"Can you close it up for me?"
It was the middle of the night, but Lucy wasn't tired yet. She laid restless in bed. Scarlett's hoarse voice, still in her mind.
"What are you talking about, Lucy? Stop putting yourself down. You're a very attractive young woman. Your hair is gorgeous, your body looks beautiful too. I wish you could see yourself as I see you."
She sat up in her bed and looked at the large mirror on the other side of her room.
"Even if Margaret has a bigger bosom, that doesn't mean she is more desirable than you. That doesn't mean you don't look just as pretty in this pink dress you don't want to wear because you're afraid you can't shine in it. You can shine, Lucy."
She picked up the candle that burned on her bedside table and walked to the large mirror.
"You know what makes a woman desirable? Confidence."
Lucy placed the candle in front of the mirror, giving her some light to look at herself.
Her hair was still worn up, with thick strands that were braided to the top of her head, so she didn't feel desirable at all, but she just wanted to look at her reflection. Did her maid speak the truth when she said that she was desirable?
Lucy wasn't blind. Scarlett was a desirable woman. Margaret was a desirable woman. But she was just... a plain girl.
Her fingers found their way to her nightgown and she pulled at the string, untying it, beginning to unlace the top till it was opened enough for her to shove it off her shoulders and let the piece of clothing fall to the ground.
She stepped out of it and kicked the nightgown to the side. In front of the mirror stood a fully naked woman now.
The cool air kissed her skin and she slowly began turning around a little, looking at the curves of her body.
Her breasts weren't that big but they stood high, with tiny pink nipples. Her waist was small, the navel in the middle was long and vertical and her hips wide. Her body had the shape of an hourglass.
When Scarlett laughed, she sometimes stuck her tongue between her teeth, just a little, just the tip. Lucy liked that. She smiled at herself in the mirror, mimicking Scarlett's little ways. Her tongue between her teeth. But it seemed to be less attractive to her when she did it.
"What am I doing?" she whispered to herself. But she didn't stop.
Two hands stroked over her collar bones and slowly ran down, over the soft hills that were her breasts. Her nipples reacted to the touch and started to tingle a little, stiffening and swelling like she was cold but she wasn't. Fingertips circled the pink rings and rolled the hard nipples between her fingers. It felt nice.
Her hands slid down, over her soft belly and the dimple that was her navel, over the soft little hair and back up again, back to her breasts.
Suddenly Lucy got an idea. She imagined that Scarlett stood behind her, touching her, caressing her. Her hands were Scarlett's hands now. Exploring, lovingly. Scarlett's hands were so gentle.
There came a feeling.
Down there.
A strange, heavy sort of feeling. Throbbing, tingling. A foreign sensation.
Lucy pulled her hands away. Her breath was fast. Her heartbeat too, she could feel it pounding inside her throat.
When she looked at her face, a rosy color was on her skin. Flushed, hot.
She quickly grabbed the candle and wanted to get back to bed, but the urge to try to touch herself again was too great.
After placing the candle down, her hands picked up where they left off. The throbbing sensation was there again, getting heavier the more her hands plucked, squeezed, stroke, and fumbled at her different body parts. Until she couldn't resist the part that ached so much.
But it's dirty. It's not proper. It's obscene to touch that part... No lady would touch that part! But Lucy did, she did touch. Her hands--no--Scarlett's hands did. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn't stop herself.
Very carefully the fingers brushed over the folds and dimples. She widened her legs a bit and it felt wet and warm down there.
The touches became more firm as she explored more. Heat rushed through her body and coiled low in her stomach when the tip of one finger pressed at the part that was throbbing so much.
"Ahh...!"
She quickly bit her lip. Her face was even redder. Her eyes were dark, they looked weird.
What was she doing? She needed to stop this! But...it felt so good... She had to do it again. Pressing, rubbing, circling there while hips pushed against her hand.
Her legs trembled and her breathing was as fast as if she had run up the hill.
Wetness dripped down her legs. The soft flesh felt harder now and swollen between her legs.
Faster, up and down the fingers rubbed. Until, all of a sudden, she was struck by lightning.
Her mouth open, not even knowing she was drooling on the wooden floor, waves hit her, waves of extreme pleasure. They kept coming whenever the muscles between her legs tightened. It was almost painful and unbearable but felt so good.
When she couldn't take any more, she collapsed on the floor. Panting and gasping. Her heart beating so wildly, Lucy feared it would beat right out of her chest.
What happened right now?
With trembling legs, she stood up, put on her nightgown, picked up the candle, and staggered back to her bed.
But she still couldn't sleep. Instead, she cried. What did she just do? Something so sinful, so dirty, so wrong...
~
"Lucy, you're awake already?" Scarlett looked at her milady with worried eyes. "You look so pale, even paler than normal. Is everything ok?"
Lucy's bottom lip trembled. No, she was not ok. She felt so strange, so wrong.
Scarlett sat on the bed beside her. "Aren't you looking forward to meeting the Wilsons today?
"No," Lucy whispered. Her voice quavered.
"What's wrong? You know you can tell me anything, Lucy. Anything and everything."
How should she tell this? Scarlett would hate her for sure.
"Anything... and everything," her maid said while he caressed Lucy's cheek.
"I...I did a bad thing, I think. I...I don't know. I feel bad." A tear rolled down her cheek. Scarlett probably found her so dirty if she would tell.
Lucy remembered she had an itch down there once and she scratched. It was at the birthday party of Margaret Johnson, who turned ten years old that day. Everyone had seen her scratch her dirty parts. Later that evening, mama was so mad she slapped her cheek 3 times.
"You could never do a bad thing."
"But I did. I was bad. I.. touched...myself."
Lucy burst into tears and hysterically began sobbing.
"Hey..." Scarlett lifted Lucy's chin. "Poor girl...don't cry. I think I know what you mean, but please, dry your tears. You don't have to cry over this."
"But y-you don't g-get it. I...I..." More tears fell.
"Stop that, or your eyes will be puffy all day long. I do understand, you touched yourself, here," Scarlett said, pointing at the spot between her legs.
"Y-you knew?" Lucy sniffed.
"Hmm," Scarlett hummed in agreement. "I know what you mean and there is nothing wrong with it, even if some people say there is. I don't think there is anything wrong about it at all. Please don't feel sad, guilty, or disgusted with yourself, Lucy."
"So...so, you think that I'm not a sinner?"
"No, dear." Scarlett smiled. "Did it feel good?"
"W-what?"
"Did it feel good?" Scarlett asked again. "It feels amazing doesn't it?"
Lucy hesitantly nodded. "Did you also..." She didn't finish her sentence.
"Oh, yes. Many times."
"Oh..." Lucy swallowed.
Scarlett got off the bed. "Let's get these braids out and make you the prettiest of all, ok?"
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