Secrets of Cheatem Manor

By Don Julian Winslow

The world doesn’t know her secret; the Lady of Cheatem Manor, the beautiful Lady Amanda Longleigh, is driven by an insatiable lust for sex – her kind of sex. She rules in Baronial splendor, and to all the world appears to be the model of a respectable aristocrat. Little do they know of her closely guarded private life, where behind the walls of the manor, she allows herself to indulge in the most unspeakable perversions. Her rather peculiar views on the place of men dominate life at the remote estate, allowing her to indulge quite freely in the most unspeakable behavior, that is until the day her wild excesses are reined in and she’s forced to come to heel under the firm hand of an ex-army major – a proud man who arrives to claim his rightful inheritance. From renowned erotica author, Don Julian Winslow.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pink Flamingo Media LLC
• Release date: May 12, 2017
• ISBN: 9781945648274

Book preview

Secrets of Cheatem Manor

by Don Julian Winslow

ISBN: 978-1-945648-27-4

Copyright ©2017 Don Julian Winslow

Smashwords Edition

Chapter One

To the Manor

For many years I have resisted the urge to set down the story of my adventures at Cheatem Manor during that unforgettable summer so long ago. But now that I’m in the twilight of my years, the time seems ripe to pen this account of the happenings at that remote country estate where a strange world had been brought into being; an unnatural world, dominated by strong-willed females whose unholy reign of terror ran unchecked by the steadying balance of a strong male hand. It was a world of sexual perversion, and licentious decadence -- artificially created and totally hidden, completely cut off from the unsuspecting eyes of the God-fearing folk of Claymoor County.

I happened upon the secret of Cheatem because of a promise I made to my cousin Rupert regarding his young son, a likable good-looking boy named Edward. One night, when we were both in our cups, and old Rupert seemed to be acutely feeling his own mortality, he made me promise to look after the lad should anything happen to him. As it transpired, I was with my regiment in India when Rupert finally passed away.

To my surprise, I was notified that I had been named heir of his country estate, Cheatem. I say surprised because I had assumed it would pass to his half-sister, a certain Lady Amanda Longleigh, a widower who lived with her wards, a couple of young sisters, at the Cheatem estate for a number of years, managing the estate for its absentee landlord, as Rupert seldom ventured out of the City. What I didn’t know was that Rupert and Lady Amanda had had a falling out several years ago, and the old man had changed his will so that upon his death Cheatem would become mine. As I found Army life quite congenial, and had no plans to retire, I wrote to ask Lady Longleigh to stay on at the same terms; she graciously accepted, agreeing to manage the affairs of the estate for me, much as she had for Rupert.

At that time there was a spot of trouble brewing at the Afghan frontier and all leaves had been cancelled, so that I could not travel back to England for the reading of the will. It was only later found out about the fate of young Edward. It seems that upon Rupert’s death, the lad had not quite yet reached his legal majority and so a local judge decreed him to be a temporary ward of Rupert’s half-sister, Lady Amanda Longleigh.

Cheatem stood as a mighty fortress at a time when ruthless Barons struggled insatiably for land and power, and it still has an air of being impregnable to frontal assault. Unfortunately, as with so many of the old values Cheatem came to signify for me, its virtues had been undermined; I only found out by chance that that which could never be taken from without had been gradually reduced and weakened from within.

The first Lord of Cheatem was a totally disreputable rogue who fought, at various times, both for and against, his King. He greedily took what he could, roaring through the countryside in a bloody campaign of rape and pillage and mayhem, that ended with him establishing himself as lord of all he surveyed, and then going on to reign in the splendid isolation of Cheatem castle.

Over the years the castle has been much modified, gentrified to take on a more refined, civilized look, albeit one that retained something of the sinister atmosphere of the original fortress. Today the imposing manor house still dominates the hill where the mighty Baron decreed his castle should be built. The earthworks and moat are long gone, replaced by gently rolling lawns that sweep down and away from the House, trailing off into woods that thicken so as to become almost impenetrable. The entrance to the single access road is well hidden, so that even today the place discourages visitors.

At the time of our story Lady Amanda was undisputed mistress of Cheatem where she resided with two pretty wards, the young ladies Catherine and Prudence. The household staff had been greatly reduced over the years but there was a still a maid, a perky young thing named Sarah, as well as a family of trusted retainers who lived on the grounds: Ned Glunt, the groundskeeper, his wife Maud, who served as cook, and their son William, a somewhat inept, if willing, handyman.

It was into this little closed community that young Edward found himself abruptly transplanted. His memories of his aunt Amanda were vague. In his mind’s eye, he remembered looking up at a tall, imposing woman who loomed over him, her long black hair piled high on her head. But those fragments of memory stemmed solely from a few visits they made when he was very young, not yet old enough to attend school. They had been miserable times; he had been teased and tormented by his wicked cousins once the children were well away from the supervising eyes of the adults.

He still remembered vividly the day the girls had taken him to a secret hiding place in the woods. There they introduced him to a game they played called hospital. He would be the sick patient, and they would be nurses come to examine him. He remembered thrashing on the ground while one of the girls sat on his chest and the other yanked his trousers down his flailing legs. And he remembered how they laughed at him as he broke free, running and stumbling through the woods, desperately trying to hitch up his displaced pants with trembling fingers as he ran.

He never learned the purpose of those childhood visits, but in any case they ended abruptly when there had been a terrible row between his father and his aunt, the result being that his father vowed never again to set foot on the estate.

At the reading of the will, and later at his custody trial, his aunt had been represented by her solicitor, so Edward had not actually seen her for many years. He was frankly a bit mystified as to why this distant relative should take such a sudden interest in him, insisting that she be named as his guardian for the year or so he had remaining until he would come into his own, with full control of his rightful inheritance.

But Edward was an obliging lad by nature, and he rather looked forward to what might well become a pleasant leisurely holiday in the country. Then too, he was curious about Lady Amanda’s girls. They would be quite grown up by now, no longer spiteful brats, they would have matured into young women only a year or two older than he; lonely girls with healthy urges, he dared to hope, and no one but each other and their dour guardian for companionship during the long summer in that big house. They might readily welcome a handsome dashing male, for thus the lad thought of himself at that age. He reached up to touch his fledgling mustache, wondering if the girls were still as adept at slipping away from under their guardian’s watchful eye. Suddenly it seemed to the randy young man with all his youthful optimism, that the world was alive with possibilities.

These thoughts went through his head as Edward gazed out the window of the Rolls, barely noticing the lush green countryside. They rode in silence: his chauffeur, who respectfully introduced himself as Ned, was a sturdily built man of few words, but Edward noticed that he smiled knowingly, nodding to himself when Edward mentioned that he was quite looking forward to his stay at Cheatem, and hoped it would not be too dull.

The stately sedan made its way up a long serpentine gravel path, barely wide enough to accommodate the big car. As it rounded the final bend, Edward had his first good look at the massive Manor House; an impressive pile of gray stones with a vaguely forbidding look reminiscent of those stalwart Norman conquerors whose castles once dominated the lands.

As he stepped out of the Rolls, the lad glanced upward to catch a glimpse of a blond face in an upstairs window, a girl, he was pretty sure, who had been watching as they drove up, but fleetingly vanished when he turned his face up to study her. There was a spring in his step, a certain jauntiness about his slender figure as young Edward bounded up the curving stone steps.

Ned plodded along, leading him down the long thickly carpeted hallway, showing him the way to the drawing room. The room Edward found himself in was spacious and high ceilinged, furnished in an old-fashioned style that still retained a certain grandeur; a room lavishly decorated with potted palms and opulent, overstuffed furniture -- a room in which Queen Victoria would have felt quite comfortable. He waited ensconced in a big old wingback chair which smelt of polish and old leather, idly studying the intricate pattern of the fine Oriental rug. In a few moments the door opened and a statuesque dark-haired woman glided into the room.

In Edward’s memory she remained what she had been when he was a mere lad: a stern woman, matronly, and terribly old; but now he realized, with something of a shock, that his aunt was in fact an attractive mature woman, probably in her forties. She still had the same long black hair, soft and shiny, piled up in a neat chignon. And she was tall; in her high heels almost as tall as the gangly youth who scrambled to his feet to stand awkwardly before her. Her well-endowed figure was clearly evident through the simple black dress she wore, high-collared and buttoned up primly, giving her the air of a headmistress at a very proper school.

Now Lady Amanda extended an elegant hand, and for a moment the absurd notion flitted through his mind that she might expect him to kiss it. But he merely took the proffered hand in his, holding it lightly in a gesture that never quite became a handshake. For a moment, she held his eyes with her own, icy blue eyes that studied him with an intensity that caused him to blush hotly. Then, as the hand gradually withdrew, her expression softened and she welcomed him, politely if a bit formally.

For a moment longer she let him fidget uncomfortably under her appraising gaze while she took her time, looking him up and down. Then, apparently satisfied with what she saw, she nodded her approval, dryly declaring him a ‘fine young man’, before finally allowing him to sink back into his chair.

His aunt rang for a servant and took a seat directly across from him. Settling in comfortably, she asked him to tell her all about himself. Edward, never reluctant to discourse on what was probably his favorite subject, and especially so when his audience was a receptive female, told her all about his fascinating young life. His aunt listened attentively, regarding him with interest, her handsome face set in a polite smile. She interrupted only rarely, and then to encourage him to elaborate.

And as the young man rambled on she moved smoothly, casually crossing her long legs, allowing her dress to ride up over the rounded prominence of her bent knee. The fabric slid down either side in two draping folds, revealing the exquisite shape of that attractive feminine leg encased in a sheer black stocking. The Lady seemed totally unaware that the folds of her skirt had dipped down in such a way as to invite a salacious view of the very top of a stocking and just a sliver of the white flesh beyond. Edward tried to keep his eyes on her face as he chatted away but he found them inevitably drawn back to the seductive contours of that dangling leg, his gaze held by the narrow foot that swung idly in its black pump.

She listened attentively; her eyes studying his face. And her eyes never left his face when, after a few minutes, she shifted in her chair and slowly uncrossed her legs, this time letting her knees fall apart just a little. The movement left the skirt stranded high up on her nyloned legs and gave the young man a fortuitous view straight up between the woman’s opened thighs. Edward