Augustus and Lady Maude

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Augustus and Lady Maude Page 10

by AnonYMous


  Two stable-boys ran forward. The first of them slipped a broad harness strap round Maggie's waist-under her blouse and next to the bare skin. With this he fastened her very tightly on the rear bar across the shafts, obliging the stocky young blonde to bend over whether she wanted to or not. The second lad took each of her arms in turn and tightened the leather cuffs of the forward bar round her wrists. Mag was now in the posture which drew the attention of so many gentlemen to her as she laid out the polished saddles. Bending over with the curtains of lank flaxen hair hanging down, Maggie in her tightened jeans-denim presented the firm short length of her thighs and a pair of tautly rounded but fattened young buttocks. I must now confess my deceit, for which I trust your ladyship will forgive me. I had not gone ahead to the plantation but was watching the scene from a window overlooking the yard and opposite to that where Lord Augustus peeped. I could just see his outline behind the glass, a countenance so pale and anxious as he watched Maggie's predicament.

  My accomplice in all this was Jewkes the gamekeeper. In his youth he was the hangman's apprentice and deputed for a year to flog naughty young ladies whom the magistrates had sentenced. He, it was, who was to be Maggie's driver. Though the firm features of her fair-skinned face are bold and a little crude, despite the softening of her blond fringe, it was evident that the young stable-lads were very stimulated by her. Even if she is twenty-three-years old and somewhat their elder, one could see that they wanted to do all manner of things inside Maggie's knickers. The grooms withdrew and left the two boys to prepare her. One of the lads drew the collar-length of Mag's blond hair into a pony-tail, so that her face could be seen, and fastened it like this with a black velvet bow. At the same time he whispered in her ear, grinning with pleasure at the randy promises of what would be done to her. The other lad undid her pants at the waist and drew them off with Maggie's knickers inside so that she was now bare from waist to heels as she bent over the two bars. Her underpants were no more than cotton briefs. The lad held up the young blonde's knickers in front of her face and teased her a little.

  “A filly must have a proper bridle to complete her harness, Mag!”

  You may imagine how she tried to twist her face away. But they wadded the cotton into her mouth, still warm from its contact with her hips and seat, her loins and cunt. It was secured by the leather bit between her teeth which was fastened firmly by laces tied at her nape.

  Still it seemed that Maggie was getting off too lightly. One of the boys knelt behind her as she bent over the bars and eased open her robust pale thighs a little to smile upon the sight of the girl's warm and humid cunt-flesh. The other young spark pressed apart the firmly broadened pallor of Maggie's bottom-cheeks and grinned at what he saw between them. In all this they had a purpose. There is a certain pod which any young lady in the countryside dreads feeling in contact with her bare skin. She knows that the sharp little hairs of its seeds are impregnated with a maddening and virulent sting which will make her want to scratch and squirm without respite for several hours to come.

  It is the plant known in the tropics as pica-pica but referred to in England by the more homely term of cow-itch! Brushed against a bare flank or bosom it creates a tormenting itch but applied to more intimate and sensitive areas of the female body its effects are unspeakable! At the sight of a well-filled pod in the hand of one boy, Maggie mewed violently through her wad and tried desperately to twist her hips aside. The boy grinned. “A good rub with this between your legs, Mag, to make you frisky!” Fortunately she had been very firmly strapped down and was unable to struggle much. The other boy held her round the legs to keep her steady. His partner coaxed the warm cunt-flesh back a little and then rubbed it gently with the virulent itch plant. Though Maggie strained and squirmed at once under the torture of the irritation, he took a second pod and rubbed her again between the legs. “And now some attention to your bottom, Maggie!” he said, teasing her to the point of desperation. There were two more pods. The first he rubbed thoroughly into the darker valley between Maggie's buttocks. As for the last, he poked its contents up her rear until it disappeared from sight and left her quite frantic. Nor was that all, for they were determined to turn the stocky young blonde into the most proper pony-girl. One of them produced a false ponytail of blond hair which was a match for Maggie's flaxen gold. At one end it was gathered into a thumb-sized leather butt. Ignoring any attempt at lubrication and the young woman's wadded shrillness, the lad inserted the leather butt firmly into Maggie's backside. The twist of hair was drawn tightly up between her rear cheeks, under the leather waist strap in the small of her back, and then rose in a graceful plume of a tail so that its ends swept to and fro across the top of her curved buttocks as she writhed. Now, my lady, picture the scene when Gamekeeper Jewkes entered the yard to drive his blond filly! Maggie was twisting her hips, squirming her thighs together, dancing and kicking as if she meant to overturn the equipage then and there. It is the kind of disobedience which no driver can permit from a filly, whether she be equine or human!

  Jewkes flexed the long slim leather of the switch that he carried in his hands. “Bend right forward, Maggie, and keep perfectly still!” He did not know, of course, what the frolicsome lads had done to her. Personally, I was delighted to hear Mag given a command she could not possibly obey. “Keep your bottom still, you young slattern!” Maggie mewed desperately through the wad in her mouth but she could no more control her maddened squirming than she could fly. Her pale broadened hips twisted side to side and the blond ponytail rising from her bum-hole brushed to and fro across the bare spread of the young working-girl's backside. Jewkes's expression did not change. He walked across and stood just behind her, watching the writhings of the girl's stocky thighs and broadened hips. He took the plume of the false ponytail and tucked it under her waist-strap out of the way. Measuring the cold leather switch across her flinching buttocks, he gave the young blonde a long minute to imagine the agony of naked leather-discipline which she was about to feel across her bare rump. The stones of the yard sang to the smack of the whip across the pale sturdiness of Maggie's bottom-cheeks. A frenzied cry was just audible through the wad in her mouth and the short tail of her own blond hair swept to and fro across the back of her collar.

  Jewkes thrashed her with the carefully measured strokes of a judicial whipping, impersonal and without pity for the hard-faced young blonde.

  Maggie's firm and stocky young thighs squirmed together harder and faster, for all the world as if she sought relief by bringing herself to completion. “Keep your arse still, Maggie, you young bitch!” He found the most sensitive areas, high up on the backs of her thighs and low on the softer undercurve of Maggie's full buttocks. With great precision he raised six blueberry weals which interlaced cruelly. “I'll have obedience from you, Maggie, you young tart!” he said, almost laughing at her. “Keep that backside still!” He made the leather whip flash down again and again, so that it kissed Maggie's bottom-cheeks with streaks of agony. He even whipped her across the backs of her knees and then gave her a dozen stingers round her thighs. “Now your bottom, Maggie,” he said quietly, “Let's see how much more you can take before you decide to obey me and keep absolutely still!” What a contest it promised to be. I have no doubt that Jewkes must have seen Maggie at her work, bending lewdly in tight denim, or polishing on all fours with the jeans-seat taut and smooth over her sturdy young buttocks. I daresay most men who paused to admire such a view would have been implacable with her now. And so he was. He whipped and whipped with all the strength of his arm. At last Maggie's knees bent under her, though the straps held her over the bars. Her lank blond hair broke from its ponytail and fell about her face, as her head hung down. In tribute to the power of his discipline, the young window-dresser swooned arse-upwards over the bar. What a price many of her casual admirers would have paid for a keepsake portrait of her as she now appeared!

  The gamekeeper withdrew and left the stable-lads to prepare her once more. Half a dozen of the boys ca
me out. One of them held the little bottle to her nostrils. Each of the others, in turn, presented his unbuttoned stiffness either in the area of her thighs or her backside. The young blonde was unmuzzled and revived to the virulence of the pica-pica itch. In the most plaintive accents of her lilting young voice, Mag begged them for the soothing balm which was in their gift. She whimpered to have each little sausage-like prick in its turn either placed between her legs or bum-cheeks. With the threatened return of the gamekeeper, there was no time to penetrate properly. Instead three of them took turns. Each of them placed his hot young gristle between Maggie's bare legs and she worked the inner surfaces of her smooth pale thighs upon it, asking only for his squirted balm to soothe her itch. These vigorous lads soaked her in grand style, though they had a fine reward. Maggie was so frantic to be eased that she gave each boy a splendid time, giving each one more fun than they would even taste on their honeymoon nights. The remaining three lads supplied her elsewhere. This time each young sausage was laid between the cheeks of Maggie's bottom. How the young blonde squirmed and tensed her broadened bum-cheeks upon them. She was even more desperate for them to spend than the lads themselves. Maggie is a hard-faced young bitch and yet she can give a man some fun when she puts her mind to it. I watched her employ every trick in the armoury of the most perverse young whore to coax this second triple spending from the boys. In this she succeeded. By the time they left her, Mag's rear view was amply splattered, from the curves of her arse-cheeks down to the middle of her thighs. I had been so engaged by this amusing spectacle that I had quite forgotten Lord Augustus at his window. He stood there now, mouth agape and eyes wide in astonishment at what he had seen. If ever a man were turned to stone by the glance of the Gorgon, it was he. Before he could gather his wits, however, the gamekeeper-my own man Jewkes-reappeared.

  You may be sure Jewkes smiled to himself when he saw the state in which Mag now presented herself. “I'm glad to find you feeling randy, Maggie,” he said taunting her. “Does the thought of being harnessed and driven excite you so much that you must even seduce the stable-boys? Such fine stripes across your bottom and legs as well! I daresay some men would be lenient with you, seeing that you must have been whipped already. I view the matter differently. To see such weals across your buttocks is bound to put some very cruel ideas in to my head…” And so he drove his filly between the shafts of the little carriage, sitting on the driver's perch behind her and watching the young blonde's stumbling and labouring over the bar. The short leather tail of the pony-lash was most convenient and he made her feel it more times than one could count. As the young woman's stocky thighs strained to pull forward the load behind her, her buttocks rounded and contorted in a thrusting and swaying rhythm which fascinated him.

  Best of all was the last mile which lay up the steep path of Snow Hill itself. The young blonde's broadened hips and backside shone in a pale gloss of her own sweat. She gasped for breath and writhed over the bar with the most demented energy. Best of all, the steep incline exaggerated her movements. Her thighs squirmed together in an almost masturbating tightness, while her bare hips surged and swayed.

  Maggie's bottom seemed to thrust back at the driver as if she wished to stick it right into his face with its cheeks pulled hard apart, and her pink cunt peeping back from between her thighs. It took her almost half an hour to draw the little carriage to the top. Jewkes's whip caught her repeatedly across her buttocks and round her flanks.

  Soon the weals were adorned by telltale smudges as if red berries had been squashed here and there on Maggie's arse-cheeks. Each time she bent a knee forward, the parting of her legs showed her driver a delicious peep of cunt. Each thrust of her hips drew her buttocks apart and showed him Maggie's arsehole. The air rang with the smacks of the whip across her smooth bare buttocks. Maggie screamed in her frenzy and her tight little post-horn sounded some extremely vulgar carriage-notes. Indeed, she did things while strapped over the bar which quite disqualified her as a future lady of the manor! The state of Mag's thighs and backside by the time she stumbled to the top of Horsewhip Hill-as we must surely call it-would require some great painter of sunsets to depict. Though they had reached the destination, the driver was not quite satisfied with Maggie. He stopped the carriage and applied its brakes. Then, while the young shopgirl was still strapped arse-upwards over the bar, he whipped-and whipped-and whipped-the short lash across her bottom. Not until her knees bent and her head drooped as if in tribute to him was he satisfied at last with the state of Maggie's bare backside. You need have no fears for the consequences, my lady. We shall not, of course, permit Mag to return to her former way of life. Already her abduction is planned and we are examining her carefully to see if she might not make a gift for our friend in Arabia! It is far and away the most prudent means of ridding ourselves of the young tart. As for Lord Augustus, you may rest assured that the scenes which he witnessed have done nothing but good. He did not know that I had him “in my sights” all the time. However, I am pleased to tell your ladyship that this was so. Whatever his initial indignation or alarm at seeing Mag stripped and harnessed, this soon gave way to open-mouthed astonishment. Before long, mat astonishment turned to fascination!

  With my own eyes, I saw him follow the carriage-outing at a discreet distance. Indeed, he carried a little spy-glass, which he trained eagerly upon Maggie at every propitious moment. It was afterwards rumoured among the servants-with what truth I cannot say-that a certain young lord paid a visit to Maggie in the room where she was later confined. The stable-lads swear it as being overheard by them.

  Under threat of what he would have done to her, the young gentleman obliged Maggie to kneel before his chair. Her tawny fair hair was once again tied back in its short ponytail so that he might see her face.

  Mag was obliged to unbutton him, suck the fine erection lovingly, and consume the ample squirtings of warm gruel which he poured over her tongue. Who can say? Yet one hopes it is true. A hard-faced young slut like Maggie needs such training in submission. Moreover, it shows hopeful signs of your cousin attaining the age of wisdom. The carriage-outing taught him a lesson for which the world of quality will thank us. In the event of a proposed mesalliance between a gentleman and a shopgirl, far the best answer is to let him see her with her knickers down being dealt with as befits her kind. However much he may lament what happened to Maggie-though one hopes he secretly enjoyed watching her get it!-he cannot take a wife who has been stripped and whipped by the gamekeeper, and who has squeezed stable-boys' pricks between her thighs and bum-cheeks! If, in this letter, I have used phrases which are coarse or offensive to your ladyship's dignity, I trust you will overlook the style of one untutored in finer language. I assure you my heart is at your ladyship's service and express my warmest thanks for that elevation to the bench of justices which Lord Rupert assures me is soon to be my part! I have the honour to be Your ladyship's obliged humble servant, H. Bowler Anonymous Augustus and Lady Maude XIX. Lady Maude to Mr. Bowler Villa Lola, 24 July My dear Friend, Words cannot express my gratitude and relief upon the receipt of your letter this morning. We, the family and loved ones of Lord A, are now doubly beholden to you for this second act of moral rescue. Do not imagine for one moment that our recognition of your generosity will be delayed until my own return to England. You know that in October a certain Royal Personage is to visit my uncle en route to the launching of HMS “Unsinkable.” If it please you, HRH shall spend the night previous to the event as your own guest at Bowler Hall. My uncle and I are one in thinking it high time that a man of your character and abilities should be made known to the most influential circles.

  My delight in the downfall of Maggie the shopgirl is unbounded. I hope that what was done to her is known to all those gentlemen who admired her at her chores- and that the hardened young slut knows that they have heard the news. One hopes that they will pause in the future and confront her brazen young face with smiles of vindictive amusement, reminding her of the spectacle she offered on Horsewhi
p Hill! It will curb her insolence a little. As you say, she must soon be shipped off where she will do no more harm. However, a little amusement at her expense on behalf of the gentlemen she slighted would not come amiss. I cannot, of course, offer you such dramatic news of Gardone as that which you sent me from England. In a week or so I propose to close up the Villa Lola and take ship from Venice for Alexandria. I have had the most pressing invitation from our friend Pasha Ahmed who now leaves Cairo for his country “estate.” He is most grateful to have Julie and Sian in his possession, while his enthusiasm for the young nymph Marit is quite touching! The Signore and I had a little amusement with Miss Jones a few evenings ago. I shall take her-the randy little piece!-as my personal maid on my journey to the Levant. That being so, our neighbour naturally wished to have some fun with her in the days and nights which remain.

 

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