Her Shameful Training

by Emily Tilton

  “Sir,” he ventured to say when he saw the philosopher gazing out the window of the railway carriage at the farms sliding past them, “do you think Miss Middleton did run away with Lord Stephen in the way Mrs. Mund supposes?”

  Doctor Brown turned to the former fusilier with a half-smile and a twinkle in his eye. “I can hear in the tone of your question, John, that you are nearly as skeptical as I am of the widow’s tale. Why, may I ask?”

  “Well,” John replied, “I noticed that she seems very satisfied with her explanation of the matter, but there isn’t much to back it up. She wants to be on the side of the angels, if you take my meaning, sir.”

  Doctor Brown nodded. “I do. Go on.”

  “She thinks she was right to spank Miss Middleton so often, and to make the girl show her little cunny that way, with her drawers down, before she took the hairbrush to her bottom, but I think that sort of thing is much more likely to make the girl run away—even without a lover. And if Lord Stephen is the sort of rake they say, and he had his man fuck the parlor maid... well, I believe Miss Middleton fled of her own accord, and Lord Stephen and his man took advantage.”

  “That, John,” Doctor Brown said with an air of satisfaction that made John feel even prouder, “is precisely what I believe myself.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Lord Stephen watched Joanna suck his prick, stroking her cheek gently as the weeping girl learned to please the penis. It was her third time with his manhood thrusting now gently, now more urgently in and out between her lips, and Joanna had not needed whipping before she opened her mouth to receive the fluted knob and the hard shaft. His lordship could thrust quite deep now without the girl gagging on the bulk of his erection, and the pleasure he felt in coming and going freely while he looked down upon the shameful act Joanna must perform upon her master had become so acute that he already felt close to spending down her throat and providing his new fucking piece with her third portion of his seed.

  Mark had trussed her again with her wrists bound behind her knees for Lord Stephen’s use of the pretty mouth, and laid her upon her side on the bed just as she had lain the first time she received the penis there. His lordship had merely to bend his knees slightly to present his cock for his young lady’s compulsory service, and he had the punishment strap ready to hand as well, should he need to discipline the girl for grazing his manhood with her teeth or not showing her gratitude when he spurted his essence inside her by obediently swallowing every drop he bestowed upon her.

  His lordship reflected that just as Anti-Brown suggested—and in this it seemed Doctor Brown’s opponent must only have sharpened advice given by the physician himself—he would have soon to train the girl to use her hands upon his cock as well. Anti-Brown criticized the doctor’s treatise in this respect for not providing enough specificity to the aristocratic natural man concerning the skills his young lady should be made to learn.

  It is well enough to say, Anti-Brown wrote, as Doctor Brown has done, that a submissive young lady should be taught how to stimulate the penis to climax in any way her master elects to train her. The reader of this so-called philosopher’s treatise is however left in doubt for example as to what manner of training is best for a girl’s hands, when it comes to her master’s desire to make her bring him to climax in his box at the opera. If one has dressed one’s young lady in a fine gown, and undertaken to show her off in society, knowing that the matrons titter behind their hands and discuss one’s wickedness, and one wishes to make one’s young lady do something shameful, one cannot after all command her to kneel before one at the opera and hold her head while thrusting deep. One must rather tell the girl to put her hand upon one’s lap and give one the manual duty of her station, only at the end lowering her face to one’s phallus and telling her to receive the seed as it spurts—and thus having one’s last few thrusts inside the girl’s mouth without exciting a scandal to bring down the government.

  Does Doctor Brown provide a natural man with any guidance, however, in training his young lady to use her hands in that essential fashion? No, indeed. I therefore adjure you, gentle reader, to begin a girl’s training with her hands bound behind her and to use her mouth that way. It tends to the growth in her heart of the respect and obedience due to you as her natural superior. Once you have established yourself as her lord in that manner, having often attained your climax over her tongue and down her throat, however, unbind her hands—ensuring that you or your servant have the means of chastisement nigh should the girl strike out at you in some way—and allow her to touch the penis. Lie upon your bed, and bid her kneel beside you, so that her pudenda and her buttocks are in reach, for reward and punishment. Command her to make you hard with her hands, and instruct her in the proper motion of her fingers, as you find most stimulating. Then, when you like, hold her head and spend inside her mouth as usual, or shoot your seed upon her face: both modes of enjoyment in his climax please your humble writer as he trains a fucking piece. I ask you, though, again, has Doctor Brown provided such guidance? No, indeed.

  Lord Stephen had read Anti-Brown’s treatise often enough that he could recall this passage nearly by heart as he moved more urgently inside Joanna’s charming little mouth, very close now to the acme of his pleasure. The sight of the shaft passing in and out of the place no proper young lady would consent to receive a suitor, where an exacting bridegroom would perhaps only put his manhood after threatening his bride with her first marital correction, drove him half-wild with arousal.

  “Look at me, Joanna,” he said. Her forehead deeply creased, her mouth struggling on the penis, she turned wide eyes upward. He had instructed her previously that she must close her eyes or keep her gaze upon his lap so as not to disturb his pleasure, but now he delighted to see the submission in the lovely blue orbs. He held himself in at three-quarters of his cock’s length, and said softly, “I shall unbind your hands, soon.”

  Joanna’s eyes went even rounder. For the entirety of the day and the night she had now spent in Lord Stephen’s tower room, she had had her wrists tied behind her with Mark’s leather strap. When the valet had released her from the trussed position with hands behind thighs, he had rebound them behind her back. Thus restrained she had used the commode, blushing furiously while master and man watched her make water, and then, back upon the bed, she had received bread and cheese, and sips of water and wine, from his lordship’s hand. Lord Stephen had wiped her lips both above and below, and Joanna had whimpered at the attention in each place, but more when the towel had lingered between her thighs.

  With his eyes locked on hers, and holding her head gently but steadily with his left hand, he thrust his hips slowly forward, to make her take nearly his whole cock. He loved the sight of the girl’s pretty nose in the dark nest of his pubic hair, especially as it reminded him of his wise decision to have Mark singe away Joanna’s own golden thatch the previous evening. With Joanna’s hands strapped together in front of her and Lord Stephen himself holding her knees apart as the girl lay upon her back at the edge of the bed, the valet had first used a small pair of shears to trim the sparse blonde fleece of the eighteen-year-old cunt, then moved a candle carefully between her creamy thighs. Joanna had trembled violently, but Lord Stephen had murmured an admonition to lie still in order that she not burn herself. Anti-Brown recommended this method of removing a young lady’s nether curls, and his lordship had always found it to answer very well.

  Not only does the practice have the copious evidence of Greek vases to sanction both its respectable antiquity and its abiding utility, but the expression upon the face of a girl undergoing her first pudendal depilation with the aid of a candle flame never fails to arouse a dominant man, as well as providing a helpful indication of the progress of her training. Further, not only does the sweet innocence of a cunt so prepared both entice the masculine urge to penetrate the virginal orifice and provide a welcome display of the girl’s compulsory readiness for coitus, but her own sensibility that her master has forbid
her even that modest covering, bestowed by providence upon bashful young ladies cannot but provide frequent, helpful reminders of her availability to the penis.

  His lordship’s eyes went from the shafting of Joanna’s mouth on his hard cock to the cunny his servant had so skillfully bared for him, where he moved the fingers of his right hand gently now. The thrilling smoothness of his young lady’s slightly plump outer lips, and even of the valley between her bottom-cheeks, where Mark had taken such care to remove the tiny hairs around the girl’s anus, made him swell even larger between Joanna’s lips and upon her tongue.

  She whimpered around the penis, a soft sound of need in confirmation of the power he had taken, the way his lewd caress had conquered her modesty.

  “You will spend with my prick in your mouth, now, Joanna,” Lord Stephen said softly. “Think about having it in your sweet young cunny. That will happen so very soon, now, and your bottom after that, and then you will belong to me entirely.”

  As he spoke, he moved his hardness steadily in and out of her mouth, making her take it deep in order that she would learn to serve that way before he allowed her to use her hands upon him. With his two middle fingers he pressed upon her tiny clitoris, moved it, now firmly, now gently up and down. With his thumb he entered the slick folds of her teenaged cunny, just to the place where his cock would open her the first time he enjoyed her there.

  Joanna cried out as the penis came and went, breathing desperately around his manhood her mouth open as wide as she could make it, to give him his way there, provide him with a pleasant place to fuck.

  “Good girl,” his lordship growled. “You shall spend, now.”

  As she obeyed, her body shuddering and stiffening into climax, Lord Stephen wondered why Miss Joanna Middleton’s pleasure interested him so much more than that of any of his other young ladies—and why, perhaps as a consequence and perhaps as a corollary of that attention to her bodily responses, Joanna’s training had proceeded to this point in a way rather different to the unfolding of his lordship’s enjoyment of her predecessors.

  He had not neglected to awaken his fillies’ young cunts to the ecstasy a skillful, dominant lover could bring. In this respect indeed Anti-Brown found an area of Doctor Brown’s ideas with which he could agree entirely: it seemed that the two authorities shared an appreciation of the role to be played by a natural man’s fingers and even his tongue—not to mention various devices fashioned in the shape of a phallus, to be applied to mouth, to cunt, and to anus as necessary—in educating a young lady in the merits of submitting to the phallus. Lord Stephen had accordingly spent a goodly amount of time with each of his girls training them to show their pleasure in his ministrations to those secret, wicked places of which they had learned to be ashamed, and he had rewarded them with climaxes for the delight they provided his cock nearly as often as he had corrected them with whipping for their faults in deportment.

  Miss Joanna Middleton, however, presented a different prospect in that something—some circumstances as yet unidentified by his lordship—caused him to take pleasure in her helpless enjoyment of his touch. Did it have to do with Mrs. Mund’s singular training of her with the hairbrush and the account of the woman’s experience of marital fucking? It must, but Lord Stephen could not discern whether Joanna’s employer had brought about a change in the girl herself, making her more delightfully submissive to his penis, or the story of Mrs. Mund’s lewd conduct with her innocent companion had caused him to treat her with more fascination as he awakened her to his masculine rights over her.

  Whatever the answer might be, it had produced at least one notable result that distinguished Joanna’s training from that of every other young lady he had fucked in his tower room before passing her along to others, after sharing her with Mark Shepard as a just reward for the valet’s assistance: Lord Stephen had not yet deflowered the girl.

  The spasms of Joanna’s climax left her body, and his lordship stroked her cunt gently now, up and down, to make the pleasurable aftershocks that would soon lead to a second spend for her, when he decided the time for that had come. He moved shallowly between her lips, just ensuring that she must keep his manhood inside her, and with his right hand he reached down to the leather strap that bound her wrists. With an expert motion of his fingers, he untied the knot.

  “Your hands are free, Joanna,” he said very gently. “The first thing you must do with them, if you would like another spend instead of a whipping, is to learn to use them for my pleasure. I wish you to hold my balls, now. Very gently. Weigh them upon your fingers and stroke them gently. That’s it. That feels very nice. Good girl.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Joanna’s mind whirled, her thoughts divided so violently into two opposed streams that she could hardly have told anyone who might ask who she was, exactly. With her eyes closed, she tried to obey the nobleman who had kidnapped her for his shameful pleasure, for the first time allowed to touch him in the intimate manner he had claimed the right to do to her so often since her waking in this strange chamber.

  She held the strange, wrinkly pouch in her fingers, and sensed from her master’s movements and from the thickness of his voice that her little caressing motions gave him great delight and made the thrusting of his hard penis in and out of her mouth even more pleasurable. Her jaw ached from having to keep it open for the driving of the cock, and she knew that if she protested she would receive the strap again until she showed herself ready once more to receive her master’s seed just as he liked to bestow it. Nevertheless, something in the way his lordship had freed her hands and told her what to do with them made Joanna want to move her fingertips gently around the little sack with its wiry hairs, to see if she could earn more of his praise, more of his touch between her thighs.

  At the same time, another part of her rebelled completely against this idea of compliance. That defiant element saw that despite the seemingly fundamental outrageousness of the notion that a man could train a modest young lady to conduct herself like a debased and degraded woman of pleasure, the nobleman had begun to accomplish just that. Joanna had her hands free, and held in her hand an area of the man’s anatomy that surely could be twisted to produce agonizing displeasure just as it could be stroked to give delight. Instead of biting the hard penis that claimed her mouth so arrogantly, and squeezing the balls, though, in hope of scrambling to the door and finding some path of escape, Joanna went on trying to please him.

  His lordship had not locked the door behind him when he entered to enjoy her, and his servant had not come with him on this occasion. If Joanna did not attempt to free herself from this room where they had kept her naked, and not even been content with that degree of humiliation but had taken away the golden curls that had covered her cunny, she would show this nobleman and his awful valet that Mrs. Mund had spoken no more than the truth when she had declared Joanna a lewd hussy whose naughty cunt would bring her to a shameful end.

  She could sense, even with only having had to yield her mouth twice before, that her captor’s climax had grown very near. He liked to hold himself just inside her mouth when he spent, the knob upon her tongue, and stroke her cheek as the seed spurted against the back of her throat, thick and warm and salty and a little bitter.

  “Use one hand upon the shaft, now,” he said. “Stroke it as you have seen me do.”

  Joanna had seen that, she realized: the nobleman liked to look at her through the mask while he stroked himself, liked to caress the smooth furrow between her legs and hold his cock, pumping it up and down as if to prepare himself for her mouth. She blushed at the thought, and her eyes opened, looking up before she remembered that she must not do that without permission. When she saw that he gazed directly back at her she feared for a moment that he would whip her, and to her dismay that made her cunny clench, and grow even warmer.

  But her captor smiled, and that pleased expression, together with a gentle circle of his fingertips upon the needy place he had taught her to call her clitoris mad
e Joanna obey him before the other part of her mind could put a stop to it. She took her left hand and wrapped its fingers gently around the hard length of his manhood as the nobleman moved it in shallow thrusts, still holding her head as if to teach her that even with her hands free she must take the cock as he liked to give it to her. Up and down she rubbed, surprised at its hardness and the way the silky skin moved.

  Her captor’s voice betrayed great pleasure, now—almost helpless pleasure, Joanna thought with a little thrill of accomplishment. “That’s it. Such a good girl... I will fuck your cunt so soon... so soon... and your little bottom, too... the hard prick deep in you, making a woman of Miss Middleton... just as she learned about over her employer’s knee... Get ready, now... I am spending.” He rubbed urgently between her legs, and that made her whimper around his penis and move her hand faster and faster, until he held himself still, the tip of his prick just between Joanna’s lips.

  As she felt the seed spurt, the two parts of her contemplated her master’s shameful words together with the power he had given her over his pleasure, by freeing her hands. If she had not had those spankings from Mrs. Mund, she wondered, would she feel the same need to vindicate herself? The submissive part of her wanted more of his hand, wanted even to feel the penis between her thighs—wanted to become a woman this way, for what else could a natural daughter expect?

  But that would prove Mrs. Mund right, would it not? The other part of her, her defiance and her independence, now forgave the weakness of her bodily need, for Joanna saw suddenly that by doing his shameful bidding, touching him the way he liked, making him spend helplessly in her mouth, she had gained this moment of ascendancy that she must now use.