‘No, thank you,’ he answered. ‘Whatever you may consider my faults, I have no illusions about our relative pulchritude. You are beautiful, and so should be stripped at every opportunity. I am not, and so prefer to stay clothed.’
‘Oh,’ Stephanie answered, irritated and yet also grateful. ‘Won’t you even take your jacket off?’
‘No, thank you,’ he repeated. ‘I prefer to be fully dressed, as I said, and it also emphasises your nakedness.’
Stephanie nodded, already well aware how humiliating it was to kneel at his feet in nothing but pulled-down drawers while he was fully dressed, but for the long, ugly cock and outsize scrotum he had just pulled from his trousers. If anything his genitals were more grotesque than she remembered, and her stomach twitched at the prospect of taking them in her mouth.
‘Um … perhaps you’d like to tug yourself while I show off my bottom?’ she offered. ‘Hermione says you like that.’
‘I do,’ he admitted, ‘but, as perhaps you know, she won’t suck, and I could never make Myrtle do it either, or Florence, or Madeleine, or Roberta.’
‘Roberta? Do you mean Bobbie Drake? Have you spanked Bobbie Drake?’
‘Indeed I have, and a fine struggle the little minx put up before I could get her bottom bare, but to be candid, I didn’t dare ask her to put me in her mouth for fear she might bite. This will be my first time.’
‘Oh.’
He’d taken his cock in his hand and was stroking the already partly engorged shaft and rolling his foreskin back and forth so that a little more of his helmet appeared with every tug. Stephanie watched, unable to pull her eyes away, until the bulbous cock head was fully exposed, glistening and purple in the sunlight.
‘Come along,’ he demanded. ‘Pop it in. You know this is what you wanted.’
Stephanie managed a weak nod, wondering what she could possibly offer to avoid having to suck his penis. Yet it was too late to back out, and if he grew angry her only chance would be gone. Closing her eyes tightly, she shuffled forwards, groping for his cock. Her gorge rose as she touched it, the twisted shaft was hot and unpleasantly moist, and it took all her willpower to make herself go down and open her mouth round the head.
‘Good girl,’ he said, taking her by the hair. ‘That’s not so bad, is it now?’
Her mouth full of cock, Stephanie was unable to give the answer she felt his question deserved. He tasted strongly male, and there was something about the way his cock twisted that made her want to be sick, but he had her firmly by the hair and there was nothing she could do but suck. As her lips and tongue began to work on him he gave a long, low moan and relaxed back into the chair, stroking her hair but still holding her head firmly down in his lap.
‘You are a little trollop, aren’t you?’ he sighed. ‘A lovely, dirty little trollop, just like all the others, only worse. I shall enjoy you, Stephanie. I shall enjoy having you over once a week to suck my penis and display that juicy little bottom for me. Perhaps I shall even have you and Hermione together, side by side for a double spanking … stripped naked. You can dance for me. You can suck while she shows her darling little bouncers and her lovely plump bottom. Are you rude together? I’m sure you are, two little tarts like you, you’re bound to be …’
He trailed off with a grunt and Stephanie braced herself for a mouthful of come, imagining that the thought of her and Hermione together would have been too much for him. It didn’t happen, but he tightened his grip on her head and began to fuck her mouth, his penis twisting in and out between her lips and his outsize balls squashing against her chin with every thrust. Her stomach lurched, and only by swallowing hard did she prevent herself from being sick all over him.
‘Do that again,’ he sighed. ‘I’ll come right down your throat.’
Stephanie shook her head, knowing that if he did she really would be sick.
‘So you want something more, do you? You must be the filthiest girl I’ve ever met, Stephanie.’
He let go of her head and she pulled back gratefully, not sure what he expected but glad to have his cock out of her mouth.
‘Stand up,’ he ordered, leaning forward, ‘and kneel in the chair.’
‘You’re not to take my virginity,’ Stephanie said quickly, ‘but … but you can do it between my cheeks.’
‘Your precious maidenhead is safe with me,’ he assured her. ‘Ah, yes, like that. What a glorious view!’
Stephanie had knelt in the chair, her knees wide and her bottom lifted to show off her cunt and anus and to make a cock slide of her slit. From there she had a clear view of the street outside, and of Dartmoor beyond. She realised with chagrin that passers-by would be able to see her face as he rubbed himself off between her cheeks. His upper body might also be visible, but she knew that everyone would assume she was being given discipline, none would guess the horrid truth.
‘Hold your cheeks apart for me,’ he demanded. ‘I like to see what I’m doing.’
‘You can see,’ Stephanie pointed out, but reached back anyway. ‘You’re doing my bottom.’
She took hold of her cheeks and spread them, stretching her anus open to his view, and to his cock, which he promptly began to rub in her slit. Her face set in a look of bitter resignation, but despite her best efforts to tell herself that the sensation was disgusting, it made her want to push out her bottom. Now that his cock was no longer visible, and out of her mouth, it felt rather nice, the twisted shaft causing delicious sensations as he rubbed it up and down.
‘Your bottom is a true joy, Stephanie, so small and yet so round, and not a trace of hair between your cheeks. You have a pretty bottom hole too, pink and neat, and puckered up like a little mouth. Is it virgin?’
‘Never you mind!’
‘Clearly not, although I can see you’ve not been used often, you’re too tight. So which lucky man has had the privilege? Frederick Drake? Roland Bassinger, perhaps?’
‘No,’ Stephanie admitted sullenly. ‘I’ve only been had once, accidentally.’
‘Accidentally?’ the curate queried, laughing. ‘Nobody sticks his cock up a girl’s bottom by accident, my dear. Tell me what happened.’
As he spoke he took hold of her hips. What she was saying was obviously making him increasingly excited, and her own feelings were getting hard to contain. Swallowing the lump of shame in her throat, she decided to reveal what had been the second most embarrassing incident in her life.
‘It … it was Gussie Fitzroy,’ she said. ‘I was being rude with myself … playing with my bottom, in the bathroom, when nobody was about. I … I was going to touch myself off, and it had just started to feel nice when he came in. I was on my knees, with my eyes shut, and he got on top of me before I could stop him, and … and once he was on my back I couldn’t get him off. I thought he was going to put it in my hole, that he’d take my virginity, so I put my hand back to guard myself, but he’d started to hump on my bottom, and … and his cock caught in my hole and … and I was so slippery it went right in, right up my bottom, and it felt so awfully shameful … but so nice. Why don’t you do it, Porker? Go on, do it to me, sodomise me, stick your horrid, twisty cock up my bottom hole, you filthy pig, you beast … ow!’
He’d slapped her bottom, hard, but he’d also pushed his cock down, pressing the head to her anus. She stayed as she was, sobbing brokenly but with her cheeks held wide for her buggering. He pushed, but instead of sliding in up her rectum as Gussie Fitzroy had, he hurt her.
‘Stop! Stop,’ she gasped. ‘I’m not slippery enough.’
The curate gave a grunt of annoyance and pressed closer, wedging his helmet a little further into Stephanie’s now straining anal ring. He put a cupped hand under her face.
‘Blow your nose,’ he demanded.
‘Blow my nose?’ Stephanie queried, then realised what he intended to do. ‘No! That’s the most revolting thing I ever heard!’
‘Not next to being sodomised by Gussie Fitzroy, it’s not, and I wish to follow his example, so do it. Y
ou should be nice and snotty after making such a fuss over your spanking.’
‘You filthy pig!’ Stephanie exclaimed, and snorted as hard as she could.
‘Thank you,’ the curate replied, and slapped the handful of mucus between her bottom cheeks, smearing it over her anus and the head of his cock.
Stephanie shook her head in wonder, as much for her own behaviour as his, but kept her bottom wide as he pushed once more. Now well lubricated, her anus began to give, not easily, but stretching slowly round his helmet until she was panting and gasping against the back of the chair. Her tears returned, flowing down her cheeks in the sheer emotion of allowing him to push his penis up her bottom. At that instant it was what she wanted more than anything else.
She got it in abundance, his cock driving slowly in, past her gaping ring and up into her rectum, twisting her flesh as it went, until at last she felt the bulk of his scrotum press against her cunt. He gave a pleased groan and began to bugger her, moving his cock slowly in and out of her snot-soiled hole, every push making her juicier and easier. As her body began to rock back and forth she let go of her bottom in order to cling on to the back of the armchair, and he took over, gripping her by the hips with his thumbs holding her reddened cheeks apart so that he could watch her anus pull in and out on his shaft.
Stephanie closed her eyes, abandoning herself to the pleasure of her buggering, no longer ashamed at the sheer ecstasy of having a penis inside her. It was just as it had been with Gussie Fitzroy, with her grovelling on the bathroom floor, not merely content to have him on her back but rubbing herself while he used her. Now she was going to do the same. Her hand went to her sticky, swollen cunt and she began to rub, excited by the sensation of his cock corkscrewing in and out of her, but wanting more.
He was getting close too, grunting and puffing as he buggered her, and she rubbed harder, determined to hit her peak first, while he was still working himself in her rectum. Suddenly he let go of her hips and began to spank her. Immediately she felt her climax start, imagining how she looked, spanked and sodomised by the fat curate, her naked pink bottom stuck high with his cock in the hole up to his balls, with his hands and his great wobbling belly slapping on her naked cheeks as she masturbated in dirty, wanton pleasure at her own utter degradation.
‘That’s right, my little trollop,’ he grunted, ‘rub your cunt, rub your dirty little cunt until you come, you little trollop, Stephanie … my little trollop!’
Stephanie cried out as her orgasm overwhelmed her, and her anal ring tightened on his cock as it twisted in and out of the slippery hole with ever greater speed, only to be suddenly jammed deep. Her bottom hole was still in spasm, and she realised that she was milking his spunk into her rectum, a thought so filthy that she screamed again and hit a second, higher peak. The next moment he whipped his cock free, to jerk frantically on the shaft and send spurt after spurt of thick white come splashing over her hot bottom cheeks and into the still gaping hole between, which closed with a long, soft fart to expel what had just been done up it, all over her cunt and her busy fingers.
She was still coming, and began to rub it in, smearing the mess of spunk and her own juices between her cunt lips as her orgasm subsided in a series of decreasing peaks, to leave her weak and shaking in the chair, sore and filthy, but with a sense of peaceful satisfaction stronger than any she had known before. A long, happy sigh escaped her lips as the curate wiped his cock on her bottom. Then spoke.
‘I expect you would appreciate some toilet paper?’
Stephanie nodded, telling herself that it was pointless to stand on her dignity when she had his spunk oozing out of her bottom hole. Not that she had any dignity left, kneeling spread-legged in the chair with her buggered bottom stuck out and her cunt slippery with their mingled mess, so she stayed as she was, feeling no more than a touch of resentment as he watched her wipe her bottom.
He had still not removed his jacket.
‘Would you be very kind and make me a cup of tea?’ she enquired as she finally climbed stiff-legged from the chair.
‘I’d have thought a brandy would be more in order?’
‘That would be kind,’ she answered, turning to inspect her bottom in a convenient mirror.
She was clean but very red, her cheeks warm and the hole between loose and aching. Shame and embarrassment had begun to return, and as she pulled her drawers up from where they’d fallen round her ankles she struggled to convince herself that her surrender had been necessary. She knew it was a lie, but he was at least in a good mood, and surely there would be some way she could persuade him to take his jacket off and leave the room for long enough to allow her to investigate the inside pocket.
‘Thank you,’ she said as she accepted a large brandy. ‘You are quite wrong, you know, about not going naked.’
‘Why is that?’ he asked.
‘I would have preferred you naked, just now,’ she lied.
‘I think not,’ he answered. He took a swallow of his brandy and turned to look out of the window.
Stephanie bit her lip, wondering how to persuade him, or whether it might be an idea to brain him with the decanter from which he’d just poured the brandy. After sodomising her he almost certainly wouldn’t dare to complain. But before she could find the courage to go through with her scheme he had turned around again.
‘I suppose I’d better pay you,’ he sighed.
‘Pay me!’ Stephanie gasped in outrage. ‘I may be a trollop, Reverend Porthwell, but I am not a … a lady of the night!’
‘Good heavens, no,’ he answered. ‘I wasn’t suggesting anything of the sort. I meant your winnings.’
‘My winnings?’
‘Yes. You wouldn’t know, of course, because you left early, didn’t you, after that frightful incident with Mr Attwater and the Brown Shorts. I cannot, incidentally, approve of you being a member of that organisation –’
‘Never mind the Brown Shorts,’ Stephanie interrupted. ‘Hermione and I have resigned anyway. What about the fat pigs?’
‘There was a stewards’ enquiry,’ he explained, extracting a thick bundle of notes from his jacket pocket, ‘and Mother-in-Law was disqualified. Your grandfather argued that she was not one pig at all but several pigs, as she was obviously about to have a litter. Farmer Urferd has never been popular, and the judges agreed with Sir Richard, which means the Emperor won. That’s four hundred and eighty pounds, isn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ Stephanie managed weakly as her mind ran back over what she had just done, all of it completely unnecessary.
Eight
STEPHANIE RELAXED BACK into her seat, staring idly out of the train window as the familiar Devon countryside moved past at ever increasing speed. Her mouth still tasted of Lias Snell’s cock, but a buffet car was supposed to be joining the train at Exeter and she would be able to get a cup of tea. Otherwise, despite a strong sense of chagrin at being caned, piddled on, spanked so many times she’d lost count and finally sodomised during the course of an unexpectedly complicated Phase Two, she felt the operation was going well. Phase Three at least had begun smoothly.
She and Hermione had risen before dawn, this time with Vera’s knowledge, although the maid thought the girls were going to meet Freddie Drake and Roly Bassinger. They had reached Stukely Hall without difficulty, met up with Lias and lured Singularis Porcus on to the dray with a large bag of apples. Hermione had stayed in the back with the pig, using an economy-size jar of Wilberforce’s Bonny Blonde hair preparation to adjust his colour from black to piebald, while Stephanie sucked Lias’ cock in the front, swallowing what came out to ensure that not too much attention was needed to her make-up once they reached Okehampton station.
The patent hair preparation had been less than fully successful, producing red patches rather than white, but in the bustle of loading the market train for London nobody had paid the least attention. Lias had dealt with the station officials, while Stephanie and Hermione changed from their Brown Shorts uniforms into dresses, and
at precisely three minutes past seven the train had pulled away, with Stephanie aboard and Lias and Hermione waving from the platform.
With no stop until Crediton, well beyond the point at which anybody whose company might have proved awkward was likely to get in, Stephanie felt at ease. There was a long journey ahead, with nothing to do but eat, sleep and contemplate how best to present the pig at Gaspers. A dramatic entrance was essential, and it was probably best to bring him in through the back door once everybody was gathered in the reading room for the vote. That would require the collusion of the staff, but a few well-distributed ten-shilling notes would no doubt work wonders, and ten-shilling notes were something of which she now had an ample sufficiency.
Her mouth set briefly into a hard line at the memory of her buggering, only to soften as she recalled that she herself had ordered the curate to put his cock up her. Nor had her surrender been as unnecessary as she had first supposed, because without the rude conversation they had had while she was being spanked she would never have learnt an extremely significant piece of information – that Myrtle had received the same treatment.
At the time, with her bare bottom warming to the smacks and faced with the prospect of having to deal with the Reverend Benjamin Porthwell’s hideous penis, the information had come as a shock but no more. Only that night, after the application of a generous amount to Sootho to her bottom by Vera, had the implications sunk in. She no longer felt in awe of Myrtle, the spell broken by the image of her lover, tormentor and arch-rival squealing and kicking across the fat curate’s knee with piddle squirting from her open cunt. Nobody who had had that done to her could possibly be as superior as Myrtle pretended.
In future, she decided, things would be different. There would be no more abject surrender, no more submission of her will to Myrtle’s desire. With luck there might even be revenge, and, as her mind started to dwell on the possibilities, for the first time in years her ideas seemed not only highly satisfying but appropriate. The only problem was thinking up something horrible enough to compensate for all the things Myrtle had done to her across the years: the spankings, the canings and strappings and sessions with the hairbrush or gymshoe, being piddled on, being made do to striptease and exercise in the nude, licking quims and kissing bottoms, being made to masturbate in front of an amused and interested audience, and, above all, the occasion that was the single most embarrassing incident of Stephanie’s life.
Portrait of a Disciplinarian Page 19
