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Aunt Maude wakened me in my early morning warmth. She brought me tea. I sat up and drank from a translucent cup. 'You were bad yesterday - do you know you were bad?' she asked. She fondled my hair while I drank. I did not know what to answer. Often in those days I did not know.
My aunt drew down the sheet and tutted. 'Your stockings are laddered.' she said. I had not bothered to take them off. She rose and took new ones from a drawer. The sheet was laid down to the end of the bed. Caressing my legs she drew off my stockings and replaced them. The new, black ones were of openwork style that came to the very tops of my thighs. 'It is better so,' she said and waited until I had finished the tea.
'You will be a good girl now, Beatrice, will you?' I said yes with my eyes. My eyes were soft with the morning. My aunt removed my nightdress and attended to my face with powder and rouge. 'Maria was bad - do you remember?' she asked. I said yes. My voice was soft with the morning. It was yesterday or the day before. I had forgotten the day.
'Amanda improves a little. Arabella is properly settled now of course,' Aunt Maude continued. She glossed my long hair with a brush. Its bristles tickled my back 'They are not as you are, Beatrice. Turn over now - your bottom up, well up.'
I obeyed. I drew my knees up. I was to be punished for my wickedness in the water closet and the study. My wrists were strapped to the sides of the bed where the iron supports ran beneath the mattress. Then my ankles.
'Dip your back properly - present yourself, Beatrice!' Her tone was sharp. When I did, she moved back behind me. I laid my cheek on the pillow and waited. 'Such a perfect bottom - you surpass us all,' she breathed.
The whip was in her hand, taken from beneath my pillow. The thongs flicked out, making me arch and rear like a filly. I turned my face inwards and bit into my pillow. The tips stung and searched me - messengers of seeking. They sought my crevices. Their small mouths nipped and made me writhe. Heat expanded. Tendrils of fire - hot in their seeking. The hissing hissed to my bold cheeks, my pumpkin, skirting my offered fig, my honeypot. Much as I squirmed and gasped the sensation had its bitter sweetness. The straps held me. A sound beyond. The whip fell. My face rustled in its hiding in the pillow. My uncle entered. I knew his steps, the heavy footsteps falling. I struggled at my straps. My hips weaved. My eyes closed, opened, closed. The bed sagged between my legs - my legs splayed wide.
'No, Uncle. No!'
'Be quiet, Beatrice!' Her hand stroked my hair. 'Slap her hard, Thomas, if she wriggles. She must learn!' I gargled, gurgled, squealed. Thong-kissed, my cheeks were parted. The knob of his wicked nosed against my 0, the puckered rim. Hands clasped my hips and stilled their wayward motions. The rim yielded. I received an inch of throbbing shaft. I endeavoured to tighten. Too late. The piston pistoned. Half his cock was sheathed.
'How tight she grips!' he groaned. Subtle and smooth he urged it more within. 'What a bottom of glory - hot, hot, how clinging! Your tongue, Maude!'
I heard their lips, the licking. Her hand slipped beneath my belly, fondled the lips of my quim and parted them, seeking my cit. I bucked. The movement allowed my uncle's prick to bury itself farther. Their lips sucked apart. I moaned in my writhings, in his steely grip.
'Aaaaah!' I gasped, my breath expelled. Without warning he had lodged it full within. The long thick prick throbbed deep within my bottom. Leaning over me, his palms cupped my swaying breasts. My aunt moved back, forcing her way beneath me where I knelt. My head swam. My moistening anus held its velvet grip. Half-emerging, his tool sheathed itself to the full again, emerged, and then repeated the gesture. Sparks sprinkled in my belly. My hot cheeks churned against his form.
Aunt Maude drew my mouth down upon her own. 'Move your bottom, Beatrice - move it on his cock.' I blubbered in her mouth. Her tongue lapped my seepings. Moving more easily now his stiff penis commenced its majestic indriving. I jolted with his jolts. A sharp tingling sweetness in my slit increased. 'Move your bottom - you are on the rocking horse - pretend.'
Coarse in her excitement, my aunt clasped my cheeks. Our mouths were sucking sponges together. I lapped as greedily as she. I moved my hips. An insensate lust seized me to feel his spurting. Lewdly I churned my bottom, drawing hoarse cries of delight from my uncle whose cock pistoned me ever faster. His hands caressed my stockinged thighs. They joined with my aunt's in fondling my breasts.
'Yes!' In my aunt's mouth I moaned my lostness. 'Make him come in your bottom, Beatrice.'
'Yes! Do you not know your power, my love? Ram his belly - empty his balls!'
The words . . . were they the words . . . the power? I moved, I choked, my senses swirled. My tongue in my aunt's mouth, I drew the cheeks of my bottom forward until I could almost feel the knob at my rim.
'Hold now!' Aunt Maude instructed. She had slid from beneath me and joined her husband. I squeezed upon the knob which like a plum was lodged just within. 'Be still, Thomas!' I heard, 'Beatrice, you will move at your wish now.'
Head hung, my lips pursed tight beyond her seeing. A final test of my total obedience? The leaves of old albums turned their pages slowly in my mind. My teeth chattered briefly. The lure was now exquisite. Unmoving as my uncle was in his stillness, I urged back. A certain oiliness between us had eased the passage. My bottom expanded comfortably but tightly round his tool. I heard his breathing come more coarsely as inch by inch I absorbed it to the full.
'No movement, Thomas,' my aunt breathed.
A small husky sob escaped me. I began to jerk my bottom in little frenetic stabs. Each one allowed me to feel the full length of his pestle. The rubbery rim of my anus mouthed it more tightly. I could accommodate my pressure, as it seemed.
'At your own pace, Beatrice. Are you coming?'
I could scarce breathe for the excitement of sensations. The feeling was unique. The heat in my bottom added to the wicked, itchy-burning of my submission. The pressure of my cheeks to his belly in the slow backward strokes had an intimacy all its own.
I had come twice in far-faint thrilling spillings. Lifting my head slightly, I rotated my bottom with his cock half lodged within me. His croaks were my reward. The urgent throbbings of his tool redoubled.
'You wish him to come, Beatrice?'
I did not understand. Why was I asked? Who then was master here? His hands no longer held my hips. Each movement was of my own volition.
'Y-y-yes,' I stammered. My voice was a small-girl voice. Sunlight in the attic, hazed with dust. The stone cooler where the wine had waited in our aftermaths. The wrigglings of my bottom as I descended the ladder, my mouth clouded with summer. I heard a gasp from my uncle. His statuesque pose astonished - the root of his manhood unmoving as I urged upon its lusts. A deep quivering seized him in the next soft smacking of my bottom to his belly. The mouth of my 0 gripped him as in a velvet vice. As of an instinct I held my plump cheeks now tight into him and squirmed. His groans resounded. Ah! the jetting, the deep liquid in-spurts - each long thick pulsing of come known, felt, absorbed in spongelike warmth. I sniffled, tightened, hissed my breath. The globs shot out again, insucked. My anus flowed with riches, trickling out. Swimming in sensations, I collapsed. The slug of flesh plopped out - wet nose upon my thighs. My bonds were loosed. A shuffling from behind and he was gone, seed spent, the sac of his balls lighter. Drowsy in my sweet fulfillment's I was turned. I lay upon my back.
Her mouth touched mine. Fingers felt my wetness both at my mound and my bottom. 'It is good,' Aunt Maude murmured. My body fluttered and trembled still. My thighs lay open, wanton. Our tongues touched. My lips were petals to her stamen - seeking. My aunt turned the pages in my mind and read from them silently, slowly. 'What do you want?' she asked.
I sought a word. 'Everything,' I said. The word was a butterfly caught in a net. Its wings were unbroken. Her eyes released it again. It flew about us and melted within me. Her finger traced my lower lip, causing me to pout. Without meaning to I giggled.
'Jenny is in a cage,' my aunt said. I did not believe her. For a moment I did not believe her. I tightened my thighs together but she tickled me and made them lie wide again, my legs straight in their net stockings. 'Dress now. Wear drawers. Be firm with her. Tell her what you would have her do.'
In my rising I stared at her. The room yawned about me. I fussed with my dress. Oozings of sperm slide - slithered down my thighs at the back. 'It is true?' I asked.
Aunt Maude laughed and lifted my chin. 'Why else were you sent? Do you not know yet your beginnings and your endings? Have you not been nurtured, led to this? Their cocks would have been your undoing. Would you be as Caroline, Amanda or Jenny?'
My head would not move. I was rigid in my knowings.
'Even so, there may be lewdnesses - at your permitting. Your freedom is entire now, Beatrice. I shall mark your progress. Instil, train, command. Do you understand?' She loosed my chin.
I nodded. The air about my eyes had lost its mist. The sperm had bubbled from Caroline's bottom, perhaps, long ere this. I made appraisals, promisings - within myself I delved and sought. The cheeks of my bottom were heavy, warm, fulfilled.
I turned from her and made my way upstairs. The door to my uncle's study lay open. He was writing at his desk. At my passing he looked up. His eyes were hollow. I swayed my hips with a certain insolence. I wished him to look. 'How firm and fleshy you are,' my aunt had said. I sensed my perversities. The air of the house hung now about me like an old cloak. Jenny was naked in a cage. Amanda lay upon the couch on her back, tightly bound from head to feet. I unlocked the cage. Jenny's arms were strapped to her sides. She wore black stockings and a long string of pearls which hung between her melon breasts. She was sitting. She stared at me dully. I motioned my head and she rose with an effort, rolling for a moment against the bars. Then she recovered herself and stepped out.
I led her to the bar. I intended to strap her. Her small, tight bottom had a fascination for me. It was like Amanda's except that Jenny was shorter than she. Her hair had been trimmed in an urchin cut. 'Do not speak until I speak,' I said. I bent her over the bar and gave her bottom a sharp smack. With her arms bound, it was needful for me only to touch the back of her downbent head lightly. The sound of the smack coupled with the resilience of the cheeks and the wild little gasp that she uttered thrilled me tremendously. Slowly I left her and walked over to the wall where the straps hung. I selected the shortest and thickest. Amanda's eyes beseeched me briefly. I gave her a small tight smile that betokened nothing.
'When we were younger, did Father have you?' I asked Jenny. In uttering my words I brought the leather across her bottom with a loud Cra-aaaaack! Her hips swayed and jerked inwards so far as the bar would allow them to. A dull flush spread across her hemispheres. 'You intend not to answer, Jenny?'
Her face was suffused. A second, sharper stroke of the leather made her yelp more. 'Yes, Beatrice.'
'When you came to sleep in the guest-room?' The double doors of the past opened more clearly to me now. They yawned upon our yesterdays.
'Yesssssss!' she hissed as the loud-smacking strap again seared her bottom.
'You will tell me later in precise detail. Rise!' Her face contorted as she did so. She swiveled round on her heels and stood before me. Her head hung. I smiled and tweaked her nipples. 'How delicious you must have been for him,' I said coldly. I felt no emotion. It was an observation. I led her downstairs by her string of pearls which I knew she would fear to have broken. Her small feet padded silently on the carpet. Leading her into my room which was empty again, I gave her a further smack, making her jump. She skittered nervously forward and then stood still.
'Kneel!' I told her. A sense of severity entered into me, but I was as yet not entirely tutored. A few months hence and I would have handled her even better. Kneeling and with her head and shoulders bowed dutifully, she looked as one seeking protection. It was part of her attraction. I wanted her tongue - her small darting tongue - but it was too soon as yet.
I walked round her, inspecting her slowly. She had grown little through the years, I thought. Her body was small, curves tight and sweet. 'You were strapped that night?' I asked. 'Yes.' The little word upon the carpet lay. I stood before her once more and raised my foot, bringing the sole of my boot down gently on the back of her head. Her lips touched the toe of my other boot and kissed it. 'Begin, Jenny.'
Her mouth mumbled against my boot. Her lips smudged its glossy surface. I edited her text in my mind as she spoke, sensing her slyness. Her conversion that night had been swift, as she would have had me believe. In the double bed to which she had been carried while supposedly half asleep, her nightgown had been stripped, her bottom poised. Fearful to cry out lest she woke me, she had been scorched by the strap. Confessions had been drawn from her that she said were false. After a score of strokes she had been stilled, even as my uncle had stilled me, with a long deep plunge and then withdrawal. But then it had entered her again and so remained, deep in its throbbings. On being carried back at last to the guest room, she had felt isolated, lonely. The silence of the house at night had hung about her like bat's wings. Her bottom knew heat and emptiness and longing. In her tinglings she had lain.
'Go on,' I said when, at this part of her narrative, she halted. 'There was no more,' she mumbled. Her mouth moved over my boot even more fervently.
'Do you believe her?' It was my aunt. She had entered unseen, unheard. Her look ignored Jenny. She came across, lifted my chin and kissed me. The kiss endured. My aunt's hand reached down and sought Jenny's hair while our mouths were locked. She drew Jenny's face upwards, beneath my skirt, between my thighs. Open, warm and seeking, Jenny's lips nuzzled into the vee of my drawers. I felt the pleading lapping of her tongue. I did not move. My hips were unresponsive as if by instinct. By placing her free hand beneath my bottom, Aunt Maude could tell it was so. Her lips moved with pleasure upon mine. Our salivas mingled.
'Do you believe her?' she asked again. I would not answer. I wanted what I knew within myself. My bottom squeezed in my remembering. My aunt's mouth swam back from mine. 'Tell her,' she said quietly.
I looked down. The front of my skirt was looped over Jenny's head. Her tongue worked industriously, tracing the lips of my quim through my drawers. Despite a faint trembling of my knees I moved not.
'Down!' I commanded. The surge of power was within me. I knew the power.
Jenny's response was instant. She sank down again. Her mouth deserted me.
'Go! go to your cage!' I said.
With the closing of the door my aunt took my hand and guided me to sit upon the bed. Going to my closet she poured a liqueur for each of us. Returning, she sat beside me. 'You will continue your meditations,' she said, 'plan your plottings, maneuver them to your will.'
The freshness of cool water was within me after my handling of Jenny. 'All?' I asked.
Aunt Maude did not answer me directly. 'You dealt well with Jenny. It shall be so with Caroline and - upon your need - with Katherine. Observe the males. How proudly their cocks rise. Hidden sometimes beneath their breeches - at others lewdly exposed. Frig them, toy with them, play with them. The bubbling jets expel. Their faces soften, their cocks soften. They are as putty. Their training is no more arduous than that of the girls. They shall service you only at your bidding.'
'Service?' I sensed the meaning, yet I asked. 'In your lewdnesses, Beatrice - your slit, your bottom. Never your mouth. Mouths are for others.'
'Such as Caroline?'
'Shy in her sweetness, she has sucked upon their bubblings, yes. Had you not known this? She is shy, acquiescent. Her mouth lends itself like a rose to the sperm, imbibing deeply. In her demureness she wipes her lips secretively and blushes. Did you not know?'
I hid my face. It was my last shyness. 'Perhaps,' I said. Spiders' webs glistened in my mind, broke, fell apart. I envied her for a moment - the big knob purplish at her lips, her tongue gliding beneath the veins. The urgent gliding, sliding. The silence save for the sucking of her lips. Sweet throbbing of the tool - its jets outspurting. Mouth salty, creamed, her limp form raised. Her bottom fondled.
I came to myself again. 'Shall we return soon?' I asked.
'At your wish, Beatrice.' A last flourish of her glass and she was gone.
I leaned back. The wall was cool to my back. In the summer I would have cages on the lawn - between the shrubbery and the summerhouse. I would have my whip. My eyes would be as fire, my breasts uplifted. Yes.