by Emily Tilton
“Miss Alice Rhodes,” Joe said in his sternest tone, “come here, please.”
Behind him he heard Ken start to protest, “Now, Joe, what—”
A murmur had taken hold in the men’s section, too, and Elder Shaw rose and spoke loudly to quiet it, interrupting Ken.
“Order, please,” the elder said. Ken stopped speaking, but the men did not quiet fully down until Elder Shaw stepped to the rostrum and took the gavel, then banged it down.
“Order!” he said again, and with a final grumble the hall fell silent.
Alice still looked at Joe with wide eyes, as he still stood with his right hand on Mae’s arm and his face turned toward the girl he loved.
“Elder Hilton,” said the first elder, “would you please come forward and give your opinion on whether Mr. Smithers is in order to call Miss Rhodes to him, during this test of natural manhood?”
Joe looked at the third elder, whom the other two acknowledged to be the best scholar of Dr. Brown’s work despite being the last of them to arrive at the doctor’s college in Westmoreland. Elder Hilton’s face seemed unreadable at best and annoyed at worst, and Joe’s heart sank as he prepared himself to have his hopes dashed. Yes, he could discipline and fuck Mae, but he felt sure he would lose the test unless his bold gambit prevailed with the elders, and he could show them the sort of natural man he intended to be for his sweet Alice—the sort he knew within himself Dr. Brown would urge him to become.
Elder Hilton rose from his armchair and took a step toward the center town bench, looming over it in the English suit that set him apart from the cocksmen of Brownsville. Joe became acutely conscious in that moment of the double-edged sword the elders wielded: with their knowledge of Dr. Brown’s work and their English culture—along of course with the English money that had funded the building of Brownsville—the elders held a natural authority, but men like Ken Sweeney, if they became dissatisfied, could easily claim the loyalty of the newer cocksmen of the bunkhouse by calling the elders highfalutin’, foreign weaklings.
When the elder began to speak, though, Joe remembered why he, when still a longshoreman in New York, had been so ready to follow the man to the brothel and then to Nebraska. The elders, and Elder Hilton in particular, understood the need to strike a balance between old world and new in the formation of a natural way of life here on the frontier, one that had in it all the erotic mastery and submission the cocksmen and young ladies of Brownsville might require for the special kind of happiness Dr. Brown had intended when he had envisioned this utopia of discipline and fucking.
“I’m certain every cocksman here will agree with what I’m going to say, whether he’s read the doctor’s treatise once or twenty times—or even if he never read it at all, and only said he did so we would bring him here to a place where he could fuck as many sweet cunnies and lovely bottoms as he wanted.”
A roar of laughter burst from the men’s section at that, some of it obviously in acknowledgment of the truth of the elder’s words. Joe himself had learned to read—really read, rather than spelling words out on signs—from Dr. Brown’s book. He felt sure that though all the men would have honestly intended to do the same, or they would never have passed muster and gotten that precious train ticket to the West, more than a few had found the doctor’s prose too difficult.
Joe turned from Alice’s lovely, blushing face for just a moment, to judge Ken’s reaction to the elder’s words. To his satisfaction, he found the man’s face quite red with anger—the sight confirmed Joe’s impression that Elder Hilton had won the men over at least a little from their allegiance to Ken. Now the more difficult question remained, though, of what judgment the elder would give.
“But even though I’m sure you’ll agree with my opinion on the matter, just because you are all natural men who need no book-learning to know their masculine rights, that opinion is based on my study of Dr. Brown’s work, and my conversations with the doctor himself. So what I’m going to say comes both from nature and from study—which is exactly what the good doctor hoped would be true of every decision we would make here in America.”
Elder Hilton’s rhetorical gifts were considerable, and he had the town in the palm of his hand, now. A murmur of approval, rather than of discontent, went through the men. Though Joe now looked steadily at Alice, who gazed at Elder Hilton with rapt attention, he felt sure Ken’s face had gotten even redder.
It would all be for naught, though, if the elder declared Joe’s notion of summoning Alice to have gone against Dr. Brown’s theory, and—the elder seemed to be saying—against nature itself.
“Mr. Smithers,” the elder said, in a slow, but thunderous tone, “may absolutely call Miss Rhodes to his side to assist him in mastering Miss Burton.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Alice would have fainted, then, if Irma hadn’t held her up and whispered, “It’ll be alright. It’ll be alright,” in her ear. She managed to turn her eyes back from Elder Hilton to Joe, whose burning gaze she hadn’t been able to bear for longer than a few moments when he had first told her to come to him.
The expression on Joe’s face should perhaps have finished the job of rendering her unconscious, so much emotion did it send rushing through her heart, to her head, so much heat did it send rushing elsewhere, so much more shamefully. When the elder had announced that the challenge would involve Joe mastering Mae Burton, and when Joe had made no objection, Alice had thought her heart might break. To have Joe look at her that way, now, seemed to transform everything so completely that she thought she might lose her wits entirely.
But somehow, with Irma’s arm around her and the sight of Joe’s easy, confident smile in her eyes, the part of her that remained somewhere else, detached and observant, could ride above it all, and keep her own face smiling through the mist of unfallen tears that now came to her eyes. Practically the first thing she had seen Mr. Joseph Smithers do was fuck another girl’s bottom. Her terrible yearning, so confusing then, to have her own bottom fucked, now seemed to Alice almost familiar. She didn’t want it ever to become comfortable, exactly… any more than she wanted the act itself to become comfortable, for the thing that had called to the depths of her soul and the recesses of her cunt that night in Joe’s cabin had been above all the way Mary didn’t really seem to like having Joe’s big cock in her little bottom-hole, the way it made her cry out as he fucked her there, the way she nevertheless clearly needed it, just as Alice did.
Now she knew she needed the bunkhouse, and she knew Joe would send her there. If Alice needed that, then surely she needed to help Joe fuck Mae Burton, didn’t she?
“Miss Rhodes,” Elder Shaw said, “please go to Mr. Smithers, as he has requested. I concur with Elder Hilton.” He turned to address the men’s section directly. “Let it be known that as Dr. Brown himself says in his treatise, there are many paths of natural manhood. When we have witnessed tests of manhood in this hall on prior occasions, those challenges have all proceeded along the lines I am certain we were all expecting: the disciplining and fucking of a young lady over a town bench, with the elders deciding which man displayed more firmness of purpose and responsiveness to a submissive girl’s needs, balanced with the frank attention to his own masculine pleasure that marks the true natural man.”
The elder paused to look around. Alice had managed to rise on shaky knees during his address, but had stood at her place uncertainly, still holding Irma’s hand. “Go ahead, Miss Rhodes,” Elder Shaw said gently.
Then Joe spoke, in a stern tone that didn’t help Alice’s fluttering tummy, but drew her to him, chewing on the inside of her burning cheek. “Come here, Alice. I need you to see something.”
As Alice advanced, slowly but surely, and the whole town watched, Joe pulled Mae forward and lay the sweet girl over the bench to the elders’ right, face down and knees separated. Mae gave a little cry of surprise at the suddenness of Joe’s action, the way he manhandled her, the way he pulled her knees apart to straddle the bench before he made
her lie down. The sight made Alice gasp and whimper, but she kept coming forward.
On the other side of the hall, Ken Sweeney growled. Alice had no doubt that Ken was at heart a good, honorable man, who knew how to take care of a girl in every way even if he couldn’t love her the way Joe loved Alice, but as she looked at him standing naked next to Mary she no longer had any doubt to whom she belonged. She watched Ken strip Mary’s robe and place her in the same position over the town bench as Joe had done with Mae. He did it manfully and dominantly, but the frustration that now appeared in the bunkhouse manager’s gestures, the little bit of roughness that had come into his manner, made Alice look back at Joe and feel the confidence he exuded all the more strongly. Knowing that the confidence had come somehow from being allowed to summon Alice made her heart feel light despite the shame she still couldn’t help feeling to be advancing in her red peignoir toward the man who would take her virginity, to help him whip and fuck another girl.
The events of the test seemed to have taken hold of the meeting, and Alice imagined for a moment it would all now proceed without order: erotic acts in front of the townsfolk of Brownsville until all dissolved into sexual bedlam. Another kind of murmur ran through the men’s section, and the young ladies’ section, now, and one of the men on the second bench went so far as to call out across the aisle, “Darla, you come here, now, and suck my cock.”
To her surprise, though, and somewhat to the disappointment of the wanton fire in her veins, Elder Shaw banged the gavel on the rostrum. “Order, please. Order. The revel has not begun, cocksmen. Mr. Yount, you will have your fine prick sucked by your sweet young lady soon, I promise.”
A bark of laughter came from the man who had called for Darla, and some of the tension seemed to leave the hall as the rest of the assembly joined in. Joe and Ken had both turned to the elder now, and Ken seemed a little calmer than he had been a moment before. Alice looked at Mae on the bench in front of Joe, and Mary on the bench in front of Ken, and though at the sight her breath came in shallow pants that made her feel lightheaded, she could feel that the two natural men who both wanted Alice as their own had found a moment of equilibrium in each having a naked girl ready for discipline and pleasure.
“I shall declare,” the elder continued, “the first round to be concluded now that both young ladies are over the benches.” He glanced at the other elders to make certain they agreed, and received nods from each. “The irregularity of having Miss Rhodes summoned makes it a little more challenging to follow the usual order, but I believe the elders of Brownsville are, ahem, up for the task.”
More laughter, throughout the hall. Alice dared another glance at Ken, and saw to her mingled pleasure and dismay that his irritation seemed to have faded as the mood in the assembly eased. She wished him happy, but she had also found solace in his discomfiture because it had seemed to mean Joe would have an easier task in winning Alice for his own.
“Before we proceed, and Mr. Sweeney has the honor to begin the correction of Miss Jones, I wish to say that Dr. Brown never, I believe, intended that there be one right way, straight and narrow, for a natural man to master his young lady. As our town grows and changes to reflect the characters of all the cocksmen and submissive young ladies who join us here, the ways of natural manhood will become more and more various. I wish you all to understand, before I resume my seat and allow the lascivious fun to continue, that your elders will rejoice with you the more you find new ways to exercise your masculine rights and yield your feminine submission. That, I believe, is what we are seeing here today in this very special challenge.”
As the elder spoke, Joe put his right arm around Alice’s waist, and moved his hand down to her bottom, lifting the hem of the lacy robe and fondling her bare hind-cheeks possessively in the sight of the whole citizenry of Brownsville. Alice knew the marks of the birch still lingered there for all to see, and her face got so hot she thought the sun had burned through the roof of the meeting hall. Joe’s finger dipped between her cheeks, parted them, touched the tiny rose there, to tell Alice, she knew, that he meant to have his cock inside her little bottom very soon.
“Oh, Joe,” she whispered, looking at Mae face down on the bench and feeling strangely guilty that though Joe was supposed to be attending to another girl, he clearly wanted to hold Alice’s bottom more than he wanted to give Mae what she had coming. “Go ahead and whip that bottom first,” she whispered in his ear, “and fuck that pretty cunt. I’ll wait.”
She could hardly believe she had spoken the words aloud, but she knew she had won her natural man’s heart forever in the way he smiled so glowingly at her. She put her hand down, and stroked Mae’s bottom the same way Joe was stroking hers. Her pussy felt like it was on fire with her need to become a woman under her man’s pounding hips, but now she knew that this ceremony, the reenactment in a way of their first night with Mary in the cabin—but with a different conclusion—would make all right. Mae whimpered under Alice’s touch, and suddenly she realized that she had begun to stroke the lovely little bottom much the way Ma Gantner had stroked hers, too, teaching the bottom’s owner about what she needed and where she needed it.
The moment among the three of them had wrapped Alice up so thoroughly in its spell that when Ken’s voice rang out, speaking to Mary, she started, jerking her hand back from Mae’s round hind-cheeks with a new flow of heat to her face and down below. As Ken began to admonish Mary, Joe, though, didn’t stop taking shameful liberties with Alice’s backside, with her anus, even with her aching pussy and her needy clitoris: he ran a finger all the way forward so that Alice wobbled on her feet and gave a little moan, unable to help herself from moving her hips to try to ride Joe’s knowing hand.
Whether he realized that Joe hadn’t really given over attention to him or not, Ken seemed intent on continuing, and mastering Mary properly. Alice supposed, as she considered with the small part of her reasoning mind left to her by her lewd craving for Joe’s hands and Joe’s cock, that the natural men involved in this sort of challenge might well be allowed to take such liberties in order to keep their young ladies ready while the other contestant took his turn.
“Mary Jones,” Ken said sternly, “when were you last spanked?”
“Last Thursday, sir,” Mary said to the floor, hanging her head so that her beautiful red hair cascaded down around her face. Ken came around to stand in front of her, his hard penis standing proudly just above Mary’s head. He reached down and smoothed Mary’s hair over her right shoulder.
“Look at my cock, girl,” Ken said, and Mary raised her head. Alice couldn’t see the expression on her friend’s face, but she could imagine that mixture of shame and desire so well that her heart started to beat very fast. “You will suck as I whip you, to teach you your place here in Brownsville. Irma Fenton, please secure Mary to the bench, and then bring me the town strap.”
The sight of Mary desperately sucking Ken’s hardness as he brought the strap down over her back to whip her poor little bottom again and again made it impossible for Alice to stand without Joe’s arm around her waist, no longer naughty but simply comforting. The strap made her friend cry out around the big cock in her mouth. The strap went between Mary’s legs and whipped her adorable pussy so that she screamed her submission to the natural man who enjoyed her.
“Oh, no. Oh, no,” Alice found herself whispering over and over as the scene went on until Ken finally gave a grunt to warn the girl that he would spurt in her mouth, and then held himself in deep, looking intently at the mess of red welts he had left on poor Mary’s backside as the strap fell from his hand so that he could control the young lady’s head with a grip on both sides.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Thomas felt he couldn’t have been any prouder of his town, or of Joe Smithers in particular, if Brownsville had won the right to be Nebraska’s new capital and Joe its mayor. The elder’s heart had sunk when Ken Sweeney made the challenge, for Vic Rottner had pulled Thomas aside just before the town meeting t
o warn him of Ken’s efforts in the bunkhouse.
“He was up half the night,” Vic had said in a low voice right on the meetinghouse steps. “I think he got a lot of the bunkhouse men on his side. If he does decide to challenge, I don’t like Joe’s chances.”
But to Thomas’ joy—and, he could see from Shaw’s and George’s faces, to theirs as well—Joe had not only managed to find the perfect way to counter Ken’s wrath, but he had done it with care for the community, and even with an eye toward Dr. Brown’s work. Perhaps Thomas had put the case a little more strongly than it deserved, when he had risen on Shaw’s invitation to address the issue as the scholarly authority on the doctor’s ideas, but hadn’t he also invited the cocksmen to look into their own hearts and loins to find the superior justice of Joe’s claim?
“There, girl,” Ken said, once the climax had left his limbs. He kept his cock in Mary’s mouth, but withdrew it until only the head remained enclosed within her pretty lips. “You’re a good little cocksucker, and your master should reward you later.”
Shaw rose from his seat. “Well done, Mr. Sweeney and Miss Jones. Thank you. Miss Fenton, please release Miss Jones from the bench. Then you girls may return to your seats.”
A pause ensued, giving time for the townsfolk to whisper to one another about what they had just witnessed. Ken Sweeney certainly had the hallmarks of what Dr. Brown called the natural man in the rough. He took his erotic pleasures with the air of entitlement recommended by the doctor, not without thought for the pleasure of the young lady he enjoyed but with the clear idea that her sexual rewards depended on his satisfaction in fucking her. The step of not allowing Mary any gratification was a bold one for this test, but not without its basis in the theory upon which Brownsville had been founded: Elder George would certainly reward his second young lady later, when he fucked her during the revel.