I HAVE BEGUN drawing Sarah over the hills and plains of understanding,” said my stepmother a little later, having left Sarah quiet and huddled up upon her bed. “Do you understand?” she asked.
“She will be whipped again, you mean, if she does not let someone do it with her?” I countered naively.
“It is not so simple as that-not so simple by far, my pet. You were willing to attend to her. I am doubly pleased with you at that. Feuille de rose… did you hear me say that when I entered? It means the pointing and luring of the tongue around the nether orifice that Nature intended for our pleasures as much as our cunnies. However, that is a diversion. Such subtleties will come to you better later. As to your ‘someone,’ that is precisely how it must not be. You have seen now Robert twice in rampant state. How easy it would be for me to satisfy him, to draw forth the spurting juice from his cock. Ah, you blush-but that as you well know by now is the major purpose of his tool. Men stride about the world like conquerors. Women are docile to them when they should not be.”
“Oh, but you whipped poor Sarah in front of him and now he will lose all respect for her,” I objected.
“Why you sillikins, could I not have let him have her if I wished? It is far from my intention to degrade my own fair sex. My purpose is to uplift and make them strong. Scarce a man lives who is not a schoolboy at heart and who does not wish the forbidden sight of skirt uplifted, drawers at droop. Some are fondlers and others sniffers. They behave indeed like dogs on heat. As for girls, they know not how to comport themselves and believe that in order to please the males they must surrender to them, bear their children and become haggard and unlovely in the process. You mark what I am saying, Clara?”
I nodded and again felt awed. She knew well enough that I was imbibing her every word.
“The mastery of males begins-mostly oddly perhaps to your mind, my sweet-with the mastery of females. Only another female may set herself to this task, for otherwise a male would merely wreak his will upon her and then pass on to others. A girl thus must be taught to receive the cock while the male himself is seen, observed, controlled. At first she may be in a perfect frenzy at it and buck truly like a young filly when his prick is to her. This inspires her in turn with a certain disdain of the male, though his weapon itself may have given her final pleasure. In arranging matters thus I bring the male to certain subjugation-performing as it were the role of his Mama whom he reveres and scolding him for his sins while yet occasionally ensuring that he commits them. For such commissions of sin he is punished and knows he will be. He is like a little boy for whom the pantry door is ever held ajar, so all is tempting to his view.”
I found myself wriggling. “Have I… have I got to do this?” I asked nervously.
“Of course,” she replied crisply, “what else? I shall bring you through fire yet, and you will thank me for it. Should you of course prefer to live a dull life such as Society has in store for you…”
“Oh no!” I interjected.
“Well then,” she smiled, “matters are settled. Once you have a long, thick stiff prick nestling in your pussy or buried ‘twixt your cheeks, you will know well enough the pleasure of it. Moreover you yourself will learn to control the male-that is to say, the number of thrusts he affords you and how steady or fast they may be, for all is designed to afford the maximum of pleasure to the female. He, poor worm, slumps limp afterwards and can do nothing more whereas the female, glowing with health and voluptuous desires, may take another and another at her will. That is the secret of our supremacy, Clara.”
All was new to me and yet I understood, or if my understanding was not comprehensive then at the least I believed her every word.
“A demonstration will suffice better, dear. Wait here upon my bed.”
With that she bustled out and long minutes passed. Some inkling of what she might be about stirred in me and I fain would have run. Indeed I started up but then sank back upon the bed whereupon a curious lassitude seized me and I felt as I did when lying in a meadow in the sun, toying with buttercups and having not a care in the world. Even when my stepmother entered again-alone-I did not stir but ruffled my head into the pillow and smiled at her with a sweet pussycat look as she afterwards said.
“Draw your skirt up beneath your bottom and take your drawers off,” she told me.
Such was my mood that I obeyed without question and even mischievously spread my legs the better to show off my slit at which she laughed, asked me to sit up with my back against the headboard and to draw my knees up a little.
“Stay now,” said she gently whereat I was all of a bubble at what was going to happen and braced my feet into the coverlet. Then she turned about again and was gone, but this time more briefly for when the door reopened it was to admit herself followed by Robert and Bertha.
Oh my heavens, what a sight! The upper hallway must well have been cleared of servants and he prepared in secret quiet. For my brother wore only his shirt which at the front was tucked back so that his erection was in full view. Seeing me in an apparent state of readiness he blushed deeply and might have retreated had not Bertha given him a push and closed the door. The greatest of my amazements however derived from the fact that around his neck was a thick and studded dog collar to which was attached a leash that Bertha held. Some sound escaped my throat but it was scarcely coherent.
“Be still and be quiet, Clara,” my stepmother said briskly as though to infer to my brother that I had no option other than to obey. For all he knew perhaps I had been whipped as Sarah had been. I was thus in a sense excused in his eyes, though he had seen me well enough as a watcher in the summerhouse.
Stepping in front of and to one side of him, Bertha gave a tug on the leash and drew him forward so that his bare knees bumped the side of the bed and his balls swung. My stepmother stood with arms folded near the head of the bed and close to me.
“Up with you, Master Robert,” Bertha said.
I felt he must have been coached in this, for somewhat awkwardly-and not apparently being allowed to use his hands whereby to lever himself up-he got upon the bed on his knees so that one of his legs nudged mine, making me start.
“Open your legs more, Clara,” came from my stepmother.
I gulped and obeyed. Clearly I was making room for my brother who by various murmurings from Bertha and tugs on the chain was brought in closer to me, but not so much that our bodies touched. I in a half-reclining position found my eyes level with the bulbous crest of his cock and saw more clearly than ever how the faint blue veins stood out upon the noble column of flesh. Bertha then moved behind me and at such a distance that the leash was taut, so preventing him, as I divined, from jerking forward.
“Now, my love, you are about to see in a matter of minutes how the male is pleasured, how brief that pleasure appears to the females-though I may say that I believe it to be intense-and how he is enfeebled afterwards. Robert-you will not move now, sir, or I shall have your buttocks made redhot.”
My lips were parted, my own face suffused. I knew not where to look yet ever felt my gaze drawn to the wondrous weapon he displayed. It was then already some good eight inches long and of fair girth. His balls were heavy and reminded me of ducks’ eggs, though hairy. As our stepmother’s hand approached his tool, his teeth gritted and he stared straight out above my head. A snorting sound came from his nostrils in the moment that her beringed fingers enfolded it, the tips running gently up and down the swollen shaft before she took hold of it more purposefully.
“This, Clara, is called ‘milking,’” she said to me quietly and then began to frot him, luring her ringed fingers up and down his prick so that his breath panted and flowed out in longing moans. “One may take one’s time about it, Clara. You will learn in due course how to modulate the movements of your hand, whether to bring the male on quickly and to make him gush or to quell his sense of urgency, for if the cock is held tightly-so!-then he cannot come in any event.”
“GAAAR-AH!” my brother choked and his head hung back.
“Be QUIET!” she scolded him and now, cupping his balls with her free hand, tickled them beneath with her little finger, causing his hips to rock.
I swallowed and my eyes grew bleared. The most itching and tingling of sensations made itself felt in my cunny so that I longed to toy with myself but had not the daring to do so in front of him. I confess that I let my thighs sag even wider so that my cuntlips veritably pouted at him and so no doubt increased his mad desires. Certainly he panted more and his mouth gaped the while that her luring hand worked steadily.
“There will come a time, Clara,” said she-while all the while Bertha stood silent in the background-“when I shall modulate his explosions of sperm the more. He will learn to come only on a certain count-which is to say perhaps fifty strokes of my hand, or the same number when embedded in a quim or bottom. Should he, or of course any other male in training, give way to his lewd excitement and eject his sperm prematurely, then punishment will follow and he will receive no pleasuring during a disciplinary period. For the moment, however, since Robert has not been milked before, I propose to give him a certain leeway.”
“NEEE-YNNNNG!” Robert gritted. He was plainly near his tether for our stepmother’s hand was warm and comforting and, being soft as velvet, must have teased him beyond endurance. The poor soul, he did not try to disgrace himself, but having for the first time his younger sister so lewdly displaying herself to him the while and the lips of her pretty cunny to his view, he could not help himself. The breath literally whistled through his nostrils and her finger, I swear, tickled his balls the more.
“Oh, you bad boy-you naughty boy,” she breathed, which words as I learned are manna to the yearning male, whether he be fifteen or fifty, for they deem them both encouraging and exciting while yet obtaining overtones of admonishment. Our stepmother now was watching his face. She knew the signs.
“I c… c… can’t help! Oh, Mama!” he whined.
“Come then-come-spill your juice. Let us see how fiercely it spurts,” she commanded and to his profound dismay, no doubt, loosed her hold on him around his prick while still couching his balls on her palm.
I had of course never seen the male sperm erupt before. Perhaps by instinct I slumped down a little, thus inadvertently showing as much of my bottom to him as my slit. Desire must have raged in him for then with a croaking cry a veritable jet of white creamy liquid shot out and up in an arc that seemed to poise like a seagull in mid-air before it splashed down on my belly and my bush. So warm and lovely did it feel that I was entranced and, being just as quickly followed by another and another, so that the stream seemed endless, I felt myself inundated and all of a sticky swimming while Robert juddered, his hips jerking violently.
“More, you young brute, more,” our stepmother intoned.
“HAAAR!” shuddered he. The jets were weaker now in their erupting. I could see them clearly bubbling out of the tiny hole in the knob of his cock. His thighs quivered violently and his jaw sagged the more. The bulb glistened deliciously with his spendings, and all the while our stepmother firmly cupping his balls while Bertha continued holding the leash taut to keep his head up. Then at last he was done and the last dribblings fell and spattered on to the bed. A long shuddering sigh came from him and his expression softened, his body slumping as much as the leash would allow.
All was then still and quiet.
“Very well, take him out, Bertha,” our stepmother ordered. Limp as a reed he was drawn off the bed by a tugging of the leather strap. He looked cowed and yet his face appeared angelic, perfectly unlined and smooth.
“They are best when young,” my stepmother observed, “yet the older men are equally amusing in their ways and can be known to ream a girl more vigourously. I prefer my beginners to be put to older men. Ah, what a froth you have from him upon your bush! It will be a full half hour at least before his young cock can be urged up stiff again. A man twenty years his senior may take even longer, yet no woman is exhausted in any wise by having a single fuck and, as I told you, can have several in a row, enjoying the last as much as the first and mayhaps more so. You had best bathe now, dear.”
“Yes, Mama,” I assented, though I so rarely called her that.
As ever, she turned away as if the entire matter had passed already from her mind and I knew that I was simply to imbibe what I had seen. Casting off my dress in my room and feeling a pleasant stickiness all between my legs, I put on a robe and went along to the bathroom-which is to say the one that I and Sarah used, for Stepmama now had her own, and a third and smaller one was for Papa’s use. Finding the door locked, I shook the handle impatiently.
“Who? Who is it?” came Sarah’s call. Her voice sounded nervous. When I answered, there was a splashing sound, a noise of grumbling, and then the door was partly opened and she stood holding a towel about her.
“Oh, is the water warm still? Have you finished?” I asked.
“Yes, but only just,” she replied crossly and blushed. Not speaking, I cast off my robe and then my chemise and stood naked. The water was perfumed and inviting. Only recently then had we had water to come through taps in the bathrooms and it was a perfect joy, though made much heat and work for the servants in keeping the stove going to heat the water. Being cautious of her mood I got in and laved myself, sinking back with quite a smile upon my lips, for I knew more than she and indeed had learned more.
“Clara, what is to do?” she asked nervously.
“Why, you were very naughty and so was I. Mama was not displeased with us really,” I replied simply.
“She is not our Mama-not our true Mama,” Sarah said crossly and let the towel fall and began to brush her hair. Standing upright as she was her bottom protruded delightfully and I thought of how I had had my tongue there and teased her up while she wriggled. I did not doubt that she had enjoyed it and chided her inwardly for being a hypocrite. Besides, she had been tongued as well and could not now pretend that she had struggled overmuch against the insistent protrusion of our stepmother’s tongue.
“Did you not like it?” I asked and soaped myself all over.
“No, of course I didn’t, it was horrid. I did not know before that people did such things. If she whips me again I shall tell Papa.”
“Will you not blush to tell him all?” I asked slyly whereat she spun around and scowled at me, though looking lovely still in doing that.
“What do you mean, Clara?” she spat but all was then bravado. I shrugged.
“Mama will say, I am sure, that she kissed you afterwards and all was well.”
“Oh!” exploded Sarah and stamped her foot. Facing me then as she was and naked, her tits bouncing a little in her anger and her bush well fluffed out from the drying towel, a sudden wicked fantasy came to me that I would like to have Stepmama or Bertha hold her arms the while I knelt between her thighs and tongued her cunt. Perhaps this very thought drove me a full measure beyond what I had already learned, been taught, and had instilled into me. I wanted her cunny to sparkle on my tongue, to bring myself pleasure in doing it and hear her wild cries as she was forced to surrender.
“Let us not fret too much for I did not mind it really. I, too, have been caned, you know,” I said proudly.
“You? Oh, you have not! What a story you are!”
“Oh, Miss Clevercuts, so you believe you know everything, do you? She took my drawers down and caned me stingingly upon my bottom-so there-and then she kissed me all about as she did you and it was nice,” I said rather breathlessly.
That she believed me I did not doubt.
“I don’t want to hear about it,” she said crossly. “I think she is so awful for she will not allow me to wear drawers now.”
I laughed. “Well, you can scarce tell Papa that, or shall you run to him and say, ‘Look, Papa, I have no drawers on.’”
“Bah! you are as horrid as she sometimes, Clara,” was her response, and gathering up her clothes got into them as quickly as she could, for my last words had clearly flustered her and she must have felt trapped. Well-she was trapped for a purpose and that to bring her pleasure, I told myself and found myself surprised by my own thought. Yet even then a sense of resolution was invading me and taking hold of me. I was conscious of our stepmother’s aura and personality as though from a distance. It is said that now, in my twenty-fifth year, I also possess such. “I could feel you coming even though you had not then entered the house,” a girl has said to me in midway or advanced passage of her training, and I have sensed it to be true, for I know the spell that my stepmama can still at times cast over me.
So perhaps one counts the steps of one’s progress. Had I not had that conversation with Sarah in the bathroom I might have been left in limbo with her, wondering how to converse with her and what to do. As I dried myself, however, I was no longer in doubt. Robert’s prick was quite adorable and I dreamed of the heavenly sensation of having it spout within me. Therefore, I decided, Sarah must also. It would be for her good. Her bottom and her cunt would be nourished by his libations, as would my own.
I, of course, was powerless to hasten matters. All lay in our stepmother’s hands. For three days nothing further happened that was untoward. Sarah appeared wary; Robert was quiet, though his eyes frequently fell adoringly on her. Upon the third day after she had tongued Sarah and milked Robert, she took us upon a picnic. Knowing how to beguile, she even drew Sarah out of herself and once or twice made her laugh.
I alone perhaps sensed or knew that the female spider was still weaving her intricate web.