by Emily Tilton
For the next half hour the lesson went on, with its very titillating study of Perseus as a natural man. All the pupils seemed rather distracted, especially the new girls, by the sight of Alice’s naked backside on display, feet spread and bound so that even her sweet rose of a bottom-hole winked at them from the front of the room. That seemed to Joe to make it easier for Miss Reynolds to impose order, for none of the other young ladies, it appeared, wished to suffer the same terrible fate.
At last Miss Reynolds said, “Elder Hilton, would you please come forward? It is time for Miss Rhodes to receive the just reward of her misconduct.”
As the elder stepped forward, Joe noticed for the first time that another man had slipped into the back of the room to stand with the male citizens observing the lesson. Elder Shaw stood there, a concerned look upon his face. Now Joe saw Miss Reynolds look to her master and watched the confident authority in the schoolteacher’s face evaporate for an instant. It returned as Miss Reynolds turned back to the advancing Elder Hilton, but for a moment Joe wondered if Stella Reynolds might not be in for a punishment of her own for the way she had handled Alice’s education thus far.
Elder Hilton took the birch from Alice’s back. She gave a muffled sob, through her pants, and her bottom clenched in fear of the discipline to come. One or two of the new girls gave a nervous giggle at the lewd motion, and a whisper was heard at the back, near where the men stood, “She does need it, right in the bottom!”
“Silence!” said Miss Reynolds. “You new girls, this is your last chance. The next girl to speak or giggle will be over the desk once Miss Rhodes rises.”
Another new girl—one not as brazen as the whisperer—emitted a little whimper at that. Though all his concentration was on the front of the room, where Elder Hilton now began solemnly to bring the birch down hard upon Alice’s pretty round bottom, Joe marveled at how different the young ladies of Brownsville could be from one another. Naughty brats and sweet angels equally needed the firm hand and hard cock of a natural man.
Alice strained against her bonds and screamed through her knickers, bucking over Miss Reynolds’ desk as the elder birched her pitilessly, over and over. Her bottom seemed to ride a saddle of fire, clenching and unclenching, desperate to soothe away a little of the pain. Joe became as hard as a bar of iron in his trousers at the suggestive sight, and at the thought of deflowering his sweet girl right then and there over the desk, making her ride his cock the way she seemed to ride a phantom steed of correction. But at the same time—and, he felt sure, unlike any other man present—he wanted the chastisement to end, to take Alice on his lap very carefully and cuddle her as he kissed away her tears and listened to her promises to be a better, more pleasing girl.
“That is sufficient, Elder Hilton,” Miss Reynolds said at last. “Miss Jones, please help Miss Rhodes to the water closet, then bring her to the parlor for her next duty. Make sure she makes her water like a good girl, even if she can’t sit upon the seat. Leave the knickers in her mouth, please. We have no interest in how she feels about the matter, and her mouth will be full of penis soon enough.”
Chapter Fifteen
The pain in Alice’s bottom and thighs was so great that she could hardly think. As Mary unfastened the straps around her wrists and her feet, and helped her up from Miss Reynolds’ desk, it took several moments for her to realize that Elder Shaw had come forward to speak with his young lady, and that though the elder kept his voice very low he was speaking with some urgency, and some severity, to the schoolteacher.
Alice wept quietly, the taste of her underwear in her mouth seeming to renew her humiliation with every little sob that brought the mixture of her cunt’s naughty wetness and the laundered cotton to her senses. She fixed her eyes on the floor as Mary led her past the elder and the teacher, and for a few moments she overheard what the tall, dark-haired man was saying. She managed to focus on his words, rather than how much it hurt to take each step and how the location of the pain in her bare backside, now terribly marked for all to see, brought fresh embarrassment.
“No, Stella. It ends today.”
“But, sir…”
“You heard me. The girl has had enough. I’m going to call a special town meeting. And you’ll have the cane tonight.”
Alice swallowed hard. For a moment she nearly forgot the agony in her own bottom. Miss Reynolds would get the cane? The girls all said the cane was even worse than the birch! Irma Fenton had been caned by Ken Sweeney a month before, for arriving at the bunkhouse late without an excuse—Irma said the welts hadn’t stopped hurting for a week.
All the impressions of the past hour, and the past days, seemed to flow together. The elder must be speaking of Alice, mustn’t he? What would happen at the meeting? She kept her eyes down and let Mary draw her along, tears of pain and shame running down her cheeks. Alice thought she saw Joe’s boots, and part of her wanted to look up at him to see what he thought of the woeful sight of the naked, punished girl with her knickers in her mouth he seemed to think he wanted. He had said he was sorry, as he bound her to the desk, but what had that meant? Maybe it had meant that he was sorry she had come to him—in her pain and confusion, and now her fright of what the elder had said, she didn’t feel sure of anything. In fact, at that moment she began to convince herself that because Elder Shaw couldn’t have meant that Miss Reynolds would have the cane, he must have meant that Alice would have the cane, and how could she possibly bear it?
When they had reached the privacy of the water closet at last, Mary gently removed Alice’s pants from between her lips though Alice mewed her objection, and then whispered, “Oh, please, Mary. They’ll cane me.”
“Hush,” Mary said. “We’ll put them back in before we leave. Go ahead and pee. I need to, too.”
Alice bit her lip and frowned. “In front of you?” Despite everything, having to be watched as she went pee seemed terribly embarrassing.
Mary gave her a sympathetic look, but she said, “Yes. I have to make sure.”
Alice looked at the water closet. “I can’t sit,” she whispered, a fat tear running down her cheek.
But Mary lifted the seat for her. “Squat over it, Alice. It will be alright.”
As Alice, her eyes closed, finally obeyed, hearing the shameful sound loud in the little room, she asked Mary the question that burned in her mind, in hopes of taking her mind from what Mary saw between her legs, the golden stream rushing from her bare privates.
“Did you hear what Elder Shaw said?”
“About the town meeting, you mean?” Mary asked.
Alice whimpered with relief at voiding herself, despite the humiliation. Suddenly all the sensations down there seemed to combine, terribly, and the whimper became a long moan. How could it feel… good? Or, not good… but so very, very needy.
“Yes,” she said, though she didn’t know how she even managed to get the syllable out. “Oh, Mary, I…”
She saw in Mary’s widened eyes that the other girl understood what had started to happen to Alice.
“Let me pee,” she whispered urgently. “You watch me, then… then I’ll bend you over.”
Alice swallowed hard. She didn’t know how the simple words bend you over could set her loins alight with shameful, wonderful possibilities, but she scrambled to wipe herself and to change places with Mary.
“Put your knickers back in your mouth,” Mary said, strangely imperious for a girl whose pee Alice could see emerging from her sweet bare cunny, “so they won’t hear you when you spend.”
Alice obeyed, unable to defy her friend’s new erotic tyranny. As she did, she watched Mary wipe herself, and then she couldn’t keep from putting her hand down between her legs to touch her burning clitoris, where her knickers should cover her, but didn’t because she had been naughty, had had to learn a lesson, had lost the privilege of underwear. She watched Mary’s eyes follow the motion, watched her swallow hard as Alice did the naughty thing, the shameful gag in her mouth seeming somehow to increase th
e feeling down below.
“Don’t you dare,” Mary said, rising. “Bend over. Put your hands on the seat. Spread those knees so I can kiss and make it better.”
Mary did, kneeling in the little water closet behind Mary, kissing and kissing while Alice whimpered through the wadded cotton in her mouth, breathing desperately through her nose as her climax happened almost instantly under Mary’s tongue. Her aching bottom bounced lewdly, pushed, worked itself upon her friend’s face uncontrollably as she spent, until Mary stopped, pulling her face a few inches away from Alice’s shaved cunt, and said in a strange, thick voice, “Ken Sweeney will fuck this sweet pussy at the town meeting. I’m sure that’s what Elder Shaw means to do.”
Alice closed her eyes and bent her head. What Mary said seemed to her exactly what the future would hold, unless she found a way to change it. She felt now that Elder Shaw could only have meant that—and that Ken would cane Alice, too, at the meeting, to teach her respect, just as Miss Reynolds did. The elder must have meant that it was time for Alice to graduate to a man who knew how to discipline her properly, since she hadn’t learned, since she had touched herself after her birching, since she had let her friend kneel behind her and kiss her cunt.
Silently she let Mary lead her to the parlor, where the men did indeed replace her knickers with their cocks, making her crawl from lap to lap among the skirts of the other girls’ fine visiting-day dresses. Mr. Sweeney kept her mouth upon his hardness for long minutes, holding her in place as he thrust vigorously upward between her lips until his seed came and he told her, “Every drop, girl. And thank me afterward.”
Joe was kinder, and didn’t spend in her mouth but rather let her suck him gently for a few moments while he bent over her and held her punished backside gently in his big hand. Then he said, “It’s alright, sweetheart. Go to the elders now.”
The troubled note in his voice, Alice thought, should have helped her, for it should have conveyed his sympathy, just as he so clearly intended. But as the naked girl with the terribly punished bottom, who had now to carry her knickers from lap to lap as she served the natural men of Brownsville, who had to watch Elder Hilton unbutton himself so that she could reverently free his cock from his trousers, kiss it, suck it, please it… Alice felt that Joe’s sympathy, dear as he had so strangely become to her, simply didn’t provide any assistance at all. In fact, it seemed to make her more desperate to do something reckless, to show them—Miss Reynolds, the elders, Ken, Joe himself—that she didn’t have to tell anyone, ever, how much she needed this shameful new life they seemed so intent on giving her.
Nor did what the elders said to one another quiet her mind, as Alice sucked first Elder Hilton’s cock, and then Elder Shaw’s, and then, at the latter’s request, Elder Hilton’s again, in training to serve two men at once with her mouth.
“That’s it, Miss Rhodes. Your hands on both of us, but your mouth going from me to Elder Hilton every few moments. Very good, my dear. Your mouth is already a nice place to fuck.”
Alice’s face blazed so hot that she almost felt the burning there might rival the burning between her legs, or even the gradually dulling smart from her bottom-cheeks and upper thighs.
Then, much worse, Elder Hilton said to Elder Shaw, “You want to hold the town meeting tomorrow, then?”
And Elder Shaw replied, “Yes—the farmers shouldn’t have any trouble coming into town for a few hours, in the afternoon. Vic Rottner and Abe Fredricks from the bunkhouse can go around this afternoon and let them know. We must get the matter decided. There, Miss Rhodes, just like that. I’ll hold you still now… stroke my balls, if you please. Oh, there… very nice… kiss them now, while you pump the shaft with your hand. I shall spend upon your face, if you please, and then you may go wash up, after Elder Hilton does the same.”
The white seed spurted out of the cocks onto Alice’s forehead, her cheeks, her naked breasts. She rose at last, her underwear in her hand, and gave Miss Reynolds a final glance. Alice hoped she supposed to see the schoolteacher looking remorseful, but she found Miss Reynolds looking back at her implacably, inscrutably, seeming to tell Alice with her eyes that even if her teacher received a terrible spanking from her master, it could not change a single shameful thing in Alice’s heart.
She went upstairs to the dormitory to change into her parlor dress, her bottom aching with each step, sure that Joe and Ken were watching her backside’s ascent and, to her dismay, trying in a way beyond her control to sway her hips attractively. She wanted them to see the marks of her punishment—the birching for which they had fastened her to the teacher’s desk—to the best advantage, she realized with yet another hot blush. How could she?
How could she? she wondered over and over as she began to dress, clumsily of course without the help of another girl but grateful for the loose split drawers of this outfit at least. How could she?
Alice tugged on the drawers, and whimpered at the touch of the fabric, and knew suddenly with the rush of heat between her thighs that she couldn’t.
Instead of her corset cover and her petticoats, she put on her gingham work dress. She had slipped down the back stairs to the place where the heavy woolen great coats hung, ready for those who needed to go out to tend to the horses in the stable, before she could even truly consider what she did.
Nor did she think about it at all, except as a purely practical matter of putting on boots and taking a coat and going out into the cold and around the backs of the town’s houses, until she was passing Joe’s cabin again. The railroad lay that way, though no station stood upon it for miles in either direction. She would find the ribbons of steel, and follow them to a place where girls could yearn in comfortable silence for men like Joe Smithers.
She knew she must cross the wagon trail, which she had heard from the other girls in Brownsville had fallen into nearly complete disuse and shouldn’t have been the way the Gantners’ pastor had taken them. She didn’t notice it at all, though, in the snow lingering from the blizzard that had brought her to Brownsville and, she now supposed, made it impossible for the Sioux to track her. She came to the rails, and she stood there uncertainly, not even knowing which direction would take her more quickly to a station stop.
Alice needn’t have worried, in the end, because there on the railroad, in the clear but fading sunlight, she had come into full visibility of the Sioux winter camp nestled in the hills a half mile to the north.
Chapter Sixteen
Thomas had not the slightest sympathy for Stella Reynolds as he watched her punished with the cane for her handling of Alice Rhodes’ situation. Bound naked over the discipline horse, in the presence only of himself and Shaw, so as not undermine her authority in the schoolroom, Miss Reynolds screamed her penitence as she acquired twenty-four pretty double lines of vivid red across her pale, shapely bottom.
“I am very sorry to have to do this, Stella,” Shaw had said as his young lady sobbed, even before he had begun to flog her, “but it is essential that the male citizens of this community understand that you have paid the price of trying to set Joe Smithers and Ken Sweeney at odds—and of having caused Miss Rhodes to run away.”
The inch-thick rattan flashed down pitilessly, and Miss Reynolds writhed even more violently against the stout leather straps than Alice had done earlier that day in the schoolroom. The stout waist strap accentuated the movements of the teacher’s bottom, surging up and down within the narrow compass permitted by the pinioning leather.
Shaw liked to cane the more experienced girls of his household severely, on the premise that it would save them even sterner lessons if they corrected their faults in good time. His first young lady, Miss Stella Reynolds, who should, Shaw clearly thought, have known much better, received the strictest thrashings of all.
“Please, Joseph… please, sir,” she sobbed, but he counted out the full twenty-four in silence except for her cries of agony, the creaking of the horse as she struggled over it, and the sound of the cane’s justice—the whistle th
rough the air and the crack across the naughty feminine bottom.
“You will stay like this, Stella,” Shaw said grimly once he had finished and his young lady lay limp and spent over the wooden frame, “until I have seen the search party off. Then I shall return and fuck your bottom to finish your lesson. In the meantime…”
Thomas watched Shaw move to the side of the empty parlor and fetch from the cabinet a stout phallus of black India rubber—one with a taper and a flare at its base, to prevent the miscreant from expelling it from her anus. This he imposed upon Miss Reynolds’ backside with a minimum of lubrication from the little vial of oil kept ready in the same cabinet with the anal trainers. The young woman’s head reared back, her dark hair threshing from side to side, and she moaned pitifully as she felt the device push into her smallest opening. Nevertheless her master seated the plug firmly in her tiny ring despite her desperate clenching, until only the base, sweetly peeping out between her well-whipped hind-cheeks, showed the place where Shaw would later impose his cock. Her rosy cunt, down below, kept just as bare as her pupils’ by her master’s decree, displayed the evidence of Miss Reynolds’ helpless arousal at his strict correction, but Thomas knew it would win her no mercy when Shaw returned.
The young ladies of the establishment had gone up to bed very early and without supper, to ponder their own role in allowing Alice’s escape, for it was laid down in Miss Reynolds’ rules that the girls must take responsibility for one another’s whereabouts at all times. They would receive spankings from Shaw, one and all, before they got into their nightgowns. Already they awaited the hand of justice, bent over the ends of their narrow beds with their skirts up and their drawers down.
Joe and Ken had gone to the bunkhouse to organize the search party. Thomas could hear the men assembling in front of Shaw’s house now. They had perhaps an hour of daylight in which to track the girl.