by AnonYMous
CHAPTER thirteen
It was decided between Arabella and myself (so runs Pearl's narrative) that we would deal with the girls separately and not in visible concord with one another. Thus both Grace and Susan would each be left free to think what they wished of us, and I had no doubt that such would be the nature of their experiences that they would be unlikely to indulge in confessions to one another until much time had passed.
I recognised in Grace—as did Arabella—a stubborn case. Being just above medium height and with long flowing hair, she had such a figure as would rival the statuary of any of the Italian master sculptors. Her legs were long and superbly tapered, her breasts like full-grown melons and her bottom a perfect peach of delight, being so deeply cleft that its springy cheeks could ensnare a stiff prick firmly between them, once she was taught and tutored.
I intended to stable her—knowing that there was no other way to deal with her—though it took some persuading on my part to inveigle her to the stable at dusk, which I judged the best time for her initiation. Some bribery in other directions was requisite in the manner and I finally settled upon a farm worker of good aspect and sturdy loins who for a couple of sovereigns (and all the delight he was to have) would do as he was told.
“What is to do in the stable, then?” Grace asked me as we proceeded hence.
“There is a young filly who is restive. I thought between us that we might calm her and settle her,” I replied glibly.
“Oh, I know little enough about horses,” she made to say and would have turned back had I not insisted that someone must accompany me. Making further demur about the matter, she was nevertheless persuaded to. The stable at that hour had either a cosy aspect or a slightly forbidding one, according to one's thoughts at the time. Grace evidently having no heart for such a jaunt would have again turned back even as we approached the doors, saying pettishly, “Oh, I can hear nothing.”
“There will soon be much to be heard,” I rejoined truthfully enough and, taking her by the elbow, guided her within where my enlisted accomplice lay already in waiting. I do not doubt that she apprehended instinctively some danger then, but the very moment that the threshold was passed, her ensnarement was complete. To a wild cry from her, I pinioned her arms while the labourer, Fred, springing from the wall against which he had flattened himself, blindfolded her swiftly and then secured her held wrists with a strong binding of cord.
“Oh! what are you at? My God, what IS this?” shrieked Grace, being bundled now to a bale of straw which had been placed in readiness for her.
“Close the doors!” I snapped to Fred while bending Grace well forward so that her mouth was buried in the straw and her bottom reared well for our endeavours. Pressing down upon her shoulders, I then saw to it that Fred upped her skirt and wreathed it securely about her waist—all this to the wildest of cries from Grace who clearly had not even been uncovered to her drawers in the presence of a male before.
“You shame me! Oh, my God you will pay for this, you beasts, you beasts!” screeched she while Fred attended to the ties of her white cotton drawers. At their falling I shared his gasp of admiration, for never was a more desirable bottom unveiled—to say naught of the bewitching columns of her stockinged legs which supported her glorious moon. “I will DIE!” screamed she—her voice but partly muffled by the straw, and brought to a horrified halt as I accorded her a very sharp SMACK indeed on her bared bottom.
“Die, is it, Grace?” I laughed, “Why, my girl, your bottom is in full bloom to be unveiled and for what it is about to be accorded. I have no help for it than to put you to it in this way and will not regret it for a moment. Your dear Mama would have you inducted, my sweet, for there is no other path for you to pleasure than this. Fred—hand me that schooling whip!”
“AH! I dare you! Oh, you beast, your horrid beast, who is this awful man looking at my shame? I shall see you in prison if you whip me! Pull up my drawers—release me! Oh, help me, someone!”
“I am about to help you, my pet—I! Keep her shoulders well down, Fred, for the bale is at a perfect height for it.”
And indeed it was, for with the upper part of her body laid across its top, Grace's long shapely legs were kept at full stretch and so her naked bottom with its alluring cleft and a peeping of dark cunthairs beneath, was orbed to perfection.
“No, no, no, NO!” came her wild shriek as I stepped slowly back and measured my distance. It would not be the first time I had used the schooling whip which requires a much-practised twist of the wrist to make it most effective. I intended only using the very tip of course—as Grace discovered in a matter of a second or two as the scorching of it made itself feel like a bee-sting on her bulbous right cheek.
“NEEE-OW-OOOOOH!” came her shrilling cry, but I gave her no time to recover from it than I- had accorded the same salute to her left hemisphere. Fred—standing so close by her—was afeared, I think, that the long uncoiling whip would somehow catch him for he wore an expression of mingled apprehension and pleasure, yet he was in no danger whatever as soon enough he learned. I had judged my distance to the inch, as one must in such exercises and had given Grace only her preliminary. By moving just six inches closer I could so snarl the leaping whip that some six to eight inches would sear across her glorious bottom.
“STO-HO-OP it this MOMENT! Oh, my God, NO! Let me UP!” screamed she, all unaware of my insidious approach as I viewed the two pink spots which the first strikes had left and which other and more practised damsels would have received as a distinct pleasure for they produce a positively sparkling fire. Grace, however, was to receive more than that, as she now discovered at the first real laying of the plaited leather across her writhing orb which brought a shriek such as might have lifted the rafters.
“You BEE-EE-EAST!” she sobbed, “oh, you will kill me!”
“No, my pet, I mean to enliven you,” I replied, remarking with my searching eyes the distinct protuberance which had made itself visible in Fred's rough trousers. I had already made it my business, of course, to examine his penis in a goodly and upright condition and knew him fair for his intended task.
“CRA-AAAAACK!” Ah, what a satisfying sound a well-placed whip does make across a yielded bottom! It is to be remembered, of course, that I was still but giving her a small measure of it as regards length, for to have used the schooling whip in all its majesty would have been undoubtedly cruel. It might be said, of course, that by so indulging myself I WAS being cruel, but having years past taken the whip myself in such a fashion I knew full well how the cushioning effect of the female bottom absorbs the sting. True, its effect is felt for a moment or two as a fierce burning, but that diminishes very rapidly provided the required wrist action is used, for this causes the leather to skim the ardent female globe rather as a skier mounting a crest.
The cries and moans that emanated from Grace now as I proceeded swishing the long-reaching leather this way and that would have indicated that she was suffering the pangs of hell whereas—had she but known it—I was heating her up for the divine moments that were shortly to follow. As hot-eyed as any lusty male might have been as he held Grace pinned and observed the wild and salacious wrigglings of her hips, Fred had already managed to unveil his long thick pego in anticipation of its entry.
Within a further minute and to diminishing cries from the over-proud young lady, I observed that her nether orb was already sufficiently well-streaked and reddened to require such cooling as only the male organ can render. Her sobs and wailings were piteous indeed, for now and again I gave her a particularly sharp one, sweeping the coiling whip right under her bottom so that she was forced to reach up on to her toes while her cries rippled and spread all about the stable walls.
“I can stand no more—no MORE!” she shrieked, raising her head briefly while Fred's strong hands bore down upon her shoulders.
“Very well, my dear, then the moment of your salvation is nigh. You know not who holds you—only his name. He is, however, furnished with a
s big a cock as you are likely to encounter in the next few weeks, and you are about to take it, my girl.”
“I will not—I will not! How dare you whip me and then dishonour me! Oh, Mama, Mama, MAMA!”
“Were your dear Mama here, Grace,” I said coldly, “she would wish you to comport yourself rather better than you are doing.” So saying I dropped the whip and, signalling to Fred to hold her down as firmly as ever, stood immediately behind her and cupped her hot, wriggling globe as best I could in my palms. How silky and firm she was and how the cheeks throbbed! A gritting howl of course came from her which was rapidly choked-off by a firm SMACK that I immediately accorded her.
“Be QUIET, Grace!” I snapped above her mewings while her nubile hips endeavoured to swing her scorched derriere away from my encroaching palms. Nothing would avail her now, however. Resting my left hand upon her haunches—for the magnificence of her curves made them no less than that—I glided my other down and cupped the downy bulge of her nest which I found to be as moist as I had expected. “Put your hand over her mouth, Fred,” I instructed, for I wanted no high screams at this particular juncture. Rubbing the heel of my hand suavely under the rolled lips of her quim and feeling the impending ooziness there, I withdrew it after a long, amourous moment and—wetting my forefinger in my mouth—I inserted first the tip within her resetted bottom hole and moved it about a little.
Grace's response was to buck wildly, but this suited her purpose little and mine all the better, for one slight rearward movement of her proud, hot cheeks sufficed to lodge my finger in her to the first knuckle, whereat her thinly-pitched squeals sounded even through Fred's clamping fingers. Allowing her no leeway whatever, I then pressed my left hand into the small of her back and so in the main prevented the attempted squirming of her hips while working my digit back and forth until she received in slow in-and-out motion its entire length. Tight indeed she was in that narrow, silky channel, but this mainly by compression of her muscles which she would learn soon enough to relax.
“Missus—can I have her that way?” whispered Fred hoarsely, for country folk as I well know are given to a good deal of buggery in the seclusion of their cottages. It provides pleasure without unnecessary fruitions, so to speak, and many a young wench's rosy complexion and bold bottom is owed to this ancient game of Venus.
“No, you may not, for it is reserved. Withdraw your hand slowly from her mouth now while I keep my finger up her, for if she howls again or protests she will know the whip's snapping twice over again.”
“HOOOO-AAAAAR!” came then from Grace in one long bubbling moan as her mouth was freed and my finger remained inexorably tight up her delectable rear. “Grace!” I uttered warningly, and at that she clawed feverishly into the straw and moaned, but otherwise made no further outcry. I saw some future for her then and slowly withdrew my ensheathed digit while giving Fred the nod for which he had now long waited. Before Grace could properly sense our movements, I had quickly stepped to one side and he was upon her, his uprodding cock finding immediately its intended haven between her rolled lovelips. Simultaneously I seized the nape of her neck and to a long, wailing cry of apparent despair, Grace received in one slow, upward lunge the entirety of his throbbing manroot until the hot bulb of her bottom rested into his belly and his big balls nudged her well-nested quim.
“Take it OW-OW-OUT! Oh my God, he cannot—cannot—A A A A A A RG H!”
Doughty stallion as he proved to be, Fred kept it a-throbbing full up her for a full minute the while that I had her secured. I knew this gesture to be of signal importance in the conquering of a proud young female, for her own inner nature would now in a short while overcome her scruples. Sobs resounded from her as Fred then at last began to ream her. His cock emerged glistening with her hapless juices at every long, plunging stroke which brought her nether cheeks to smack forcibly against his belly. I had counselled him in this also beforehand, for as relentless as I had been in my treatment of Grace yet I needed her now—and indeed wanted her now—to receive the full pleasure of his piston.
“No-ho-ho!” Grace continued to sob and endeavoured to jerk her hips all about, though I saw this as a disguise for the pleasure she was absorbing. With my free hand then I began to stroke her long soft hair, murmuring to her that this was but her initiation and that unbounded joys would follow. Perceiving that I was now being tender with her, she began to sob in quite another fashion.
“Still your hips a little and let him rod you—come, dear—take the pleasure—what a fine cock he has, has he not—your future Papa's is of equal merit, as you will discover. Ah, you are panting now! Does it not stir you? Are you not on the very brink of coming, my pet?” So on and on I talked all softly to her, bending my lips to her ear and even running my tongue within which in moments of amourous play can produce a delightful sensation.
Softer whimpers broke from her then and indeed she stilled the otherwise incessant rolling around of her hips and began to breath softly if fretfully as the most succulent sounds emanated from the conjunction of their parts, by which of course I mean the juicy, sibilant noises that produce those tiny squelches which are the very music beloved surely by all devotees of amourous combat.
Grace's shoulders then began to quiver and her face hid itself in the quick cupping of her hands, for though her wrists were bound she was free to move her arms. Sensing her thus at a peak of pleasure as Fred's pego rammed back and forth, I deftly untied her bonds while he, rasping out a grunt and a groan, worked his charger in her to the full and commenced pumping his sperm in her, jet upon jet, to which she wriggled wildly and freely until all was done and the sodden member—still proudly thick and long— was withdrawn and dribbled its tribute in a snail's trail down her thigh. In her turn, Grace quivered and was still.
At that, I thrust my hand within the pocket of an apron I had earlier donned, fished out the coins of his earnings and, thrusting them into his eager hand, motioned him to make a retreat. Perhaps fearing retribution from Grace whose blindfold I then began to undo, he fled, buttoning up his trousers as he went. She, hearing this, rolled over and would have slipped to the rough ground had I not caught her.
“Oh, who was that? Who WAS it?” she moaned.
“One of no account, my sweet, but one whose manly cock has served you well. Why, your lovely nest is pulpy with his sperm,” I murmured, cupping it fondly and drawing her lips so swiftly under mine that she was taken quite by surprise.
“Oh, how you whipped me—I hate you,” she sobbed to my lips, but I was not fooled.
“Young women such as you desire to be taken thus, however hidden may be your thoughts, Grace. Think on it and you will know that to be true. You wish to be made to do what you feel is exceedingly naughty to do. Had I not whipped you, you would never have surrendered, and certainly not to Mr. Maudsley's prick, as now you will.”
“Oh, what? I could not! Poor Mama! No, never!” Standing up quickly though on the shakiest of lovely limbs, she managed to repair the fallen state of her drawers while gazing at me with a mixture of wonder and resentment such as I had well expected.
“You will do as you must and as the path of fate ordains. This your Mama knows as well as I. Should he come to you in your bed, you will raise your nightgown to him and be dutiful.”
“I will not, I will not, and you shall not whip me for it either!” sobbed she, though I no longer heard any deep sorrow in her cry. From being totally stubborn and proud she had unwittingly become half willing and knew not in her mind whether to move forwards or turn back to her former state.
Taking her hair at the back in a sudden grip and so drawing her lovely face under mine so that she winced, stumbled and was forced to clutch me, I seized her chin with my free hand and breathed upon her lips such promises of libertine pleasures as she had never thought to hear. To each she endeavoured to shake her head, her eyes full wild, but my grip upon her was inexorable. Finally, I released her so suddenly that she fell back, which gave me a moment to retrieve the fallen
whip and bring it smartly around the tops of her thighs. With a maddened shriek she leapt back.
“Into the house with you, Miss!” I thundered and at that she appeared to quail—or else saw thankful refuge there—and ran to the door, rubbing her thighs and I quick in her wake. It was by now dark and her stumbling figure preceded me across the paddock to where the lights of the mansion gleamed their yellow invitation. I had not finished with her yet, nor her hypocrisies.
She little knew, in any event, what awaited her within.
CHAPTER fourteen
Arabella—now picking up once more my tale—must confess certain omissions in my narrative which shall now be filled in plain. Following fast upon the seduction of sweet Susan, some conversations between Pearl and myself brought matters to a head, as I shall explain, for they preceded in essence at least the nuptial ceremony. Certain theories had been formed in my mind and in Pearl's which I was minded to put to the test as much as she. Full knowing, therefore, what was afoot in the stable—from whence no cries could be heard through the doors and windows of the house—I waited within in the company of Catherine, Mr. Maudsley, and Susan.
Susan, of course, was all of a guilty flutter at being put to the presence of both her Mama and her future Papa within but a day of her conversion, but this was an act of deliberation whereby in concord with Pearl I sought to burst the bubble, as it were. Naught being said Of the absence of Pearl and Grace, I saw to it as well as a guest might that Catherine was well filled with wine and that Susan had several tipples herself. This, causing the latter to giggle and become flushed, Catherine would have quietened her and sent her to bed. At this, however, I intervened.
“May she not sit upon Mr. Maudsley's lap and kiss him goodnight first?” I asked. At this, Susan put her finger in her mouth to prevent more giggling, as I suspect, while as for Catherine she attempted to put on a worried mien.