"Oh sir, sir . . . mercy!"
"Well, Jane, which rod d'ye like best?" His bloodshot face was miles above me as he pounded on with his merciless skewering. I was sheer cunt. And suddenly I knew I was coming as I never had before. I was slick with sweat and a steam rose before my eyes but I remember I said in a steady tone, "Sir, if you wish to . . . know... I think I am going to spend . . . ."
"I know you are," he grunted, snorting. He joggled me for a second, then rammed hard home. "UINGH!"
I was stuffed to the gills, my eyeballs bursting, but suddenly my whole lower body clamped to his rock-hard cock. I felt myself streaming down its sides in unending ecstasy for what seemed like minutes, and then I lay back limp, gasping like any stranded fish.
High above me as well as in me the man drained port like water as Miss Temple handed him the restorative glass. He had not come. He was as hard as ever. My legs now hung limply astride the towel Miss Temple had evidently placed beneath my bottom, and Mr. Brocklehurst started work in earnest. Holding my pelvis high by the peach-halves he commenced a steady, reaming ramming, screwing the slick sausage deep into me, gouging and nuzzling the back of my womb.
"Oh God, sir, come," I begged in desperation, with tears in my eyes. "Spurt into me, sir, I do beg you. You have split me in two, now for God's sake spare me and go off."
He laughed, the while. Finally, after an eternity of thudding, he seemed to grunt, and swell.
"Isn't it lovely, Jane?" The Headmistress bent over me, fondling one of my titties.
"But I'm ger-going to," I bleated in sweet misery, "I'm going to come uggh. . . ."
She grinned and tweaked me.
"Jove, she fucks like butter!"
I wailed as it began. High above, it seemed, I saw two writhing insects, my plump legs, entwine themselves of their own volition round the thrusting waist and I buckled sickly upwards, stabbing myself on his colossal member, squirting in spurts. What bliss!
"The little mischief is coming all the time."
"It must have been that birching did it."
The lubricant of my love juices eased his entry and allowed him to penetrate and pummel more deeply within me. I was drained of all energy by the ecstasy and simply hung like a rag dog, legs lolling, my hips held glued to his by his hands beneath my buttocks.
The brute did not stop for a second. He was now stocking his bloody cylinder into me with driving force that took all breath from me. Our groins met with wet bruising thuds. I was being properly "done." My head hanging back on the ottoman I lay with lifeless arms and was fucked to the core and oh! beyond. I was a sheer sleeve of sex. Would the man never finish?
Looking up glassily I could see Miss Temple's bunched buttocks, in their pale blue velveteen breeches, as she straddled over me. She was avidly pressing two fingers into the lozenge of her central self and I thought bitterly, through gritted teeth, How would you like to be rammed like this, Ma'am?
"Lord, Broughton, but you are rogering her soundly."
He panted hoarsely, "Could fuck this twat all night . . . but get in better other way ... the cervical slant. . . ." He was pulling my behind halves so apart by now that each of his rammings was echoed by a short, startled fart. All at once he slid out and the engorged monster, sticky with my gluttonous glue as well as blood, reared hotly before me. It had not had enough.
"Come, Jane," the mistress coaxed. She sat me up, half-dazed as I was, and poured more scalding brandy down my throat. It instantly revived me and I looked down at the thick cream, streaked with red, that leaked to the towel between my legs. Ravished was the word.
"Well, Jane Eyre," the man mocked as I rose unsteadily, "did you feel something, after all?"
"Yes, sir."
"Come, you're a passionate child and we've only just begun. I'm going to take ye dog wise, from the back, now that I've opened you up a bit and I wager you'll feel it twice as deep."
"Oh please, sir," I begged hectically, "please shoot off into me."
"I'll shoot off," he said grimly, "and when I do, you'll feel it clear behind your eyeballs."
I was bent close over the desk with my legs apart. Miss Temple stationed herself at my head and held my hands, pulling me forward. I quivered like a willow as I felt the wet turgid piston in between my ass cheeks. I looked down and back. The fat head nosed between my swollen lips and then suddenly the whole limb sluiced into me like a sword. "UINKK!"
I gaped up with disbelievingly dismay into the mistress' smiling face. This time he jammed me to the chest, I'd have sworn.
"It's toooo . . . big . . . uingh! Ooooh. . . . Uingh! . . . UINGH!"
My thighs vised to the desk edge by his own, the monster had me impaled like a butterfly on a page. Grunting rhythmically he stuffed and crammed every inch of my insides, holding my pelvic bones so that I could not escape a centimeter. Miss Temple relinquished my hands and sat comfortably on the desktop, peering to get a better view of the great tumid tube as it halved me. I was going mad. I hammered helplessly, half sobbing, on the leather desk with my poor puny fists. For it was happening again.
"NOOOOO!" I wailed hysterically. "I ... I . . . it's toooo . . . comeeeeeeng!"
Great shuddering gusts of the rapture overtook me as my feet beat on his and my bucking body rooted itself greedily in the anguish of ecstasy once more.
It did not stop. I heard his gruff laugh, then—"I'm getting deeper now," and then I purely panicked. Glossy with sweat, lithe as an eel, I somehow escaped his grasp. The plug pulled out of me with a plop and I ran heedlessly . . . somewhere . . . anywhere, so be it away from him.
I got no more than yards. I remember hearing his easy, manly laugh and then that sound like a parting of curtains behind me. Swung with a full-bloodied aim, as hard as a strong man could, the last two feet of his cane caught me clean across the center of my bounding arse. It was a perfectly timed stroke and to this day I still think it one of the worst I ever had. As it clipped in, smacking upwards, I screeched soundlessly, driven out of my skin by the sting. A-tiptoe I grabbed back at my buns, never having felt such pain and knowing it was going to mount. As it did, I staggered, no more, and half-fell over a soft chair back. He got in two more ferocious swipes to the back of my thighs, the second of which made me double up whining, falling over into the chair. I huddled like a ball, holding myself, cold with pain. Heavens, what strokes he had struck me!
Miss Temple was urging me up, bending over and tugging at me. I resisted weakly, gasping and grimaced. Suddenly I felt her jolt and stiffen, a look of startled surprise came over her face, as she called out "Oh!"
Vaguely, all I realized was that the whup of the rod had this time not met me. It had connected instead with the Head's bent broadside. She got one more juicy beauty there too, which made her straighten and say primly, "Broughton, please. Not before a pupil."
I was indeed somewhat aghast at the lese-majeste but had little time for such reflections as now the Reverend was standing over me glowering, his wet prick purple.
"Get over that desk, girl," he grated, "quick. Or I'll cut ye to such pulp and peelings you'll wish you'd never been born."
I pantingly obeyed. En route he gave me one more furious cut with all his stinging skill. I squealed like a pig. In a trice I was re-skewered and this time he held my thighs to the desk with all the iron in his.
The pain in my cubs was so appalling I could not for a while feel anything. But when it subsided I noted a change in the monster in my belly. It was bloating as it drove into me. In panic I looked up at Miss Temple who had resumed her seat atop the desk, holding a titty of mine in her left hand while the other ruminatively rubbed the stretched velvet on her right buttock. I looked at her imploringly. The prick was growing bigger!
"Christ, she's tight!"
"Oh sir . . . nnnngh. . . . sir!"
"You're going to get it now, girl."
I had felt the first seething at the root. The whole thing seemed to tensen till I nearly shrieked. It was beginning to boil, engorging
itself with sperm to be spurted into me. I tried vainly to crawl forward off it. At the same time the strokes behind were now a warm gluteal glow and I could feel myself squeezing, clam-like, inside, powerless to stop the single cunt that I was from surging over with him, too, even had I wanted to, which I did not.
The root thickened, the head kicked. I heard him growl something at Miss Temple. I balanced myself up on my arms.
"Ah sir, come soon. I am giving it to you again . . . ugggghr!"
I jammed back on him as the spasm took me and screamed, fighting backwards, as he slowly withdrew the pole. He nodded at the entrance, once, twice, then with a great shout of "There!" he slammed full home and more in me.
"AAAAAIEEEEEE!"
As the first volt of gismic lightning was unleashed within my guts, I felt his semen travel through my marrow. What a jet! Oo, oh ow! The piston started pumping in single, terrific throbs, well spaced-out, each shooting thick hot gobs against me. Once, twice, thrice ... I bit my lips and stared unseeing at Miss Temple. The throbs turned into strong upwards kicks in my belly, each thrash of sperm shaking my head on my shoulders like a ball. Would he never be done? He hosed the spew into me, until I slumped, unconscious.
When I recovered my senses the first thing I noticed was that the great glib tube within me had scarcely limpened. I still had the sensation of being thoroughly, hopelessly, filled and stuffed inside, as well as extremely sloshy from his spermatozoa. Miss Temple was talking in the skies above me.
"But Broughton, it isn't fair . . . your last visit . . . I've never had to, twice in a term like this. . . ."
"Nonsense, m'dear," came the Reverend's manly rejoinder "Do you a world of good. You know my motto: a mistress should be prepared to receive all she gives. And more."
"Besides, I think I've got the curse coming on."
"Capital. 'Twill bring it out. You've a nice round bottom and . . . but hello, what have we here? I do declare our little stranded fish has come alive again. Pour me another glass of port, do."
"Sir . . . sir!"
As I rose weakly on my arms he stiffened sullenly inside me and a mermaid at my depths began to swim to the surface at his first probing reams.
"Jove! Never met such a gluttonous cunt; you beat yer Aunt Reed, I'll swear. Now. Let's see how you like it up your bunghole. Fetch me a dollop of saddle grease, dear. . . ."
"NOOOOOH!"
"Not virgin here, I'll bet. Not if I know that Jack Reed."
He slucked juicily out of me, my cunt peeling off the fat cylinder of gristle, and presented its enormous head between my bum-cheeks. Our Headmistress anointed the sphincter ring there and then he had to vise my thighs to the desk-top in earnest, as the wet nose nuzzled for entry into my rectum. Heavens, how I fought! Again I hammered on the desk in a fury of impotence as his strong thumbs divided my puckered purse and he adroitly lodged the head, on which the sphincter closed like a clam. "Nouuu . . . I . . . uingh!" It had begun sliding in. He put his powerful hands through under my armpits and caught them together at the back of my neck. I could only flail like a wounded bird, trying to climb off the impalement slowly entering into me.
"Ner-n-no more," I wailed. "No more, sir, please . . . it won't go in!"
"Oh yes it will," I heard in a voice very close to me now. "You'll take every inch, till you feel my balls banging into that hungry little cunt of yours, monkey. There, there. I'm going to give you something that'll make you want to shit for a week."
I slid down on the meaty shank, gulping and aghast. Finally it was all in me, a feat that made Miss Temple clap. Then she seated herself askew the desk and proceeded to toy with my button. I responded at once, grimacing.
Mr. Brocklehurst buggered me as I had never been before. It made John Reed's efforts seem like those of a pencil put in me. The man gave me the full length and girth of his member, in and out for minutes on end.
"Get ready for it," he gritted, and when he came he shot in spurts that barely let me breathe. My eyeballs bulged, my face went purple, while my traitor on Miss Temple's finger spent its grateful dew. On and on he squirted. At last I was let go. I remember falling to the floor, leaking behind in long strings, and Miss Temple consoling me there with a glass of brandy that I drank thirstily, like water. The room was beginning to spin, in any case.
"Now you've been done, Jane, wasn't it nice? Nell will see you back after she has washed you clean inside first."
"The ber-buggering was terrible," I said, lost.
"Only rather nice at the end, eh? You were most copious and I shall be grateful to you later for having reduced that stallion of his a little. Unfortunately," and her eyes strayed, "I'm afraid he means to scratch my own back a little first. I'd pull yourself to pieces, Jane, and get out of here before he sees that cane. When he's not fucking or buggering, that man likes to whip."
It was all too true. And the above was how he plucked my personal cherry at Lowood.
Yet the institution did not leave matters at that. Far from it. On entry into the Senior class each girl had to undergo a series of tests in sexual expertise, under the supervision of mistresses. These sometimes lasted over a week, one especially designated for the task.
Usually two or three mistresses (for whom this was rare sport) took as many girls through the hoops in a group. A remarkably realistic godemiché was produced and we had to show that we could lick cock, suck, and chew to the manner born. A mistress then strapped on the dildo and we were royally rammed in every conceivable position, some of which were inconceivable. We had to show that we thoroughly enjoyed it, too.
No great problem for me. I was skewered by Scottish Miss Smith and she had me paroxysming all the time. What completed the initiation was less pleasant, however. It was good deep buggery by the dildo and many girls there were that did not like it. Thanks to my early training by hateful "Master" Reed I passed with honors, easily simulating the required pleasure during the procedure, screwing back my arse and oohing and aahing as if with rapture. I am pleased to say I was applauded by our little group when it was over. But poor Joan Walker, still thin and frail, created a frightful fuss. Oakes had on the dildo (with Hall and Seale in attendance) and despite all their efforts it could not be forced into the curiously dark anal mushroom of the half-crazed, imploring girl. She verily seemed to be able to frown with her sphincter, each time the gode was approached to the rosette. Finally, she was sentenced to what was called Blinding the Cyclops. This was extremely unpleasant and took place in a Chastisement Chamber. The girl and I who had "passed" the test first were allowed the privilege of watching.
Weeping and begging in the most piteous manner imaginable, Joan was strapped to a short leathern bench or block on her knees, which were wide parted. The bench had a curve in it which forced the back to arch, thus thrusting up and out the bottom. She was of course completely bare and her arms secured at the sides. In this obscene pose she was given four of the customarily lancinating Lowood class cuts with a thin cane by each of the presiding mistresses. Joan took this dozen with remarkable fortitude . . . but when the dread engine was approached by Miss Oakes she burst into violent tears again, writhing and squirming her bum.
But there was no defense in view, A square black wooden box was brought forward and set between the cringing buttock cheeks; from it protruded quite the most alarming imitation phallus, ebon in hue, that I have ever seen. It was not only its great girth but also the thickly and realistically ridged corona that impressed me. Mr. Brocklehurst's was no better, while the root of the thing was gnarled as some southern olive tree.
Ugh! I shuddered as it was greased and a reservoir in the box filled with a hot liquid of a milky hue but the consistency of porridge. For the monster could be made to jet.
Joan wailed as the meatus was entered into her with a thump, the box being secured to a device protruding from the bench between the legs. When fully home, it was activated by a mechanism and the Cyclops eye was fairly blinded by the plunger. This relentless and dreadfully cruel bugg
ery tore screams from the girl at once. It was in fact much worse than the human variety, since so mechanical and unresting. The greased tube lunged forward, then withdrew slowly. Thump—out. Thump—out. Such was the rhythm and it amused the mistresses amazingly to see the thin girl so skewered. The sphincter ring clamped the monstrous engine, which plugged it quite utterly, and as it withdrew came out in a ring of whitish gut. The girl was supposed to smile and show delight to pass the test, but could not do so. She was finally released, sobbing hectically, to try again in couple of days' time, when she was promised even longer at the machine.
These were the things which vexed and were supposed to cure us at Lowood. There were many many more. Punishment Gym was one of the worst. But I have space to dilate on but one. This was Detention and since I have mentioned it in previous pages, I shall expatiate on it in those that follow, in the hope of showing how children were misused in those days long ago. It was one of our most dreaded sentences and it is only with a shudder that I set myself to limbing what happened during it here, for my reader.
A. N. Dedeaux - An English Education Page 17