by AnonYMous
“In that Selina spoke the truth, my dear, for Emily is a veritable cock-teaser and one who needs to be brought to the rod. Had you entered her bedroom upon the right moment then Selina would have had no need to recourse to the dildo. Why did you not?”
“Because, my love, that would be incest,” Lord C. replied with such amusing solemnity that I opened my legs to him at last and allowed him to roll upon me. His body, being firm and muscular, pleased me.
“You f...f...fool,” I stammered at the proud nestling of his cock within my slit, “that is a description and not an excuse.”
Thereupon, however, we entered into such a rage of lust that naught was heard save for our moans as his long, thick pestle worked back and forth in my silky channel. I tightened the lips and squeezed my muscles within, all the better to feel the ridging of his knob. I yielded, I came. Scarcely was such a moment ever more delightful. Knotting my stockinged legs tightly around his waist I spurted out my tributes in a seemingly never-ending stream, my bottom cupped so firmly on his hands that the lower half of my body was all but lifted in the air.
“How superbly you fuck! Come! come in my cunt!” I breathed, and though given little to such utterances could not help myself on this occasion, having seen what we had seen and enjoyed ourselves already in a long preliminary. Indeed so abundant was his jetting that my bush and thighs were lathered and I felt myself swimming in delicious sin. Tingling sweetly within me, his fervent cock withdrew at long last and rubbed itself amourously in a last salute against my sticky lips.
“We shall do it again later,” he husked, falling rather limp beside me.
Thereat I leaned up and kissed his nose. “We may or we may not, for I am sure Selina will be in a hot state to receive you, and as for Emily—must not her training proceed a stage further now?”
“No, my dear, for as much as I wish it and indeed would love to probe her quim, I cannot. They are such fair creatures, both. What a pity—in such a sense as you will understand what I mean—that she is not my ward, as Selina is.”
I answered him not, having my own thoughts upon such matters. A stiff cock in the night is worth two spent ones in the day, whoever it might belong to and I sensed that Selina would share my view. She was, after all, very much akin to Pearl in nature and close to myself in age. How well she had dealt with Emily was plain from that young lady's quiet demeanour for the rest of the day, Selina making no bones about asking me whether I had enjoyed my time with Lord C. and whether he had watched the whole proceedings.
“All was viewed and all was done,” I replied succinctly, “but tell me Selina of your ideas about training Emily.”
“Do I really have to tell YOU?” she replied in a manner intended to be complimentary. “The issue is simple, Arabella. Soon enough she will go on to her brother's cock, for she will not be able to resist it, but she is still backward in this respect and hence I have to ensure that she does my bidding. It is very pleasant, indeed thrilling, to see a girl kick and struggle a little while she is being brought to pleasure, is it not? I believe that you yourself know this more than you tell. I intend no evil in dear Emily's respect, of course. It is simply that she must learn to obey. When she does, the freedom of pleasures shall be hers. A girl who did not want to be strapped would start up and struggle—even fight, perhaps. She bends not to my will because her Papa ordains it, but because the heat and the stinging of the tawse lure her even against her will. It is an erotic pleasure that she will not admit to. I began by smacking her bottom quite gently with my hand—as Lord C. did to me years before. She spilled her juices several times upon my thighs before I knew her ready for the leather.”
“There are great pleasures to be gained therefrom, it is true,” I replied, “but what do you intend next with her, for I am sure she has been exhibiting herself before you in toying with George's cock when she must have known you were watching.”
“Today, of course, she was really caught out, Arabella. During the picnic, that is. But as to the rest, I agree with you. If therefore she wishes to flaunt, she must do it properly, as you will see this evening.”
Disclosing no more to me of her plans, Selina made me wait until the hour for dinner approached at eight that evening, at which time Lord C. complained of Emily's lateness in coming down. To this Selina replied simply that Emily had already eaten in her room and would be brought down later after coffee had been served. To this his lordship replied “Aah” and gazed at her in wild surmise, but Selina's expression was such as brooked no questions. The meal then passed in its usual leisurely fashion after which—the servants having been dismissed—we took coffee and liqueurs in the lounge before Selina absented herself, saying she would not be long and would bring Emily down.
“Seat yourselves both on the chaise longue. A kiss or two between you will not go amiss,” she smiled.
“What on earth is to do?” Lord C. asked me in astonishment, while I—taking Selina rather beyond her word as I guessed she intended me to—made bold to lay my hand on his crotch and offer my lips to his.
“But... but if they come down soon...!” he expostulated, little knowing the rare mood that had come over me.
“Kiss me, you fool, and show me your cock. Did you not promise to do me again?” I wheedled, so caressing the back of his neck with one hand and his penis with the other that my ardour soon overcame his scruples. Indeed, I had his prick out—stiff and rubicond—and my tongue in his mouth at the very moment that the doorhandle rattled slightly, a squeal sounded, and Emily was brought into the room with Selina holding her ear very much as a schoolboy might be led to the front of the class.
Seeing her Papa's stiff penis in my grasp and my bodice full unbuttoned to show my breasts, Emily shrieked—as well she might have done in any case, for her attire consisted solely of black patterned stockings, bootees that buttoned up to her well-rounded knees, and a translucent pink robe that floated full open to display the superbly rounded figure beneath. The jellied mounds of her snow-white tits jiggled as she was pushed into the centre of the room, the springy curls of her Venus mount showing dark against the pure silky sheen of her lower belly where her thighs dipped in enticingly. A groan from her sire announced that he had seen all. His cock pulsed in my palm.
“Oh-woh-woh!” sobbed Emily, vainly endeavouring to keep her shapely legs together.
“The naughty girl—I caught her playing with herself. She is naughty beyond compare. I smacked her bottom well, I can tell you. Turn around, Emily, and show it.”
“NO!” Emily shrieked, but of course to no avail whatever, for Selina's grip on her ear was as strong as a clamp and in a trice she was whirled about to show the delicious cleft moon which Selina's palm had rendered a most enticing pink. “Arabella, will you not save me? Oh, the shame of being exposed so in front of Papa!”
“Is she not lovely?” came my sole response, addressed of course to Lord C. who sat in wonder at this spectacle, seemingly feeling that now that he had exhibited himself to her, he might as well go on doing so. Indeed, the more he saw as Emily was turned about and about, the more his cock reared, if that were possible, she making time and again to cover her face and each time having her hands smacked away. Led to a further corner then and facing into it, so she was made to stand.
“Do NOT move, Emily, or your bottom will be the worse for it,” Selina announced, giving those bouncy cheeks an extra SMACK which brought a howl from her. Then, moving suavely across the room, she sat upon the opposite side of Lord C. and nestled her head against his shoulder. “She is not a bad girl, really—merely mischievous,” she said in a tone which might have done something to assuage poor Emily's feelings as she stood all huddled up.
“Herrumph! I, yes...,” stammered his lordship uncertainly while—bending over him then—Selina gave the stiff cock that I was fisting a pretty kiss upon its purplish nose.
“Oh-oh, I want to DIE!” screeched Emily suddenly, “Selina, I HATE you!” and therewith she made a sudden rush for the door only to
find that Selina had not only turned the key but pocketed it.
“You see, she is still wilful,” Selina observed in a voice of great apparent sadness and gave then Emily's bottom such a loud SMACK that the young lady leapt a full two inches from the floor and danced all about, holding it and wriggling in the most enticing manner. “EMILY, you may go to bed. To bed, Miss!” snapped Selina. Producing then the key—no doubt to Emily's vast relief—she unlocked the door, whereupon that young lady moved so fast that but a blur of her shapely legs and well-rounded bottom was seen before she was heard scampering up the stairs.
“Well, then, I think we shall to bed, Arabella,” then said Selina to my surprise, for it was comparatively early yet. Even so I caught the signals in her eyes and, giving his lordship's pecker a little peck, I rose and went to her.
“But here, I say!” came his immediate and rather plaintive cry.
“Perhaps you would settle Emily down—would you?” Selina asked him beguilingly and then drew me out, suppressing her uprising giggles as best she could. Seeing my expression caused her even more mirth, though being as quick-witted as she, I understood well what was about. Besides, I wanted her and well she knew it. Her room, having a double bed—for the most obvious of reasons— we were soon ensconced naked together between the sheets, our erected nipples rubbing together.
“You thought us all to have an orgy together, of course,” she murmured, “but I am quite sure that Emily would have felt shamed in the aftermath. One must consider the sensibilities.”
“Indeed, one must ever do that. An orgy in such circumstances would have been most unseemly, Selina. Let me tongue you,” I added for good measure, slipping my face down between her lustrous thighs while she jiggled her hips and pressed the moist rolled lips of her quim to my mouth.
“Ooooh, how nicely you do it—give me more—work your tongue,” she moaned while I, manouevring myself sensuously around and slithering all upon her, finally impressed my bottom over her face so that we indulged ourselves in a long and delicious soixante-neuf and in this and various other ways passed the most fulfilling of hours so that the trials of Emily were all but forgotten. Only when we lay at last in liquid languor, having refreshed ourselves through numerous libations so that our bodies throbbed most agreeably, did I remember.
“Shall we go and see if she was well settled?” I murmured while Selina's long eyelashes tickled my cheek and our arms enfolded each other warmly.
“I wonder if we are not all of a kind—you, I and Emily,” responded she obliquely to my question, “for while a good stiff cock is to be savoured at all times, so even more in some respects is a woman's tongue. But yes, let us slip along to her room for a moment.”
So, donning each a light robe, we made our way silently to Emily's bedroom, there to find her lying on her back, naked to her stockings with the bedclothes just below her knees and her eyes closed. Upon our entrance, she opened her eyes, gazed at us in bleary-eyed surprise and then immediately doubled herself up and turned to the wall with a little mewing sound that so caught my heart that I was the first to fall beside her and gather her into my arms. There being but one oil lamp lit, I could yet see and feel the flushed nature of her velvety cheeks. Presenting her bottom to me as she was, I sensed the delicious palpitations she was still evidently experiencing and—passing my hand swiftly under the lustrous cheeks—felt a betraying pulpiness and creaminess all about her cunt.
“Let me feel, too,” laughed Selina softly and, while I withdrew my sticky fingers, felt Emily all about her quim while she squealed softly and attempted feebly to smack our fingers away.
“Oh-oh, do go away—how naughty you both are!” Emily moaned.
“Oh, listen to who is talking! 'Tis you who have been naughty, have you not, and have had the best of it into the bargain. A good spanking, my sweet, is ever the best preparation for young ladies in taking the cock for the first time.”
“I don't know what you mean! Oh go away, do. I hate you, Selina, you know I do.”
“Stuff and nonsense. You love me dearly, as do I you. Give me but one kiss now and you can cuddle your creamy pussy and have a lovely sleep.”
“No—won't, I won't,” mumbled Emily, but having her face turned by Selina and I cuddling her from behind, she surrendered her lips as might a young girl being kissed for the first time. As she did so, I passed my hands up beneath her marbled tits and cupped them fondly. Peaking ardently to my thumbs, her nipples quivered as I caressed them, causing her lips to splurge more fondly beneath Selina's who, sitting upon the rather crowded single bed, leaned over her.
“Was it not nice, being naughty? You have had your legs opened at last and a good stiff cock working in your cunt at last. You see what good my training did for you?”
“D...d...didn't! Oh, the naughty things you say! Go away!”
At that I rose and drew Selina up. “Come—she has had her fill. Let her but dream upon it,” I whispered, to which Selina nodded and drifted with me to the door, casting one look back at Emily who hastily covered herself and turned her face to the wall.
Upon the dark of the landing we stood then for a moment, I casting open my peignoir and pressing my warm belly to Selina's. Our tongues met. Our hands passed beneath each other's moist quims. “How I would have loved to see her bottom bouncing to it,” I murmured thickly. The passion of the dark upon such occasions always arouses me. Our thighs spread lewdly as we caressed one another.
“You shall, my pet, for she will have to be put up to it again tomorrow. You are more sensuous a girl than I have ever known. What delights we shall have!”
CHAPTER seventeen
All does not always proceed, of course, as one would have it. On the morrow I had cause to return home, for Mama was unwell and Papa was uneasy at my long and constant absences. Being of a tactful and kindly nature, he ventured few questions of me, however, for which I was grateful, giving me pause to consider how different indeed was my own domestic environment from the many I had experienced.
There is naught to be wondered about this, however, as I have long since learned. Each house, each residence, each manor—and indeed each lowly cottage and “model home”—as the phrase now is—becomes unto itself an island to which visitors come and from which they go, their intrusions leaving all unchanged, or slightly changed, or much affected. Within our enclosures we are all as natives who speak a different private language even to that of our neighbours. I have been into many a house where all outside seemed identical or much of a muchness, and yet within there reigned such varying degrees of decorum, dullness, boredom or loose and wanton living such as constantly intrigues and bemuses me.
I would kiss Papa frequently and he me, but never would his hands stray to any part of my person nor mine to his. It is not so much that such acts between us would have been unseemly as merely impossible. Such is my homily, about which I have been given occasionally to philosophising to Pearl.
“Oh, people are different,” is her sole response, and indeed I have good cause to know that there is not much to add to that save by way of extrapolation and repetition. There arose between she and I a private language, if such it may be called. Thus upon sight of a comely young lady one or other of us might say, “There goes a possible one,” or “What a nice bottom she has,” or indeed, “How I would love to take her to bed or have her put to a lusty male.”
Such remarks stirred us constantly, though to the outer world we were but two well-dressed and undoubtedly attractive females who went the ordinary way of the world.
“Tell me then what is sin?” I asked her once.
“Why, that is simple, Arabella, darling. Sin is the causing of pain or grief, mental or physical, to others, by whatever means and in whatever way. That in my simple view is all one can say of it. Naughtiness is not a sin, but is merely mischievous. Do you count us as having committed a sin, or caused such to others?”
I thought deeply upon this question and decided we had not. For this I shall doubtless be la
belled by prudes and those of great stuffiness as a hypocrite. So be it. There is a lewdness—a mischief of lewdness—that dwells in all, whether it be the schoolmistress who takes her satisfaction from birching the bottoms of young ladies or the gentleman who merely wishes that he could follow her example but does not dare to. We who obtain the leisure accorded to us by wealth fare better by far than others. The wife left bereft of a husband who has turned to whores descends perhaps into poverty, which I count a most terrible occurrence. Both are at fault, of course, for she knew not how to entertain him, nor he how to be entertained. There is no solace, as I have often heard men declare, in the arms of a gay girl who lives but to fill her purse from each cock she receives. Better a warm hearth and several warm bottoms than a cheerless home or the over-rumpled and generally tawdry bed of a whore.
So much, indeed, I said most earnestly to Pearl who laughed at my then attempted earnestness.
“Come, dear, the truth of it is that we love fucking and equally love watching others at the game. For what else is it, if the truth be told? Not a girl we have ever put up to the cock has since regretted it. Indeed, she has become all the merrier for it and has blossomed out no end.”
“True,” I laughed, though for all my philosophising I would often ask of such a maiden afterwards, “Was it nice? Did you enjoy it?” Not all give truthful replies, of course, for they wish to be thought demure still and are taken frequently by surprise at their own lubricity—the pleasures of which they have been brought to realise. All temper their desires, too, for that is the way of woman. Such meagre adventures as I have recounted did not all take place within the compass of a month nor even six. The writing down of them but compresses them. I have frequently gone without a cock or another woman's tongue for a month in order that I might then enjoy the next encounter the more. Those who write of endless orgies are fools and charlatans who know no better than to constantly invent what they have never experienced, nor have the wit to bring about.
