by Emily Tilton
“Sir?” she whimpered.
“Yes, sweetheart?” Joe said. She heard the smile in his voice, perhaps at the way she had addressed him properly.
“Will you send me to the bunkhouse?”
Alice heard him exhale sharply through his nose, but she couldn’t decide whether it indicated surprise, or amusement, or perhaps a little of both. Joe didn’t reply for a long, long moment, but during that moment his fingers became urgent upon her clitoris, while his left arm held her securely in place, so that Alice writhed over his thigh, urgent little cries coming again and again from her throat. Her hands, lying inert on either side of her face, balled into little fists, opened, closed again, as her master commanded her body beyond her ability to control it.
A problem Joe Smithers can solve.
Then he spoke, and Alice could tell from the slowness and levelness of his words that her physical response to his touch, as his first reply to her question, had told him exactly what he needed to know.
“Yes, sweetheart, I’m afraid I’ll have to. You need it very much, don’t you?”
Alice gave a wild cry, then, and spent under his insistent fingers, bucking against his arm in back and his leg in front, utterly dominated by her natural man. In her mind all the men of the bunkhouse fucked her, in every place a cock could go, until she could only lie over the bench and take man after man in her bottom, while they exclaimed about how very fuckable Miss Alice Rhodes had turned out to be.
“Yes, sir… oh, yes, sir… and… and I need…”
But Joe had figured it out before she could even manage to say it, and he had started to spank her, as Alice started to scream.
Later she lay still, over his knee, face in the soft quilt, and Joe rubbed again, so gently it made her moan like a dove calling her mate, low and continuous, the quiet indication of her need satisfied and yet also reawakened.
“You’ve been very naughty, haven’t you, sweetheart?” he asked so softly she could hardly hear his voice.
“Yes, sir,” Alice whispered to the bed.
“You’ll keep being naughty, won’t you?” Again she heard him smile, somehow, and her heart filled with love as she wondered how that could be.
“Yes, sir,” she confessed.
“That’s good. Because I couldn’t bear to have to stop spanking you.”
Alice giggled at that, astonishing herself both with the sound and with the lighthearted feeling that accompanied it. She didn’t know how she could, after everything, after the way her bottom still hurt so very much from her punishment.
Joe gathered her into his arms, then, and lay both of them down on the bed, wrapping her up in the quilt, with a blanket over it, while he struggled out of his trousers and down to his shirt. Alice felt her face turn red, but she couldn’t help looking down to see, and she saw, just as she had hoped, that her master was very hard.
“Sir?”
“Yes, Alice?”
“Couldn’t you… I mean…”
Again he knew what she meant, what she needed, without her saying it. Perhaps he had noticed her looking, and that made the heat in her cheeks worse, but she wasn’t sorry she had asked, because she felt so very needy now, down there where his cock should go.
“You’ll take me in your mouth in a moment, and I’ll spend there, sweetheart. I won’t fuck you until tomorrow, though, because even if I’ve promised to leave with you, if we must do that, I want to obey the elders’ wishes as long as I can, when I can. I couldn’t let them take you away from me tonight, but we can wait for me to take your virginity until tomorrow.”
Alice bit her lip and frowned. She wanted to beg him, for though the idea of having her first fucking be in front of the town made her cunt clench between her thighs, she wanted him now, and his refusal made her feel rebellious for the first time since she had said in the Sioux village that she meant to stay there.
“Please, Joe?” she said, hardly even meaning the please and barely noticing that she had stopped calling him sir.
She expected him to reply with tenderness and persuasion, and at the mere thought of that sort of response the defiance grew in her chest, the angry retort and the gnawing doubt that perhaps they would have to give her to Ken Sweeney after all returning.
But Joe said in a stern voice, “No, Alice. I’ve made the decision. Now you had better scoot down the bed and suck my cock. I don’t want to hear your protests any more, and so you’ll be much better off with a mouth full of my hardness than a bottom even sorer than it is now.”
In that moment, rebellion died in Alice forever, she felt. She obeyed, eyes cast down to the penis she must please. She took it in her mouth, and felt Joe’s hand on her neck, keeping her at her shameful task.
Forever? she thought as he moved his hips to thrust in and out, grunting softly in pleasure and making Alice feel proud to be able to make him feel so good, though his cock filled her mouth so very full. The tiniest spark of resistance flared, at the way he had so brusquely silenced her with his manhood.
No, not forever.
Chapter Twenty
Elder Shaw brought the meeting to order.
The gavel, brought all the way from England, where Dr. Brown had bestowed it upon the elders as a parting gift, sounded loudly three times upon the wood of the rostrum. On the polished wood of the ornate hammer were engraved images of sexual congress in accordance with nature: on either side men carved in bas relief bent their girls over and had them vigorously from behind. Along the shaft Elder Shaw held, subtly wrought with gentle curves and slender veins into the shape of an erect phallus, Dr. Brown had caused to be engraved the motto he had suggested for the town, which the elders had eagerly adopted:
Ad Luxum Natura Vim Viris Dedit Sicut Cunnos Puellarum.
Nature gave men strength, just as she gave them girls’ cunts, for pleasure.
Something in Thomas’ public school education, in the way the masters of Winchester had made the learning of Latin so very painful, ensured that every time he thought of this motto his cock gave a leap. It might represent the least salacious thing one encountered in Brownsville, but in its obscenity, though mild, being couched in the ancient tongue it seemed to capture the ideal Thomas held for his community: a respectable town where girls were trained for the pleasure of natural men and then enjoyed in common according to their masters’ wishes—a community where a town meeting could never be boring.
“This special meeting of the male citizens and young ladies of the town of Brownsville, Nebraska, will come to order,” Shaw said in a stentorian voice that might have done credit to the Roman curia.
He stood at the rostrum placed in front of his empty armchair: Thomas and Elder George sat in their own armchairs to either side, George on his right hand and Thomas on his left. Before them, on the other side of the rostrum, rose three special town benches, upholstered in stout leather and well padded for the comfort of those fucked or whipped over them.
The men of the town had built them to Dr. Brown’s specifications, right after they had built the meeting house itself, to match the town benches they had already built for the bunkhouse—the very first building to rise in Brownsville, and the place where the acts of congress that had inaugurated the town had occurred, over those same benches. Thomas could never look upon these, in the meeting house, or the ones in the bunkhouse, without remembering that night, when he had taken Miss Sally Treadway’s maidenheads in front of his fellow cocksmen.
Sally had sucked his cock by then many times, as they fared forth from England across the Atlantic, and as they had traveled by train to the site chosen for the town. But Dr. Brown had advised, when assigning the lovely girl to him at his college in Westmoreland, that her maiden blood should represent the symbolic sacrifice that the ancients found necessary to the founding of a city.
“You have your virgin sacrifices everywhere, as well as poor Romulus, you know,” the doctor had said. “We should ensure that as many virgins as possible lose their maidenheads upon the founding
of Brownsville, but Miss Treadway’s will be the most important, since you are an elder and she will be the first young lady to belong to you by right of the phallus, assigned by me.”
Thomas had frowned a little at first. “Surely that is not… well, natural, Doctor—at least insofar as I understand how you have defined the word.”
Dr. Brown had chuckled. “You have me there, I suppose, Thomas. But such rites represent the very first step in the founding of civilization upon the base of nature—the initial forming of the civitas, the city, by consent of the cives, the citizens—from where else will civilization come? The universality of the founding sacrifice suggests that nature herself has perhaps graven upon the hearts of men the need to find community in the shedding of an innocent victim’s blood. How fortunate that we natural men have such a convenient way to do it—one that tends toward the pleasure of all: he who mounts, she who is for the first time mounted, and the community who may watch with the natural lust that accompanies all such moving sights.”
Then, a little to Thomas’ surprise, he had grown expansive, turning also to Shaw and George, who had stood by listening with great interest as the doctor had proposed that Sally Treadway be fucked in cunt and anus, for the first time, as the central event of the town’s inaugural assembly.
“Yes, every maidenhead to be taken in our little town should have its final moment witnessed by the whole community. I refer to vaginal and anal congress, you understand.”
The three elders had nodded, for of course a principal tenet of the doctor’s treatise, one that appeared very prominently in the section concerning practical applications of his doctrine, held that the first use of a girl’s mouth for the spending of a natural man’s seed, though some might find in it a sort of defloration, should be regarded as a lesser act of possession.
The place on her body, Dr. Brown had written, where oral congress occurs is distant from the zone nature has set aside for the man’s most important sexual use of her. I have termed this bodily region, the area between a girl’s waist and her knees, the ‘phallo-disciplinary zone,’ because it is the place best suited both to enjoying and to chastising a woman. The mouth, on the other hand, being outside the phallo-disciplinary zone, can safely be deflowered at any time the natural man finds it convenient to climax, once he has established his right of the phallus over its charming owner, her ruby lips closing pleasurably around the thrusting shaft until the natural man has found his satisfaction.
Thus Miss Sally Treadway’s cunt and anus had been saved until the bunkhouse and its town benches were built, though many was the time when, held in his arms in their cabin aboard the Oceanic and even in the narrow bunk in the Pullman carriage on the train, she had softly begged him to make a woman of her. Blushing, she had let him strap her wrists, waist, and knees, to the bench fitted out with all the restraints of Dr. Brown’s design, in front of the dozen men and six other young ladies, all naked, who made up all of Brownsville. Bravely she had bit her lip as Thomas at last thrust his phallus through her hymen, while all present cheered the sight of the maiden blood that would slake their town’s foundations and, they hoped, make it prosper.
Now, standing before that prosperous town, Shaw said, “We are met here principally to determine the right of the phallus over one Miss Alice Rhodes, lately come to our town in unusual circumstances.”
Beyond the town benches were placed the much simpler ones, running across the hall rather than up and down it as the special ones did. These were much longer, too, of course, for on them sat the citizens and the young women of the town, the citizens to Thomas’ right and the girls to his left. The cocksmen wore their best go-to-meeting clothes. The young ladies had changed in their special vestibule into the knee-length, diaphanous robes chosen by the elders as female meeting clothing. Pastel shades covered all these robes but for the ones worn by Miss Alice Rhodes and Miss Irma Fenton, who sat on the front bench, by the aisle, clad in red for their deflorations.
Thomas thought perhaps that as one owning the title of Elder, and the two lovely young ladies that came with the rank according to the bylaws of Brownsville, he should find the sight of the town’s thirty-four young ladies in their sheer, lacy robes less enchanting. It never failed to make him a little giddy, though, and he had to confess that he thought it would probably move even Dr. Brown himself. Sixty-eight lovely breasts, with sixty-eight sweet nipples of every size and every shade from brown to strawberry pink, practically all of them at attention and tenting the fabric of their negligees very sweetly.
Alice’s and Irma’s nipples certainly poked delightfully out, the former girl’s pink and small, the latter’s brown and the size of silver dollars.
The seats on the other side of the aisle from the young ladies who would today go over the benches were empty. Joe Smithers and Ken Sweeney waited in the men’s vestibule, in their cocksmen’s robes of black, another custom carried across the sea from Dr. Brown’s establishments in London and Westmoreland. As Thomas fixed his eyes on Alice and Irma, he watched both of them, in succession, give quick looks backward, toward the door through which their new masters would emerge, as if hoping to see it open so that they could gain a glimpse of a prospect that thrilled and frightened them in equal measure.
“Miss Alice Rhodes and Miss Irma Fenton, please rise,” said Shaw.
The girls had, in accordance with Dr. Brown’s principles, received only the most general information concerning what would now befall them. They knew they would be fucked upon the benches they saw looming in front of them, fitted out with straps to secure their charms in place for their masters’ use. It would hardly be possible to keep that knowledge from the girls of Brownsville, especially since even the virgins were required to attend the first part of the meeting. They would leave with Miss Reynolds before the elders bound Alice and Irma to the benches, but Dr. Brown had approved heartily of each maiden of Brownsville knowing that she would be deflowered that way without understanding exactly how she would receive her natural man’s erect penis for the first time.
Trembling a little, lower lips caught between their pearly teeth, the girls rose.
“Miss Alice Rhodes, originally of Boston, Massachusetts, arrived in Brownsville under very unusual circumstances,” Shaw began. “Though she did not come to us in the way the rest of you young ladies did, through the careful selection process given us by Dr. Brown, Mr. Joe Smithers was able to determine nearly as soon as she had arrived in his cabin, with the help of Miss Mary Jones, that Miss Rhodes is a naturally submissive young lady. We elders, in particular Elder Hilton, confirmed this judgment through a thorough sexual inspection, and Miss Rhodes as most of you know was delivered into Miss Reynolds’ care for training in preparation for the elders to determine which of our male citizens should have the right of the phallus over her.”
He paused, and looked around the meeting, and in particular at the male citizenry, as if to make certain the loyalty of the cocksmen lay with the elders, as it should. Thomas could see in their uneasy eyes that some of the men might well side with Ken despite what had happened the previous night. The man might have been building support in the bunkhouse all through the night, Thomas reflected.
“Miss Rhodes has been judged ready for first coitus by the elders, now, in light of the unfortunate incident yesterday of her going missing. Mr. Smithers has punished her properly for that infraction, and she will receive further public punishment when he decides she is ready, since in light of his rescue of her not once but twice, and of her evident affection for him, the elders now award him full masculine rights over her person.”
Shaw spoke this pronouncement in a matter-of-fact, rather than a dramatic way, clearly intending that it provoke a minimal reaction. Any applause from those who supported Joe’s claim would inevitably have sharpened the discontent on the part of Ken’s followers. A low murmur therefore was all that greeted the news that Joe would hold the right of the phallus over the girl he loved.
“Alice Rhodes,” Shaw co
ntinued more solemnly. “Do you aver that you are a young lady of age for sexual congress?”
“Yes, Elder,” Alice replied quietly.
“Do you acknowledge the right of the elders of Brownsville to award the sexual use of your body to a natural man of their choosing, since you have come to this community without other male protection?”
Now Alice’s voice was barely audible even to Thomas, and it quavered a good deal. “Yes, Elder.”
“Do you give unto Mr. Joseph Smithers your mouth, your vagina, and your anus for his penis’ pleasure, and that of the men to whom he may give you?”
A pause, as Alice swallowed. She had fixed her eyes on the town bench in front of her, between her and the rostrum where Shaw stood.
“Yes, Elder.”
“Do you consent to receive upon your bare bottom, and elsewhere as he chooses, the chastisement he shall give you to control your behavior, whenever he deems it necessary to punish you?”
The girl gave a little whimper at that, and gave another backward glance toward the door behind which Joe waited, but then she turned and looked the elder in the eye.
“Yes, Elder.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Alice listened to Elder Shaw announce that Irma Fenton would be awarded to Ken Sweeney, then to Irma make the same terrible promises Alice had just made. The words seemed to wash over her, not sending any meaning to her mind even though they echoed almost exactly the ones to which she had just paid such close attention.
She looked at the town bench in the middle, at the leather that covered it, at the leather straps affixed to it.
The straps that would affix her to it.
Miss Reynolds had strapped her to the punishment horse for her first birching, and Joe and Ken had bound her to the schoolteacher’s desk for her second.