the referees. One of the deans was not available, but on being asked on what matter she wished to speak to the dean, Nancy said, “It’s about a young man called Charles Fleet.” The voice at the other end, female, went into ecstasies. “Such a lovely young man; a brilliant mind; we’re sure he has a calling to the priesthood.” And so it went on for about two minutes. The other referees were equally glowing in their praise; in fact Nancy thought she could almost feel the telephone wires trembling in exultation at the fulsome praise of Charles. Nancy called Charles in and this time interviewed him alone. As subtly as she could she informed him of the female nature of her establishment in which only the highest moral standards were acceptable. Many of her staff, including the non-local staff employed for the holiday period were housed in the main building; in the case of Charles, he could use the flat above the old coach house, this at least in part would remove him from the tempting female flesh in the main building. Charles listened to her looking at her with, what Nancy herself had to admit, were “beautiful brown eyes” and a very fetching smile on his lips. In fact, despite herself, Nancy began to feel drawn to this attractive young man. This attraction almost made Nancy reverse her decision to employ him, but given her difficult situation, she set aside her prejudice and announced that he could start in three days time and, if it suited him, he could move in to the coach house as soon as he liked. Thanking her quietly Charles said that he would like to move in the next day, and, if she could spare him the time would like to run over exactly what he was expected to cover in his tutorials. Nancy who had a busy schedule for the next day; without knowing quite why, she cancelled a number of appointments and while intending to set aside one hour for their discussion, found herself telling him they could “have a couple of hours together.” Charles duly moved into the coach house next day and presented himself at Nancy’s office. She gave him a run down of his duties that were far from onerous. Nancy’s Place was not a school. History was only taken by the older girls, specifically those in Nancy’s direct care. There were twelve girls coming of whom seven had been signed up for history tutorials. “It’s a matter of individual attention,” Nancy explained, “and if they have done poorly in the subject over the past year, getting them up to speed. In addition, I would like you to prepare them for the coming year. I assume you are acquainted with the history curriculum for next year?” “Yes, I’ve been going over it.” “Good; of course the girls vary in age from fourteen to eighteen, but as the eighteen year olds are probably leaving their present schools to go on to continental finishing schools, they don’t usually bother much about the tutorials.” “Your actual contact time with the girls should amount to no more than two or thee hours each day, but I emphasis, it is the individual contact that is of greatest importance, and a relaxed atmosphere. The girls are not here for high pressure teaching, and are as entitled to enjoy their holiday time as any other girl. It is important that they find the tutorial a pleasant experience.” “Understood,” said Charles. This part of their discussion took only about half an hour, and Nancy was wondering why she had cancelled so many appointments in order to be with Charles. She was also wondering what they were going to talk about for the next hour and a half. Nancy was curious why Charles had answered her advertisement in the first place, so she went on to quiz him about this, and in the process got quite a lot of information about him. He was anticipating an appointment to the staff of an overseas university, but, as he explained, “They take their time about these things, so I needed something to fill in the time until I heard from them, and also to earn a little money. I saw your advert, and despite the fact that you asked for only female applicants, I took a chance and wrote. I mean, there was no harm in trying was there?” “No,” said Nancy, “there was no harm in trying, and obviously you’ve succeeded.” Despite Nancy’s wish to remain the stern head of her establishment, she found herself melting and even laughing with Charles. In order to try and re-establish the employer-employee relationship she said sternly; “One of the rules of this establishment is, that all attend the service at the Parish Church at eleven o’clock on Sunday mornings. You will of course join us.” “Of course,” said Charles, smiling his charming smile, “Since my father is a bishop I’m used to attending morning service. It runs in the family.” “Aha,” thought Nancy, “so that’s why he got so many clerical accolades.” Thus did Charles Fleet begin his pedagogical activities among Nancy’s Empire Young Ladies. The response to Charles’ arrival in their midst had something of a dramatic effect on the young ladies. Being almost totally denied access to males both in their boarding schools and in Nancy’s Place, the advent of such a pleasing young man found them paying more than usual attention to their grooming and dress arrangements. In addition, those girls who had not been signed up for history tutorials found a sudden interest in the subject to the effect that all of them were soon in attendance at “Mr. Charles’” sessions. Nancy was rather overwhelmed when she faced a somewhat rebellious younger group of girls demanding that history tutorials be also available to them. Nancy sat in on all Mr. Charles’ tutorials to ensure that propriety prevailed and was further troubled when she noticed that the girls took any opportunity to gain “individual attention” from Mr. Charles. This attention included any chance to touch the young man and engage in giggling banter with him. As to Mr. Charles himself, he seemed to accept the approaches of the young ladies with a mixture of good humour and aplomb; replying to their girlish repartee without once, as the bard says, seeking to get “his hands in the placket.” Mr. Charles also joined the young ladies and Nancy on their country walks. These rambles were intended to provide virtuous exercise and a study of nature. This study however, did not face all the facts of nature, “red in tooth and claw.” The sight of little animals of the fields and woods, perhaps trailing young offspring, tended to be dismissed as “Sweet.” No word of the copulation that led up to led up to this “sweet” issue was ever heard, except perhaps out of Nancy’s hearing. Nancy's Place During the course of these rambles Nancy noticed that the bolder of her young ladies sought to cling to Mr. Charles’ arms when opportunity presented. This was an alarming development for which she could not in all justice blame Mr. Charles. She did however, in Mr. Charles’ absence, admonish the girls that this was not an action attendant upon their virginal status, but this seemed to have little effect upon the male starved maidens. To further alarm Nancy, the Misses Edith and Angel, together with other of her female holiday tutors, also took opportunity to join in the countryside saunters. Even Dove took, what Nancy thought of, as an “unhealthy interest” in Mr. Charles, despite her suspected nocturnal relationship with the chaplain. One day while idly sitting in on a geography tutorial conducted by a middle aged lady, Nancy became aware that every eye was turned to the window. Glancing to see what the distraction was, she saw Mr. Charles making his way from the main building to his coach house abode. Every step of his way was tracked by the female eyes until he passed through the door and out of sight. A communal sigh arose in the room. All this was dreadful enough in Nancy’s eyes, but another cause gave her even greater grounds for alarm. They were only three weeks into the holiday period and Nancy was contemplating suggesting to Mr. Charles that he might seek employment elsewhere. As she lay in bed one night meditating on this, a mental picture of Mr. Charles hovering around in her brain, she felt something that had not occurred to her for a long time. In fact she had not felt this sensation since Gordon days. The chaste Nancy tried to deny that she was experiencing a slight throbbing excitation in her nether region, or more specifically, her clitoris. To investigate this unwonted phenomenon she placed an exploratory finger on the nerve filled little nub. Nothing seemed amiss, except that the probing finger increased the sensation, and adding to her puzzlement was the fact that her vagina seemed exceptionally moist and she was sure her nipples were hardening. She replaced the clitoris investigating finger with her thumb, thus allowing the finger to research the wetness of her vagina. Her free hand now cupped her breast, her fingers gently pressing a nipple. After a few moments of this research the image of Mr. Charles seemed to intensify and this was accompanied by a rather pleasant if violent series of tremors to which she responded with cries of, “Oh my God….yes….yes…yes…”, as she visualised herself and Mr. Charles in a highly compromising situation. After a considerable amount of heaving and convulsing Nancy managed to stop the throbbing in her clitoris, and she lay back on her virtuous mattress in a state of delightful relaxation. For the first time since Gordonian days she was enjoying her body, including the sweet fragrance that her sexual organ seemed to be emitting. To add to this pleasure she raised a soft little hand to her lips, and tasted the outpourings of her vagina. This combination of taste and odour set the clitoral alarm bells going again, and quickly Nancy was struggling to relieve the revived symptoms. The battle, even more virulent than the first time, over, Nancy pondered in the fastness of the night. At the evil hour when the monsters rise from the deep and our problems and fears grow to engulf us, she made a decision. “Before the sun sets upon this day, he must be gone.” With that thought she finally settled to sleep in the midst her bedraggled sheet and blanket disarrayed bed. If she dreamed, then the content of those her dreams lay secretly ensconced in her beautiful bosom. Now it was one of the signs of the egalitarian nature of Nancy relationship with her older charges, that she shared a shower room with them. Whilst each of the dozen showers had it own modest cubicle, there was coming and going and much exposure of delightful young female flesh. Nancy, rising from her troubled night, her resolve to be rid of Mr. Charles before the sun set still firm, she made her way to the shower room. She entered to the sound of hissing showers and much female laugher and chatter. In this environment Nancy had often contemplated the beauty of her charges, the slender figures and proud pink nippled breasts. “How lovely is young womanhood,” she would think to herself. But on this particular morning the tables were turned, so to speak. There was among the young ladies one, Alicia; a delightful but rather outspoken young lady with the unfortunate habit of saying what was on her mind. On this showering occasion Alicia, her young body glowing from the warmth of her just completed shower, looked admiringly at Nancy who divesting herself of her dressing gown, was naked for all to see. Now it must be said that Nancy had appeared thus before the young ladies on many occasions, it just came about that Alicia on this occasion chose to speak her thoughts. “Nancy, dear, you really are beautiful.” Nancy, taken aback by this declaration sought to protest. “Don’t be silly, Alicia, I am not in the least beautiful.” False modesty on Nancy’s part it may have been, but emboldened by Alicia’s pronouncement voices came from all around the steam filled room. “You are lovely Nancy”; “I wish I had you’re figure”; “You always look absolutely super”, and so it went. Of course, Gordon in the time he was with her had said many things if this sort about his beloved, but Nancy had locked all that away at the time she resolved to lead the life of sensual abstinence. Given her deeds and resolve of the previous night, rather than elevate her spirits, the positive reflections on her comeliness did but aggravate her troubled mind. She understood full well that beauty in a woman did but bring about the attentions of the male gender as in the past she had experienced. Once resolved on the sexually unsullied life, and ensconced for the most part within the female environment of her establishment, she had no longer been disturbed by importune males seeking her hand, or any other part of her anatomy. Now, the comments by Alicia, added to the presence of a very desirable male within the confines of her feminine fortress, plus the image of that same male during her self relieving for the first time since pre-Gordon days, deeply disturbed her. This all pointed to a strange anomaly in Nancy’s personality. Whilst she had great insight into other people’s needs and desires, and compassion for them in their woes, she had little understanding of herself and no consideration for her own young female needs. She had lost herself in the running of her highly successful establishment and for five years had shut out large areas of her inner self. Yet like a boiler with its safety valve jammed, something had to give. In the struggle to prevent the threatening explosion Nancy laid the blame at the door of Mr. Charles, and to be fair, as she saw it, her rash employment of him. With this in mind and her resolve of the night just past still firm, she finished her shower, dressed, and went in search of the wolf she had let loose among her flock. She came upon him in the tutorial room and went to tackle him head on with her request for his immediate departure. The tackle about to take place, Charles looked up from a book he was contemplating and smiled. “Good morning,” he said, his quiet baritone sending a little thrill racing through Nancy. She opened her mouth to declare her sentence upon him, and in that moment looked into his gentle brown eyes. Her legs felt weak, hardly able to support her. She groped with her hand for a chair and plumped down into it. She attempted once more to pronounce his doom, and again she was undone before the words were out. “Can I help you, Nancy?” he enquired. “You look a little pale.” “N...n…no,” croaked Nancy. “I’ve just had a bit of a restless night.” “Something bothering you?” “Yes…no…must have been something I ate.” She made yet another effort to speak her piece, but at that moment the injustice of her intended pronouncement struck her. He had done nothing by word or deed to warrant her dismissal; his behaviour with the girls and her self had been exemplary, even when the young ladies fawned all over him. Unable say what she had intended Nancy managed to rise and flee room. At that moment the girls who were to attend the tutorial were coming down the corridor and she found herself swept back into the room. Making a mighty effort to gather her strength and scattered wits Nancy sat down. It had been her habit to sit slightly in the background, but for some reason found herself seated beside Mr. Charles. The tutorial that morning was covering the reign of the Tudor monarchs and specifically the relationship between Henry the Eighth and Anne Boleyn. The bold Alicia sat beside Nancy and whispered to her, “He make it seem so real, doesn’t he, just as if you were actually there.” “Certainly,” Nancy thought, “He does make you feel the pulsating lust of Henry for Anne.” Nancy felt that throbbing sensation in her clitoris and the vaginal wetness she had experienced the night before. She found herself seeking to touch Charles’ arm and even laid her soft little hand on his hand briefly. During the afternoon ramble Nancy made sure she walked close to Charles. At one point she stumbled and took hold of his arm to steady her self, and then retained her hold. Normally quite capable of negotiating stiles and other obstacles, she suddenly found herself in need of Charles’ assistance. Needless to say, in all this Charles behaved like the gentleman he was and did not seek to extend the physical contact beyond that apparently required by Nancy. For Nancy this was only the beginning of woes. Let me not prevaricate and instead speak plainly. The throbbing clitoris, wet vagina and firm nipples now became part of her daily lot. She – forgive my unadorned language – masturbated ever more frequently. She lost her appetite and could not sleep at night; she lost her concentration, became forgetful and was given to bouts of weeping. Pale and listless she took ever more frequently to her bed until one morning she failed to rise at her normal time of six thirty. She did not appear for the rest of the day and her staff and the girls, who had watched her decline with deep anxiety, prevailed upon the Misses Edith and Angel to enter Nancy’s bedroom to discover her condition. A discreet tap on the door producing no response, the Misses cautiously opened the door and peered round it. The sight that met their eyes startled them. Nancy was lying upon her bed, her modest night gown pulled above her waist, hand touching her genitals, and seeming to stare up at the ceiling with unseeing eyes. Alarmed the Misses sought to cover the exposed Nancy, all the time crying out their concern for their beloved employer, only to be told to leave because, “I want to die.” Failing to get any further communication from Nancy the Misses retreated to call a conference of staff and guests, at which Dove announced that calves foot jelly and beef tea where the obvious cures for whatever ailed Nancy. Dove’s curatives being applied, the fragile Nancy refused to ingest even these delicacies; further announcing her wish to depart this life. Further conferring ensued and it was finally agreed that two steps should be taken. First, they should call in the lady doctor who was the regular medical advisor to Nancy’s Place. Second, the chaplain should call the residents together and then pray for Nancy’s speedy recovery. The lady doctor was brought in haste to Nancy’s bedside where with stethoscope, tapping things and questions like, “Does it hurt there,” she made a thorough examination of Nancy. Now, it chanced that this lady doctor was sagacious beyond the average. She was herself still young and only recently married, and speedily saw what ailed Nancy. “My dear, you are suffering from Cupid Deprivatio,” she pronounced. Always the caring one Nancy’s first thought was for her charges. “Oh,” she feebly wailed, “Is it catching?” “I hope so,” thought the doctor, “or the human race is doomed to extinction.” Aloud she gave a more compassionate reply; “I don’t think you need worry on that score, my dear.” “Is it terminal?” quavered Nancy. “I have heard it said that it can bring about the sufferers demise, but this seems to be related to a death wish by the afflicted one.” “Is there some medicament I can take, some purgative that will cure me?” “There is indeed an antidote, my dear, but I shall need to take further consultation to see if such a remedy is readily available. Just try to relax and I will see what can be done.” The doctor departed leaving the suffering Nancy to contemplate release from her earthly misery. Once more, this time at the command of the doctor, the community gathered. Views were exchanged and a conclusion reached based upon what everybody except Nancy had known for some time. I should point out that Charles had been excluded from these meetings because it was not deemed proper for a male, other than the chaplain, to be present at discussions involving women’s business. It was therefore a surprise when he was called upon by the Misses Edith and Angel to accompany them to the place of distress. It is true that he had been allowed, when properly supervised, to put his head round the door and enquire after Nancy’s health. This, however, had been stopped when it was noticed that on the withdrawal of his head Nancy went into paroxysms of weeping. Now the puzzled Charles was not only brought to the door of Nancy’s bedroom, but was escorted right into the room and up to the bed. “Look whose come to see you,” chirruped Miss Edith. “He’s going to help you,” trilled Miss Angel. With that the Misses departed, leaving a bewildered Charles standing beside the bed. Nancy’s weary eyes turned upon Charles. “How good of you to come and see me,” she said in a tremulous voice, “Won’t you sit down?” Charles looked for a chair, but could see none. Nancy feebly patted the edge of the bed, indicating he should sit there. Charles obediently sat, and in that moment a transformation took place in Nancy’s eyes. From the world weary unseeing gaze, they suddenly seemed to take fire. Perhaps this could be described as a moment of enlightenment, a “Eureka” experience. The jammed valve boiler had reached its limits. Its seams were beginning to give way. Some explanation is necessary at this point, since the reader might be alarmed at the sudden apparent change in Nancy’s normal mode of expression. During the course of the alterations to the manor Nancy had often wandered round the place, seeing that all was being carried out according to her instructions. During these wanderings she often chanced to hear the building workers communicating with each other. She became fascinated by the hitherto unknown to her vocabulary that these lusty men employed. She even went to the extent of researching some of the words they used and felt that they did add colour to the verbal exchanges taking place. Not that she employed them herself, always guarding her speech and using only ladylike expressions. For good or ill, being in extremis, the boiler near to blowing, her guard came down. She raised a fragile arm and pointed an accusing finger at Charles. “You bloody shit you’ve done this to me.” “I…I…me…what…” gasped the shocked Charles, unable to formulate a sentence. “Yes, you, you evil bastard.” “How…when?” Nancy gathered all her remaining strength and flung back the bed clothes, then dragged up her night gown to expose her female parts. “For God’s sake you beast, you rotten animal, fuck me and get it over with.” It should be understood that Charles, surrounded as he had been for several weeks, by all the temptations of attractive female flesh, had only had secret eyes for Nancy. Fearful of being dismissed her service should he in any way declare his feelings for her; he had remained silent and, like Nancy, had done his own agonising in the night. Now the sight of her sweet but fragile body had him undone in trice. He began to undo the buttons that would release his manhood from captivity, but Nancy intruded. “Get your bloody clothes off and fuck me properly,” she commanded. With that she made a supreme effort and drew off her night gown completely. Charles, naked, his towering manhood plain to see, wasted no further time. He dropped between Nancy’s legs and lunged into her. Within seconds the shuddering boiler that was Nancy finally exploded. All apparent weakness gone she thrust with her hips as violent convulsions racked her lovely body. She cried out, “I hate you, you bastard, I love you…harder…harder…stop buggering around and get in deeper.” Charles did his best to comply and as his testes began their task of releasing his seed, he yelled out, “I love you, you bitch.” There was much thrashing around as Nancy’s little fists hammered against Charles in her wild orgasmic fury. Charles in turn bit her neck and squeezed her nipples. The weeping sobbing Nancy and the gasping Charles descended from the heights pouring out oaths of love and fidelity to each other. This was just as well because one among those myriad of spermatozoa that Charles had deposited into Nancy’s vagina, and unbeknown to the still united and love proclaiming couple, was bravely making its way through Nancy’s female mysteries, to begin the process of creation in her. Flushed of face, all pallor gone, Nancy said, “I’m starving.” The dutiful Charles disengaged his penis from Nancy’s vagina, and hastily covering his nakedness, raced to the kitchen. Upon making his request for victuals for Nancy, with a knowing grin and wicked wink Dove asked, “Feeling a lot better is she?” Charles, covered in confusion said, “Oh…er…yes…a remarkable recovery.” Provided by Dove with half a cold chicken, a potato salad and a bottle of Doves’ excellent red wine, Charles raced through a gauntlet of giggling females, all enquiring after Nancy’s well being, and re-entered his beloved’s room. Nancy seized upon the food and devoured it like a hungry cat, while Charles kept up the flow of nourishing wine. Finishing the last crumb of food and wiping her mouth delicately on the bed sheet, Nancy lay back and indicating her female organ said to Charles in more ladylike tones than previously, “Do it to me again.” “What?” “For God’s sake Charles, f… be intimate with me.” Charles, ever the bishop’s son, and given the mores of the time asked, “Dear heart, do you think we should, we’re not married.” “What’s the matter with you Charles, are you telling me you can’t manage it again?” The answer would have been obvious to Nancy if she had taken the trouble to observe Charles extended manhood. None the less to placate his scruples she said, “Please Charles, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do. The chaplain can marry us later. We’re just doing things a bit back to front.” His moral principles satisfied Charles proceeded to the task of satisfying another aspect of his being, and of course, Nancy’s. For two days Nancy and Charles remained ensconced as the latter sought to put Nancy ever more firmly on the road to recovery. The Misses Edith and Angel, very sensitive to the situation, insisted that all except Dove engage in prolonged rambles, thus enabling the couple to attend to showers and other necessities unobserved. Dove had to remain because Nancy, and increasingly Charles, was in need of regular sustenance. In the early hours of the third morning Charles might have been seen making his way to the coach house. Nancy emerged some time later seemingly in rude health and ready for action. Nancy's Place During the morning tutorial it was noticed that Nancy sat very close to Charles, and they tended to address each other as, “Dear heart,” and “My love.” The chaplain was apprised of the necessity to bring on a speedy marriage service which, within the limits of bureaucratic demands, was duly carried out. All might have gone well except that another cloud appeared on the horizon of their bliss. Charles was notified that he had gained the position in the distant university. What to do? Such was his devotion to Nancy that he offered to forgo the position and stay with her at the manor. But the wily Nancy thought otherwise. Given the goings on between her and Charles, she realised that stories would soon begin to circulate. Parents might feel that they could no longer entrust their daughters into her safe keeping, and so, said Nancy to Charles, “Let’s get out while the goings good.” Accordingly the business was sold at a handsome profit to a stalwart lady of middle years who had recently occupied the position of superintendent to a women’s prison. Nancy and Charles departed for the Great Southland and there bred happily ever after. Thus ends my account of how Nancy found love and except for a few loose ends that is all I need to write. Appendix 1. For those interested in what happened to the Manor House; after Nancy left its fortunes tended to decline. During the years 1939 to 1945 its intake of guests descended to almost nothing. After 1945, and with the ever rapid fall of the Old Empire, little further need for its services remained. It was sold in 1952 and converted into a hotel that had its own speciality. Highest occupancy took place at weekends, and a glance at the hotel register would tell you that a remarkable number of “Smiths” made use of the place. With the development of air travel and much overseas coming and going, the Manor/Hotel gradually lost business, and in 1982 it was “accidentally” burnt down. Strangely, to the very end, it was always called, “Nancy’s Place.” Appendix 2. Nancy and Charles thrived in their new country and by 1939 had added four children to the countries per capita. In 1939 the Great Southland, in support of the “Old Country,” went to war. Charles joined the army and sustained a wound in his leg during the North African Desert fighting. He was returned home to thereafter walk with a limp. He and Nancy produced two more children. Charles died in 1989 aged eighty apparently due to over exertion while copulating with Nancy. Nancy lingered on for another fourteenth months, but bereft of her beloved Charles she finally left this life to join him, and possibly Gordon, in some place of eternal coition.