Kept for Training

by Emily Tilton

  Thomas dared to hope, though, that Joe’s superior understanding would now shine fully through, in his response.

  Shaw issued the invitation. “Mr. Smithers, you may begin.”

  “Alice,” Joe said. “Fetch me the town strap, please.”

  Thomas saw the blush on Alice’s face, and her charming apprehension as she stooped to pick the strap up from the floor where Ken had let it fall. He could see, just as he had seen when he examined her in Joe’s cabin, why she would have such a special allure—one that with the unfortunate if well-intentioned help of Miss Reynolds had blossomed into this crisis.

  Miss Alice Rhodes, in having stumbled upon Brownsville rather than arriving with an elder, had proven irresistible to the two men next in line for a young lady. Joe’s claim clearly had the greater force, especially after last night, but the rough Ken Sweeney could, Thomas thought, be forgiven for pressing his suit when the prize to be won glittered so brightly.

  Not just biting but positively chewing on her lower lip, a deep crease in her brow and her chin lowered so that she need only look at the floor and a bit of Joe’s calves—certainly not his cock, Thomas could see—Alice walked to her savior and held out the strap. Joe took it, then brought his left hand up to put his forefinger under the girl’s chin.

  “Look at me, Alice,” he said, somehow managing to convey authority, love, and care all at the same time with his rumbling tone.

  Alice’s eyes went wide, and her lips parted to emit a tiny cry as she obeyed, and her gaze met Joe’s.

  “I want you to lie down on the middle bench, now, and touch yourself while I whip Miss Burton.”

  Thomas looked sharply at Ken, who stood now against the wall on the young ladies’ side of the hall, to see whether the bunkhouse manager would object. The elder felt he would be able easily to overcome the objection on the same grounds he had persuaded both the other elders and the cocksmen to allow Joe to summon Alice to his side, but Ken could easily foster a lasting resentment among his friends for the apparently cavalier way Joe had decided to bend the rules.

  But Ken, clearly in a much better mood since spending inside Mary Jones’ pretty mouth, crooked a smile. Thomas heard little sighs of relief all around him, and realized that perhaps half the hall had decided to look over at the red-haired man at the same time Thomas had.

  Thomas contemplated taking a decisive step on the basis of that smile, and he turned to see if Shaw and George had noticed, only to find that the first elder had anticipated him. Shaw rose to his feet, clearly about to speak.

  At the same time, however, Joe, Alice, and Thomas’ own wonderful, lovely Mae, remained rapt into an erotic scene so moving for them—and for the half of the hall who had not noticed Ken’s smile—that they paid no attention to what else had occurred. As if in a trance, Alice had moved the few steps to the middle town bench, her face turned over her shoulder so that she need not lose the sight of Joe standing over Mae with the strap in his hand, still looking into his beautiful fugitive’s eyes.

  Now, just as Shaw meant to begin what Thomas felt sure would be a little address to resolve the entire matter, the girl at the heart of it lay herself down on the bench, her right hand under her and her left hand behind her. Frantically, as if some ancient spirit of wantonness had possessed her, she began to masturbate, emitting sharp cries and riding her hands lewdly like a needy female beast in heat, face turned all the while to look at Joe, who now brought the town strap down upon Mae’s bottom, making her cry out as well.

  The sight had an electric effect on Thomas: his cock had risen in his trousers of course while he watched Ken perform with Mary, but the spectacle of Alice’s self-pleasure, combined with Joe’s mastering of Thomas’ own sweet girl, made him stand like an iron bar between his thighs, now.

  Shaw, too, seemed a little taken aback, standing at the rostrum; Thomas saw the first elder’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. Another glance over at Ken confirmed the man’s acquiescence in what he too must know would happen now: the crooked smile had grown into a wide grin.

  It only took a few moments for Alice to bring herself to a sobbing orgasm over the center bench, while Joe whipped Mae at a measured pace, making a pretty network of red marks on the backside that Thomas’ fingers had begun to itch in anticipation of touching, of reclaiming. He looked at Sally Treadway, his dear first young lady, sitting in the front row next to Mary Jones, and saw her attention fixed on her junior young lady’s well-punished bottom, Sally’s own lips parted and her cheeks flushed. As Thomas gazed upon her, Sally turned her eyes to him, and her blush grew and spread down to her neck as she nevertheless couldn’t help smiling back at him.

  Finally Shaw spoke. “Mr. Joseph Smithers, I award to you the right of the phallus over Miss Alice Rhodes, in the eyes of this community. You may fuck your young lady. And let the revel begin!”

  The look in Joe’s eyes gratified Thomas very greatly. The farmer turned to the reliable Irma Fenton and said, “Miss Fenton, would you please release Miss Burton from the bench?”

  Giggling a bit, Irma nodded. She rose and came forward a step so that Joe could also give her the town strap, which she returned to the rostrum. Thomas watched her glance over at Ken as she did. She stopped when she saw the look on the bunkhouse manager’s face, for as Thomas too could see it seemed to hold more meaning than the simple good nature Ken had assumed the moment Joe told Alice to masturbate.

  As Joe began to secure his sweet girl to the town bench, murmuring in her ear words that no one but Alice could hear but which Thomas could well imagine, Ken beckoned Irma to him, and then, turning to the men’s section, he gestured also to Vic Rottner, to bring him forward as well. That scene seemed likely to become diverting, but Thomas couldn’t keep himself or Mae waiting any longer, now that the revel had begun. Cocksmen were calling their young ladies to come kneel in front of their benches and provide a sweet service as they watched Alice’s maidenhead taken. Thomas rose and stepped to Sally.

  “Miss Treadway,” he said in his most courtly tone, putting his hand out to his lovely brunette, “would you assist me in fucking Miss Burton?”

  Sally giggled and took his hand, then rose to her feet. “Most certainly, sir. Shall you fuck her over the bench, while Miss Rhodes loses her virginity?”

  “Of course, Miss Treadway,” Thomas said, glancing toward the middle bench where Joe stood behind Alice, moving the head of his cock gently over the new girl’s bare cunny, getting her ready for the final thrust through her maidenhead that would make her a woman. “And you shall crouch over, too, so that I may fuck you both at once.”

  “For shame, sir!” said Sally, unable to keep another giggle from her voice. “Shall I, a proper young lady of Brownsville, allow my cunny to be fucked thus, just next to another girl’s?”

  “You shall indeed,” Thomas said, grinning, “unless you wish your own backside whipped just as thoroughly as Mr. Joseph Smithers has so ably done to poor Miss Burton.”

  “She is a naughty little thing, is she not?” Sally asked, dropping her peignoir to the bench. “I shall spank her myself, I think, when we get home.”

  Over the bench, Mae gave a little cry as if at the injustice of the idea, and at the way it warmed her down between her thighs, where Thomas reflected the work of the town strap must have made her very needy.

  The benches were just low enough for a long-legged girl like Sally Treadway to straddle another young lady and thus bring their cunts close enough together that Thomas could go from one to the other without missing a stroke. Next to them, on the middle bench, Alice gave a sharp cry as Joe entered her at last, and began to fuck just as Thomas fucked his own young ladies: masterfully, naturally.

  A glance over at the third bench showed, somewhat to Thomas’ surprise, that Irma was about to lose her own virginity not to Ken Sweeney but to Vic Rottner, the man upon whom everyone knew she was sweet. Ken stood by with a benevolent look on his face, his gaze surveying not just the couplings upon the town benches bu
t the increasingly wild, extremely natural debauchery throughout the hall.

  Miss Reynolds, Thomas noticed now, must have removed herself with her new girls at the moment Shaw opened the revel. They would now be having a very special lesson in the dormitory, as the virgins of Brownsville always did on such occasions, coupled two to a bed according to Miss Reynolds’ selection, and lying head to tail to learn the ways of feminine pleasure.

  Mae spent under Thomas’ hips, thanks to Sally’s generous hand under the punished girl’s waist, fingers dancing upon Mae’s clitoris as Thomas fucked her. Next to them, Joe had his right hand on Alice’s shoulder and his left upon her waist. He was in her bottom now, as the best place to spend for a man who didn’t wish to start a family, and she gave a little cry with each thrust as her master reached his own climax at last, deep in her rosy anus.

  Thomas could just catch what Joe said, then, though he leaned down to say it softly in his girl’s ear.

  “I love you, Miss Alice Rhodes. I’m glad you came in from the storm.”

  Epilogue

  Joe sent Alice to the bunkhouse one week later. She could tell that he felt a good deal of conflict, especially about how soon the important event came after she had come to his cabin to stay.

  But Joe had said that very first night, as they lay in his bed tired from their lovemaking, “I mean to give you to Ken and the rest of the men in the bunkhouse within the week, sweetheart. Ken is a good man, and he deserves to have a taste of the bliss your tight cunt and your little bottom give a man’s cock.”

  That had made Alice blush crimson of course, for she couldn’t but remember what it had felt like to be bound to the town bench, and to look back over her shoulder to see Joe approaching with his big, hard penis in his right hand. The whole assembly had seemed to melt away. Although fate had decreed that she should be deflowered in this unconventional public way, the touch of Joe’s big gentle left hand on her back and the sound of his loving voice, had seemed to make it almost more intimate than it might have been in his cabin.

  Then she had felt the head of his cock pressing in, in the place she knew it must go despite the barrier nature had put there as if to make a girl’s first time as thorough a claiming as it might be. She had turned her head forward, closed her eyes, and gripped the bench with her hands. Joe had held her hips firmly and surged inside, so that Alice had cried out for just a moment. It had hurt, but knowing that the man she loved had taken possession now, that she belonged to him, seemed to make his urgent thrusting bearable—then more than bearable… lovely, as she felt his need.

  Even when he had anointed her bottom-hole with his saliva, and pressed inside so firmly, so that he could finish in her tightest place, her cries had been passionate and full of the pleasure that Mary had known that first night, and Alice now knew too. When Joe had spent inside her, and the seed trickled out behind, her face had gone very red, because she knew many people looked on at the girl bound to the town bench for a fucking she had now received. But even in the shame, somehow, had lurked a pride that she had please her pioneer so very much.

  Later that night, told that she must go to the bunkhouse so soon, Alice had felt as conflicted as Joe sounded. She felt the same conflict now, as they rode Joe’s big plough horse through freshly fallen snow to the big building with the smoke curling from its chimney. The snows had set in for good the day after the town meeting, though the road to town was still passable. Joe and Alice hadn’t minded being cooped up in the little cabin at all, though both had gotten a little sore from all the sex, and the past three days—in preparation for Alice’s night in the bunkhouse—had held only some rather gentle spanking and a great deal of cuddling and kissing.

  Today, however, Joe had told her to shave her pussy and to wear nothing but the buffalo robe Elder Shaw had given her as an assignment present. The time had come for her to learn what it meant to pleasure the men of Brownsville because a natural man like Joe knew how to share his good fortune in winning a submissive young lady as his own.

  Ken greeted them at the door with a smile. Inside Alice could see that the dozen young men, all of them arrived in town within the past six months and some of them just recently come from San Francisco, had risen from the bunks that occupied one half of the big single room, or from the Spartan chairs that surrounded the enormous pot-belly stove in the other half. From that direction came delicious smells of bacon, and a long-simmering stew begun by Vic Rottner, she knew, many hours before. Between the two halves of the room stood the three town benches, identical, it seemed to Alice, to the ones in the meetinghouse.

  “Hello, Joe,” Ken said in an easy voice, shaking Alice’s master’s hand before he looked at the girl who had come to serve him and the men he looked after. When he did turn his eyes on her, Alice’s knees felt weak, because she saw in that gaze all the calm authority that had made her inner life so difficult in her two weeks at Miss Reynolds’ school, when she didn’t know to whom the elders would award her body. All the cool dominance, and none of the resentment that had finally made it clear that Joe Smithers was the right man for her, and Ken Sweeney the wrong one.

  “Hello, Alice,” he said. “Why don’t you go on inside and take off that robe?”

  Alice looked up at Joe, and saw that his face looked grave. He smiled, though, and nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Alice,” he said. “Ken will take good care of you, and I know you’ll be a good girl for him and the other men.”

  Alice swallowed hard, the butterflies in her tummy rising so high she thought they might almost come into her mouth. Joe bent down and gave her a long kiss, and then turned her and urged her inside, his hand on her bottom through the buffalo hide and the warm fur.

  “Thanks, Joe,” she heard Ken say behind her.

  “You’re very welcome, Ken. It’s the least I can do after you’ve been so obliging.”

  Alice entered the room fully, and came within the circle of men in the cocksmen’s robes issued to every male citizen of Brownsville when he arrived in the bunkhouse for the first time. She smelled Vic Rottner’s stew more strongly, now, and it made her tummy rumble despite the butterflies. She and Joe hadn’t spent much time thinking about food, the past few days.

  Vic’s stew remained, but Vic had taken Irma Fenton to live above the new general store. Ken had assigned Irma to Vic, Joe had informed Alice the previous day after getting back from his visit to town to arrange Alice’s bunkhouse night.

  “Ken’s going to stay in the bunkhouse until he finds a girl he really likes, he says,” Joe had told her. That had made her sad, but she had also wondered whether seeing the way Alice was with Joe, despite all the doubts that her very affection inspired, had changed something in Ken.

  It hadn’t changed the basic nature of his mastery, she could see as she heard the bunkhouse door close heavily and turned to see the red-haired man approaching. He might never be as warm a natural man as Joe, though perhaps the right girl would change that. Alice hadn’t been the right girl, but something about that very fact had made her burn down below her fluttery tummy then at Miss Reynolds’ as now in the bunkhouse. Something in Ken’s burning eyes said that he didn’t love Alice, but he would whip and fuck Alice anyway, and that made her newly deflowered pussy ache nearly as much as it did for Joe after he had spanked Alice over his knee.

  No, she finally admitted to herself, just as much. But in a different way.

  “I thought I told you to take off that robe, honey,” Ken said. “Men, let’s get her out of her clothes and get her tied to a bench. She needs a caning for running away, and I promised Joe I’d give it to her.”

  Alice opened her mouth and took a gasping breath, but she said nothing for a moment as the smiling men approached, their expressions of frank lust mirroring Ken’s own. Then, softly, she said, “Oh, no, please.”

  But Ken nodded. “You need it, honey. You know you do.”

  “Yes,” Alice sobbed, and she felt her pussy clench as the hands of all those men took hold of her,
all at once it seemed, and stripped away the robe to leave her naked. They led her to the bench, lay her down over it, and they fastened the straps at wrist and waist and knees.

  “First the cane and then the cocks,” Ken said. “You’re a Brownsville girl now, Alice, no matter how you got here. When Joe comes to take you home tomorrow, he’ll have a well-punished, well-fucked young lady who knows her place. Twenty-four strokes for the trouble you gave this town.”

  Then he started to cane her, before she could even plead for mercy. Alice yelped, then cried out, and finally began to scream with the terrible pain, as the men counted the strokes.

  “Fifteen… sixteen…”

  Alice thought she would faint. How could she have wanted this? She sobbed and sobbed, her tears falling to the floor where her head hung over the end of the town bench. She had strained against the straps at first, as if somehow she could rip through them and run away, but now she only lay there limply, her bottom clenching and unclenching in a vain attempt to ease the pain.

  “Look at that,” she heard one of the men say. “Look how bad she needs a cock in there.”

  Another commented, “Both those holes look tight, don’t they? Ken, can I put my cock in her mouth to quiet her down and get me ready?”

  “No,” Ken said. “We’re almost there, boys. Don’t rush it. I want to hear this girl scream a little more.”

  How could she have felt she needed this? For a moment, as her mind seemed to detach itself from her body the way it had in the town meeting, Alice had the same feeling she had known at Miss Reynolds’ school, before she ran away: that she had gone mad, that she must flee from herself, for the good of everyone.