'About the new girl,' Sappho eventually panted, lying exhausted between Effie's thighs. 'Will I get the chance to have her?'
'Of course,' Effie murmured blissfully, 'but not until she can no longer pose as a virgin. I intend to put her to work as soon as possible.'
If Olivia had heard that she would have felt greatly insulted. She had never worked so hard in all her life. Her jaws ached from so much sucking, her back had been leathered numb, and her bottom felt as if it had been penetrated by an organ of equestrian proportions.
'Please, I'd like to rest awhile,' she begged, after her bottom and mouth had fulfilled their purposes.
'You can rest when we have finished with you,' said the man who had been belabouring her back.
Olivia, who had collapsed on the rug, looked up at his now pulsating erection.
'You will wash before you put that in my mouth, won't you?' she asked plaintively.
'Your tongue will suffice,' he replied tartly.
'But it's just been up my bottom,' she said askance.
'Are you refusing to go about your duty?'
'It's not my duty to do such things,' she protested.
'Poppycock. Now tell me loud and clear that you will be a good, obedient girl and suck my pego, and that of my friend, and also receive the other gentlemen up your backside.'
Olivia wiped away a tear and muttered, 'I will be good and obedient... and suck your pego.'
'And?'
'And... and have your friends up my bottom.'
'Good. Now that you have stopped shilly-shallying and have willingly consented, we can resume where we left off. Back on all fours, if you would be so kind.'
Muttering silent curses, Olivia obeyed. Again she felt herself obliged to have both men in her mouth at once while being cruelly pounded at her rear.
'Ever tasted your own arse?' one of her tormentors joked, wriggling his plum into her cheek.
Olivia gulped heavily as the second plum entered her mouth. The taste was not quite as repugnant as she thought it might be, and to avert her mind from the awful task she was performing, she repeated the same exercise with her tongue that she had practised earlier.
She furled it into the grooves, and after probing this way and that, slid it between them and licked up and around the sides. In response the organs began to move in and out, withdrawing to the edge of her lips and gliding back in again, pushing into her cheeks and savouring the hardness of her teeth. Unlike their companions who did manage to fire both barrels simultaneously, these fired one after the other, the interlude being long enough for Olivia to swallow one inundation before receiving the next.
She held the final spurt in her mouth in preparation to spitting it out, but the man who was still rogering her bottom gave her a hard slap on the back. Olivia's head jolted and she swallowed suddenly.
'Have you all quite finished?' she asked bitterly, licking the remainder from her lips as the last man withdrew from her back passage.
She sat up, resting her sore bottom on the backs of her calves, surrounded by a quartet of flaccid organs.
'We have, but you have not,' the man with bushy side-whiskers announced.
'What more do I have to do?' she wailed.
'Listen to her!' he exclaimed. 'Again her defiance rises to the fore. Did you ever encounter a more recalcitrant bitch in all your lives?'
They shook their heads in mock disbelief and went into a huddle, deciding which would be the most humiliating act they could make her perform. When Olivia was informed of their decision she threw her arms around the legs of the nearest man, shaking uncontrollably.
'Oh please, don't make me do that! You can play with my bosom if you want to, or smack my bottom, but don't I beg you make me put my—!'
'Stop snivelling, girl, and just count yourself fortunate that Effie has spared your cunt!'
'My what?' she asked, pulling away.
'That piece of meat between your thighs,' came a sharp reply.
Now that they had drawn attention to that delightful morsel, she covered it with both hands and blushed.
'Your hands are in the wrong place, miss,' said the nearest man. 'Kindly obey your instructions.'
Olivia, knowing that it was useless to offer up any further protestations, rose off her haunches and placed her right hand on her bottom, her index finger at the entrance. She looked up hoping that, by some miracle, they might change their minds, or someone would come into the room and rescue her. But she hoped in vain, they were adamant and no one would come.
She gave a shove of her wrist and was rewarded with a cheer.
'All the way up, if you please,' said the clean-shaven one with a sadistic leer.
Olivia pushed again and her finger went in to the knuckle. She blushed so hot that her cheeks burned.
'Now move it about, let's see your wrist turn.'
Olivia screwed her wrist back and forth, worming her finger deep into her bottom. She was still wet inside from her rogering. 'You know what to do next,' said the side-whiskers. Olivia retrieved her finger, hesitated, and then plunged it into her mouth.
'Suck on it, there's a good girl.'
She didn't know who said that, for her eyes were closed in shame, unable to bear the leers of her tormentors, who it seemed, were thoroughly enjoying the spectacle of seeing a captive young woman debase herself.
When she had sucked her finger clean she took it out of her mouth and placed her hands back into her lap, covering her embarrassment.
There was still some time left, so to amuse themselves further they made her wash their organs with her wetted tongue, going to each in turn, taking in the respective plum and cleaning it until it shone.
'Have I done my duty now?' she asked acidly.
The men were too busy dressing to bother with an answer, and one by one they trailed out of the room leaving her sobbing and wishing that she had the courage to get up and run.
It was quite a while before Effie came to find her. She had fallen asleep in Sappho's arms as she often did after a bout of whipping and lovemaking.
'Come along,' she said softly, 'and join the other girls in the parlour.'
'I did my duty,' Olivia said defensively, as she trotted beside her. 'Will I get some clothes now?'
'All in good time,' Effie replied, ushering her into the crowded parlour.
The girls lay in various stages of post coital abandonment, legs and arms akimbo, and hair tumbling over their faces. Most of them were already stupefied from gin and the heavy inhalation of tobacco.
'You did well,' Effie complimented, seating Olivia on a sofa and pouring herself a glass. 'My clients, that is the patrons, were well pleased with your performance.'
'They didn't appear so at the time,' Olivia retorted. 'From their manner in dealing with me I had the impression that they were most dissatisfied.'
'Probably because they had strict instructions not to deflower you.'
'What sort of theatre are you running here, exactly?' asked Olivia, glancing around at the doped women, now falling into each others arms.
'Don't you like it here?'
'I certainly did not expect that my person would be so shamefully abused. If you knew the things I had to do I'm sure you would agree that—'
'Yes, yes,' interrupted Effie, growing impatient. 'That was an exercise to see how well you could perform, throwing you in at the deep end, so to speak.'
'Thank you very much,' Olivia said bluntly. 'Next time I am to be thrown in the deep end I would appreciate a little warning.'
'We don't as a rule perform here. As I said earlier, we are what is termed, 'strolling players', but instead of travelling from town to town we go from house to house. Not all of the actresses perform in one place, some are virtuosos in their own right and perform singly.'
'I performed singly in there,' Olivia remarked, rubbing her bottom with exaggerated gestures.
'And you shall perform singly again, but not in front of so many men - in fact only one. A gentleman who is ki
ndly disposed to ladies of our particular calling. But before that happy event arrives, there is just a little more preparation that you have to undergo.'
'I think I'm prepared enough already.'
'Not quite. But no more of this now. You have more than earned your rest, and tomorrow I shall begin your education proper.'
Effie showed Olivia to a bedroom, her own room where, for the first time in living memory, she slept soundly on a sprung mattress, her head on a feathered pillow, sucking her thumb, which normally she never did.
Chapter Ten
'Are these my clothes?'
Olivia held out the costume that Effie had presented her with. She could see at a glance that the dress was about three sizes too small.
'Try it on,' Effie said encouragingly.
Olivia struggled into the red velvet dress that came halfway up her thigh and only just buttoned over her cleavage, leaving the greater part of it exposed. The white stockings fitted a little better but reached only above her knee, displaying a generous area of thigh between the tops and the hem. Her hair had been washed that morning and was tied in bunches at the side of her head. The sleeves came to mid upper arm but were loose enough to allow movement. Her feet were shod in child's shoes but had obviously been made to fit a grown woman.
'I can't go abroad looking like this,' said Olivia, looking sideways into a full-length mirror.
'You're not going anywhere,' Effie replied firmly, 'until I'm satisfied that you've thoroughly learnt your craft.'
'But last night you said I did very well, and the patrons were pleased with my performance.'
'True. Very true. But any fool can suck a man's pego or have it up her arse. The other girls do that for a pastime. It takes great skill to behave as if you really don't want it, but all the while actually longing for a good rogering.'
'I don't want a good rogering,' Olivia retorted. 'All I want is to earn an honest living without getting involved in prostituting myself'
'And you shall earn an honest living, the most noble there is, by bringing comfort and solace to those far less fortunate than yourself. Or have you forgotten what you were before I took you in; a penniless beggar fleeing from her employer.'
Olivia wished she had kept her mouth shut about all that.
'I'm sorry,' she apologised, hanging her head and staring at the gloss on her shoes. 'I am grateful, please believe me.'
'I'm not sure that I do, so it will be up to you to convince me otherwise.'
'What do I have to do?' she asked, eager to prove herself.
'If you care to follow me, I'll show you.'
They went into the room where the stage stood, but instead of looking like a schoolroom it had been got up to look like a child's nursery, complete with rocking-horse and boxes of toys scattered hither and thither. Rita and Dora were already in situ, dressed very similar to herself and twiddling with some skipping-ropes and rattles. Olivia stifled a laugh as she mounted the stage and took the doll that Rita handed her.
Effie clapped her hands, at which Rita began skipping and Dora swinging her rattle. Olivia quickly grasped the situation and made a pretence of patting the doll's head and fiddling with its clothes. But very soon this harmless situation descended into total anarchy. Rita's skipping rope became hopelessly tangled with Dora's rattle, which spun round and smacked into the side of Olivia's head. A fight broke out and the props were used to batter each other, and in the process their clothes suffered numerous rips and tears. In a matter of minutes all three participants were virtually stripped naked. The dress that Olivia thought must have cost a shilling or two was ripped from her back. She stumbled and fell, and on the way it was rapidly taken from her altogether.
When she regained her feet it was too find that both Dora and Rita were down to their stockings and shoes, and nothing else. The melee ceased abruptly when the door of the nursery flew open and the man who had played the headmaster the night before came in masquerading as an outraged father.
'Fine goings-on here!' he roared, slamming the door behind him and marching into the centre of the nursery.
Olivia took one glance at the ferocious bulge in his trousers and cowered in the corner along with the other two.
'Which one of you is the ringleader?' he asked, hands on hips and glowering at each in turn.
Olivia was well aware that this part of the charade had taken a serious turn, and the cane that he brandished was not there for effect.
'If the guilty one does not own up I shall whip all three of you,' he promised, swishing the cane through the air and smacking it onto the saddle of the rocking horse.
Olivia looked at Rita, expecting that as she was the principle player she would take the lead. But she said nothing and hung her head.
Dora spoke first and blamed Olivia, who went weak at the knees. Then Rita accused Dora.
'I shall whip all three of you,' he said, 'and in particular, you,' and he aimed a swipe at Olivia's bottom.
'Why me?!' she gasped.
'Because you are the eldest and led on the younger ones.'
'But they are older than I!' Olivia returned desperately, forgetting that reality had been turned on its head.
'Liar!' shrieked Rita.
'Always lying!' rejoined Dora, looking forward to seeing how Olivia would get out of this.
'You deserve a sound thrashing,' spoke the father, 'for telling such dreadful lies.'
'But I'm innocent,' Olivia exclaimed, on the verge of tears.
'Innocent, my foot,' Dora broke in. 'Why father, did you know your eldest daughter, who is supposed to set an example, goes around sucking men's pegos?'
'And has them up her bum,' Rita confirmed.
The look of horror on father's face was very convincing, as it was on Olivia's.
'Is this true, child?'
'Yes... yes it is,' Olivia replied miserably.
'Once a whore, always a whore,' said Dora.
Olivia's reaction startled them all. She swung suddenly and slapped Dora straight in the mouth, and then recovering, landed another on Rita's ear. No playacting this, but serious intent. The father retreated to the side of the stage to see what would happen next.
Dora, with the speed of a cobra, snatched one of Olivia's bunches and came perilously close to ripping it off her head. At the same time Rita punched her hard on her left breast, to which Olivia responded by kicking her in the groin. Then all three fell to the floor punching and slapping. The father, unsure whether this was supposed to happen or not, looked on with interest at the spread legs and thrashing thighs. Olivia, either by accident or design, took hold of Dora's pubic hair and wrenched a clump from her mound, sending her out of the fray sobbing and swearing.
Rita, who had fallen across Olivia, suddenly yelped in pain. Her bare back was a sight too good to resist and the father lashed it. As Olivia's naked thighs were in close proximity he lashed them into the bargain.
'Hold still, the pair of you!' he snarled.
His voice, acting though it was, had the desired effect and both of them froze in mid-tangle. Rita's middle rested on Olivia's stomach and she could feel the pubic fleece rubbing to and fro with every lash that cut into her back. When the father changed target and began striping Rita's bottom she moved much faster.
'Luv me, I'm goin' to come,' she panted, and she twisted her head and begged to be beaten much harder.
Father also had gone hard and, master of his craft and familiar with the peculiarities of every girl's arousal, he went on caning until the pants reached fever pitch. Dora, quick to grasp his intention sidled round him and, seizing Rita by the ankles, dragged them wide across the floor.
'She wants it,' Dora observed, rather unnecessarily, as by now Rita's opened slit was weeping the first drops of her longing.
The cane whistled into the slit and Rita's bottom bounced off Olivia's belly.
'Give it to her!'
Father turned round and saw Effie watching the proceedings from the wings. Not one to argue he reached d
own and gripped under Rita's hips and lifted her bottom high enough to penetrate. Still lying on her back, Olivia watched with intense fascination as his organ slipped into Rita's lips. She forgot about the throbbing pain in her thighs, the dull ache in her breasts, and the blatant absurdity of the situation, but concentrated instead on watching everything that was taking place at Rita's fork.
She had known for quite some time the purpose of the slit between her legs, and had gathered that men seemed always to want to immerse their organs there, but had never actually seen it done. She was also astute enough to know that her mouth and bottom were substitutes for the same and wondered, at that rather inappropriate moment, why Dora had seen fit to fondle the fruits she saw swinging beneath Rita's tuft.
She soon learned the reason. Father went wild when Dora squeezed them, and she could see how much bigger his organ had swelled. Neither was it to her liking. It looked horrible; the throbbing trunk with its gnarled blue veins sticking out like creepers, and Rita's lips slavering around its perimeter, making sucking noises and expelling juice which dripped onto her stomach.
'Urgh!' she grunted, trying to wriggle free from the pool that was collecting in her navel.
As father rose to his release Dora artfully relaxed her grip and began bobbling his fruits on her fingertips. The organ turned almost purple, and in the next instant fired its charge hot into Rita's flowing tunnel.
Rita emitted a loud shriek and collapsed over Olivia's stomach. A second barrage of spurting globules spattered up her back, and with a groan father slid out of her and back into Dora's outspread legs.
Effie gave a derisively slow clap of her hands and hauled Rita away from Olivia. A kick on her bottom sent her flying across the stage.
'You are supposed to be schooling the new girl,' she said tartly, glowering at father, who struggled to extricate himself from Dora's wandering hands.
'She slapped me in the mouth,' Dora told her.
'You did?' Effie asked of Olivia, sounding surprised that the girl was capable of defending herself.
The Instruction of Olivia Page 14