I knew not how to think as we arrived, and no more did Adelaide perhaps. Caroline exuded only happiness. In the hallway of her house where the glass eyes of the stags' heads gazed into eternity, she squeezed my hand in the manner of a child arriving at a party. Adelaide walked on ahead, accompanied by Lady Somner. She held her back straight and her shoulders square. I loved her muchly in that moment, proud and graceful as her carriage was.
“Surely your Mama did not mean…” I whispered to Caroline who did not permit me to end the sentence, but knew well enough what I meant.
“Dearest, 'twill only be twelve strokes with the cane, or six if she is very good,” she answered.
Alarm filled me. I confess it. Was Caroline's nature after all so like to a chameleon's skin that she could change from honeyed words to such a cool appraisal of castigating poor Adelaide's bare bottom?
“But I cannot permit!” I uttered all too feebly, whereat I was shushed, my hand squeezed tighter. Lady Somner and my sister had preceded us already into the drawing room. I heard a gruff but cultured voice, the ownership of which I did not doubt, no more than did my love.
“Come, you must meet Papa,” she said, and led me in to make my first acquaintance with her sire-a man of goodly stature with a goatee beard who greeted me most courteously.
“You are to marry Caroline,” he said with some abruptness.
“If I may, sir, yes.”
“I have no doubt you may and that you will, if such she wishes. Come-let us have a toast to it.”
I felt as though I had been shuffled into a new life, just as a card is shuffled in a pack. All was a whirl, a swirl, yet done with grace. Caroline kissed her Papa-then Adelaide was drawn to do the same. He kissed them both upon the mouth and with no undue haste, thus causing my sisters eyes to look confused before she was drawn down on an ottoman to sit with Lady Somner who remarked immediately on her prettiness.
“And a perfect figure, insofar as I can see. You will stay with us, my dear? Have you played games today?” Lord Somner asked, running the sentences so closely into one another that they seemed as one.
“Masters and Mistresses-or rather, we made a beginning to it, Arnold. Adelaide is of course not fully tutored yet,” replied his wife, whereat my sister received amid her blushes another full appraisal from his eyes which swept up from toes to head. I thought him about to speak to her, but instead he turned to me.
“You believe in tuition, Harry,” I was asked.
“Indeed he does, Papa. We all are keen to learn,” said Caroline while I sat dumb. I wished myself both there and yet a thousand miles away, as often was my nature then. I thought of the “hut,” our jokes thereon, and wished us there in all our secret lovings and in our pleasures.
I was then fixed with a piercing glance from our host as if in sorrow that I had not spoken. I felt a lack in me that I had not.
“The fact is, dear fellow,” he began, and then appeared quite ludicrously to become aware of the presence of the ladies for the first time and asked if we might be excused. At that, Lady Somner rose and drew Adelaide up with her, saying it was natural that we wished to talk alone and that they would show Adelaide to her room and make her acquainted with the house. I thought my sister then to throw me a most appealing glance, shifted uneasily, rose at their exit and then sat down again to have my glass refilled. There was to be more solemn talk of marriage now, I thought.
“Harry, it is said that all females are, like cats, grey in the dark, but I have never found either of the species so,” Lord Somner began and then went on, “The truth of the matter is that there are the willing and unwilling, the sleek of figure and the plump. There are women whose bottoms are like well-filled balloons and whose breasts are heavy- needing the support of stays and such. Such are invariably well-furred between their thighs and wriggle to the merest touch. There are-contrariwise-the younger slimmer girls, such as your sister, such as Caroline. Their bottoms are like polished apples and their breasts are pumpkins, swollen up with promise. Their nests are often tighter and their curls more crisp. It is delightful to feel them when they come fresh from a bath, their cunny-hairs brushed up and dried, but the lips beneath a little moist with joy. Their mouths are fresher, though at times more shy. When such, they must be conquered, must they not?”
I swallowed some wine and wiped my mouth. I felt it best not to reply. I had not expected such and knew not what to say.
“You agree, dear chap? Well-excellent! It shows advancement for your age. Now, as to our little games, I will tell you this. The ladies-and indeed the girls whom they have helped to nurture-fancy themselves as playing the dominant Mistress over us sometimes. This I do not mind, odd as it may seem to you. It brings the pecker up. Yet the secret of the little matter is that we are the Masters all the time, and well they know it! In reality the games are a disguise to nourish and bring on desire where otherwise it might prove shy. You follow me?”
“Sir? I, yes…I believe I do.” I watched him rise and pace around the room.
“Your dear sister, now. She has committed some small peccadillo, has she not? I take my lady's word upon the point. Maybe she did it to attract attention to herself. In any event, she has to be inducted here as all young ladies are who stay beneath our roof. The compensations are such, however, that she will not refuse, I know. I understand she sports well. Is that so?”
I gulped; I blushed, and choked out simply, “Sir…?”
“You have no need to answer me, dear boy. A gentleman does not speak directly on such points as concern those close or dear to him. One does not speak of females, young or more mature, as chattels-they are far too precious, are they not? But women are sly, dear boy: they weigh the pros and cons. They squeal oftimes, may even struggle. Do not be dismayed at that; do not withdraw the lordly prick, but watch their eyes. They always signal the true pleasure they obtain. I may attend upon your sister now?”
“But, sir, I…”
“At the last, dear Harry, watch her eyes. The caning of her bottom will be light, I promise you.”
“But if it should pain her overmuch…”
“Dear Harry, one has always that in mind. A young girl's bottom possesses richer layers than that of the male. There is a great art to the application of the cane, the birch, the strap-as you will learn. The object is to sting, to spur, to bring them on. How happily you will observe her pleasure afterwards!”
He moved then to the door. I could not help but follow. How bizarre it seemed, and yet I followed up. The silk wall-coverings were blue and gave a soft tone to the air, the banisters high-polished and the carpets thick. Moving along the landing we encountered Lady Somner who appeared from a bedroom wherein I heard some fretful though quiet sounds from Adelaide.
“All is prepared, Arnold. The girls are ready. Harry- come with me. Into our camera obscura, as I call it, though it is not really so, but gives the finest view.”
I was a mannikin, I felt. My hand was taken like a child's. While her husband advanced upon the bedroom where Adelaide and Caroline were, I was led into a small adjoining room wherein were chairs, an ottoman, wine bottles, glasses on a rosewood stand. The door closed.
“You will see all from here, Harry. Have no dismay upon the matter, for your sister will enjoy. Kneel up the ottoman. Now-look!”
So saying, Lady Somner pressed a small black button in the wall and drew quite noiselessly to one side a long panel so artfully contrived that it split the wall-covering without a crease and permitted a view into the bedroom, the gap being but an inch in width, but quite enough to show a panoramic view. There within I saw a double bed, the end of which faced the wall. Upon it, covering her face, sat Adelaide, stripped to her gartered stockings and her little boots. Beside her, with an arm around her waist was Caroline who looked equally bewitching in a small black guepiere, or waist corset, above the lace of which her nipples peeped. As usual, she wore no drawers and, her legs being slightly apart, I saw her muff. Her stockings, too, were black and gartered tight. Instead of boots she wore small mules whose toes turned up like Turkish ones. In her left hand she held a cane that lay across my sister's thighs. At the entry of her Papa, she smiled and moved the cane like a bow across a violin. As to Adelaide, she covered up her face.
“She has promised to be good, Papa.”
“Oh, Caroline, I…”
“Why, darling, shush! You promised and you know you did. Stand up and show Papa your bottom. Turn around!”
“No! Oh!”
How ruthless was my love in making her obey! Swift as a tigress so she hauled up Adelaide and spun her round to show her polished globe. In the same moment, Lady Somner kneeled beside me on the ottoman and ran her hand round my trouser front.
“Be not dismayed, Harry. Her bottom was indulged while you were still in innocence,” she murmured. Before I could reply, she turned my face to hers and sleeked her tongue within my mouth while fingering my buttons at the front and drawing out my tool into her hand. “She was exercised before, Harry, as she is about to be. You know it well, I think, so do not make a sound.”
With that, I could not help myself and sucked upon her tongue. My prick was iron-hard in a trice. I thought of Adelaide returning from her ridings in the past and going flushed into the bath, sperm floating on the water from her rosy hole, as no doubt it did from Bertha's, too.
In such moments I am weak-becoming sightless in excitement. In those seconds my entire vision was filled by the perfumed blur of Lady Somner's face, her heavy-lidded eyes, the silken lashes that tickled to my cheeks, the mountainous tits that sought the lewd caressing of my palm, and which they now received.
“Neee-yeeek!” I heard from Adelaide and tried to tear my mouth away from the engaging one. How perfectly I fell into the trap, so doing, for Lady Somner was then able to upbraid me for my apparent eagerness to watch my sister being caned.
“No, Harry dear, not yet. Wait till her bottom's striped a little more,” she breathed, thus as it were admonishing me for the apparent impatience of my lewd desires while in my ears also sounded an ensuing cry of “thoooo-wah!” from my sister, for whom I feared. Not until another quavering screech rent the air was I permitted to take my view again, whereat the door to our secret room opened and Caroline slid in. I did not turn to look at her, however, for my eyes were utterly absorbed upon the bedroom scene.
Adelaide, her thighs pressed to the rolled side of the bed, her legs apart, was bowed right down, face cupped within her palms and bottom rearing up, its marble whiteness streaked with pink where the fierce cane-as I then thought of it-had seared. Behind her, slightly to one side, stood Lord Somner, cane in hand, his trousers bulging at the front. Even as I watched he skimmed her wriggling bottom once again-and note, dear reader, I say skimmed, for thus it was. The motion of the punitive instrument (though I observed it not finely and had it shown to me afterwards) was that of sleeking across the polished hemispheres rather than striking deep into the sensuously-wriggling orb they formed.
“Noo-noo-nooo!” sobbed Adelaide, her lovely tight bottom rotated much as does a small ball when placed on top of a fierce jet of water, her hips swivelling as though she were striving to shake off the dire stinging of the cane.
How cowardly I felt-for again I wished to shout out, “No!” in echoing of my sisters own sweet, plaintive cries, but already my ardent stem throbbed out in the enclosing palm of Lady Somner, and with some faint squeaking of the ottoman I was joined on the other side by Caroline who boldly opened up the gap the more through which we peered, for she knew well enough that my sister would give no attention to the distant wall. Her palm engaged my balls and drew them out the while her mother frigged my cock.
“How well she does, Mama, does she not?” asked Caroline in quite a breathless tone.
“Indeed she does-just as I knew she would, my pet.”
Already I wanted to come, but I gritted my teeth and held back my spermaceous flow. Their cheeks-warm-velvety-both pressed to mine. I knew nothing so lewd before, nor nothing so exciting as this was. My breathing sounded coarsely, as did theirs. Groping Lady Somner's skirt, I rolled it up and felt her large, plump bottom naked to my hand-my other being already engaged under Caroline's sweet globe and, with reaching fingers, feeling both their twats.
“Whee-hee-heee!” squealed Adelaide, for the cane appeared to meet her harder then and made her heated bottom writhe the more. Its cheeks were strawberries and cream and looked as luscious as they ever did.
“One more, and then Papa will cork her,” came from Caroline.
No sooner had she spoken than “zeee-aah!” sounded from Adelaide whose glowing orb received the fiercest and most biting sweep that caused her back to arch, her head to rise, both hands pressed down upon the counterpane.
“Down, Girl! Head and shoulders down!” barked Lord Somner who, without ado, cast down the cane and ripped his trousers open at the front, displaying to our view a massive prick thick as the handle of a garden broom and twice as long as Adelaide's slim, opened hands. At that her hips were clamped in his strong grasp and motionless were held as his stiff tool approached her hot-seared cheeks, the swollen crest urging between the riven hemispheres.
“Nooo-ah! Oh, it's too big, too big!” shrieked Adelaide whose titties swung, her torso twisting while he nubbed it deeper in, we viewing all in profile-the thick, throbbing stem engaged between her pink-scorched, cheeks. I watched her teeth distinctly grit, her eyes roll up, her head shake madly-all to no avail. He held her as an eagle holds a smaller bird and then-succeeding in engaging her tight nether hole-clamped tightly on her neck with his right hand and held her head down while he urged it in.
“Goo-ah! Goo-ah! Oh, no!” my sister choked. Her eyes bulged, hands clawed, but by then Lord Somner had sunk his yearning tool half in and thus with straddled legs he stood, his trousers slipping down to show his trundle-like thighs, his swollen balls.
A burbling came from Adelaide. Her shoulders sank the more, her bottom seemed to rear to him as if in abject surrender to his lordly whim.
“There, my girl, you are taking cock where all young ladies should,” he croaked.
“Oh, no more, please-oh sir!” and yet her cry was softer then, he standing statue with his prick half up her stricken bottom.
“Quiet now! You'll learn discretion thus! Were your Mama here, would you make alarms?” he growled at her-this admonition seeming to confuse my sister who fell quiet save for her intermittent sobs. Another inch she then received in her tight hole. Her face turned sideways and her eyes seem quite to stare into my own, though in all truth she saw naught, as she afterwards confessed. Or rather, saw naught but her own lewd dreams, as I suspected. “Give me your bottom, girl. Come now-or you'll receive the cane again. How else can you be trained?” he croaked.
“I… Oooh! Oooh! oh! gar-haaar!” came then from Adelaide, for with one mighty surging of his powerful hips, he corked her to the full and held her bottom cheeks pulsating, wriggling to his flesh, bringing a moaning cry from her, whereat he was then still again and indeed was “stilling” her as I learned it was called. Without restraint I then inserted a digit in each of the bottomholes that were at that moment prey to my own hands, receiving from both Lady Somner and my own dear love and eager, husky “Yes!” in full accord. Indeed, their hips surged back and forth, my balls rolling on the palm of Caroline while her libertine Mama caressed my horny prick.
“Did you not hear our moans, our cries?” I asked my sister afterwards. Naive as the question was, I failed to comprehend the utterly overwhelming sensations she had endured.
“I saw naught, I heard naught save for my own moans. I scarce knew where I was, Harry. I had not taken a prick as big in my bottomhole for years.” She blushed and dropped her head and still was timid-to tell me all, and yet I knew. I recall our sitting on the bed together-that is to say, the one she had afterwards been accorded. I recall stroking her cheek and bringing her soft lips again and again to my own in the sweetest of kisses. I recall caressing the polished gourds of her tits whose nipples remained stiff and eager for hours after she had once been put to her trials by cane and cock. Once more, indeed, for she confessed to me at last that it was Papa who had first cleaved her bottom cheeks after bringing the crop to her bare bottom and then stilling her by burying his penis slowly in her wriggling bottom.
“How badly you will think of me,” she sobbed, but I- a little wiser then-sensed that odd mixture of mutiny and surrender that brings so many girls to yield to the insurgent sperm, the throbbing rod of flesh to which their satiny globes must yield.
“You minx-you enjoyed it.” I chided her tenderly. She laughed despite herself and allowed me to bear her back and urge myself between her stockinged legs.
“I suppose you did it with Caroline while you were watching,” she rejoined.
“You enjoyed it,” I repeated, determined to be the victor.
“Perhaps I did.” A low gasp from her. By then my cock was already slipping upwards into the oily, silky recesses of her cunny whose walls gripped my cock spongily as if they had never received one before. “It feels rude,” she said, “but lovely once it's right up and you get u… u… used to it… Oh, Harry!”
Our tongues were licking out their love-game once again. We had been left alone to our pleasure by the Somners and by Caroline. There were dreams, desires, we did not speak of even in the bout. The best are always hidden in the mind and are as condiments to fleshly bliss. “That which cannot be spoken of, or is expressed only in broken, tattered words, is always the best of it,” so Caroline has truly said. The images form, are tenuous as silk scarves in the breeze, are butterflies, will not be caught nor rendered into words, for words are frozen things, are but the coinage of desire and may be freely interchanged, whereas desires are convoluted and will not uncoil to trap themselves within an alphabet.
“The only dictionary of love is in the eyes. The lonely and uncared for pick at cobwebs in the night, and cobwebs have no pages. Such a nonsense are my words, and yet you'll find them true.”
The words were Adelaide's, long after we had entered into this strange life.