The winter and spring passed. It was again midsummer, and I was living in London for the season. Frances had now been settled in her house for a year; and as her liaison with me was not known to anyone; and as she was young, handsome, and comparatively rich, she had made a number of friends and acquaintances of both sexes. She went out a great deal, and she occasionally gave a dinner party; moreover she had a regular “afternoon,” which was always well attended; for Mrs. Markham had got the reputation-a well-deserved one-of being a pleasant and amusing hostess. She had many admirers, of all sorts and conditions: some of them needy fortune-hunters, who wanted to marry her for the sake of her money; while others were men who wanted to marry her for the sake of her beautiful face and splendid figure. I felt very sure that she would marry again, sooner or later; but so far she had not shown any preference for any man in particular. She and I were still very good friends; she always appeared glad to see me whenever I called, she told me everything that happened to her, and she consulted me about her affairs; moreover, she let me poke her whenever I wished to do so. Therefore, as I knew that no other man touched her, I was quite content to “lay low,” and watch the game that was going on all round me. The boy had been sent to a boarding-school; but the girl remained at home under the tuition of Miss Martin. She occasionally misbehaved, and whenever she did, she got a sound birching in the drawing-room, from her stepmother, who always took care to let me know the hour at which the punishment was to be inflicted; and I never failed to be behind the curtains. Dora was now over thirteen years-and-a-half old: she had grown a little, and her beautiful, white bottom was bigger and plumper. But she was still a great coward whenever she came under the rod; always screaming, kicking up her heels, and begging for mercy, from the first cut to the last. I liked seeing her being whipped!
The summer wore on: Frances, with Miss Martin, and Dora, went down to Eastbourne; while I started off to Norway on a fishing excursion; but I did not get much sport, as it was too late in the season. However, I enjoyed my tour very much, as I had never been in Norway before. I liked driving in the carioles from place to place; and I admired the magnificent scenery of the fiords; though I was disappointed with the blue-eyed, flaxen-haired damsels. Many of them were pretty, but they did not appear to have any fun in them; and the few that I poked were great big cold creatures who lay like logs under me, hardly even moving their broad fat bottoms at the supreme moment.
Frances and I got back to London about the same time; and things went on between us pretty much as before. She always had numbers of invitations, but she kept herself disengaged one night in the week, so that I might dine quietly with her and Miss Martin. On those occasions we were always merry at the table, and when the meal was over and we had gone into the drawing-room, Frances would sit beside me in a corner-while Miss Martin played the piano-and tell me what she had been doing with herself since she had last seen me: and she would frequently ask my advice on various matters. But for all that, I had an idea that she was keeping something back, and that we were gradually drifting apart.
After all, I was getting on for forty-five years of age; and she had younger admirers, any one of whom would marry her.
I never said a word; knowing that in due course of time, she would tell me everything. And I could see that she had already begun to look upon me more in the light of a guardian than a lover; though she still seemed to enjoy the pokes I gave her. She and Miss Martin had become great friends; but I know that Frances never told her true story to the governess; nor did that lady ever find out that I was carrying on an intrigue with her employer.
Miss Martin had however told her story to Frances, who related it to me one day. It was a very ordinary story; without the least touch of romance. I will give it here.
The governess was a married woman. Martin was her maiden name. She was the daughter of a poor person in Devonshire; and she had been married when she was twenty years of age, to a man who was cashier of a large bank in Plymouth; and who had a good salary. The marriage had turned out badly; her husband took to gambling and betting, and he lost a great deal of money; then he became a drunkard, and ill-treated her: finally he embezzled money belonging to the bank; and to avoid arrest he fled the country; leaving her penniless, after three wretched years of married life. Fortunately there were no children. Her father and mother were dead, and she had no rich relatives to assist her. But as she was well educated, and could get testimonials as to her character, she turned governess, and had supported herself ever since her husband had left her. She had never heard from him; and she did not know whether he was alive or dead. Frances also informed me that Miss Martin had confided to her, that she-had never been embraced by any man but her husband, and that she had been longing for an embrace ever since he had left her.
The two ladies had lately taken to amusing themselves with photography. Frances had bought a complete outfit, intending to do everything herself, with the assistance of Miss Martin. So they had fitted up a dark room in which to develop their plates, and as they were both clever, neat-handed women, they soon had made themselves fairly proficient amateur photographers.
They photographed each other in various costumes and they “took” me in all sorts of attitudes; they “took” the children, and the servants; and they made excursions into the country, photographing old houses, or anything else that struck their fancy.
One afternoon, when the photography “craze” was at its height, I was having a cup of tea with Frances in the drawing-room after a very pleasant poke; when she suddenly asked: “Do you think Miss Martin has got a good figure?”
I replied: “She seems to have a. good one; but when a woman has got on all her clothes and her corset, one can never tell how much of her figure is natural; half of it may be due to the dressmakers’ art. The only way of finding out whether a woman has a good figure or not, is by seeing her naked. Now I have often seen you naked; therefore I know you have a most lovely figure,” I added, kissing her, and feeling her bottom.
She smiled, looking very much pleased. Then she went on: “Would you like to see Miss Martin and me naked together, so that you could compare our figures?”
I laughed, thinking she was joking. “I should very much like to have a chance of making the comparison, if it were possible.”
“It is possible,” she said coolly. “You shall see us both stark naked to-morrow. We are going to photograph each other in a state of nudity, and you can hide behind the curtains in the alcove while we are at work. Of course, she won’t have the faintest suspicion that you are there, so she will be perfectly at her ease, and you will be able to make a thorough inspection of her charms.”
The idea tickled me immensely, and I lay back in my chair, laughing heartily; then kissing Frances, I said: “You are a wonderful woman to have thought of such a thing: It will be awfully good fun, and I shall enjoy the scene immensely.”
“Oh, I know yon will,” she said smiling. “Be here tomorrow at a quarter to two. Miss Martin is going out shopping in the morning, and will not be back till two o’clock; and by that time you will be behind the curtains. She won’t have the least idea that you have come to the house during her absence.”
“I shall be here without fail to inspect the lady; I am sure she has not got such a good figure as you have,” said I, taking Frances up in my arms, and placing her a-straddle on my thighs. Then I gave her a sitting poke.
As soon as all was over, and she had shaken her petticoats straight, she ran away to dress, as she was going out to a dinner party; and I went off to my club. I ordered a good dinner, and while discussing it, I thought of the “Living Picture” I was going to see the following day. The spectacle would be a most charming and piquant one.
It is not often that a man gets a chance of seeing a modest woman in a state of complete nudity. I do not think many married men ever see their wives quite naked. Now Miss Martin was a modest woman; she had never been seen nude by any man but her husband-perhaps he had never seen her-and she would be perfectly unconscious that she was being looked at by a man. The whole thing would be delicious! After dinner, I played a few games of billiards, and then went back to my chambers, where I read and smoked until it was time to go to bed.
Next day, punctually at a quarter to two o’clock, I arrived at the house, and on entering the drawing-room found Frances there with the camera, and all the rest of the paraphernalia, in readiness for taking the photographs. We kissed; then we looked at each other and burst out laughing. After chatting a few minutes, we heard a knock at the door of the house. “There she is,” said Frances, her eyes sparkling with merriment. “Now get behind the curtain. You shall see some fun.” I took up my position; then she left the room. There was an easy-chair in the alcove, so I sat down and amused myself with a paper I had brought with me. In about twenty minutes, the door was opened, and the two ladies came into the room, laughing and joking with each other; and at once began to get the plates ready. As they tripped about the room, making their final preparations, I saw that they had nothing on but their chemises and wrappers; their bare feet were cased in velvet slippers; and their long hair was flowing loose over their shoulders down to their waists.
When everything was fixed up, Frances slipped a plate into the camera, and said, laughing: “Now we will take two full length photographs of each other: one shall be a front view, and the other a back view. I will operate first; so strip, and take your place.”
Laughing merrily, Miss Martin kicked off her slippers, removed her wrapper, and pulled off her chemise: then, stark naked, she placed herself in front of the camera, standing in a graceful attitude. She was two years older than Frances, and about an inch taller; and also mote largely built in every way. She was what is generally called a “fine woman.” Her skin was smooth, and of a delicate creamy dm, which shone in the bright daylight like polished ivory. Her arms were round and well shaped. She had a full, deep bosom, with large, round, firm-looking bubbies, tipped with big, erect, bright red nipples, which were surrounded by a ring of dark olive-coloured skin. Her hips were very wide, and her belly was broad and unwrinkled. Her cunt was completely hidden under a luxuriant growth of long, soft, brown hair, which extended between her thighs, and also covered the lower part of her belly.
I had never before seen such a thick “fleece” on an Englishwoman. The front view was quickly taken; and as soon as Frances had put a fresh plate into the camera, Miss Martin turned round, and presented the back part of her body to the lens, and also to my admiring eyes. I like looking at a naked woman!
Her shoulders were broad, and sloping, her back had a graceful curve, and she had fine loins. Her bottom was worth looking at; and as my eyes roved over its swelling contours, I said to myself: “What a bottom for a whipping!” It was very large and plump, with broad, well-rounded cheeks touching each other closely the whole length of the division. Her big thighs were well-formed, her legs were shapely; and she had neat ankles and pretty feet.
When the governess’s “back settlements” had been successfully photographed; she put her wrapper on her naked body, and took her place behind the camera.
Frances then stripped, and was photographed, back and front, by Miss Martin.
As Frances had promised to show me some fun, I was curious to see what she would do next; for I had a shrewd idea that the taking of the photographs was merely an introduction to the seance,
The little game was soon begun. She got a tape measure, and going up to Miss Martin, said laughingly: “Take off your wrapper, and then we will measure ourselves all over, so as to find out exactly how much taller and bigger you are than I.”
Miss Martin seemed much amused with the idea, and she at once threw off her wrapper. Then the two naked women stood bottom to bottom and measured their respective heights; Frances being five feet five inches, and the governess: five feet six inches.
Then, laughing and turning each other round; they measured their arms, and thighs and legs; and their busts, waists, and hips. While they were thus engaged, I was able to make a fair comparison of the charms of the two ladies.
Miss Martin’s cream-tinted skin was pretty, but it did not please me so well as the lily-white skin of Frances. I preferred the slight shading of curly, golden hair on Frances’ cunt to the thick growth of straight brown hair which hid Miss Martin’s slit That lady had a fine bosom, a grand bottom, and well-made limbs; and altogether her figure was good; but it was not so good as that of Frances.
Again, Miss Martin, though a graceful woman, was not so graceful in all her movements as Frances. And to sum up, I may say that both women were fine specimens of different types of ripe feminine beauty. But in my opinion, Frances had a more thoroughbred look than the governess.
After completing their measurements, they stood face to face, closely inspecting each other’s charms; and the whiteness of Frances’ skin seemed to attract Miss Martin! She laid her hand on Frances’ bosom saying: “What a beautiful white skin you have got I wish mine was like it”
Frances laughed. She was very proud of her alabaster-like skin; but she said:-untruthfully, I thought-“Oh, I think the tint of your skin is prettier than mine!” Then she put her left arm round the governess’s waist and gave it a squeeze, at the same time feeling her bubbles, and pinching the big red nipples with her right hand; saying: “I admire your titties very much.” The governess smiled, started slightly, and her eyes began to shine, but she made no remark. Frances next put her hand on the lower part of Miss Martin’s belly and played with the hair; twining the long locks round her fingers; remarking: “What lovely long hair you have got here! I never saw anything like it before, on any woman.”
Then she began to tickle the “spot” with her forefinger. A strong tremor passed over the governess from head to foot: her breath came and went; her big titties rose and fell; her face grew flushed, and her eyes sparkled; and suddenly throwing her arms round Frances, she kissed her on the lips, exclaiming in a hot whisper: “Oh! Mrs. Markham, you are exciting me awfully! Oh! how I wish you were a man!”
Frances embraced her; and the two women clung to one another; each one grasping with both hands the cheeks of the other’s bottom; their bosoms touched closely, and they rubbed their bellies together; the hair of their cunts mingling, while they kissed each other on the lips.
Poor Miss Martin was evidently full of desire for a male; but Frances was perfectly cool: she was merely playing with the governess; partly out of devilment, and partly to amuse me.
After a few seconds, she pushed her companion to the sofa and extended her upon it on her back: then, acting the part of the “man,” she stretched out Miss Martin’s legs, and separating the lips of her cunt, inspected the pink orifice; saying with a little laugh: “Why, the passage is almost dosed up!”
Next, she got on top of her, and clasped her hands under her bottom. Then the pair went through all the motions of a man and woman poking. Frances worked her bottom up and down, pushing her cunt at each stroke against Miss Martin’s cunt; while that lady moved her bottom in the feminine way. And I think she must have spent: for I saw a queer look come in to her eyes, and a slight quiver passed over her. She was evidently quite ignorant of “tribadism,” and everything of that sort. Frances, had she liked, might have enlightened her. But she did not After a moment, the woman sat up. Frances was still cool and collected; but Miss Martin was not, and was palpitating. She blushed, and exclaimed: “Oh, dear me! What have we been doing! I’m afraid we’ve been very naughty. It was nice, but very unsatisfactory, and tantalizing. Oh! I would give anything at this moment to be in the arms of a vigorous man!”
I felt very much inclined to step out and offer myself.
After a moment, she went on: “Do you not miss your husband very much at night, Mrs. Markham?”
“I can’t say I do,” replied Frances demurely; but glancing up at the curtains, with a twinkle in her eye. She knew that in a very short time she would have a “husband” on top of her.
“I am surprised to hear that. You seem to be of a warm disposition,” observed Miss Martin.
Frances laughed, remarking: “I think you also, have a warm temperament.”
“Yes,” said the governess. “Unfortunately for myself, I have, I often find it very hard to keep straight-”
“It «very hard for us widows,” said Frances, sighing, as if she was really lamenting the difficulty of keeping straight.
Miss Martin continued: “I would get married again if I were a widow. But I have never heard of my husband’s death; and he said he would come back some day. Though if he does, I will not live with him. He is a bad man, and he treated me shamefully.”
“But,” she added shyly, after a little pause; “he was a strong man, and he used to embrace me most vigorously. Sometimes he ‘did it’ to me half-a-dozen times during the night! I wonder how I escaped having a child.”
“Ah, my husband was a very different sort of man! He could hardly ‘do it’ at all,” said Frances, in a sorrowful tone of voice. She was a capital actress.
“Oh, that must have been horribly tantalizing,” observed Miss Martin. Then she said: “I wonder you don’t get married again.”
“Perhaps I will some day or other,” replied Frances, laughing. Then she stood up, saying: “I feel inclined to dance. Let us have a waltz. You shall be the ‘gentleman’ this time, and yon must hug me tightly.”
Miss Martin laughed, and getting off the sofa, put her arm round her “partner’s” waist in “manly” fashion; then they began to revolve briskly to a waltz tune hummed by Frances. They were both good dancers; and it was a most charming spectacle to see the two shapely naked women waltzing gracefully round and round the room; their beautiful bubbies undulating, their broad hips swaying voluptuously, and the movements of their legs.
At last they sat down, flushed and panting; I thought that all the fun was over: but Frances had not finished her little game. As soon as she had recovered her breath, she put her hand on Miss Martin’s bottom, and stroked it; saying in a tone of admiration:
“What a splendid bottom you have got; so plump and so firm. I thought I had a big bottom, but yours is far bigger in every way.” The governess smiled, and looked very much pleased. “Yes. I have got a big bottom,” she remarked complacently. “My husband used to admire it very much.”
“Well, it is worthy of admiration,” said Frances. “I believe men like women to have large bottoms. But, talking of bottoms, puts me in mind of whipping. I suppose, during the years you have been a governess, you have birched a good many little bottoms.”
“Yes, many a one. I have birched girls up to seventeen years of age.”
Frances laughed, then she asked, in the most innocent way:
“Were you ever birched when you were a girl?”
“Yes, very often.”
“Were you really,” said Frances, as if she were much astonished. “At a boarding-school, I suppose?”
“I never was at a boarding-school. I got all my birchings at home. I will tell you. My mother died when I was ten years old, and I was brought up, and educated entirely by my father. He was a stern, hard man; and whenever I failed in my lessons, or committed an offence, he used to lay me across a chair, bare my bottom, and birch me severely. He kept me under discipline until I was seventeen years of age; and he sometimes flogged me till the blood came.
“But I was a strong-girl, and could take an ordinary birching with considerable fortitude. Of course, I used to cry and writhe, but I never screamed unless he birched me hard enough to draw blood. He used to whip me with a full-sized birch rod; a very different thing to the little toy you use when you whip the children.”
“Well,” said Frances, smiling, “toy as it is, I don’t think you could bear amp; dozen smart cuts of it, without crying out.”
“Oh, I’m sure I could,” said Miss Martin, with a little laugh.
“I’ll bet you a dozen pairs of gloves to one pair, that you don’t take a dozen cuts in perfect silence,” said Frances, laughing.
“I’ll take the bet. I want some gloves, and I am sure to win them. Get out the toy,” said the governess, also laughing.
Frances went to the cabinet for the rod, and as she passed close to the curtains she turned towards them and smiled mischievously. The artful creature, knowing how fond I was of seeing a woman’s bottom whipped, had regularly humbugged the governess into allowing herself to be birched.
Flourishing the rod in the air, she said: “Now, Miss Martin, lie down. You may wriggle, and kick your legs about as much as you like while I am whipping you; but if you utter the least sound, you will lose the bet,”
The governess stretched herself at full length upon the sofa, saying laughingly: “All right, Mrs. Markham! You can begin. You won’t have much trouble in preparing me for punishment. But you must whip me fairly. Don’t strike always on one place; and don’t strike me on the thighs.”
As the end of the sofa was towards the curtains, I had a splendid, full-length view of Miss Martin’s plump, naked figure, as she lay prone; the swelling hemispheres of her great bottom standing out in high relief, white the cream-like tint of her skin was well shown off by the dark olive-green colour of the velvet on which she was lying.
Frances placed herself on the left side of the sofa, so that I saw her naked figure in profile, and very lovely it looked. Her beautiful white skin glistening; her delicious, round, pink-tipped titties rising and falling quickly, a smile curving her ripe red lips, her cheeks slightly flushed, and her blue eyes sparkling with excitement at the idea of using the rod. She was fond of whipping.
She began to birch: and though the rod was but a toy, the birching was no child’s play. Swinging the switch high above her head, for each stroke, she laid on the cuts slowly, with graceful sweeps of her round white arm, and with such force, that her bubbles shook, and the muscles of her bottom quivered each rime she struck the blow,
The little, beribboned birch rod hissed as k swept through the air, and it made a sharp swishing noise as it fell on the firm flesh of Miss Martin’s big bottom. The creamy skin reddened rapidly, and small weals rose in all directions on the broad, plump cheeks. She had winced sharply on receiving the first cat; the pain evidently being greater than she had expected: then she stiffened herself, clenched her fingers in the palms of her hands, buried her face in the sofa cushion, and lay perfectly still. But her flesh quivered involuntarily at each stinging cut of the little rod.
She certainly showed great fortitude. Not a sigh, or a moan escaped her lips, though the birching was a severe one; and when the twelve cuts had been inflicted, her bottom was scarlet and also considerably wealed. But she had won the dozen pairs of gloves. I thought they had cost her dear.
Frances threw down the rod, and Miss Martin got off the sofa, heaved a deep sigh of relief, and stood with both her hands pressed to her bottom. Her face was red, her lips were trembling a little, and her eyes were moist. Smiling faintly, she said in rather a shaky voice: “I have won the bet. But I must say that the ‘toy’ stung in a way that disagreeably surprised me, I should never have believed that it could cause such pain. It was as much as I could do to take the twelve cuts in silence.” Then twisting her head round, and looking over her shoulder, she said: “My bottom is very much marked, and it is still smarting dreadfully.”
Frances said, in a tone of sympathy: “Oh, you poor dear! I did not think you could have borne the birching. I fully expected you would have told me to stop, after I had given you two or three cuts. You have got pluck. I am sure I could not have taken one cut without screaming.”
All this was to flatter her victim. She went on: “You had better go to your bedroom, and bathe your bottom with cold water. I will put away the camera, and see to the plates.”
Poor Miss Martin, with a rueful face, rubbed her bottom, and said: “I shan’t be able to sit down comfortably for hours. I remember that I used to rub vaseline on my bottom to allay the smarting after a flogging. I will apply some now.”
Then she put on her chemise and wrapper; thrust her feet into her slippers and left the room.
Frances, still perfectly naked, threw herself down upon the sofa and burst out laughing; and I came out of the alcove, in a state of intense excitement. The whole spectacle had been most lascivious, from the moment the two ladies had stripped themselves naked, up to the moment the governess had left the room. My cock had been in full erection the whole time, and now it was positively aching from the prolonged strain; so I at once threw myself upon the lovely naked woman, and clasping her lithe, yielding body in my arms, I poked her with such vigour that I astonished both her and myself.
When she had put on her scanty attire, she sat down beside me on the sofa, and after complimenting me on the vigour I had shown; she said: “I hope you enjoyed the entertainment. I think it was quite a Variety’ show.”
“It was splendid,” I replied, giving her a hearty kiss. “I never enjoyed anything more in my life. You are a very clever woman. The way you worked up Miss Martin was a triumph of art.”
Frances laughed merrily. “Oh, she is a perfect innocent! She has learnt more this afternoon, than she ever learnt in the whole of her previous life. Now, tell me truly what you dunk of her figure.”
“She is a very well-made woman, but her figure is not so good as yours,” I replied; and I meant what I said.
Frances was very much pleased, and she kissed me. Then she observed: “Well anyhow, she has got a bigger bottom than I have. I really do admire it; and I should often like to birch it, as I did just now.”
“I daresay you would,” I said, laughingly. “But I am very sure you will never be able to get her to let you birch her again. You flogged her right well, and she must be rather sore at this moment.”
“I did lay on smartly,” said Frances smiling, “and I am afraid I shall never again have the pleasure of touching her big bottom with the rod. But now you had better go away. I don’t want her to find out that you have been in the house at all. Come back at seven o’clock and dine with us; but be careful not to drop a hint about what you have seen.”
I accepted the invitation to dinner; then I gave Frances a kiss, and slipped quietly out of the house, while Miss Martin was still in her room-putting vaseline on her bottom-I suppose. It was then four o’clock, so I took a stroll in Regent-street, and “drew” the Burlington Arcade. Then I went to my chambers and dressed for dinner, and at seven o’clock, I was again in Frances’ drawing-room, waiting for the ladies to make their appearance. In about five minutes they came into the room with their arms round each other’s waists; both were prettily dressed, Frances looking handsome, and Miss Martin looking quite pretty. She shook hands with me in her cordial way; her face showed no trace of disturbance, her eyes were bright, and her manner was as calm and composed, as if nothing out of the common had occurred during the afternoon. The birching had not affected her spirits; though no doubt her bottom was still tender.
We had a very nice dinner, and when it was over we spent a pleasant evening in the drawing-room, conversing on the various topics of the day. Miss Martin talked well, and sensibly, and, as I chatted with her, I often caught Frances glancing at me with such a humorous twinkle in her eyes that I had some difficulty in keeping my countenance. How horrified the demure-looking lady would have been, had she known that I had seen her, stark naked, being birched a few hours previously! I did not get back to my chamber till midnight. I stayed in town for three weeks after that little event, then, as the shooting season had commenced, I went down to Oakhurst, where I remained until the end of the year.