Ghost of Bledgemoor Hall

Chapter 2. Bought for a florin

Two weeks passed. Most nights were spent in Gloria's bed and making passionate lesbian love. At the beginning of the week Gloria took her to a clinic in Leeds to get a prescription for contraceptive pills 'just in case one of the builders and electricians took a fancy to her'. Twice she had been spanked but each time it was only a bare hand spanking and nothing like as severe as the first one. Nevertheless it had made her bottom smart, her cunt tingle and her eyes to weep even though she tried to be brave.

Inside the house modernisation was going on apace. At the moment it was the electrician rewiring the whole place and as is the way when electricians are working, every room was a shambles. Floorboards were up; wires hung out of holes in the wall and coils of temporary cables festooned the ceilings. Veronica tried to keep out of the way as much as possible and in doing began exploring some of the outbuildings. One in particular seemed to draw her however much she resisted entering it. "Henry, what is in these buildings?" she asked the gardener.

"Not much of any use Miss. The larger one has some old farm machinery in that hasn't been used for decades and as you knows Miss, I keeps the mower and other garden tools in there. It was used to house the stately carriages when they had such things. Haven't been in the other place for nigh on a year. It was the carriage house before they built the bigger one. I knows there's a rusty Jeep in there the soldiers left at the end of the war and some old furniture that's going rotten. I has the keys if you should want to go in. Had to put new locks on to keep the kids out some time back. Perhaps the missus would like yer to sort it, if yer not afraid of spiders and mice. Much of the stuff could be burned and there's a space over yonder yer could have a bonfire without causing any harm."

"I'll ask her. Sometimes sorting other people's junk can be fun."

"It could make a second garage for guest cars and such like. It's dry enough in there, or it was when I was last in. They built places to last in them there days."

*****

Sweating and a little tired from her exertions Veronica sat on a box. The October day had been warm and bright but now a dark cloud dropped down over the hills and was quickly obscuring the sun. So far she'd cleared a pile of old wooden chairs and a chest of drawers that had suffered the ravages of woodworm and rot and moved an old mangle outside. "Things like that can go in the pit," Henry told her, "They're nearly all metal. When there's enough we'll put them on the trailer and I'll cart them off to the dump."

All afternoon Veronica had a strong feeling she was being watched. Frequently she looked over her shoulder but saw no one. It was just an eerie feeling. As she moved the old furniture her mind kept trying to visualise how the place must have looked when it was new and who had sat on the chairs or used the chest of drawers or what had been stored in them. The place seemed very creepy. Full of ghostly reminders of a past era. It made the hair on the back of her neck rise but she couldn't find any real reason for it. Now as she sat in the gloom, the darkness only partially pierced by a single incandescent bulb. With the light from the window and doorway now blotted out by the heavy cloud, Veronica felt the presence more strongly than ever. "Come on Veronica, let me out. I know my thoughts are reaching you. I've been here far too long." Slowly Veronica rose, seemingly compelled against her will to open a large box standing in a corner by the back door. Any thoughts she'd had of finding something interesting were immediately dashed. The box contained nothing but decaying musty clothing. Rain splatted down. "I'll have a better look when I can take it outside in the daylight," she thought as she sat down again. "I can't do much in here without better light and I'll have to wait until the rain stops before I can get back in the house. Maybe one of the electricians will let me borrow one of their quartz halogen floodlights another day. No where to plug it in though so that's no good. It's spooky in here now with the weird shadows cast by that apology for a light. And the way the wind is swinging the bulb and making the shadows move is… Ughh!"

A movement of the rags startled her before she had time to sit down again. Something was pushing them upwards. The clothing rustled and a small cloud of dust arose. "Some sort of beast is in there," Veronica thought, "I better get out of the way." She turned and started for the door but a soft voice called out to her. Startled Veronica stopped and then realised the voice had not been an audible sound, it was within her head!

"Don't be afraid Veronica, Don't run away. I will not harm you. Sit still for a few moments until I can uncurl myself and get out." Veronica shook her head to try and clear it of these thoughts. Frightened but also intrigued she watched as the head of a young girl appeared, then the arms and body. Moments later the girl-like creature jumped to the floor. The form and movements were those of a young woman but one who had aged prematurely. She wore a rather tatty dress but what hit Veronica's senses was the pale luminous translucency of the figure, emphasised all the more by the darkness of the situation.

"You're... a ... ghost," she stuttered, "You can't be ... I don't believe..."

"Thanks. That's better," the figure said, "First time I've been able to uncurl myself in two hundred and twenty five years. My spirit's been about but I never could get anyone to open the box before. I'm Rebecca Morton, Becky as everyone used to call me." Again the words never came out as sounds for Veronica to hear but nevertheless she heard them clearly in her mind.

Still not believing what she could see, Veronica again mumbled something about ghosts and for some minutes she continued to stare with disbelief and not a little fear at the apparition. "There's no need to be afraid, Veronica, I am not here to harm you. Please be friends." The friendly, bubbly lilt in the voice gave Veronica the impression the girl was very young, perhaps even younger than herself. It didn't equate with the emancipated form she could see or with the haggard, lined and care worn face. Reading her mind, Becky went on, "Yes, I know how I look but I was only seventeen when I died. My last few days were not very pleasant." That was a typical English gross understatement.

As her fear slowly ebbed Veronica remembered her manners, "As you seem to know Becky, I'm Veronica Markham and I'm pleased to meet you. My school friends used to call me Ronnie, perhaps you would like to as well." Subconsciously she put out her hand.

"No, I won't touch you for the time being Ronnie. Not until you know what might happen if I do. Let's talk first. I've a feeling that we have something in common with each other, something more than being servants in this house which is why my spirit could get you to suggest clearing this old carriage house and to open the box."

"How did you get in that box Becky?"

"That's the end of a long story and the start of my life as a wandering spirit or ghost if you prefer to call me. You see I wasn't actually dead when they put me in and hidden under all those clothes the spirit collectors didn't find me and take me to their world."

"You mean they shut you in that box alive!" Veronica was horrified.

"Well I was as near to death as could be. I was frozen and wet and to them I appeared dead."

"But why didn't they bury you properly?"

"I said it was a long story spread over about three years." Becky paused. "Do you want to hear it Ronnie or would you like to live it?"

"What do you mean 'live it'?"

"If I put my arms around you, I can absorb your body into my spirit and take you back to my time and you can experience the things I did and saw in exactly the way I did. Your body will feel things just as I felt them. The pleasures and the pain."

"You mean you can...? Take me back in time and relive your life? See the things you saw? That's not possible.

"It's not really taking you back in time although it may feel like it. I've never done it before but I gather it's more like that machine you call a video recorder I've seen you watch. I can go back though my life like it was a film and I should be able to take you as well. You'll believe it when you do it.

"I don't know Becky. What if I don't come back?"

"My spirit mentor said I could separate from you at any time I wanted or remain in your time and we can travel back and forth at will, or at least my will. Strong outside influences could force me to release you but to be honest I have not done it yet. That's why I suggested we should just talk for now until you get to know me. I probably know more about you. I've seen what you and Gloria do."

"Even when we...?" Veronica was shocked at thought of what an invisible spirit like Becky might have seen.

"Everything, Ronnie. Like last night when you were alone in bed with Gloria. She'd just smacked your bottom and then turned you over and nipped your clit with her teeth until you screamed and then she bit it again for screaming."

"Oh my God. I remarked several times how I felt I was being watched but now I know. It's so embarrassing." Even in the semi darkness, Veronica could feel herself blushing. Vaguely she heard the hypnotic sound of rain still drubbing on the window. The wind still swung the lone bulb on its cable casting moving shadows. "It can't be real," Veronica thought, "This has to be a dream. No it cannot be a dream; it's too real. I can hear the wind and rain, smell the atmosphere and the dusty clothes of this girl." Becky voice cut into her mind again.

"Yes, it is real Ronnie. You have to believe it for now. Soon you'll know for certain. I too had a proper body. An attractive one too but that was long ago. Now you seem to be the only one who can see me and for the first time for ages, I have found someone who can talk back to me. If you let me, I can show you how I was and see how I lived and loved and suffered but let us just talk for a little. I wasn't very well schooled but since being a spirit my mind has been able to move around and I have learned a great deal by sitting in and watching and listening while others learned or discussed things. Unfortunately I couldn't talk to any of them in the same way as I can you. Perhaps we are related in some way or perhaps because we both were forced to come here as servants. We've both found out how servants are punished although the punishments you've had so far are very tame compared to the thrashings servants were given in my time."

"I didn't think Gloria's hairbrush was a very tame punishment," Veronica pouted and then cheered up and asked, "Did you have brothers and sisters Becky?"

"I was the youngest of ten, six boys and four of us girls. By the time I was ten, only three boys had survived and one of my sisters had died. A bull killed my father when I was twelve and soon after the rest of my family left home to go to sea or get work elsewhere. Even with just me to feed, mother had a difficult time of it. I was always hungry and although we collected what wood we could, our home was always cold and damp. I gather from what I overheard when you first came, you are an only child Ronnie."

"Yes, mother didn't want any or couldn't have any more. I think I would have liked a sister. But please go on." Veronica was now much more comfortable with her 'ghost'.

"Mother and I did what jobs we could get but when winter came jobs were difficult and food was scarce and wood was often hidden under a layer of snow even if the weather was good enough to go out. It was a cold frosty February day, I chanced to pass by the hall here on my way home. I was fourteen and developing into a woman. Near the gate I met with a slightly older girl I remembered as being a friend of my next but one sister. She told me one of the maids had left to marry so I might get a job if I asked for it. I protested that I had no experience but was told I would be trained. Little did I realise that the only qualification needed was to be young and a virgin and my training would be to surrender my body to their lecherous demands. Had I known I would never have taken the job. You are lucky in just having a mistress, one person who you are beholden to. I had the master, his sons and a hierarchy of servants, from the butler and the housekeeper downwards. It wasn't all bad though. Certainly I had some good times especially at first, the food was plentiful and the place was warm but the punishments were harsh and at first some of the things I was expected to do I found disgusting. Gradually though I got used to doing them and enjoyed some."

"So they all raped you Becky?"

"Well I suppose you would call it rape these days, then it was expected that servants would submit to their master's wishes. I had no idea that these things went on in the big houses. I knew the masters and mistresses attended church regularly so I thought them honest and God fearing people. How wrong I was. Anyway, Janet, that was the maid's name, seeing me hesitate, put her arm around my shoulder and started back along the drive."

At that point Becky threw her arm around Veronica's shoulders. An involuntary gesture but the effect on Veronica was immediate. The gloomy interior of the carriage shed transformed into the brightness of a frosty moorland day. Ahead of her ran a well kept gravel road, lined with lime trees bereft of leaves. Patches of snow lay on either side with footprints that showed a number of people had passed along that way since the last snowfall. Veronica recognised the drive to the hall. The trees now were much older and some had been felled. The neat drystone wall looked new but otherwise the landscape was much the same as she knew it. Around the curve of the drive she caught a glimpse of the hall. Somewhere in the back of her mind she heard, "Sorry Ronnie, I didn't mean this to happen." From their earlier conversation, Veronica guessed what happened. Her mind was completely absorbed into Becky's. It was like a dream but so much more real. She felt the bitter cold eating through her thin clothing; she heard and saw the crows squawking over some morsel on the drive; she felt the gravel under her feet; she felt a mittened hand pulling at her arm, "Come on Becky." Janet urged the girl along, "It'll be better living here than in that hovel of yours."

The full impact of what was happening began to dawn on Veronica. No longer was she Veronica Markham she was Rebecca Morton. Fear overcame her. Where was her body? Was it still alive? Would she even get back into it? Becky had said she'd never done this before. Some of these fears were stilled by Becky's voice in her mind, "I didn't intend this to happen but now it has you might as well experience it. The first day here wasn't too bad so we'll keep with it until later and then I'll release you back to the shed. Share my life Ronnie. Meet the people who owned this mansion all those years ago." Although the fear still stayed with Veronica, it was infused with the excitement of an adventure with unknown boundaries.

Now they approached the Hall. It looked much newer and even though snow covered most of the gardens, Veronica could tell they were well tended and formally laid out with small box hedges defining geometrical plots. "They're all grass now," Veronica mused. All the paths had been swept and in the distance two men were pilling stuff on a smoky bonfire. "That's just where Henry wants me to burn my rubbish," she remarked to herself.

"This way Becky," Janet cautioned, "We're not supposed to use the main path where we can be seen by the masters or guests. We have to go in the kitchen entrance." Even walking along the short passage from the side door to the kitchen, the warmth hit them. In the kitchen itself the heat was almost more than Becky could withstand. Several maids bustled around and a boy sat in a corner polishing long leather boots. Veronica barely had time to take in how different the kitchen was then before she was taken to a middle-aged sour faced woman. "If you please Mrs. Simmons," Janet spoke to the woman, "I would like to introduce Rebecca Morton who you may like to consider as a maid to replace Henrietta. I know the family and they've all been hard workers."

"She's a bit skinny!" snapped the housekeeper, "I'm not sure the master will want one as thin as that. How old are you girl."

"Fourteen, ma'am," Becky replied wondering what the woman meant by the master not wanting a thin girl. Perhaps they didn't think she would be strong enough to do the work.

"Have you done this sort of work before? Has Janet told you what is involved besides waiting at tables and such?"

"No ma'am, I've never been away from home and I only met Janet at the end of the drive. Mother will be expecting me home soon."

"Have you been rogered by a man Rebecca?"

"Rogered ma'am?"

"Fucked if you want it in your crude terms. Rogered is how we call it in this house. Have you had a man's pego inside your cunnie?" Shocked by the crudity of the question Becky shook her head, no. "Well that at least is in your favour girl," snapped the woman. "Janet take her to the maids room, wash her all over and find her a suitable dress. The master's going out soon and I want him to see her first so no spending time up there gossiping and playing with her. Clean her and bring her down suitably dressed." Becky followed Janet up two flights of stairs to a room with six small beds.

"So this is what this room was used for. I wondered why there was such a large room on this floor," Veronica said to herself as Becky quietly stripped off her clothes and stood in a large metal bowl of cold water. Veronica flinched at the near freezing water but Becky accepted it without a murmur. Janet spent longer washing Becky's budding breasts and between her legs than seemed normal.

She wasn't too worried but decided to ask, "Do you have to keep rubbing me down there, Jan?"

"That's where the master will look, Becky. If you're dirty there I'll catch a hiding. He's not very interested in your ability to serve table only in where he is going to put his pego. That's his prick or cock in our language but you don't say those words in the house."

"He's going to fuck me? Roger me?"

"You'd better believe it. Him and every other man here. If you play your cards right and learn to please him in bed you can do well for yourself. Displease him and you'll end up being thrashed. You'll get to enjoy the rogering most of the time. Now lets see how this dress fits."

Veronica could feel the consternation in Becky's mind. She knew all about sex as did most country girls but had no idea the aristocracy in the big houses indulged in it with the maids. Nor that she would be forced into it. What if she became pregnant?

"Jan? Did Henrietta become pregnant from the master?" she asked as they headed down the stairs once more.

"No. It was the man she married. I think she did it to make him marry her. We all have to use sponges here and Mrs. Simmons is very strict about us putting them in and soaking them regularly. She'll tell you if you decide to stay. I suggest you do. At least here it is warm and the food is plentiful although the money isn't much. Weigh that against a few fucks and a hiding now and again?"

Mrs. Simmons took Becky straight to the master's study, knocked and when ordered went in and curtseyed. "Curtsy girl," she whispered. Becky bobbed down and up. "Sorry Sir," Mrs. Simmons apologised, "We'll train her properly if you decide to take her on. This is Rebecca Sir, Rebecca Morton."

Becky's eyes took in the large desk and the man who now stood behind it. An elegant tall man dressed in riding gear. Late thirties she guessed. "Fourteen you say Mrs. Simmons?" On receiving an affirmative he went on, "Well that's certainly old enough. Bit on the thin side but she's probably not been fed properly. Is that so girl?"

"We don't have money for much food Sir and at this time of year it is difficult to find anything in the hedgerows."

"Well let me see what is under that dress. Unbutton it." Blushing with embarrassment Becky's fingers fumbled at the buttons that ran all the way down the front of the dress. In the end, Mrs. Simmons had to help. Soon though the front of her dress was held wide open. "Titties beginning to form nicely," the master commented at the same time as he squeezed them. "Open your legs wider."

Shocked Becky didn't move. WHACK!! Mrs. Simmons brought her hand down smartly on Becky's bare bottom. Veronica felt the pain too and would have cried out too if she been able. "Oh my God," she said to herself, "This is too bloody realistic. When she gets raped and thrashed I'll feel it too."

"Do as you are told girl if you want this job," Mrs. Simmons hissed. Becky was not sure that she did. However, the thought of having a warm, dry room to sleep in and good food seemed to outweigh the discomfort she was in now. Her stomach grumbled at the thought. She'd only had a little bread and thin mangle soup since yesterday. She opened her legs and allowed the master to feel her sparsely haired cunnie.

"You've not been rogered before girl? No man has put his pego or anything else in there?"

"No Sir, never. Mother wouldn't allow it."

"What about your other holes? Have you had a man in your bottom or mouth?"

Becky was startled by the thought that anyone should think of doing that. Blushing scarlet she shook her head emphatically no.

"Take her on trial Mrs. Simmons if she really wants the job. Do you Rebecca?"

"Yes Sir," Becky replied after a few moments delay.

"You don't seem too sure girl. This is what I will do." He reached into a desk drawer and brought out a florin and offered it to Becky. A silver florin. Becky had rarely seen one, let alone had one in her hand. She was more used to copper coins and not many of them were above a halfpenny, usually she dealt with farthings and half farthings. "Take this to your mother and talk with her. If you decide to take the position here, she can keep the coin but you must return and stay for at least a year. You can of course bring the coin back and not take the job."

"Thank you Sir," Becky stuttered as Mrs. Simmons ushered her from the room and along the passage to the kitchen. Janet again took her to the maids' room to change into her own clothes.

"I'll find you an old coat in the cellar otherwise you might get your death of cold before you get back here," Janet informed her.

"Perhaps I won't be coming back, Jan."

"Oh but you have to. Either you come back here to work or you bring back the money. Don't think of running with it. They'll set the constable on to you and you and your mother will be imprisoned for stealing. That's how I and most of the girls got to work here for the few coppers they pay."

"Very cunning," thought Veronica, "Few girls or their mothers would want to give up the money once they'd had it in their hands."

The cool air of the cellar made itself felt on Becky's flesh however, it was not this that caused Becky's to start back in horror. A loud WHAAP!!, followed by a scream assailed her ears. Janet grabbed Becky's hand and dragged her forward. "That'll be Hilda getting it. She spilled Master Edward's breakfast on him this morning," Janet whispered, "We will have to watch. It's supposed to help to keep us in line. Not often we get to see it in the punishment room." She urged Becky to an open archway. Had not Janet had a tight grip on Becky, she would have bolted at the sight before them. Hilda lay naked, strapped to a sloping wooden bench with her arse higher than her head. It had already received four or five strokes of a wide leather belt. Alongside stood two men, one in butler's uniform held the strap, the other still in his nightshirt with a soiled patch of breakfast remains at its crotch. Janet curtseyed when Edward, for that is who it was, spotted her and motioned Becky should do the same. "Good morning Master Edward," Janet greeted him.

Edward silently indicated they should stand where they could see the punishment and then abruptly asked, "And who pray is this other rag-a-bone wench?"

"This is Rebecca Sir. She's going to be a new maid here."

"Well make sure she watches quietly or Simmons will put the strap across both of your bums as well. She needs to learn how we treat incompetent servants here." Tears were already streaming down Becky's cheeks at the thought that one day she might be strapped down on that bench. Inside her Veronica's emotions were mixed. She was horrified at the way the woman was exposed. Her raised bottom, her splayed legs, her open sex, but she also felt herself becoming wet and wondered what it would really feel like to be fastened down open and available to anything the men might do. "Continue, Simmons," Edward ordered. "Lay it on well. Make the bitch suffer for my discomfort."

"WHAAPP!! WHAAPP!! WHAAPP!! WHAAPP!! WHAAPP!!" Simmons rhythmically laid the strap across the poor woman's buttocks. Each was accompanied by a loud cry and pleading for mercy. Becky felt like running but seemed rooted to the spot. Veronica wished she had a body so she could finger herself. "Why am I getting off on seeing Hilda suffering?" she asked herself. Her thoughts were interrupted.

"That's the full dozen Sir. Do you think it enough?" Simmons asked. Edward didn't answer. Instead he lifted his nightshirt and exposed his fully erect prick to the girls. Janet, who had seen it many times just curtseyed and kissed it with open mouth, Becky who only seen young boys looked aghast at it's size and hardness, shrank back.

Edward gripped her hair. "So we have a shy one here," he said, "You won't he so shy after you've been here a while. Now give the end a little suck same as Janet did." Fearing she might be on the receiving end of the strap Simmons had been wielding, Becky complied. Her encounter with his prick was very brief. Edward withdrew his manhood, turned and thrust it hard into Hilda's unprotected cunt. This brought further cries of anguish from her each time his loins battered her swollen and bruised arse. Edward laughed. He enjoyed knowing know he could fuck a woman when it hurt her, he loved the feel of a hot tender bum against his body. His enjoyment was short lived. After the stimulation of seeing the woman beaten, too soon he released his load within her body.

He pushed his sticky prick towards Becky's face. "Now it's nice and juicy for you to suck."

Again Becky pulled away, disgusted at what she was being asked to do. The sight and smell almost made her retch. "Please Sir, no. Don't make me do that," she pleaded.

"Simmons, put her on top of Hilda. Perhaps she'll like it more when her own juices are added to it," Edward ordered angrily.

"If you please Sir," Janet spoke, "She's a virgin and Master Peter said no one was to touch her holes until he'd finished with them."

Edward knew better than to cross his father. "Dammit! Perhaps she'll like the taste of the belt instead." Becky struggled but was no match for Simmons. In a short space of time she found herself lying lengthwise on top of Hilda. "Pull her dress right up Janet. Let's see these virgin holes and see if her virgin arse has felt the kiss of leather."

Becky flinched as Edward's fingers probed her cunt and squeezed her bottom. "Please Sir, I'm not in your employ yet. Please leave me be."

"Silence girl." Edward swung the strap. It connected with a loud "WHAAPP!!" Becky screamed. So did Veronica. She was amazed how badly it hurt even though she was inside another's body. She felt it just the same as your host. "WHAAPP!!" the strap laid it's fire across Becky's arse. Veronica wondered if she could stand any more and what would happen if she passed out while inside Becky's body. Fortunately she didn't but she had to take six strokes before Edward laid the strap down and again presented his prick to her. This time she took it and sucked as if her life depended on it. The taste was not as unpleasant as she expected. Afterwards she had to wait while Simmons removed his pego from his breeches and took his turn at fucking Hilda. Becky was amazed at the sight of his weapon too. Following in his master's footsteps, Simmons plunged his prick deeply into the helpless maid causing her more pain. It was only when he'd shot his seed into her and Becky had cleaned his prick too, that the woman was released.