Reforming Rebecca

by Emily Tilton

  She gave a sharp cry, like the whine of a puppy for its favorite toy, and she bucked her hips, shamelessly seeking the pleasure of his big hands, his lewd fingers. He moved his hand further down to urge his fingertips inside the cunny he would soon enter with his cock, and Rebecca gave a moan that seemed to go on forever as James instructed her without words in what would soon happen.

  Then, to make certain she understood how completely she would soon belong to him, he ran his middle finger down between her little bottom-cheeks to touch her secret rose, press against her there, push just the tip of his finger inside. Rebecca gave a tiny gasp, and James said in her ear, still moving the fingers of his other hand in and out of her, “A fucking in your cunny, darling, now, and then later, after your spanking, a fucking in your bottom. I know Dr. Brown told you I would use you back here, too.”

  “Oh, heavens,” Rebecca whispered. “He… that is to say…” Her voice sounded breathless and abandoned, but also so very honest and needy that James’ heart burned in his chest to give this sweet young lady with the defiant veneer exactly what she required to find happiness. “He said my… my future husband would, but…”

  Her voice trailed off in little whimpers as with her eyes closed and her cheeks bright pink she rode his caressing hands like a girl having a very special equestrian lesson. She posted up and down shamelessly, as her instructor taught her to ride out upon a man’s hardness, for his pleasure and for hers.

  She would ride in this new way, James now made clear with his hands, even when he chose to put something stern, hard, and demanding in her narrowest passage. He would teach her with firmness but also with gentle persuasion of the ways of the phallic saddle, for she must now have daily instruction upon it, to tame her wildness and bring her back to the path of obedience and virtue.

  “But you did not know it would be I who entered your bottom with my hardness,” James finished for her.

  She shook her head wildly, and cried out as she rode his hands. He moved the fingers in front and the one behind in a gentle rhythm now, to train her in the ways of fucking. Dr. Brown had shown him the panoply of articles such as dildos and harnesses available to him, advising him to use them upon Rebecca as often as he chose.

  The doctor had emphasized that girls with a defiant streak generally benefitted greatly from the imposition of a dildo in the anus, and the wearing of a harness under their drawers. James decided he must soon fuck his future bride’s cunny while moving a dildo in her bottom, for she clearly responded well to this double impalement, sobbing her pleasure as she rode with eyes closed and head thrown back so that her golden hair spilled down her sweet naked shoulders. She held her hands in little fists out before her, too, as if gripping the reins of her lewd imaginary horse.

  A thoroughly natural impulse came to him then, along with an intuition about his naughty girl. He spoke, as the doctor had advised him to do upon such occasions, without thinking but nevertheless knowing he spoke the truth.

  “But you thought of me, nevertheless, when he told you your husband would fuck you in this little flower.”

  Rebecca gave a wild cry of confirmation, and she spent for the first time under her new master’s hands, taking him a little by surprise with the sudden, jerking movements of her bottom and cunny upon his fingers and the way she nearly fell over in the extremity of her pleasure. The orgasm seemed to go on and on, Rebecca’s sobs of pleasure echoing sweetly in his ear.

  When the shudders had nearly left her, James turned her back toward him and kissed her on the lips, withdrawing his finger from her little bottom-hole but still holding both her pretty cheeks in his big hand. He adored the sensation simply of having her little bottom in his grasp and of knowing he would provide her with precisely what she needed there, for the happiness of both of them. Whether it should be a visitation from the marital strap that would hang upon her bedpost ready to punish the young bride when she earned correction or the young bride’s regular anal impalement by her bridegroom’s hard penis, Rebecca’s bottom had become James’ property, and he would exercise his rights over it as he thought best.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Rebecca had thought, after the examination by Dr. Brown, that she had understood how powerful a climax could be. Something about the tension in her legs, or the overcoming of her resistance by the man to whom she had been given, though… something about the size of his hands, or the way they controlled her both in front and behind, the way he had put his finger inside her most private place and promised that she would have his manhood there whether she liked it or not… she rode shamelessly, lewdly upon those enormous hands as she found her release.

  She felt that she had ridden out upon the path of vice, and the scent of her helpless arousal wafted to her nose to tell her that she had anointed James’ hands with the scent of the wanton flowers that ornamented her chosen way. Only a coquette and a flirt, Rebecca felt certain, would cry out so loud in her pleasure, once her bridegroom had promised her a fucking, and a spanking, and another fucking in her bottom. Only a wayward, fractious girl would long to see the footman’s cock, and long to please it no matter what Lady Ambers might say about young ladies who gratified their lovers when they should instead defend their modesty and innocence.

  She spent, and spent, as she rode her footman’s wicked hands, and when he turned her to him and kissed her… when he raised his right hand to her lips and commanded her in a soft voice to lick her lewdness from his long fingers, Rebecca sobbed and obeyed, knowing herself now to have begun her training and to have learned her first lesson. She tasted her wickedness, and she licked greedily, imagining for a moment that James’ forefinger—the finger that had gone so deep and boldly inside her cunny, as it seemed James liked to term her vagina—was his cock.

  Then he said, “Kneel down, Rebecca, and get me ready for fucking. You will suck my cock as you are sucking my fingers, and then you will bend over the bed as I instructed you before.”

  The way he changed the shape of her lesson, and adapted it according to what he decided would give him the most pleasure, made her tremble. She knew that her master had enjoyed the idea of having his fingers sucked so much that he had elected to put his hard penis in the same place, even though Rebecca had never had a cock there before. His pleasure would be law to her.

  “Kneel down, darling,” he said again. “You must learn to suck like a good girl.”

  She had imagined it—had wanted it, even, just a moment ago, but now the thought that he would impose his will upon her that way made the defiance that had seemed conquered rise up again. Rebecca did not wish to be a good girl. The fact that Lady Ambers would not call a girl who knelt down to suck a man’s prick good made very little difference.

  James had put a hand on her left shoulder, and another on her right hip—the same hand that had held her bottom, invaded it. He began to urge her downward, to enforce her obedience. She struggled against the hands.

  “I won’t,” she hissed. “I won’t do it!” but as she heard her voice emerge from her mouth, she understood exactly what this resistance meant, for she saw that she desired to have it both ways—to be the coquette on the path of vice who gratified her footman-lover and to be the wayward, defiant girl who refused him pleasure simply because he had dared to exercise his natural authority over her.

  Rebecca’s heart had a moment’s aching sorrow, as she wondered for the flickering of an eye whether these two things, signposts on the path of vice, pleasure and defiance, could ever be reconciled, whether she were forced by the world onto the path of virtue or not, whether she yielded herself heart and soul to this man or not. Then, to her sudden if strange joy, James reconciled them.

  He picked her up and carried her to the chair, as she struggled—all the more because she felt that she could struggle safely and in vain, that he would put her over his knee, as he now did, in any case. The wool of his dressing gown scratched her naked belly, and under it the strength of his thigh took her breath away.

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bsp; “What are you doing?” she managed to gasp. “You… you shall not…”

  But she cried out in protest because she knew exactly what he intended to do. His right leg came across the backs of her thighs and she knew that he had immobilized her bottom just as effectively as he had done at Rand Park, when he strapped her to the punishment block.

  James had not spoken since he had repeated the command to kneel, and said she must suck like a good girl, but had simply acted, and simply placed her where he had promised to place her after he fucked her. Knowing that she had earned her spanking early—had provoked in her master this disciplinary response, as if her need for bare-bottom correction outweighed his need to fuck her—made Rebecca feel lightheaded. Couldn’t he have carried her to the bed instead, bent her over, and thrust himself inside her wet cunny?

  Instead he had decided he must spank her, and he did, still without saying a word. He brought his big hand down hard, again and again. Rebecca squirmed and cried out, throwing her arm back to try to cover her bottom, but James took hold of her wrist and pinned it behind her back and went on spanking her. Her poor bottom, though Rebecca had not been punished since the caning at Rand Park, quickly became a fiery agony to her.

  Still he did not speak, but covered her bottom-cheeks and her upper thighs with hard smacks.

  “Stop, please! Please… James… It hurts so much…”

  Why would he not say anything? Rebecca suddenly realized through the pain exactly why. James knew that she understood precisely what she must do to end the spanking.

  “I’ll suck it… I’ll… I’ll be a good girl!”

  The words came easily, in the end—all he had had to do was make it clear, this way, that a good girl obeyed the natural man who owned her. He stopped spanking her, and opened his legs, letting her slide to her knees between his thighs. Her bottom still burned, but as soon as the blows of his big hand had ceased the heat had communicated itself forward just as it had when he first tried to curb her waywardness at Rand Park, and although she had had the huge spend just a few moments before, her cunny burned and ached for another so much that she put her hand there and began to play lewdly with herself, hardly thinking about what she did. She looked down at James’ lap, where he had at last unknotted his dressing gown and uncovered a cock so much longer and thicker than William’s that it made her gasp, and rub even more firmly at her clitoris.

  “Rebecca,” James growled, “take your hand away from your naughty cunny. You will have pleasure when I choose, and I do not choose that you should play with yourself now, but instead learn to suck my cock to get me ready for fucking.”

  The breath caught in her throat, and her hand down between her thighs became motionless. She looked up into his stern face and the ache down there grew so paradoxically strong that she almost disobeyed, before the burning in her bottom and the knowledge that he would put her right back over his knee stopped her, and she turned her eyes downward again to his penis.

  He had begun to stroke himself now, with the same big hand that had spanked her. Rebecca watched, mesmerized, as the fingers gripping his enormous penis went up and down in a way that she knew must mean he was giving himself pleasure—just as he had only a moment before told her she might not do without permission.

  “Up and down,” he said, his voice soft and thick now. “As if I am inside your sweet cunny. Try with your hands first, to learn how to please a cock.”

  Rebecca saw that a drop of clear liquor had emerged from the tiny eye at the tip of his hard penis, that James had rubbed it on his cock, as if to make his hand move more easily upon the shaft and over the head. He took his own hand away, and drew hers, which hovered before him uncertainly, toward the upstanding length of his manhood.

  “Like this,” he said, making her take it in her little hand, where it felt like nothing she had ever held before: hard and soft at once, so that she wanted to see how she could make him feel, if she pretended to be his good girl. She stroked the cock as he had done, and she felt his body jerk under her touch—as if to have her, Miss Rebecca Adams, please his hardness, gave him much more pleasure than he could give himself, just as when she had ridden his hands she had thought that to have her master do that forced an ecstasy upon her body that she had never imagined.

  Without even being told, because she suddenly understood that she, Miss Rebecca Adams, had a power over him, she bent her head and kissed the tip of the penis, looking up into his eyes as she did it. James’ brown orbs went very wide, just for an instant, and she knew she had surprised him—perhaps even astonished him. She wanted to surprise him more, so she opened her mouth and took him inside, tasting his musky, acrid flavor and positively loving how terribly naughty it made her feel. Her bottom burned still, and her cunny yearned for more pleasure, but to have a penis in her mouth seemed perfectly right, since she could see in James’ eyes and feel in his body’s very sinews his need for her, answering the need for him that it seemed she could only admit when he made entirely clear to her that he would discipline her if she defied him.

  “Good girl,” he said very softly. “Eyes down, now. I am going to move your mouth on the cock.”

  Rebecca almost rebelled at good girl, but his hands upon her head, pushing her lips further down his hard length, overcame that rebellion before it could be born, as the command to lower her eyes again reminded her of his authority—of his readiness to enforce her obedience.

  He did not push her mouth down very far, but he filled her completely and kept her there for a long moment. Rebecca whimpered, a little frightened, but James said, “Shh,” and lifted her head again, then pushed it down, teaching her her duty to his manhood.

  “Oh, that feels lovely, Rebecca,” he said, still moving her head up and down. “Rub the base of my cock with one hand, now, and just hold my balls with the other. That is how a well-trained flirt pleases her lover.”

  She felt a blush come to her cheeks at this information. A well-trained flirt. How shameful! She thought of Thomasina, of how it seemed Mr. de Gerner would have her in his power as James had Rebecca, but without the regard for Thomasina’s happiness that James had shown for Rebecca’s.

  But had they not wanted to be well-trained flirts? What was the difference between a coquette made to suck a penis and a good girl whose husband demanded she do the shameful thing? Did not both have to obey their lords and masters?

  She obeyed, because she wanted to obey, wanted to exercise her own power over her master. She rubbed gently, and she held the funny, wrinkled sack upon her hand. She heard him give a gratified grunt of satisfaction, as he kept moving her mouth up and down, filling her there as he pleased and literally bending her to his will—just as she now understood she could bend him, figuratively, by means of the pleasure she could give.

  At last he said, “Get up, Rebecca, go to the bed, and bend over it, now, upon your elbows. The time for your real first fucking has come.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Dr. Brown watched their coitus through his peephole. He had had no real doubt that Mr. James Oakes was the proper suitor for Miss Rebecca Adams, nor had the society grumbled overmuch about awarding the girl to a footman, since the footman’s bona fides as a rising Whig seemed very much in order and her father the duke had taken the greatest pleasure in the tale of how even in apparent defeat his daughter and Dr. Brown had won a victory—in the eyes at least of those who mattered—over Lady Ambers. Nevertheless, the doctor considered it his duty always to make certain that a girl’s training proceeded along the most efficient lines toward her happiness, and even such a thoroughly natural man as Mr. Oakes might require sound advice from time to time in the handling of a highly intelligent but very willful girl like Miss Adams.

  For example, Dr. Brown thought it quite likely that Mr. Oakes would send Miss Adams home with her vulva shaved and wearing an anal harness under her skirts, to remind her of her new condition as his property as well as to loosen her rectum for easier penetration at her next training session.
The importance of instructing Miss Adams to masturbate tonight, while wearing the harness, might escape him, however, and Dr. Brown planned to emphasize that when he conferred with Mr. Oakes just before Miss Adams was dismissed, and to provide specific counsel as to which part of her session today she should be told to meditate upon as she touched herself.

  The dramatic moment the physician observed now, with fair, creamy-complexioned Miss Adams looking apprehensively back over her shoulder as her dark-haired master approached, his dressing gown shed and dropped upon the chair where he had spanked her, his hard penis in his hand, seemed a likely candidate. Dr. Brown suspected, too, that Mr. Oakes would do as many natural men chose to do…

  “Turn your face forward, Rebecca,” Mr. Oakes said, in a warning voice that implied an immediate resumption of the spanking to the still very pink bottom upon which he now laid his hand, for emphasis. “I am in charge of your backside, now. I will do as I please, here.”

  Dr. Brown could not of course see exactly what Mr. Oakes’ hand did, but from the moan Miss Adams emitted he gathered that a loving caress had been given to the young lady’s clitoris. She turned her reddening face away, and in his profile view the doctor could see her bite her lip, her closed eyes.

  Then Mr. Oakes stepped forward, grasping his wayward girl’s hips and entering her with one long thrust, so that she cried out loud and squirmed in his strong hands as if trying to escape from her possession by the rigid member of the man whom she must now obey. But Mr. Oakes held her fast, and spoke in a thick voice that told of desire long held in check and now at last, miraculously, permitted.

  “Oh, Rebecca,” he said. “Oh, what a sweet cunny you have, you naughty girl.”

  She gave a little sob of pleasure, and squirmed again, but clearly—this time—so as to get even more of the erect penis into her vagina.