AS SHE MOVED towards them, my sister and Clarissa twittered and swayed nervously on their feet, though they could not have helped but feel some little excitement.
“Put them over!” she commanded, walking around to the back of Clarissa so that I was then immediately behind my sister.
“Don’t you dare!” cried Sarah, but all in vain. Struggling to no purpose at all they were moved but a few steps to an accommodating, broad settee and pushed into a kneeling position upon it, their bottoms jutting over the edge and each with her shoulders held by Bertha and I.
“Up, you young curs!” then came from my stepmother to the boys. At that Sarah screeched and tried in vain to wriggle free, but no time was wasted in the due performance of “dipping.” Led stumbling to the girls, Robert was placed behind Sarah, and Charlie put to Clarissa, which is to say that their cocks were taken-my stepmother standing between them and using both hands-and nudged against the maidens’ bottomholes.
“HAH! HOOOO! NO!” cried Sarah, but by placing one knee in the small of her back (whereby I imitated Bertha) she was held almost motionless and her lovely bottom rearing up.
“Your knobs within and then an inch beyond-no more!” So ordained my stepmother and purplish indeed was my brother’s face as he found his swollen plum invading his sister’s nether aperture. Charlie, being quieter and more set in the face, had clearly done it before.
How dearly I wished I could better see! In my position, facing the two young men, I had only the vision of their cocks bent down a little into a straight position and disappearing up between the fulsome cheeks. Their penetration was, though, but a symbol. Gritting his teeth, Robert urged his inch within-so Sarah then held more than two in all and yelped and squealed galore.
“Hold!” my stepmother commanded the young stallions. That they were being put to exquisite torture I had no doubt. As to the feelings of Sarah I could not then imagine them for she was receiving at last her brother’s tool in her bottom.
“Ho, ho, ho-MAMA!” sobbed she.
“Darling,” I breathed to her, though whether she heard or cared about my tender word I did not know. I wanted her truly to enjoy and knew perhaps some day she would. Her frettings and her pullings seemed to me unnecessary, for I wanted it myself. His cock was in-just in-his balls were cupped. So patiently did my stepmother hold them both, and neither dared to move.
“When the girls are quiet,” she breathed, “you will take them out.”
In truth Clarissa had uttered scarce a sound, was mute. She was to become a darling of my heart for that, proving herself eventually to be ever so and maintaining ever her pride thereby even when her Papa-for so I discovered her “guardian” really to be-was put to her, his cock full up her orb.
“Be quiet, Sarah, now-did you not hear?” I asked.
“Silence, Clara!” I was admonished, and properly so. Such events are ceremonies proper and should not be interrupted. Despite our stepmother’s stare, I stroked Sarah’s hair. Her sobs were low and pitiful, yet came not from the heart, but broken pride. Robert gave a little jerk and a twitch and was scolded, though gently I sensed that Sarah was gripping him tightly. It was an excellent preparation for what she was to receive when her pleasure finally mounted-not then but later on when she would allow herself to be mounted. The present, febrile jerkings of her bottom were insufficient to dislodge her brother’s cock and this she finally learned and buried her face with a great sobbing sigh till all was still.
“Yes, my beauty,” our stepmother breathed at her then, and as if in approbation.
Not fully understanding the purpose of what she had called “dipping,” I waited then for what seemed to me the utterly desirable moment when both pricks would be fully sheathed in the girls’ bottoms-but it was not to be. They were but being given a “taster,” while as for the males this was a discipline. A hint of promise lay therein, yes, but in all it was to keep them thoroughly obedient to the Mistress of their fate.
Even so, my stepmother allowed them to remain so embedded for another long minute, their thighs quivering much and their eyes quite agonised.
“Out now, slowly, and down with you again!” she then commanded, and with the most haggard of expressions and thickly-waggling weapons they obeyed, the process of uncorking bringing a soft “OOOH!” from both Sarah and Clarissa. “Up now, girls!” my stepmother said then almost merrily and much as their legs, too, quavered, they were doubtless glad to, though would not have turned about to display anew their furred nests to the males had they not been swiftly smacked and brought around.
The face of Clarissa’s supposed guardian was of course a picture to see in all this, but no one really paid him heed, and as Robert and Charlie sank upon their backs upon the floor again, so Bertha magically produced two pairs of drawers which, being thrust into the hands of my sister and her companion, they all too gladly put on.
“You have seen the males queened and perhaps by now know the purpose of it, or if you do not your minds will come to it soon enough,” they were told. “You may now take greater pride in your femininity than you have done in these past minutes. You, Clarissa, go down on Charlie even as Bertha did. Sarah-you will teach your brother a similar lesson!”
Both girls stood frozen for a moment, though left free to move. Perhaps some semblance of understanding came to them then, for it was my sister who moved first. The psychology of it then made itself better understood to me. The male had taken advantage of the female, and though he had been bidden to mattered not. Now the female could reassert herself. So my thoughts spun as I hoped Sarah’s would, too. Reaching within a foot of our brother who lay biting his lip and trying to outstare the ceiling, she appeared to hesitate but was spurred on by the quite gentle voice of our stepmother saying, “Yes, Sarah, NOW Sarah.”
Her shapely form wobbled a little as with a constrained look on her lovely face, she placed one foot over Robert’s body and then, as if casting a beseeching look all around, sank slowly down. Urging herself awkwardly upon her knees, she gritted her teeth slightly and threw her head back as one might in appealing to unseen angels of deliverance. She could not help but be thinking still of his prick in her bottom. The sensation would still be there, both shaming and exciting her. Would she now take the revenge that was offered her?
At that moment Clarissa, being firmly taken in hand by Bertha, was being carefully positioned. Her knickered bottom hung like a full moon over Charlie’s face, but neither yet had touched.
My stepmother and Bertha saw to it that they did. “When a girl learns to queen the male and does it thoroughly and well and with a sense of satisfaction, she is more than halfway there,” my stepmother told me afterwards, saying that it was a moment of crowning glory to be achieved, whether with a stranger or one’s kin. Indeed, she demonstrated it upon me so that I knew for myself the sense of utter submission in being so imperiously smothered by that fleshy globe.
“Sometimes,” she told me, “they first take the scent of you that way and will follow ever after at your skirts with their tongues lolling like eager hounds.”
“Are they allowed to put their tongues up?” I asked.
“Only when commanded to, Clara. To do so otherwise is to call down punishment upon themselves. The wearing of drawers is a sign of contempt and of protection. The thicker that garment is, the greater the punishment, particularly if the female keeps her bottom as cool as possible before going down on the male. Should she wish to excite him and frustrate him the more, she will wear the thinnest possible drawers and make sure that she has been well seated on a chair beforehand and warmed her orb so that the effluvia of her cunny and bottomhole comes the more pungently to his nostrils. There are variations, of course, but you will learn these in due course and may even invent a few yourself.”
I became eager to, yet at this moment now I was watching my sister’s bottom as, by sudden pressure of our stepmother’s hands on her shoulders, it was plumped down firmly on Robert’s face-she enjoining him fiercely to keep his mouth closed and his tongue in.
“PMFFFFF!” I heard from him the while that the deep colour spread up into Sarah’s face and she wriggled inanely as though to get up, until my stepmother stilled her and bent and whispered something in her ear at which Sarah bit one corner of her lip and obeyed. Clarissa, being by then well down on Charlie, sat inert, her expression proud as ever or perhaps now even a mite more so than heretofore. Then did my stepmother place one leg astride Robert and sit down firmly on his stomach so that she faced Sarah whose lips quivered.
“There, my darling, is that not better?” she was asked quietly. Tears brimmed in Sarah’s eyes, her mouth opened as though she might cry. Our stepmother’s arms enfolded her shoulders tenderly and Sarah’s head sank upon her offered shoulder. “Is it not better?” was whispered to her then, “to have the male under you and not rampant at you, Sarah? Yes, my dearest, urge your bottom down upon him well. Has he not been wicked?”
“Ho, yes!” sobbed Sarah and clung to her, her fingers hooked as though frantically into her stepmother’s arms.
Poor Robert-he was puffing madly, but I could not doubt that even Sarah felt a certain victory in it. Her nostrils flared as his own breathed fire into her bottom, and yet she had him as certainly as a cat has a bird and must have sensed it, while her erstwhile enemy had now become her friend who stroked her hair and murmured sweet endearments to her.
Of course the act of queening produces a complementary warmth between the parties and so cannot fail to stir the female somewhat, though, as I have since learned, she does well to hide her emotions and to concentrate upon the proper disciplining of the male. Thus it was that my stepmother appeared to give not a jot for Robert’s role in this and did not even glance down at him when finally raising Sarah to her feet.
“Come, dear,” she murmured, “we will bathe you now. Clarissa, too. Bertha will see to the males.”
My sister was indeed subdued as was Clarissa who bore a look of concealed wonderment on her face. Upstairs then and to the bathroom we adjourned where both were refreshened. Then did we repair to my stepmother’s bedroom where wine was dispensed and at first drunk in an almost cathedral-like silence. Sarah knew not what to say any longer not how to protest-if indeed she still wished to-while Clarissa, being a guest, was bound to remain quiet.
“You did well, Clara, to obey me,” was said and thus I was made to appear, if not guiltless, then at least in part innocent, for the subtle menace in my stepmother’s voice was patent for all to hear. “Do you then enjoy obeying me?” she asked craftily.
I played my part well, at first hesitating, then darting a glance at Sarah which seemed to beg her forgiveness. I sought for reply that would give credence to my appearance not as an accomplice but as a submissive.
“I don’t mind if Sarah doesn’t,” I replied, thus endeavouring to convey that my sister had not struggled, screamed nor protested as much as she might have done.
“Oh, I do,” Sarah blurted, but realising that she was all but one against three immediately took on an awkward expression, compressed her lips and toyed with the bedcover as though her thoughts were really elsewhere.
“You are bound to. All of you are bound to,” my stepmother replied, “yet every step I take and every form of guidance I give you is for your own good. You have seen the lusting of the male and how he never frets to put his cock to a bottom or a cunny. Think you that we are to encourage such behaviour? Well, Sarah?” she asked sharply.
My sister showed retreat. “I don’t know what you might make us do now,” she mumbled.
“I shall MAKE you pleasure yourselves and in so doing will guide you along such paths as will teach you how to discipline pleasure itself, how indeed to weave a net into which you will not yourselves fall victims, but will learn how to use it as a snare and a weapon. Let us take a practical case. You, Clarissa, would have fallen victim to your guardian in due course. I doubt it not and believe you do not also. You would have tired of struggling to keep his hands from your skirts and the warm bulge of your bottom. In due course apathy would have overcome you. A fumbling descent of your drawers would have occurred. Some errant fingering of his might have aroused you against your will. Torn between excitement and the fear of intrusion by another, you might have yielded haphazardly and taken the steaming cock in your quim silently and quickly until his lust was expelled and you were creamed.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Clarissa and cupped her face in her hands.
My stepmother took her wrists and drew them away slowly. “Swear to me that it could not possibly have happened and I will absolve you, Clarissa. Look into my eyes as you speak!” she declared solemnly.
Clarissa’s lips twisted. “I don’t… I don’t know,” she uttered lamely, whereat a victorious look came over her questioner’s face.
“Once he has rodded you, my sweet-as he surely will-you will become prey to his lusts, will lie in waiting for his coming, too timourous to object and having no one to run to. In part you will desire what you will receive and so will be the fluttering butterfly in his net Your cunny, oiled by his sperm, will throb so appealingly as to make you forget your scruples.”
“Oh, scruples, indeed! How can you speak of them after what you have subjected us to,” burst forth my sister whom I expected to be immediately smacked at the least for that, but our stepmother spoke to her most softly.
“A stave of good wood hardens in flame, my love, and so shall you. Remember this as a precept all your life. Do not give way to emotion for it is the worst of teachers, producing only abject pupils whose minds run hither and thither and have no resting place. Clarissa knows the truth of what I speak-do you not, Clarissa? Say quickly, girl, what lies immediately in your mind.”
“Yes,” Clarissa said simply and would again have covered her face but was prevented.
“Your truthfulness, my dear, is like a shining light amid so much duplicity in the world,” she was told, no doubt to her great surprise. “I propose then,” my stepmother went on, “to hasten events, though entirely to your advantage. You have freely confessed that the lips of your cunny, and-I have no doubt-your succulent bottomhole as well-will open in time to your guardian’s cock. So be it, but it shall not be in circumstances of shame and wonder, but of womanly pride and, yea, victory!”
“You… you do not mean NOW?” gasped Clarissa.
“What better time, my dear, now that I have made him subject to my whims? Let him be subject to yours also. He will be duly punished afterwards, while you yourself will be feted.”
“Madam, I cannot!” expostulated Clarissa, this interruption being however ignored.
“Have Bertha bring him up,” my stepmother said to me, accentuating sharply the command bring.
“Oh! I cannot watch THIS!” jerked Sarah, who sprang up.
“You cannot? Really?” came the cold reply. “Very well, Sarah. It cannot be said that I have not done my very best to bring you to the true way of womanhood. You have, then, a week to mend your ways or I shall have no recourse but to put you under to as good and stiff a penis as I know. Go to your room!”
Hot-cheeked, my sister fled-I tactfully allowing her to before descending the stairs and entering the drawing room. Robert and Charlie were not to be seen. Clarissa’s guardian had been loosed from the chair but not from his bonds. His wrists now were secured behind his back and the movements of his legs were impeded by a hobble, which is to say a short length of rope tied to both ankles that permitted him to take only a short step at a time. He was also now gagged.
“He is to go up?” asked Bertha who appeared to know everything and who must have been in league with my stepmother for quite a while. I nodded and stood to one side as she snapped around his neck the selfsame houndcollar that Robert had worn and led him stumbling forward. His eyes appeared glazed, as well they might, though his erection threatened to burst his trousers. All a-gog, I followed them up discreetly, his passage being necessarily slow.
The bedroom door to my stepmother’s private abode was closed. Bertha knocked in true servant style and waited. An interval obtained before the command “Enter!” was called. “Close the door!” she commanded me as we went in, and there upon the bed I saw Clarissa kneeling, naked to her stockings and shoes and with her bottom jutting moonlike over the side of the bed.
Her guardian’s eyes bulged and his complexion took on a crimson hue. It was as well perhaps that the gag impeded his speech, though hollow sounds were to be heard coming from beneath it. Receiving a sharp smack on his brawny buttocks, he was pushed forward by Bertha until he stood in waiting immediately behind his pretended ward’s luscious derriere which gleamed its pallor most invitingly, the sprouts of cunt-curls showing dark beneath.
Holding her head up and with breasts proudly heaving, my stepmother addressed him.
“A new word is about to enter your vocabulary, sir, for I doubt that you already know it. Clarissa is to be serviced, or-as a farmhand might put it-she is to be covered. Your bonds are intended to assure that you do not otherwise defile her sweet form with your mauling hands. Spread your knees wider, Clarissa, for a lady need have no hesitation in doing so before a serf. Have his trousers down, Bertha, and let us see his equipment and whether I deem him sufficiently well hung for the task. Ah yes… a reasonable exhibit. His balls weigh well, do they not?”
“Fair as big as my husband’s, m’am,” said Bertha, who for a moment brought them from under his upstanding tool on her palm and then let them dangle again. The man’s head shook wildly, but no mute gestures could avail him now. The prize he had so desired was well displayed before him, but in circumstances that I doubt he could have dreamed of. He snorted as my stepmother took hold of his big leathery prick and rubbed it suavely with her fingers. The knob glistened in its huge swelling and the veins upon the stem stood out fit to burst.
“The principal pleasure is to be Clarissa’s,” my stepmother informed him briskly. “You will not therefore come before you have afforded her at least fifty full strokes of your cock. I shall guard your motions well. Fail to pleasure her and you will receive this a dozenfold!”
Thus saying she produced a cane which looked most fearsome in its aspect, causing his head to waggle as though it might fall off. I gathered that he was denying any intended weakness on his part.
“Clarissa henceforth will be your true Mistress, which is to say that she will ordain your movements, your monetary disbursements, and such pleasurings-or not-that she feels in a mood to dispose. Should you at any time choose to disobey her, you will know my wrath, sir!”
With that, my stepmother placed her hand upon Clarissa’s head and gently urged it down, the better to see her bottom mounding up. “This is agreed between us, is it not, my darling?” she breathed, whereat Clarissa nodded as blindly as might be. Her hair having been loosed of all its pins, virtually naught of her profile was in view on either side. In the superb thrusting out of her bottom and the displaying of her figlike quim, which both combined with her sleekly stockinged legs and smooth, dipped back, she appeared as a totally anonymous symbol of supreme femininity. How dearly would I liked to have licked up between those ivory-smooth cheeks and then sought the moist bouquet beneath!
“Put him to her then, Bertha, and may he have marked well what I have said,” came my stepmother’s words while the cane moved menacingly in her hand.
Bertha cackled and, even from beneath the gag he wore I could hear a coarse croaking sound as the plumblike knob of his penis was brought close to the pouring lips of Clarissa’s quim. For an eternity it seemed to hover there, my stepmother placing the palm of her hand gently between the young woman’s shoulder blades, then-to an upward jerking of her guardian’s chin-the swollen crest was nosed between the rolled lovelips, causing Clarissa to jerk a little and utter a moan. Mouth open-as if I wished to absorb the succulent male fruit myself-I watched it urge within, the pulsing stem being severely controlled in its forward motion by Bertha’s ringing fingers.
“ZOOO-OOOH!” came from Clarissa, but the sound was quickly bitten back, for which I much admired her. In such circumstances of control, there are few more enervating sights than to see a long, thick, erect penis entering a female’s honeypot. The lips of Clarissa’s cunny urged apart, like two small waves that encounter the prow of a boat. Her fingers clenched and her nose buried itself in the counterpane.
“Half in and hold!” my stepmother said and with that Bertha with her free hand pinched his big buttocks and so made him give such a start that Clarissa received a full four inches of his cock, her cunny becoming even more distended while her hips waggled rebelliously, but at a soothing of my stepmother’s hand were bravely still again. Her guardian’s legs trembled mightily, his thighs resembling small treetrunks and his calves quivering.
“She’s going to be lovely at it, m’am. I knowed it the first time I saw her. See how still she is, how nicely she comports herself.”
This from Bertha, of course. From my stepmother, a mere nod, as though it was what she had expected of her pupil all the time.
“Let him proceed,” she murmured. “Take the cane, Bertha, and station yourself behind him. I shall begin the count… ONE!”
“FEEE-OOOH!” came Clarissa’s muffled hiss as now the big banana of flesh sheathed itself slowly in her quim until his balls hung down beneath her curls.
“TWO, sir!”
Out it withdrew, and with full majesty until the knob hovered almost beyond the figlike entrance and then drove up again.
The knuckles on Clarissa’s hands distinctly whitened, but my stepmother was scarcely watching her as such. Having full faith in her, as it seemed, she monitored such tiny signs of Clarissa’s hip movements which might seem to have indicated that she wished to expel the invader. My cunny itself moistened all the more and surreptitiously I stood with my legs parted.
“The male is but a penis-bearer and a provider of our means of livelihood and our luxuries, Clara,” my stepmother told me later. “True, he may be taken up in conversation sometime and, if proving witty or in any way informative, may be listened to though not with respect. For a woman listens to a man’s mind as much as his words and, given that she is ripe of figure, will divine the speech that goes on silently in his head, that being concerned solely with means of taking down our drawers.”
That which was happening before me now I wished never to end. As he came upon his twentieth stroke, his movements seemed bolder-so much so that Bertha seized the short hairs at the back of his head and hissed a warning in his ear. As for Clarissa, her cunny had distinctly moistened, for I saw her exudations glistening on his shaft as it emerged and the distended lips seemed positively to cling around its girth.
“Twenty-one-twenty-two-a little faster now for a moment-let her feel the slapping of your balls, sir. That she will empty them for you I have no doubt,” my stepmother said. Her lovely face showed no emotion whatever save that there was a glistening in her eyes that came, as I surmised, from pride in her accomplishment.
He was breathing more heavily now, as the snorts from his nostrils betokened. I had little doubt that he wished to spill already and so did my stepmother for she halted him with his bulbous knob just inside Clarissa’s nest and thrust his chin up.
“You will receive now, sir, one cut of the cane as a warning of your fate should you sperm her prematurely.”
Oh my goodness, what a yell he would have uttered if he could as then Bertha whipped the cane in full across his buttocks! His head jerked further up so that his chin pointed to the ceiling, and his eyes came out on stalks while in trying to evade the whippy cane his prick thrust full up Clarissa’s quim and held there tight.
“Thirty-one,” my stepmother intoned mercilessly even while his eyes creased up in a grimace and a red streak showed across his bottom.
True, she was putting him to his task severely, for the male serf’s cock is usually nursed over a period of time until he learns to have it rubbed more and more beguilingly, but without coming save on command. In the first weeks of disciplining, the male is not permitted to come at all and so learns that the hand that soothes him is also the one that masters him and which he must obey, whether it is nursed in the palm, urged up the female bottom or sheathed in a clinging cunny.
I will not, though, detail the sweet agonies of Clarissa’s guardian-if such he was-at any greater length. No man could have wished to reach the post more urgently than he.
“Fifty-and NOW!” came from my stepmother whereat, the tendons on his neck straining violently, he brought Clarissa’s bottom to smack against his belly and injected his tribute in long throbbing spouts of such abundance that both of them quivered and rubbed together for ages before his dripping spout was finally withdrawn, whereupon Bertha gave him no time for settlement but simply led him out.
His task was done. I saw the meaning of it then better than any words that might then have been uttered to me. The whole role of the male had changed before my eyes. Such food for thought is rarely given to a girl of my then young age.
Immediately his steaming weapon was withdrawn, Clarissa sank down and wriggled on her belly where she lay supine. At that, my stepmother raised her fingers to her lips and motioned me to withdraw. I did so, but lingered at the door, hearing murmurings and kisses.
“Yes, if you want,” I heard Clarissa say and then came a rustling of clothes and I guessed that my stepmother was undressing. It was a full threequarters of an hour before they reappeared, both looking cool and faultless in appearance as my stepmother ever intends after such an event. As to my brother and Charlie, Bertha had tied them up back to back in the potting shed, nursed their cocks, and then left them so. They were more severely in training now.
Clarissa’s guardian sat transfixed and knowing not where to look, being completely attired and unbound, so free to move.
“You may escort Clarissa back now, but you will return within two days so that I hear what she has to say. Kneel, cur, and kiss the toes of her shoes as a token of your obedience!”
There was a moment’s silence, as may well be imagined, and then he stepped forward to his “ward” who looked now utterly demure.
“My dear…” he began.
“You were not summoned to speak, but to obey, sir!” snapped my stepmother who made such a small, menacing movement in his direction that he fell to his knees upon the instant and, raising the wide hem of Clarissa’s dress, laved his mouth greedily over the polished toes of her shoes. Feet slightly apart, she did not stir.
“You may have him kiss your thighs before you retire tonight, Clarissa. He will kneel to do so, but his lips will attempt nothing else.”
“Yes,” was Clarissa’s quiet response. She stepped back smoothly but quickly then, causing his mouth to fall upon the carpet so that with the most foolish of expressions on his face he rose awkwardly and stared as though lost from one to the other.
“You may go,” my stepmother told him distantly. “Follow three paces behind her at all times.”
“Of course.” He stumbled and sought rather humbly to meet Clarissa’s eyes but she had turned away and swept in ladylike fashion into the hall.
“Another convert!” my stepmother laughed as their carriage departed. My mind, however, was on other matters.
“What did you mean about Sarah?” I asked, whereat her eyes took on a different look.
“She is to be put up to the cock in a manner that will teach her the best of lessons,” I was told, but could gain no more from her.