I do not own Ella Enchanted. It belongs to Gail Carson Levine.
Inappropriate Dinner Conversation
I was desolate--both Mama and Sir Peter were out, enjoying being newlyweds before Sir Peter has to leave, I'm sure. Nonetheless, Mama must have predicted my desolation, as she organized a very noble dinner party for me to host. Of course, I was thrilled; I always fancied myself a good hostess, and tonight would surely be the night for me to shine. And I would not allow Ella to ruin it for me; Sir Peter had insisted that she attend; despite Mama's most vehement protests. I was on Mama's side, of course; why should she attend such a crucial, formal dinner party? It was taking place in our manor, was it not?
Stepfamily be damned.
Regardless, Mama had told me and told me that I was to be on my best behavior when it came to Ella; and not to order her about incessantly. She might as well have forbid me from feeling any joy.
Ugh, no matter, I shall persevere.
We all gathered around the dinner table at exactly six o'clock, and the nobility that surrounded me was almost suffocating. Almost. I was mostly thrilled; there was a duchess, a duke, a dame, a lady, a sir, and a count, if my right-off guesses were correct. And I always assumed my guesses to be. After all, I was rarely ever wrong.
Ella sat next to me, rather close to me, I might add, and she was clad in that dreadful green frock that she wore at her mother's funeral. Really. There was a delightful buzz of conversation as soon as everyone was seated; however, Ella seemed unusually silent. She was always the quite one, but surely she spoke up during social gatherings? Surely. Mandy was bustling through the kitchen doors a moment later, laden with plates. I paid no attention, however, I was much to occupied with Ella; who was fiddling with her fork and smirking.
What, pray tell, is so amusing about a fork?
She ignored her food, preferring, apparently, to glance at me from the corner of her eye, and then turn her gaze on the staggering nobility in front of her.
I was so absorbed in staring at my infuriating stepsister that I was oblivious to someone calling my name.
"Hattie, would you kindly stop staring at me, and answer the duchess who is speaking to you?"
I snapped to attention; honestly! Her tone was scathingly snobbish; not all appropriate for someone of her lowly rank……I was livid, but nevertheless, I looked up, smiling brightly, and saying; "Yes, duchess?"
It was the Duchess of Jenn who had spoken to me; a distant relative of Blossom, or so I was told. Blossom had a tendency of making up various relations with various groups of nobility. This woman was apparently Blossom's cousin or aunt or something ridiculous and untrue like that.
"Oh, Hattie, dear, have you heard about Wolleck? It's dreadful, his manor caught fire last week. Oh, Blossom is in such a state, the dear. Have you spoken to her?"
No, I hadn't. Blossom was not one to associate with when she was depressed. It was a nightmare, and one that I did not care to have to deal with. But that would be very rude of me to say, so I simply smiled, and said; "No, I'm afraid Blossom hasn't paid me any visits, nor has she sent me any letters."
Beside me, Ella did a very poor job of stifling a chuckle.
"Oh, how unfortunate…..she always speaks so highly of you, Hattie." Oh, does she, now?
At this, I felt Ella's hand brush against my knee. I jumped, and the duchess (along with the rest of the table) stared at me like I had claimed the existence of unicorns. I was flabbergasted; what was she doing?
"Hattie, dear, are you alright?"
"Y-yes, duchess, yes, I'm just fine. Now, please, what was it that you were saying?"
The duchess shrugged, and smiled contentedly.
"Oh, well, you know, Blossom thinks you're such a wonderful friend. You come from such a nice family…."
Oh! Ella's hand slid up my thighs, coming to rest an inch away from….Ella!
I shuddered, but the duchess continued, going through my family tree.
"A count, a duchess, a dame; several dames, dear…" Really? Exactly how many--oh, god…
Her fingers pressed against me; Ella! Stop this! This is a DINNER OF NOBILITY!
"And there was a queen, too, I believe," the duchess informed me. A queen? Really? Oh, I just knew that I was meant to be--
Her fingers had slid inside my knickers; ELLA!
She rubbed gently, and I saw her smirk, fiddling with her fork with her free h-hand--OH!
I gasped; sucking in a sharp gust of air that was noisy and inappropriate.
"Hattie? Dear?" The duchess and the count and even the sir was looking at me with immense concern.
"Y-yes, d-duchess….I--just--a queen!"
Her fingers were pressing against and rubbing the bundle of nerves between my thighs--oh, god, oh, god, oh, god, oh. My. GOD.
"Yes! I know! Your mother says that your ambitions to become queen are not far-fetched in the slightest…"
Two of her fingers suddenly slid inside of me.
"Oh, Frell---!" The words fell from my lips in a strangled, half-screamed whisper.
The duchess looked more concerned than ever.
"Oh, ahem. It's--I'll--r-rule Frell…someday…" The duchess beamed.
I gripped the sides of my chair, struggling to keep my breathing at an appropriate rhythm.
Her fingers slipped in and out of me easily; why was this exciting me? I should have been appalled! But I wasn't, apparently.
"Oh, Hattie, I daresay, Wolleck wanted me to ask you; what would your mother think of having him over for dinner come next week? He's in such a right state…"
Dinner? With Wolleck? Well, I don't see why not--ah-ha!
Ella's fingers thrusted into me hard; curling and stretching and--
"Oh, JESUS! AH!" I spasmed; and muscles contracted and Ella grinned and the duchess looked oh-so concerned….
"Hattie?" She eyed me curiously; I was panting, and Ella was wiping her fingers on my knickers.
"Oh, my! I forgot! Mama needed me to--oh, Ella you must come with me. Excuse us."
A/N: Yay! Shameless PWP! Thank you, Blaze! The next chapter will be up….tomorrow, sometime? Today, maybe? Reviews, reviews, please!