3. The Girl (4)
“Emily.”
She was scrubbing the rags her mother had handed her at the laundry, and Sarah the head maid said something, but it was drowned out by the sloshing water. Emily fished a rag out of the dirty water. No matter how many times she washed it, it never got perfectly white, but since it was for mopping floors, it didn't need to be spotless. She twisted each soaked rag one by one to wring out the water when Sarah's voice came right from beside her this time.
“Emily?”
Was she calling me? Emily looked up. Sarah, plump and past middle age, smiled kindly.
“The madam is asking for you. Fix your clothes neatly and come along.”
Emily rinsed her hands in clean water, stood, and roughly smoothed the wrinkles from her shirt and pants. She ran her damp hands through her short hair, and Sarah nodded for her to follow with her chin.
They took the back stairs reserved for the staff, heading to the familiar second floor. The overseer's residence had reception rooms, the entrance hall, study, banquet hall, and dining room on the first floor, while the second held guest rooms, VIP chambers, meeting rooms, and offices. Beyond that, a massive door blocked the middle of the corridor. Inside lay the living quarters for the overseer's family.
Sarah led Emily through the door into the corridor. Marie handled the guest and work areas on the second floor excluding the private spaces, so this was Emily's first time in the real living area of the nobles beyond the door. A red carpet stretched down the hall, with antique lamps hung on the walls. A bit further, around the corner, stood two large doors side by side. Sarah knocked on the one on the right.
“Madam, I've brought Emily.”
A small bell tinkled from inside, and Sarah gave Emily a look. Entering the room, the first thing that caught her eye was the ornate, towering canopy bed. Sheer lace curtains draped from its side, and the high canopy on pillars was more luxurious than any bed Emily had ever seen. Beside the canopy bed in the center of the room sat a long sofa, with fruit, cookies, and a teacup on the table.
On the sofa was a middle-aged lady who seemed to be the madam, and next to her, sipping tea, a familiar face with light brown hair elegantly curled: Olivier.
Olivier looked pale and wan; the glow in her cheeks from days ago had faded to gaunt sharpness.
“So, you're Marie's daughter, the one handling the second-floor guest rooms? You move around just like a boy.”
The brown-haired middle-aged lady eyed Emily up and down. Then she turned to Olivier.
“Are you sure? This is the girl who helped you?”
Olivier averted her gaze and nodded low.
“Now that I look, you don't resemble your mother at all. But dressed up like a proper girl, you'd have a decent face. Your name is...?”
Emily quickly answered the madam, who trailed off.
“Emily, ma'am.”
“Hmm. And your father works at the Scren Mine here?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
The madam picked up a few cookies from the table and offered them to Emily. Emily accepted them politely.
“I am Eleanor Ikrit Belparos, Baroness Belparos. Our Belparos family is an old baronial house in Templton, passed down through generations. That's why, when hiring maids, we only take those with recommendations from noble houses or with thoroughly verified backgrounds guaranteed by those around them. But as you see, this western continent lacks resources. Around Shiras, there aren't even proper families for socializing. Being so remote, it's only natural, perhaps.”
Eleanor finished, raising an eyebrow as if probing Emily's intentions.
“I heard you helped Olivier last time. At first, I thought you were a boy just from your looks, but Sarah said you're a girl. You came to help your mother?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
Emily answered politely.
“Good. Your posture is respectful.”
Eleanor eyed her up and down once more, then gestured dismissively to Sarah. Sarah curtsied with one knee bent and nodded at Emily. Emily awkwardly mimicked the motion and followed Sarah out of the room.
As they retraced their steps down the stairs from the baroness's room, Sarah patted Emily's shoulder.
“Your mother must be so proud.”
“Pardon?”
Emily blinked in confusion, and Sarah smiled warmly.
Back at the laundry, she wrung out the remaining rags hard. The squeezed ones needed to be hung out in the sun to dry fully. As Emily carried the basket outside, her mother waved from across the yard.
“Mom has some work today and will be late. Go home first. Dad will be back soon—you need to set dinner for him.”
The sun was dipping low over the backyard where she hung the laundry, so Emily nodded. It was about time for Dad to return.
“I'll head out soon. Got it? Warm up what's in the pot, and the bread's in the basket—take it out.”
Emily watched her mother's busy retreating figure, then looked up at the sky. She had to finish hanging the rags and hurry straight home or she'd be short on time. Mining work was grueling; Dad ate dinner right away upon arriving. Heating the pot took a bit, so she needed to rush.
Leaving the overseer's residence, she headed down the village main street. A group of miners appeared in the distance. Even rushing, she was a little late. Emily hurried home with quick steps.
In the kitchen, she added cream to the thin soup in the pot, poured in water, and stirred. As the fire blazed high, the soup bubbled vigorously. She cleared the rough wooden table. After tidying roughly, she stirred the soup again. To keep it from scorching, she had to stir often. Once it thickened bubbling away, she took it off the heat. Dad should have been home by now.
Emily anxiously opened the kitchen door and stepped into the backyard. Heading quickly toward the front yard, a black shadow suddenly lunged from behind, snatching her waist.
“Mmph... mmph!”
Emily tried to scream in shock, but a rough, callused hand clamped over her mouth. Bound at the waist and mouth, she was dragged behind the kitchen door in the backyard, to the shadowy spot by the shed.
“Emily.”
A repulsive low voice whispered hotly against her earlobe, sucking at it roughly. It was Mark. Soon, a wet tongue probed inside her ear canal. Chills ran through her.
“Mmmph!”
Her mouth sealed tight, her cries didn't escape Mark's huge hand. He yanked her waist toward him. Feeling the hard, grotesque bulge near her buttocks, Emily's body stiffened. Mark sucked hard at her ear and lobe from behind, licking his tongue down to her nape.
Her body trembled with terror and disgust.
“Already feeling it? You slutty little thing.”
Mark chuckled low in satisfaction. Burying his nose in her slender nape, he loosened the arm around her waist to grope her small buttocks, then gripped one hard. Emily flinched in pain, and he licked long down her nape.
“Haa...”
His excited, deep exhale brushed her sensitive skin, raising goosebumps everywhere. Emily struggled. But Mark sneered, slamming her down onto the dirt in front of the kitchen door.
“Mmph, mmph, mmph...!”
Still gagged by his massive hand, all her sounds buzzed muffled in his palm. She tried to bite his hand but couldn't open her mouth wide enough under the pressure. As he rummaged under her clothes, the coarse, cold dirt touched her bare skin. Her pants were already down to her knees.
Someone! Dad! Emily's eyes desperately turned toward the yard on the right, and Mark laughed low.
“Chris is probably grabbed by Gary at the tavern right now. I slipped him some coin to loosen up—mining's tough every day. You have no idea how my heart raced spotting you from afar, my sweet Emily.”
His thick fingers delved between her thighs, brushing her sensitive pink flesh with stabbing pain each time. Emily twisted her waist. Mark's rough fingers rubbed her sensitive nub.
Ah, it hurts! She grimaced and writhed, and Mark looked surprised.
“Feels good, huh? Want me to make it better?”
He slipped his free hand behind her waist, pulling her close, then draped her thin white legs over his shoulders. Her head pressed into the dirt, mouth still covered, as he leaned in upside-down toward her inner thigh, extending a long tongue.
Slippery, foreign wetness touched her sensitive nub, and Emily twisted wildly.
“Mmm...”
Mark closed his eyes, moaning low as if savoring. He licked his lips wet with saliva, then teased the shyly protruding pink bud before sucking it deep. Emily stiffened rigidly at the unfamiliar sensation. His tongue delved meticulously into the petal crevices. As he dragged it long over the folds, shame overwhelmed her, and she squeezed her eyes shut. He teased the gland below once more, then pressed his lips to suck.
“Slutty girl. Dripping and loving it.”
Muttering low in satisfaction, Mark lowered the hand supporting her waist. He roughly undid his pants.
“Ah... mmm...”
Gripping his manhood with one hand, stroking it as he groaned, Mark suddenly glared piercingly at Emily.
“I tried to leave you intact, but...”
Emily flashed back to Olivier in the VIP room last time. Her eyes widened in horror.
“I just can't hold back. Heh heh...”
Emily thrashed hard at his burning dark gaze.
“Mmph, mmph!!”
Mark swiftly yanked her legs from his shoulders and mounted her roughly. Her whole body froze as his hard manhood brushed between her thighs, and she kicked wildly.
“Mmmph...!”
That was when it happened.
“Emily! Emily! Is Dad home?”
Marie's loud voice called from the front yard as she returned. Mark rolled his eyes toward the sound, then tsked. He looked down darkly at Emily.
“If you breathe a word of this... you know? I'll tell your mom and dad how much you love having your little pussy sucked. Got it? Blink if you understand.”
Under his fierce glare, Emily blinked twice.
“...Hah.”
The pressure over her mouth finally released. Mark quickly pulled up and fixed her pants. Standing, he rubbed his hands leisurely over Emily lying in the dirt, glancing around. Spotting a small rock in the corner, he grabbed it roughly and grated its rough side hard against her calf.
“Ah, aaaah!!!”
Emily screamed in agony.
“Emily?”
Marie's voice came from inside.
“Emily? Where are you?”
Mark called out loudly at her second call.
“Hey! Marie. Over here.”
The kitchen door opened.
“Egg money!”
Marie cried out seeing Emily sprawled there, clothes disheveled, bleeding from her calf in the backyard by the kitchen door.
“What on earth... how did this...!”
“Well, I was home when I heard a scream and rushed out to find Emily hurt, didn't know what to do. Looks like she tripped on that rock up front. Not too deep, thank goodness, but she needs treatment inside.”
The rough edge of the small rock pile he pointed to had a bit of blood on it.
“Emily, come on inside. There's still ointment left from when your dad got hurt last time. Tsk tsk...”
As Emily paled and tried to rise, Mark reached out quickly.
“Let me help. Emily, always watch your step.”
She barely stood, clinging to her mother's shoulder as they entered, and Mark glared murderously. Emily quickly turned her head away.
Before closing the kitchen door, Marie called out to Mark.
“Whew, Mark, thank you. How did she...?”
“Kids get hurt in a blink, no matter how grown.”
“Truly lucky you were here. Always in your debt...”
Marie expressed genuine gratitude, and Mark waved it off.
“That's what neighbors are for. Emily's like my own daughter—don't worry from now on. Oh...”
Seeing Marie's puzzled look, Mark grinned.
“Gary's treating—Chris is at the tavern. I'll go fetch him this way. Be right back after treatment.”
“Thank you so much...”
Mark waved dismissively and left the backyard. Marie watched his reliable back for a moment, then helped Emily inside.