BREAKFAST was ever a quiet affair, broken only by the movements of the servants about us, the tinkling of cups and spoons and the careful sounds of knives and forks such as are made by gentlefolk in eating.
Papa looked as dapper as ever, his goatee beard being well trimmed, though his face a trifle pale. My stepmother appeared to defer to him, being gentle in her talk, though now and again it seemed but a cloak for the proddings she gave him such as to his business and the estate. Occasionally he would appear to begin to offer a light opposition to her views, then her magnetic eyes would meet his and he would wipe his mouth hastily with a napkin, take a further sip of coffee and say for all the world as if he had made the suggestions himself, “Of course, my pet-this is how things should be:”
Indeed when he made that remark I saw Sarah’s lip curl a little and positively hated her for it. Our stepmother, I believe, did not miss the facial gesture for she gazed at her sharply, went on eating for a moment, and then said, “We shall go to the summerhouse immediately after breakfast, Sarah.”
“Oh, I do not wish to,” replied my sister pertly.
“I said we shall go,” came the quiet and cutting reply. Papa gazed from one to the other.
“Sarah might prefer to go riding,” he murmured.
“She will have plenty of riding to do, William-I shall see to that as I shall to all else,” came the reply whereat a silence fell. Sarah flushed and pushed a piece of bacon away with her fork. Robert appeared to be in tremulous excitement. As for myself, I seemed to draw strength from merely gazing at my stepmother who radiated as ever a positive aura and glow of confidence such as I believe is given to few women. I thought of strange things-the roundness of her bottom on the seat, Robert’s prick upstanding the night before and how he might have disposed of her drawers without the maid finding them when she did his room. I glanced at Sarah’s breasts and saw how beautifully rounded they were. Such thoughts had never entered my head before and yet I felt no strangeness at them nor even immodesty. All was surely as it was and must be. So perhaps was the basis of my own philosophy then formed. Above all I bathed in the glow of our stepmother who I knew would be victorious, though if asked in what I would have been unable to answer.
“Robert, you have my instructions,” she next said and, though there was otherwise silence, it seemed to deepen as her voice ceased.
He nodded and appeared too awed to speak. No sooner were we done and Papa risen-for in such small matters all etiquette was observed-than my brother went out, passing through the conservatory into the garden where I wondered much what he was to do. Our stepmother rose next.
“Come upstairs, Sarah. I wish to speak to you,” she uttered in a tone that brooked no refusal.
My sister stirred pettishly in her seat, avoiding my glance, then got up and followed. As my stepmother reached the door with Sarah in train, she turned and said gently to me, “You will be in attendance, Clara. Wait in the conservatory.”
“Yes,” I replied simply. The door closed and I wished to move but could not. Some urgent wish impelled me to know what my sister’s fate might be and so after a moment I daringly followed, creeping up the wide staircase until I was within sight and sound of our stepmother’s room.
“Take them off this moment, Sarah!” I heard her say and then a smacking sound and a small cry from my sister.
“Oh, why must I?” she wailed, then another smack.
“Because I tell you. Leave them on the bed now. Are you not cooler thus without your drawers? You have no need to wear them in the house, nor in summer out of doors. I am mindful as to all your ways, Sarah, though you believe it not. Tidy your hair again-you may use my brush-I wish you to be looking your best. A little rouge upon your cheeks now.”
“I don’t like it, though.”
“It is not a question of what you think you like, Sarah. Rub it well in and smooth it out towards the edges-so. Let me look at you. Your eyes do not glisten as they should. I shall have to smarten you up. Come!”
Oh good heavens, with what fearful trepidation I scurried down lest I be caught! All too breathlessly I reached the conservatory and stood demurely, giving Sarah a sweet smile that she appeared to resent for her mouth was set and quite a scowl upon her face. As she went out upon the lawn my stepmother paused and murmured to me quickly, “In three or four minutes, Clara, come-come to the summerhouse.” A swish of her skirts and she was gone, following Sarah at a pace and indeed I saw my sister glance half anxiously once over her shoulder and then quicken her steps.
There was to be discipline of sorts, I knew that-and no doubt for the way she had curled her lip at table. I did not wish her hurt, though, and so waited with one finger in my mouth as I was still then wont to. I was far from calm and felt my pulses ticking. A small seizure of panic came over me and I wanted to run after them but stayed myself. I trusted my stepmother devoutly and knew it. I believed all she had said and was in her hands.
The summerhouse was placed too far from the house for sounds to be heard therefrom, which in the circumstances was as well. As I finally approached and found myself trembling a little, Sarah’s cries came distinctly to me. I began to run, but remembered my stepmother’s instruction that a lady never hurries. So I paced myself anew.
“How dare YOU!” reached my ears from Sarah as I reached the door. Her voice sounded really wild and plaintive. My palm was moist as it touched the doorhandle, but it would not budge. “NO-WOH! Oh, the shame of this!” I heard and then at my somewhat feeble though excited rattling the door was opened and there blocking my view within was, of all people, Bertha, the wife of our coachman, who was some forty years of age and buxom of form.
“HA-AAAAR!” screeched Sarah then and all was revealed to my startled gaze while Bertha moved and thrust the door to, putting a bar across it.
There across a small deal table, so narrow that it supported but her shoulders and her tummy, hung Sarah, bereft of all save her stockings, shoes and her chemise which, being well and tightly tucked up about her hips, gave full display to the naked orb of her bottom. To her rear stood our stepmother, flourishing the selfsame black whip of many thongs which I had seen the night before. Yet this seemed itself as nothing to what else astounded my gaze. Bound to the wall immediately in front of Sarah and but two feet from her was Robert, his trousers down and his shirt wreathed fast about his waist so that his risen penis and balls were wantonly in full view. His hands being tied behind his back and fastened, as I soon saw, to a ring set into the wall, he could move not, no more than could Sarah whose legs had been stretched out in a wide vee so that her ankles might be secured to each of the legs of the table.
“Let me go-woh-oh!” Sarah screeched, having our brother’s cock in full view.
For her cry she received a hissing stroke of the whip and I saw then how the thongs splayed out, their little knotted tips biting into her bottom as might have done two score of bees. This causing her to writhe as best she could and squeal loudly, my stepmother turned to Bertha-who had approached closer to the table-and asked, “Is this not the best way?”
“It is that an’ all, m’am. I have my own daughter seen to likewise and the better she is for it. She don’t spurn a hand at her bottom now nor a little feel which gives her a nice tickle. They has to be brought to it, though, and the proud ones the more. Miss Sarah now, she’ll come up well, though she don’t know it.”
“YAAAAAH! I shall tell Papa! Oh you wicked things,” cried my sister, whose cheeks were tinged a most pretty pink where the whip had caught her, as again it did now.
“Be quiet, girl, or I shall have Bertha do it and she will do it harder.”
SWEEEE-ISSSSH! sounded the thongs and then again, coursing first from the left and then the right while I, utterly bemused and frozen in my attitude, stood ignored behind them. Sarah did not know I was there, I could swear. I did not wish her to, though could not help a stirring in me at the luscious vision she presented. Her long legs, being wide apart, gave full view to the sweet lips of her quim, surrounded as they were by a bouquet of curls. Her bottom, round as an apple and indeed more sensuously appealing than I ever thought it to be, positively glowed as SWEEE-ISSSSH! SWEEE-ISSSH! the small whip sang again.
She had ceased to try to speak now. Sobs, moans and all sorts of little cries were rent from her. Head bent over the edge of the table, she avoided looking at the cock of Robert which prodded manfully up to her view. His eyes were blank yet had a staring of wildness as well they might have done. It occurred to me that he must have been already bound-by Bertha obviously-while Sarah was being stripped and so all her charms had been presented to his gaze. He has seen her snatch, I thought, and he has his prick up. It was a wicked thought, but I could not avoid it.
“NO-NO-NO-PLEASE!” Sarah howled, finding voice again while the crest of our brother’s penis seemed to quiver ever more eagerly.
“Cup his balls, Bertha, and hold them tight. I wish him not to come. He has had a fine sight of her and will be rampant for hours,” my stepmother said, thus echoing my thoughts.
“A nice pair he has and full of cream, I’d lay a wager, m’am,” Bertha chuckled, doing as she was told while Robert’s eyes bulged. His testicles looked like two large eggs on her palm which she kept tightly pressed up.
SWEEE-ISSSH! The whip sounded for the last time, on this occasion coming well up beneath poor Sarah’s burning bottom so that her hips jerked violently and a shrill series of wild sobs were rent from her.
My stepmother turned to me then, a finger at her lips and pointed to a side table on which stood a small pot. I gazed bemused for a moment but then she clicked her fingers impatiently and so I hurried to it and handed to her the little glazed receptacle that I saw was filled with cream. Having done so, I stepped back, fearful that Sarah might somehow see me. Letting the whip slide to the floor, my stepmother dipped her little finger within and then deftly applied the cream to the little wrinkled orifice that peeped between my sister’s nether cheeks.
Sarah’s head shot up immediately and she screeched and tried in vain to wriggle madly. At that she received such a slap on her bottom as made her howl, whereat the cream was applied more generously and then to my awed gaze a forefinger was eased up within her bottomhole, half inch by half inch. At that Sarah’s mouth opened wide as did her eyes. A gritting screech escaped her. Her bottom waggled, but being invaded as it was could do no other than accept the salute.
“Very well, Bertha,” said my stepmother amid Sarah’s gargling sounds.
At that, Bertha loosed the bonds behind Robert’s back and prodded him firmly forward. Seeing his stiff cock then so close, Sarah waggled her face madly from side to side the while that her legs strained as the forefinger eased now more powerfully back and forth in her tight fundament.
“Hold her nose, Bertha, and put it in,” snapped my stepmother.
I could not believe what I heard, but with that Bertha took hold of our brother’s pulsing tool with one hand and with the other pinched Sarah’s nostrils so that her mouth was forced to open. As deftly as a plum might be inserted in the mouth, so then was Robert’s prick between her lips. His eyes appeared to come out on stalks and his head hung back with a look of perfect ecstasy on his face.
“GAAAAR!” Sarah choked, but so swiftly was the introduction made that a full four inches of Robert’s thrumming stem were now buried between her lips. To add to her sensations then, our stepmother removed her finger with a faint PLOP! and gave my sister’s bottom a hearty smack.
“NOW my dear, you will remain so. Bertha will release your nose and I shall stand steady with the whip. Should you attempt to eject Robert’s prick from your mouth, I shall whip you hard for a full ten minutes and without a pause. Be certain, Sarah, of my determination in this matter. Very well, Bertha. I shall give her but one more taste of the thongs to remind her of her fate should she choose to disobey. So!”
The cry that came from Sarah as the many thongs hissed across her now fully pink and quite adorable bottom was of course utterly choked back and suppressed by the throbbing rod within her mouth. True to her word, however, our stepmother let the whip hang loose to her thigh whereat Bertha released her hold on Sarah’s nose.
“Keep your prick in her mouth now, Robert, but do not come. You hear me!”
Robert could not reply, of course. His mouth hung open like a yokel’s. Moving slightly sideways I saw that Sarah’s lips were compressed tightly and no doubt desperately about the fleshy stalk. Her eyelashes fluttered and her eyes were closed. She moaned interminably in her throat. I loved, her then-so strange a thing to say but so defenseless and so beautiful she looked.
“Suck a little on it, Sarah. Come, dear, do it. I shall know by the movements of your cheeks if you are obeying,” came softly from our stepmother who quite tenderly then stroked my sister’s hair with one hand and her quivering bottom with the other. I could but guess however dimly at what then was passing in Sarah’s mind and how scorched her poor bottom must feel. I felt compassion for her, and no less tenderly than the urging stroking of the hands about her. Hot flushed as she was her cheeks sucked in once and then with a gargling cry puffed out again.
“Very well, that will do. Out with it, Robert, and turn your face to the wall. You have seen today more than you have merited:”
Turned about he then was by Bertha and quite roughly. Poor thing. I did feel for him. Our stepmother bent then to untie Sarah’s ankles, but then suddenly appeared to recall my presence. Motioning Bertha not to let my sister turn her head-though such would have been exceedingly difficult for her to do-she ushered me out through a quietly opened door.
“Return to the house. Sarah will soon be out. You must comfort her, you know,” she said almost quaintly.
I wanted to. It was my task to do so, as I saw it. I would kiss her poor bottom and comfort her indeed.
“We shall have time to talk later,” my stepmother added, which saying gave me a feeling of ever greater importance so I took myself quickly back into the house and there awaited Sarah’s return. Indeed so impatient was I that I peeped from my bedroom window which gave out on to the garden and in but a few moments saw her stumbling back, her hair awry and bodice open. She was not crying but had a hollow look on her face.
I left my door open, pretending to be busy and of great innocence. Upon mounting the stairs I heard her give a little wail which I knew was intended to draw my attention and so hurried out on to the landing and gazed down in seeming wonder upon her.
“Oh, Clara!”
It was then that she gave way fully to emotion and so stumbled against the wall that I ran down a few steps to her side and supported her.
“Sarah, what ails you? How dusty your dress is!”
“You d… d… do not know what has h… h… happened to me!”
“Come to your room, dearest, and lie down. Tell me all”
Led sobbing into her room, she fell upon her bed in a posture of abandonment, lying on her tummy. I sat beside her and stroked her hair, much indeed as our stepmother had done but long moments before.
“Tell me all. What is so terrible? Where are the others? Have you been attacked?”
So well did I act my part that I chided myself inwardly for my duplicity. As I sat back, Sarah’s head moved and slumped into my lap. At any other time the gesture would have been one of great innocence, but I was no longer in that state. The side of her mouth was upon my thigh, above my stocking top. I felt its softness and its moisture through my dress and could not but help think that these were the same lips that had enfolded themselves around Robert’s cock.
“Oh, Clara, I was wh… wh… whipped!” she burst out.
“What? Oh, you could not have been! Who would dare do such a thing?”
“Why, Stepmama, of course. Oh, and Bertha was there and she held me over! My poor bottom, and I had done nothing, Clara, nothing, I swear!”
The strain of hysteria in her voice aroused me and I moved her so that she lay full upon her back, a perfect cascade of shining tears rolling down upon her cheeks. Her bottom moved fretfully. Her whole posture demanded comfort and attention. I cast myself upon her as though to restrain her in her movements, making to affect great agitation at her news. She had not mentioned Robert, though. I thought that strange and yet could understand her motive.
“Of course you have done nothing,” I soothed. “Come, let us have off with your dusty dress and make you pretty again.”
“I hate her, I hate her!”
“Yes, darling, yes.”
“Don’t undress me.”
Her plea was all too late. She was willing, it seemed to me, to be bundled about a little. Females in a certain state of excited distress are often so, as I was since to learn. I had to rumple her much in removing her dress and then her chemise, my exclamation of apparent surprise bursting out when I pretended to discover that she wore no drawers.
“Oh, you poor thing, she took them off!” I burst.
“St… st… stop it!” Sarah jerked. Her garters were white and pink, most pretty in appearance and matching well with the creamy shade of her stockings. Her legs, being long, were finely tapered, though swelling voluptuously at their junction where a proud and well-furred bush flourished its dark brown curls.
“Show me,” I urged and rolled her over on to her tummy. The sparkling pink of her bottom was still evident. It bumped a little as I touched it with my fingers and a mewing sound came from her while her fingers clawed into the quilt. Since she was clearly in no great physical discomfort, I divined instinctively a sense of excitement in her that she would have preferred to hide yet could not help but let seep forth. Murmuring my condolences, as it were, I bent over beside her on the bed and applied my lips to her quivering halfmoons which had all the appearance of strawberries and cream.
“Don’t, Clara,” she whispered, but I knew her frailty now for she did not kick nor endeavour to roll over.
“Shush-let me comfort my poor baby,” I murmured and in so doing put on a greater maturity than my years indicated. Soothing my lips all about, I slyly observed the relaxing of her shoulders and a shy hiding of her face which she effected by crooking up one arm and burying her head in the fold of her elbow. “Now it feels better, now it feels better,” I intoned. The warm silky surface of her well-cleft moon enchanted me. The taut smooth skin seemed to stir willingly under the moist blessing of my mouth. “Is it nice?” I asked a little daringly. Her cheeks contracted and then relaxed.
“No,” she answered pettishly, but I knew it not to be true.
“I will make it nice, truly I will,” I whispered and began to stroke her naked back which rippled agreeably to my touch. My other hand I cupped gently beneath the lower bulge of her firm bottom so that she might not move and then with a rising thrill of sensuousness dipped my tongue into her cleft and wisped it up and down.
“C… C… Clara!” she uttered in pretended shock, “wh… wh… what are you doing?”
There was no strength nor rising reprimand in her voice and then came to me such words as our stepmother might have uttered.
“Be quiet-it is for your good,” I said. The die was cast. I was tasting her and finding the sensation wickedly exciting. Without further ado I parted the springy cheeks of her bottom with both hands and twirled the tip of my tongue all around her puckered rosette.
“N… n… no!” she blathered, yet her bottom gave such a little jerk as betrayed and denied the refusal of her cry.
Such being my arising nature, I suppose, I pressed my fingertips tighter into her and thereby exposed her nether aperture more fully. Indeed, it opened a little, which permitted me to flick the tip of my tongue within. A frantic moan came from Sarah and she kicked, though not viciously. It was rather as though she were endeavouring to avoid something that she found pleasurable. So very much indeed can be read by such febrile movements of the body. I was determined as it seemed to me then to conquer her now and held her bottom cheeks ever further apart. As I did so she made to rise by pressing up with her hands, but in that moment the bedroom door opened and a voice sounded above us.
“It is called feuille de rose,” I heard my stepmother declare. So quick was she in response to the revealed situation that her words were immediately followed by the snapped command, “Hold her!”
I shrieked in apparent alarm as did Sarah, but prevented her from rising and indeed pressed her tightly down once more by appearing to collapse upon her. With great presence of mind, however, our stepmother made it seem that I would escape for she then spat, “Hold her, I say, Clara, or I shall whip you in turn!”
“Oh!” I quavered for good effect while Sarah drummed with her hands upon the quilt in dismay.
Then with the swiftest of steps we were joined at the bedside. Bending and taking hold of Sarah’s knees while I slyly relaxed my weight upon her for a moment, our stepmother deftly swung her over on to her back wherewith I fell across Sarah with a well-considered shriek. Thus having my face hid and my back turned upon our intruder, I felt only a flurry of limbs and then a soulful cry from Sarah.
“AH-OOOH! Don’t let her!” she cried, but already our stepmother had knelt and-thrusting back Sarah’s legs until her knees all but touched her tummy-applied her lips and tongue to her moist honeypot. “NOO-NOOO-NOOOO!” hummed Sarah. Her wild face was jerked from side to side, the tendons on her neck straining.
A soft lapping sound came to my ears. I held my arms around my sister’s neck as though in bewilderment, my grasp restraining her head from twisting so much and my cheek finally coming against her own velvety one. She snuffled and gasped. I felt the jerking of her hips and heard the steady, succulent sound of our stepmother’s tongue all about her cunny.
“DA-DA-DAH!” Sarah moaned. I appeared as one dazed and yet at the same time a little excited at what was happening.
“Oh, darling,” I whispered. Her eyes glazed, her movements becoming less frenetic. I felt a quivering throughout her entire body. Her back arched and strained. Had I but known it, her bottom was now firmly cupped and her cunny already spurting its juices.
“OH-WOH-WOH!” she whimpered and then as if by some divine chance our mouths came together. I sought her tongue. Shy as it was at first it came at last to meet mine. Violent tremors shot through her. I stroked her breasts and found her nipples hard, passing my thumb sensuously back and forth across the quivering tips. She was utterly lost. Her moans wafted into my mouth. A gurgling cry and she came again, quite flooding the lips and tongue that were assuaging her. Then as if in a swoon she loosed her mouth from mine, sank down and lay still whereupon our stepmother rose, delicately wiping her mouth.
“Draw her full on to the bed,” she murmured.
“Oh, what is to do?” I asked, playing my role well.
“Be quiet, child, for you too will learn soon enough,” she replied in skilful complicity and in a trice Sarah lay naked to her stockings between us while our stepmother dealt with her most lovingly, stroking her hot face, kissing away her little sparkling tears and passing her lips over her own.
“You know how I have longed to kiss you, Sarah,” she whispered, bringing my sister’s eyes beneath her own. Truly Sarah looked most beautiful in that moment, her inner thighs glistening with her spendings, her breasts swollen and her nipples erect. Laughing softly, our stepmother traced the curves of my sister’s lips with her fingertip and caused them to part in peachlike sweetness. “You will keep your mouth open when I tell you and you will keep your legs open, Sarah, when I tell you. Do you understand now?”
“You wh… wh… whipped me,” Sarah moaned as though in blank astonishment still that such a thing could happen.
“And shall again if you are wilful. You see now how I have spurred you to fulfilment? You are in course of training, as soon Clara shall be. You will play filly to the stallions, my love, receive the libations from their throbbing cocks and learn to handle them at will.”
So saying, our stepmother smothered Sarah’s mouth with her own and, gliding one slim hand down her belly, commenced to play her fingers amid her curls. Sarah spluttered, choked and gasped-might even have wrenched her lips away had the hand not been insistent.
In a moment she quivered, straightened down her legs, and spilled her juices out anew.