The Beekeeper’s Daughters, Chapter 4

  • Posted on January 1, 2022 at 4:14 pm

by BlueJean


I was dancing in the wildflower meadow with Freya and Millie. But it was nighttime, and when the sun went down the wildflower meadow became The Midnight Garden, a place of whispers and cool seduction.

We were naked, the three of us, whirling and gyrating amongst sorrel and buttercup and yarrow, the flowers taller, more brightly coloured than I ever remembered them being. The girls giggled as they tried to swat my bum, but I was too quick for them and deftly evaded their attempts.

A full moon hung in the sky, illuminating our exquisite dance, and fireflies of purple and green glowed and pulsed, casting strange shadows across the garden.


Sadie was here as well, poised on the other side of the fence with her fingers tucked into the waistband of her trousers, an expectant look on her face.

“Can I come in and join you? Can I?” she asked me.

“Well, I don’t know,” I told her teasingly. “What do you think, girls? Should we let Miss Laine join us?”

Freya and Millie just laughed and frolicked through the wildflowers, while black and gold butterflies the size of birds fluttered around us, and big fat electric blue bumblebees harvested silver nectar.

Something else laughed with us too, something strange and ancient, ghosting through the trees.

And Mr. Dalliard hammered a new fence post into the ground nearby.


Hold on…

What’s Mr. Dalliard doing here?

He shouldn’t be here. This is a place for girls only.

And why is he naked?


No, this is all kinds of wrong.

“Always the bloomin’ same, it is,” Mr. Dalliard was saying. “Dead ‘usband, or ‘usband away on business trip, or divorced ‘usband, or wife-beatin’ ‘usband bin kicked out, or no bloomin’ ‘usband at all! Us fellas has got feelins’ too, ya know! Why can’t we be joinin’ in with the fun?”

“Away with you, Mr. Dalliard!” I cried, my hand held aloft. “There’s no place for you or your meat and two veg here!”

“Mummy! Wake up!”

“Wossamagga?” I mumbled and opened my eyes.

Wossamagga. Yes. I had invented a brand new word, and the Oxford English Dictionary would need to be informed.

Freya slowly came into focus. She was standing by my bed, shaking me.

“What time is it?” I groaned.

“About five o’clock in the morning,” she told me.

“Why did you wake me?”

“Millie’s not in bed.”

I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hands. “What do you mean she’s not in bed? Where is she?”

“I dunno. Bee’s gone too.”

Hastening out of bed, I peeked through the curtains. The sun was barely up, casting an orange hue on the horizon. The first early risers chirped and warbled their morning songs.

“Did you check downstairs?” I asked Freya.

“Yeah, she’s not there.”

“Put your wellies on and let’s go find her,” I said, and we hurried downstairs.

“Millie!” I shouted as we walked down the garden.

Freya climbed the tree house ladder to check up there, but found it unoccupied.

I walked to the edge of the poppy field and shouted out Millie’s name there too, but no answer.

I felt panic rising in my chest and had to push it back down. Keep calm, she’s okay, I told myself.

Suddenly I could hear a dog barking in the distance.”That’s Bee!” Freya said and dashed off in the direction of the sound.

“Wait, Freya!” I said, running after her.

Bee was standing at the edge of the forest, wagging her tail as we approached.

“Hey, puppy,” I said, scratching her behind the ears. “Where is she? Where’s Millie?”

“Go find her, Bee! Go find Millie!” Freya told the pup and Bee ran off into the woods with us in hot pursuit.

The puppy led us to a small clearing in the forest and then hid behind my legs.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. Millie was kneeling on the ground in her pajamas, her eyes closed, hands in her lap. In front of her, its eyes also shut, was a beautiful white roe deer.

My daughter and the animal held their foreheads together in some shared reverie. A greeting or a farewell, perhaps a silent prayer.

Was I still dreaming?

“What’re they doing?” Freya whispered to me.

“Millie?” I said in a hushed voice, unsure if I should disturb whatever it was they were doing.

The deer opened its eyes, fixed its gaze on me, then turned and ran off into the trees.

Millie noticed us and yawned. “Mummy, am I a wolf or a deer?” she asked me.

Sleepwalking. Of course, she was sleepwalking. She’d never done anything like that before, as far as I knew, but I didn’t have a better explanation.

And the deer? Just an inquisitive animal, perhaps. Who wouldn’t be curious to find a pajama-clad little girl asleep in the woods? It was like something from a fairy tale.

I put my arms around my youngest daughter and picked her up. “You have to tell us if you’re going out somewhere, Millie,” I told her gently.

“Can we have honey on porridge when we get home?” she asked, gazing up at me with sleepy eyes.

Freya was watching something in the trees, a frown on her face.

“What is it?” I asked her.

“I thought I saw something,” she replied.

“Probably just the deer,” I told her. “Let’s go home.”


The rest of the day was stiflingly hot. Freya, Millie and the puppy spent most of it paddling in the stream while I took refuge indoors with a water cooler and several books on beekeeping. I’d gone from two hives to thirty in a few short years, but there were always new things to learn.

When the evening arrived, the heat had dissipated a little, but it was clammy and uncomfortable. I knew what that meant.

The first rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance just after the girls had gone to bed, and by the time the sun had disappeared over the horizon, a blanket of falling rain enveloped the cottage.

I love summer rainstorms. I sat in the lounge with the French doors open and watched the monsoon fall, the thatched eaves wide enough to draw the rain away from the house in the absence of more modern gutters. Distant lightning illuminated the sky and the surrounding fields, making strange silhouettes of trees and clouds.

I had a bowl of our home-grown strawberries next to me on the couch, which I would dip into a little pot of chocolate sauce, then wash down with a glass of strawberry and lime flavoured gin and lemonade. So decadent.

I undid the first couple of buttons on my linen shirt and wiped away the perspiration that had collected in the hollow of my throat. Such a sticky, humid night.

I smiled to myself and stood up, undoing the rest of the buttons on my shirt and letting it fall to the floor, soon to be joined by my trousers and panties. I stepped outside into the rain and put my arms behind my head, letting the water cascade down my naked skin. So cool. So unbelievably wonderful.

“Oh my word,” I said, grinning from ear to ear.

Laughing joyously, I spun round and round, the heavy, unrelenting raindrops stinging my skin pleasantly. I pushed my drenched hair back and stood there in the garden with my face to the sky, letting the rain pound against me, all my worries and fears washing away. Nothing else mattered right now. Just this. Naked in the cool, cool rain.

More thunder rumbled in the distance, still miles away but closer than before. I decided to check on Bee and the girls.

I closed the doors up and carried my clothes upstairs, water dripping from my body onto the steps below.

I could hear voices coming from the girls’ room, the words indistinct under the sound of the hammering downpour. I padded across the landing and peered inside their bedroom, the door slightly ajar, leaving a small wedge of light to peek through.

Bee was asleep on her back on Millie’s bed, her little legs stuck out and pointed upwards comically.

Millie and Freya were most definitely not asleep. I put a hand to my mouth and gasped.

Freya was sprawled back on her bed with Millie on top of her in a sixty-nine, both of them completely naked as they ate each other out. Where on earth had they learnt to do that?

“You smell really nice, Millie,” Freya told her sister as she held Millie’s bum cheeks apart, trailing long licks up and down her cleft.

Millie’s face appeared from between her big sister’s legs, lips glistening with moisture. “Thanks. Is it my kitty that smells nice?” she said.

“Your bum and your kitty. It just all smells so… so sexy,” Freya told her.

“You’re quite dirty, aren’t you?” Millie giggled.

Freya giggled too. “Yeah, I am a bit. Don’t stop licking me, please.”

My hand found its way between my legs. I couldn’t stop it. Dropping my clothes, I leaned against the doorframe, pushing two fingers through my folds and kneading a breast as I peeked through the little gap at this delightfully erotic scene.

Stop this, it’s not right!

No. I’m not stopping. I’m just not, okay?

“Oh, yeah. Lick each other,” I mouthed silently, not daring to speak or even whisper the words.

“Shall I stick my tongue in your hole, Millie?” Freya asked her sister.

Yes. Do that. Please do that.

“Yeah, okay. Stick it in as far as you can, then push it in and out really fast,” Millie said.

I didn’t know little girls could be like this.

“Okay, but you have to do it to me too,” Freya said and spread her sister’s arse cheeks even further apart. She drew back slightly to inspect her target, then stabbed her tongue deep inside Millie’s tiny cunt hole.

Oh, God yes. Tongue fuck your little sister. Do it to her!

I shoved two fingers into my own cunt, hoping that the pouring rain would drown out the sounds of my heavy breathing and the sticky, sloshy noises between my legs.

“Oh, wow, it feels so deep inside my kitty!” Millie gushed, looking back at her sister with a dopey smile on her face.

Freya frowned. “Don’t stop licking me, Millie, I want to do an orgasm.”

An orgasm? She’s having orgasms?

Millie put her face back down between Freya’s legs and tongued her cunt enthusiastically.

Lifting her arse off the bed, Freya humped her sister’s mouth. “I – I love doing naughty stuff with you, Millie!” she gasped, lashing her tongue against Millie’s slit.

“Oh, fuck, you dirty girls. Mummy’s gonna come,” I mouthed silently as my fingers thrashed against my clit.

“Millie, I’m d-doing it! Don’t stop, don’t stop!” Freya groaned, then came in her little sister’s face.

I came, too. I leant back against the wall and held my fingers inside as my orgasm shuddered through me, clamping the other hand over my mouth to muffle a moan.

“It’s so wet,” Millie said as she rubbed her fingers over Freya’s pussy, then took them away to inspect the slick fluid that coated them.

Freya took one last lick of Millie’s hairless cunt. “Yummy kitty!” she said, and both girls giggled.

I picked my clothes up and crept to the bathroom to fetch a towel. I slept naked that night and treated myself to several more orgasms.


Mr. Dalliard came round to repair the fence around our vegetable patch, and as Millie and me tended to the vegetables for Mum, he told us stories about his life.

He said he fought in both world wars but I couldn’t see how he could have been a soldier in World War One, unless my maths were wrong. I didn’t want to say anything because I heard that if you tell people they didn’t fight in a war when they actually did, it made them really angry. I would definitely be getting my calculator out later though.

“Mr. Dalliard?” Millie said as she sprinkled the courgettes with her pink watering can.

“Aye, nipper?” Mr. Dalliard said and hammered another slat onto the cross beams of the fence.

“How old are you?”

OMG, here we go.

“Buggered if I know. Lost count years ago, I did.”

“You just said a swear word!” I gasped as I picked some beans from their stalk and put them in a little basket.

“Don’t tell yer mum then, or she’ll tan me ‘ide,” Mr. Dalliard grinned.

Millie and me giggled.

“I asked the Dryad how old you were, but I can’t remember if she told me or not,” Millie said.

Mr. Dalliard stopped hammering and just sort of stared at the fence with a strange look on his face. He didn’t look at us when he finally spoke. “Lady ‘o the oak spoke t’ya, did she?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Millie hummed, nodding.

“Best not speak to ‘er anymore, Millie,” Mr. Dalliard said.

I never heard him call us by our names until then. “Why? You told us to ask her how old you were,” I said.

“I was only muckin’ about, nipper. Dryad don’t normally talk to folk, but when they do… well, just best to stay away from that old oak, maybe.”

“She’s not bad or anything, though,” Millie said.

“No, she ain’t bad, but neither be a tree when it falls on top o’ yer.”

I think I might have mentioned it before but Mr. Dalliard says some weird stuff sometimes. Me and Millie just stared at him.

Mr. Dalliard sighed and put his hammer down. “What I means to say is, nature ain’t good nor bad, but that don’t mean it can’t ‘urt ya sometimes. You’s gotta respect it, enjoy it from a distance, mayhap.” He looked over at us. “You ‘ear me, young’uns?”

“Yes, Mr. Dalliard,” Millie and me said together.


Later on, Miss Laine came round to have dinner with us.

Miss Laine was probably the nicest teacher in the world and all the other kids at school were jealous that she and our mum were best friends and that we got to spend a lot of time with her. Sometimes she even stayed the night at our house if she had too much to drink and couldn’t drive home, although she always told us not to tell the other kids about that.

As soon as we saw her little car outside the cottage, we ran out to greet her.

“Hello, Miss Laine!” Millie shouted.

Miss Laine climbed out of her car and kissed us both on the cheek, making a ‘mwah’ noise. I noticed that she smelled really nice, like body wash and flowers. “Hello, girls. Are you being good?”

“Miss Laine, will you watch a movie with us later?” Millie asked.

“Miss Laine, can you help me write my diary?” I asked.

“Miss Laine, I ate nearly a whole jar of your damson jam!”

“Miss Laine, shall we show you the poppy field after dinner?”

“Miss Laine, I sleepwalked into the forest and made friends with a deer.”

“Miss Laine, we met this girl called Kerry and played pirates with her on Habbernack Island.”

“Miss Laine, will you tuck us up in bed and read us a story later?”

Miss Laine held her hands out over our heads and gave us a stern look. “Shhhhh,” she told us. “Calm… calm… calm.”

Millie and me closed our mouths and stood to attention.

Miss Laine looked from me to my sister several times and then nodded approvingly. “Now. Are you both calm?”

“Yes, Miss Laine,” we said together.

Suddenly she burst out laughing and attacked us with tickles. “The Tickle Monster’s coming to get you! Tickle tickle tickle!” she shrieked, chasing after us as we ran away towards the house, giggling hysterically.

I was a bit old for the Tickle Monster really but I didn’t mind joining in, just this once.

Okay, fine, I did kind of like it when Miss Laine tickled me. Happy now?

Mum met us at the door and let Miss Laine inside but she wouldn’t let me and Millie in. “And you two are…?”

I rolled my eyes. Mum played this game a lot. Most days when we came home from school, actually. She thought it was hilariously funny.

“We’re your daughters, Mummy!” Millie said, giggling.

I wasn’t playing along, so I just crossed my arms and gave Mum a look.

“My daughters? I don’t remember having any daughters. Are you sure?” Mum said dramatically. If you wanted to know where Millie got her bad acting skills from, well now you do.

“Can I come in, please? I need a wee,” I said, stamping my foot.

“Okay, but only for five minutes,” Mum said, looking ever so pleased with herself.

“You’re so weird, Mummy,” Millie said and poked Mum in the leg.


We ate dinner outside on the rattan dining table, with the big parasol up to keep us shaded from the sun. Mum made roasted sea bream with lemon and olive oil and we had fresh vegetables from our garden too.

“Miss Laine, me and Freya picked these beans and courgettes,” Millie told our teacher.

“Oh, they’re delicious!” Miss Laine said and me and Millie smiled proudly. “You don’t need to keep calling me Miss Laine, though. Sadie’s okay when we’re not at school.”

“Okay… Sadie,” I said, almost swooning with delight. When the other girls at school found out that me and Millie were allowed to call Miss Laine by her first name, they’d probably try to gouge my eyes out in jealousy. I couldn’t wait to tell them!

Millie kept picking bits of food off her plate and feeding them to Bee, who was under the table.

“Millie, stop feeding the puppy, you’ll encourage her to beg,” Mum told her.

“Sorry,” Millie said and shrugged at Bee.

“What’s this about you and a deer, Millie?” Miss Laine asked my sister.

“Mummy said I was sleepwalking and this deer was there trying to kiss me or something,” Millie explained.

“Don’t you remember?” I said.

“Sort of. The Dryad wanted me to meet the deer, I think.”

“Dryad? A tree nymph?” Miss Laine asked with interest.

“Mr. Dalliard told them about a forest spirit that lives in that ancient oak down by the fields,” Mum explained to Miss Laine.

“Oh, I see. What does she look like, Millie?”

Millie chewed on a string bean and we all waited for her to finish. “Well,” she said finally. “She’s green and naked.”

“Green and naked, huh?” Mum said.

“You’ve just described The Incredible Hulk,” I told my sister.

Millie was chewing on another bean but she was too impatient so she pulled it out of her mouth and put it back on her plate. “No, she’s like the other green one, the woman from the space movies, but with no clothes and longer hair. She’s really pretty like Miss La— um… Sadie.”

“Well, thank you, Millie Newton!” Miss Laine said and kissed Millie on the cheek.

“I think you’re pretty too,” I said quickly. No way was I going to be left out.

“And thank you, Freya,” Miss Laine said and kissed me too. I smiled shyly.

“Have you seen the tree nymph, too?” Miss Laine asked me.

Well, I had seen something. Mum said it was just the deer but to me it looked like… walking leaves? I don’t know, but the more I looked at it, the harder it was to see. I couldn’t tell Miss Laine any of that though.

“No, Millie just made it up. Mum says she’s got an overactive thyroid,” I said, feeling very mature.

Mum and Miss Laine burst out laughing.

“What?” I said.

“You mean an overactive imagination.” Mum was barely able to explain, she was laughing so much. “An overactive thyroid is what Mrs. Jeffries down at the post office has got.”

“Oh God, I think some wee came out!” Miss Laine said, shaking with laughter, and that made Mum laugh even more.

“I got them mixed up,” I said, feeling a bit stupid.

Millie looked like she wanted to slap me. “I didn’t make it up, Freya,” she said to me in a quiet voice.


After dinner, the girls insisted on taking Sadie for a walk through the poppy field, and then showing her the vegetable garden and the wildflower meadow. Then they wanted to watch a movie with her, but I had to explain that Sadie wasn’t just here for them.

They really did love their teacher. My own teacher had been a lunch time alcoholic with bad breath and crooked yellow teeth who used to poke us in the back with a biro, so I suppose the girls were lucky.

Eventually I managed to persuade Freya and Millie that it was time for bed and that no, Sadie wasn’t going to read them a bedtime story because I needed her to drink wine with me.

We sat in the lounge with the French doors open and listened to the sound of crickets chirping out in the fields and the barking of foxes as they emerged from their secret dens for a night’s hunt.

“I think the girls want you to adopt them,” I said as I refilled our wine glasses.

Sadie laughed. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t steal them from their mummy.”

I curled up on the coach. “I’m surprised you don’t have kids of your own. You’d be an amazing mum.”

“I do have kids. Lots and lots of kids,” Sadie said.

“I suppose you do. But don’t you want some babies of your own?”

Sadie raised her glass to her lips and took a mouthful of wine, then closed her eyes and smiled. “Every child that enters my classroom is an empty vessel. I fill them with knowledge and wisdom, nurture them, care for them, put plasters on their knees when they fall over, teach them to be kind and generous to each other, put all my body and soul into preparing them for the world outside.”

She opened her eyes and fixed her gaze on me. “And when each of them walks out of my classroom for the last time, my heart breaks. Again and again and again. And it hurts, it really does. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I was kind of stunned. She’d been my friend for five years but sometimes I felt like there was someone else in there, deep beneath that kooky, easy going exterior. We all have layers, I suppose.

“You’ve just described motherhood,” I said, impressed.

Sadie smiled warmly. “Yep.” She pulled her legs up underneath her and flicked her chestnut hair back. “Now. Did you shag Sarah or not?”

“Wow. Way to kill the mood,” I replied, sarcastically. “And no. I did not.”

“Oh, boring!”

“What are we, fourteen-year-olds? I barely knew her.”

“I saw the way you looked at her,” Sadie said teasingly, wagging a finger at me.

“Oh, you mean the exact same way you looked at her?” I shot back.

Sadie chuckled. “Do you think we’re turning into a couple of horny dykes?”

“I’m not turning into anything, but you’re turning into a right pervy school teacher!”

Sadie drained her glass and slid it across the coffee table towards me. “Pour me more wine, Georgia Newton, or I’ll masturbate at you again!”

I cracked up laughing and poured her another glass, spilling some on the table. I was a little hazy on the number of bottles we’d opened so far that night. “Oops, butterflingers,” I said.

Sadie howled with laughter. “You said ‘flingers’!”

I threw my napkin at her. “Shut up!”

When Sadie finally stopped laughing, she took another swallow of wine. “Is Freya still flashing her unmentionables?” she asked me with a glint in her eye.

How much did I want to tell her? I was a little drunk; probably not in a fit state to edit myself very well. “I found her and Millie in the poppy field, rubbing their girly bits together,” I told my friend and immediately wished I could stuff the words back in my mouth.

Sadie sat there with a hand over her mouth. “Oh dear…”


“What did you do?”

“Snuck away before they could see me.”

Sadie had a finger in her mouth as she sat there in rapt attention. “Anything else?”

I drank my wine and stared back at her over the rim of my glass. “Maybe…” I said, finally.

“Tell me,” Sadie insisted in a hushed voice.

“Only if…” I began and then trailed off.


Don’t. Just don’t.

“Only if you play with yourself again.”



“Right here?”


Sadie regarded me for a long time. Finally she reached down and took hold of the hem of her long, tight fitting skirt and pulled it up around her waist.

“You’re wearing stockings and suspenders,” I said.

“I know,” she said and placed a hand over the crotch of her lacy panties.

I unbuttoned my trousers and pulled them off. “Do you wear naughty lingerie to school?”

“Sometimes,” she said, lightly caressing herself.


“It makes me feel sexy.”

“It makes you feel sexy?”


“In front of all the little girls and boys?” I asked and slipped my hand down my knickers.

A pause. But just a short one. “Yes,” Sadie admitted, her own hand disappearing into her panties. “Tell me what else the girls did.”

You shouldn’t tell her. Not really.

“After you masturbated on Zoom…” I began.


“I crept upstairs and snuck into their room.”

“What did you see?” Sadie asked me, her hand toiling away under her knickers.

“Freya had fallen asleep humping her pillow. Her pajamas and panties were pulled down round her knees.”

“Oh, my word.”

“She had a pair of my dirty knickers clutched to her face.”

“That’s… that’s so naughty,” Sadie groaned.

“Yeah,” I agreed and pushed two fingers inside myself.

“What did you do that time?”

Don’t tell her. You mustn’t.

“I… I did what I’m doing now.”

Sadie frowned, but didn’t stop touching herself. “In their bedroom?”

“Yes. I stood over Freya and masturbated while she slept.”

“Oh, God,” Sadie moaned.

“But that’s not all,” I said as I fingered myself.


“You won’t tell on me will you, Miss Laine?” I said in a little girl voice.

Sadie smiled at me wickedly. “No, Georgia Newton, I won’t tell on you.”

“I caught them again a few nights later,” I told my friend. “I could see them through a crack in their doorway.”

“What were they doing?”

“I… I don’t know if I should tell you.”

“Tell me. Please,” my friend begged as she played with herself.

“They were licking each other out,” I told her.

“Oh, fuck,” Sadie whimpered.

“Freya was pulling Millie’s arse cheeks open and actually eating her sister out.”

“But they’re so young.”

“I know.”

“Did you rush in there and tell them off?”

“I should have,” I said and spread my legs open.

Sadie stared between my legs. “But you didn’t, did you?”

I shook my head.

“What did you do?”


“I watched them.”

“What else?” Sadie asked me and slung a leg over the arm of the chair she was slouched in.

“I watched them and I masturbated. I stood outside their bedroom door and fingered myself while I watched them lick each other’s pussies.”

“Oh, Georgia, that’s so naughty. So fucking naughty.”

“Potty mouth,” I moaned, my fingers scissoring in and out of my pussy.

“I want to see your cunt,” Sadie told me.

“What if all the little girls and boys heard you talk like that?”

“Show me.”

I slipped my knickers off and dropped them on top of my trousers on the floor, then spread my legs again. “Show me yours now,” I said to Sadie.

“Ask me nicely.”

“Show me your pretty cunt, Miss Laine.”

Sadie lifted her legs up and pulled her panties off. She took a quick sniff of them and then draped them over the arm of the chair. “When I was little, I used to like fingering other girls,” she told me, pulling her feet back up onto the chair and then spreading her knees apart.

“Did you?”

“Yes. The little boys couldn’t get stiffies and they weren’t really interested in naughty games, but us girls liked to experiment on each other. I sometimes think about it when I masturbate, how we used to enjoy putting our hands into each other’s panties.”

I was going to come. “Do you think about it in class? When you’re teaching the children?”

“Oh, Georgia, don’t ask me that. You mustn’t ask me that,” Sadie groaned as her fingers lashed against her clit.

“Do you?” I said, my own fingers pistoning in and out of my cunt.

“Oh, fuck! Georgia!” Sadie hissed and writhed in her chair, her hand pressed tightly against her pussy as it squeezed out her orgasm.

My turn now. Here it comes. “Coming! Sadie, I’m… oh yeah, lick her little pussy!”

Didn’t mean to say that out loud.

I thrust my pelvis up and held my fingers inside as my climax washed over me.

Sadie sat slumped in the chair, arms behind her head and legs still spread wide, her pussy lips inflamed and glistening with juices. She brought a hand down to her cunt again and idly caressed herself, then popped her sticky fingers into her mouth.

I hoped the girls hadn’t heard us having fun.

I glanced up the top of the stairs to the landing, where the last few steps disappeared up to the next floor. I could see a little pair of eyes up there, peering down at us, almost hidden in the darkness.




She had seen us.

We looked at each other, just briefly, and then she was gone.

This would take some explaining…

On to Chapter Five!


15 Comments on The Beekeeper’s Daughters, Chapter 4

  1. DaughterLover says:

    What a wonderful way to start a new year 🙂 I’ve read it through twice now, the first time imagining I was Georgia watching my two sexy little girls lick each other while I made myself cum. That wasn’t enough, though, so I read it again as Sadie, wearing sexy lingerie while teaching all the cute young girls in her classroom, her mind filled with images of rubbing their sweet little bits. Jilling for Georgia while she watched. Jilling for each other while they shared their juicy secrets 😉 The sharing of their desires is what really resonates for me, since there isn’t anyone in my real life that I can share these thoughts with. My only problem is that I can’t decide whether it’s Georgia or Sadie who is luckier, so thank the goddess we have both of them to emulate in our secret thoughts 🙂 Thank you, and goddess bless this site!

    • BlueJean says:

      It’s still a source of amazement to me that people can invest themselves so thoroughly in the characters and situations I’ve created. I hope I never start taking that for granted.

      I’m glad you can let your guard down and express your desires via my and other author’s stories every once in awhile. Thank you. Truly.

  2. David says:

    Another great chapter BlueJean, well written and detailed. So erotic, hearing about the girls eating each other as mom watches. Then Georgia and Sadie masturbating while they tell each other their naughty thoughts. This story keeps getting better and can’t wait for the next chapter. Thanks BlueJean!

  3. Erocritique says:

    Total escape; every time I enter the wonder filled world that Blue Jean has created. I feel a bit of trepidation whenever the girls interact with the dryad, and I’m hoping she doesn’t become a siren of sorts. If she simply enhances / amplifies the ladies and girls natural sexual predilections, then I would consider her a beneficial influence. Hopefully the family can live in harmony with her. The sexual activity is reaching a fever pitch, and the next chapter is obviously going to be a seminal event. This story just keeps getting better and better, and hotter and hotter. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

    • BlueJean says:

      Well, there’s not many reassurances I can give you regarding the Dryad storyline without spoilers, but I can tell you the story goes in directions you might not be expecting.

      I mean, I wrote it, and even I was surprised!

      Thanks for reading.

  4. Tim says:

    Yes, another great chapter, and so worth reading again!
    As always in this series, it’s not just the sex, but the mystery, magic, and story telling that makes it so good.
    But back to the sex, the part where Georgia and Sadie masturbate as they share their desires is just erotic beyond words.
    Thanks BlueJean, great writing,….. again!!

    • BlueJean says:

      Hey everyone! Tim snuck away and read all 10 chapters on another forum! There. I said it.

      Thanks for reading again😉

      I’m curious to know if you’re noticing much difference between the JS and Leslita versions.

  5. Tim says:

    Yes, sorry BlueJean, I said I wasn’t going to, but impatience won the day and I couldn’t resist reading ahead on the other forum.
    I honestly didn’t notice much difference in chapter 4, I thought it was pretty similar to the original, just better for another read!!!

  6. Fabia Rochella says:

    I’d love to teach, but will never happen, over and above the FMS & associated cancers, I have this inconvenient urge to tell them the truth about life the universe and everything – not the drizzle of dysenteric crap that is the curriculum, especially when it comes to history.
    Genius loci are often like that, they don’t good, they don’t evil, they just let you dig your own grave.

    • BlueJean says:

      People tell me schools are better places these days. I don’t know if that’s true, but when I was at school, I learnt nothing. Curriculum was like a machine — it wasn’t teaching me about my pain and my emotions and how to cope with being a confused,sentient ape.

      The alcoholic teacher with bad breath and crooked yellow teeth who used to poke their students in the back with a biro? That was my teacher. I had several of those, actually.

      There’s a documentary I watched years ago, about an old French guy who taught kids in a rural school. No narration at all, they simply filmed him doing his thing over the course of a school term. Clearly he cared for his students. When they were upset, he took them aside, sat down with them and tried to get to the root of why they were hurting. And at the end of the documentary, when some of those kids walked out of his classroom for the very last time, this old teacher just stood there and wept.

      That’s where Sadie came from.

      As for this particular Genius Loci — I’d like to think she cares, but even after ten chapters, I don’t really know who she is. I think maybe it’s better that way. You can believe in gods and still choose not to put any faith in them. There’s strength to be gained there, I think.

      Well, that’s me way out of my comfort zone, but I hope this is of some use to you.

  7. Steve says:

    Excellent bring on the sex with the girls and the adults

  8. Kim & Sue says:

    Thank you for another great chapter. So hot and with so many developments.

  9. kinkys_sis says:

    Loved it, no need to say more regarding the story really.

    As for school. You can take it from me they are mostly much better places than I’m told they used to be. Many teachers care a lot. Most are very good at what they do.

    I do know one lesbian teacher and she’s hot. But also perfectly behaved – as she must be. Such a shame.

  10. Theodorable says:

    my pussy was so wet while I was playing with myself while reading this, I’d love to have mature women come and play with me

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