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By time it was past six o'clock, so I made preparations to depart, but Frances would not let me go. She said she had ordered a nice little dinner, as she bad fully expected me to stay.
I was delighted to remain a little longer with my old sweetheart; and I told her so. She then said: "Dinner will be ready at seven o'clock, so I must run away and dress; and I will send a maid to show you to a room where you can wash your hands."
Then she tripped away; and a few minutes after, a maid-servant came and took me upstairs to a charmingly furnished bedroom, where I found a jug of hot water, comb and brushes, towels, and various other articles for making a toilet, laid out in readiness for me. I had a good wash, and brushed my hair; then I went down again to the drawing room, where Frances was already seated, looking fresh and lovely, in a handsome black silk dinner gown, with her hair elaborately dressed in the latest style. Presently we were joined by the governess, to whom I was introduced by Frances. She said that I was her old guardian; which was, to a certain extent, the truth.
The governess, Miss Martin, was a ladylike woman, not more than thirty years of age; she had a pleasant face and manner; and she was nicely dressed. We had a little chat, and I was glad to see that Frances treated the governess with kindness and consideration, speaking to her on all occasions as one lady should speak to another, whatever may be their relative positions. At seven o'clock, dinner was announced, and, in obedience to a sign from Frances, I gave Miss Martin my arm, and led her into the dining room. We sat down at a round table, prettily decorated with flowers and fruit; the dinner was good, and well cooked, the wines were of very fair quality, and we were waited on by two smart parlour maids. It was a merry little repast. Frances had always been a well-informed woman, and an amusing talker; but that night her conversation was more brilliant and witty than I had ever known it to be in the old days. Miss Martin also, had plenty to say for herself, and it struck me that she had a bit of fun in her. However, our conversation was of the most decorous description, and we all got on together extremely well. At dessert, the children came in, prettily dressed, and looking like little pictures. Each was given a plate of fruit, and they remained in the room a short time, chattering away without restraint, but behaving with perfect propriety.
After dinner, Frances told me to smoke my cigar; and when I had finished it, we went into the drawing-room, where my charming hostess, glancing at me with a humorous twinkle in her eyes, sank gracefully down upon the sofa which had been the altar of our love a few hours previously. I drew up a chair beside her, and we had a long and confidential chat, while Miss Martin played the piano.
At eleven o'clock, I bade the ladies good night; drove off to my chambers, and went to bed, feeling much pleased at knowing that my old sweetheart would be always at my disposal whenever I wanted a poke.
The time slipped away rapidly, and pleasantly. I called upon Frances nearly every day; she being always delighted to see me; and I seldom left the house without at least one poke. I also dined occasionally with her, but she would never dine out with me, nor would she go about much in my company. She said, laughingly, that now she was a rich widow, she did not wish to have any scandal talked about her. I thought she was right. And I was quite satisfied as long as she did not make any objection to my poking her. But she never did make an objection - quite the contrary - she was always ready, and glad to receive the "stroke of love."
We revelled in our mutual embraces; and to me, it was always most piquant to poke the luscious and lovely woman fully attired in her charming toilettes, in all sorts of fancy positions; on the sofa, or sitting in a chair, and sometimes kneeling on all-fours upon the floor.
No more voluptuous woman than Frances ever wriggled her bottom in the delicious spasm of love.
I had not as yet seen either of the children birched, and went behind the curtains, and held them closely together where they met, but I left a narrow little space, through which I could see everything, without being seen.
In a couple of minutes, Frances returned, leading by their hands the two young culprits. Robert, dressed in his black velvet suit, had a woeful expression on his face, but he did not show any other signs of fear. Flora was looking intensely frightened; she was whimpering, and the tears were trickling down her pale cheeks.
As I have before said, she was a charmingly pretty little girl, with long, glossy, soft auburn hair flowing loose. She was handsomely dressed from head to foot, and the skirt of her black frock only reaching a little below her knees, showed her small, but well-formed legs clad in black silk stockings. On her tiny feet she wore smart patent leather shoes.
Frances locked the door; then going to a cabinet, she took out a short, slender little birch rod, tied up with scarlet ribbons; and though the rod looked like a toy, it was quite big enough to raise weals on a child's bottom, and to make it smart sorely.
Both the children knew, by bitter experience, that the small birch could sting; and at the sight of the bristling twigs, Robert's lips began to tremble a little, while Dora whimpered more loudly, and covered her face with her hands.
Frances, rod in hand, seated herself on a low chair which she had placed so close to the curtains that I could almost have touched her, by stretching out my ann. Then she ordered the culprits to come and stand in front of her. The boy at once obeyed; but the girl hesitated, and the order had to be sharply repeated, before she complied with it.
Frances now took hold of Robert, laid him over her lap, unbuttoned his knickerbockers and pulled them down to his knees; then she carefully tucked up his little shirt all round, back and front, at the same time feeling his wee tool; and as she did so, she glanced up at the curtains, with a roguish smile on her face. She had seated herself with her right side turned to the curtain, so that I had a full-length view of the boy as he sprawled over her lap, with his arms and legs hanging down; and I could see everything as plainly as if I had had the young culprit lying across my own knees.
She now lectured the boy on his idleness, and told him that she would whip him every time the governess reported him for not learning his lessons. And the whole time she was speaking, she stroked and patted the cheeks of his plump little bottom. Then she gave him a dozen slight cuts, which, however, striped his skin all over with red streaks; he winced at each cut, and wriggled about briskly, twisting his loins in pain, and crying loudly, the tears rolling down his cheeks.
He certainly showed pluck while he was being birched; he never screamed, and he only once covered his bottom with his hands; but he instantly removed them, when his step mother said sternly: "Take away your hands."
When she had finished whipping him, she ordered him to go and kneel upon the seat of a chair with his knickerbockers down. He obeyed, and placed himself in position, with his red bottom exposed; then he rested his arms on the back of the chair, crying quietly, and occasionally rubbing his smarting little posteriors.
It was now Dora's turn! While her brother was being birched, she had stood trembling and weeping, with her big, gray eyes fixed in a horrified stare on his writhing bottom.
Frances told me, when all was over, that she had never before whipped the children in each other's presence. She now laid down the rod, and took a handkerchief out of her pocket; then she seized Dora's wrists and tied them together, the girl making no resistance; and in another moment she was placed in position across her stepmother's knees, where she lay quietly, though wailing with fear. Frances then turned up the girl's short skirt, rolled up her dainty little white petticoats, and tucked up her chemise; revealing the outlines of her childish figure covered only with a tightly-fitting pair of drawers, buttoned at the sides, and without a slit. Frances unfastened all the buttons, and pulled down the flap of the small garment, laying bare Dora's bottom, and also the upper part of her thighs.
I had never before seen the bottom of so young a girl - she was only a little over twelve and a half years of age - and I looked at the charming spectacle with great delight.
It was a most lovely little bottom: plump, round, and perfectly proportioned, and also well developed for the age of the girl - a delicious morsel for the rod!
But her skin! What words can I use to describe the peculiar whiteness of Dora's wonderfully beautiful skin? The ordinary terms such as: alabaster white; lily-like; milk-white; and snow white, will not do. The tint was extremely delicate, and quite different to anything I had ever seen: the tiny blue veins could be distinctly traced on the exquisitely smooth surface, and the whole skin was of such extreme fineness of texture, and so transparent, that it seemed almost to take a faint, pink tinge from the blood beneath it.
Frances glanced again at the curtains, smiling, and pointing to Dora's bottom, as if to draw my attention to its rare beauty; but I noticed that she did not touch, or feel the girl between the legs, in the way she had felt the boy. I suppose it would have been no fun to her to handle one of her own sex.
She took up the rod - it seemed almost a pity to birch such a snowdrop of a bottom - and putting her arm over the trembling culprit's loins, held, her firmly down; saying:
"Now, you naughty girl; I'll make you smart for telling me a lie!"
Dora contracted her muscles, and moaned in dread of the coming cut. The little rod hissed in the air for a moment, then fell with a swish on the delicate-skinned little bottom; both cheeks of which were instantly marked with red weals, and a number of small dots of a darker red colour. The girl plunged, threw back her head with a jerk, which tossed her long hair all over her face, and uttered a long, shrill squeal Swish! Swish! Swish! The rod, with its scarlet ribbons fluttering, rose and fell, raising more red weals on the quivering flesh of the young culprit, who screamed and writhed in agony at each cut. Frances did not, however, birch the girl with more severity than she had birched the boy; but Dora's skin was far finer than Robert's, and she felt the pain much more acutely! Swish! Swish! Swish! She squealed and wriggled, twisting her hips from side to side, and kicking her silken-clad little legs about in all directions. Swish! Swish! She turned her head round; and shaking the loose hair off her scarlet, pain-drawn, tear-bedabbled face, shrieked out piteously: "Oh! Mamma! Do do let me go!" Swish! "Oh-h! dear-Mamma!" Swish! "Yah-hah-ah-h! Oh! I-will-be -good!" Swish! "Ah-h-h! Oh! I-will never"-swish!- Oh-h!-Ah-h-h! tell-a lie-again." Swish! "Wah- bah-ah-h!" Swish! Swish! Swish!
She yelled, and struggled, and bawled, and bounced; but Frances held her down tightly, and birched her slowly; while redder and redder grew her little posteriors under the flashing switch. Swish! "Ah!-Yah -hah-ah-h-h! ! !" The last cut fell on the shrieking girl's twitching flesh; and Frances threw down the rod. Dora's delicious little bottom was now crimson, covered with weals, and speckled all over with purple clots. She had received eighteen cuts, and she lay trembling, crying, and writhing with the smarting pain.
After a moment, Frances took the girl up in her arms and placed her, with her petticoats up, and her drawers down, a kneeling position on a chair beside her brother; so that I had a good view of the two well-whipped little bottoms. Both were very red, and also much wealed, but Dora's was more marked, and sore-looking than Robert's; and her dazzlingly white little thighs contrasted strongly with the scarlet cheeks of her bottom. The boy had ceased crying, but the girl continued to weep, her sobs shaking her plump little buttocks. I compared the two small posteriors, noticing the boy's bottom though round and chubby, was not nearly so broad or so plump as the girl's. As soon as Dora's wailing had somewhat subsided, Frances lifted her off the chair, and placed her on her feet with her face turned towards the curtains. Then she again raised the girl's petticoats above her waist, and took hold of her drawers; but before pulling them up, she paused for a few moments, glancing, with a sly smile, in the direction of the curtains - she evidently wished to show me Dora's small "spot."
I had never seen such a miniature cunt! It was a delicious little thing, with wee pink lips without a vestige of down; and it looked just like a tiny slit in her white little belly. When Frances thought I had seen enough, she fastened up the girl's drawers, and untied her wrists; at the same time telling the boy to button up his knickerbockers. He did so; and then she sent them both back to the schoolroom, the girl sobbing, and she moved her legs stiffly when she walked.
To me, a "lover of the rod," the whole affair had been most pleasing; as it had been a charming spectacle of real birch discipline; and, as a matter of course, I had a stiff erection. Frances threw herself down upon the sofa, and I came from behind the curtains with my cock standing straight out, as I had already unbuttoned my trousers. Frances laughed when she saw me approaching her with rampant prick, and at once settled herself well down upon her back to receive the attack.
Without a word, I raised her petticoats, and stretched out her willing legs; then folding her in my arms, I pressed my lips to her mouth, thrust my prick into her cunt, and poked her with intense delight; making her bound, and squeak, and wriggle under me, from the first dig until the supreme moment when we both "spent" in the voluptuous spasm. Then we lay, hugging and kissing, and mutually pleased with each other.
As soon as we had arranged our disordered attire, Frances locked up the rod in the cabinet, and we sat down to rev, and also to talk over the affair. Frances began: "Well, were you pleased with the way I whipped the children?"
"Very much pleased," I replied. "You handled the rod gracefully and skilfully; and you birched the youngsters smartly, but not too severely." She smiled, pleased at my complimenting her on her skill as a "whipper." "Hasn't Dora got a delicate skin? You saw how much it got marked by the rod, and you heard how she screamed while she was being whipped, but I really did not birch at all hard. if I had, the blood would have soon come. She has not the least fortitude, and she always makes a great outcry." Then she added, laughing: "I showed you more than her pretty bottom. Did you ever see such a little 'thing' before?"
"No, never!" I answered. "Nor have I ever seen so young a girl birched. She has a lovely little bottom; and you must manage - as long as I am in town - to let me be present whenever you whip her."
"Oh, I'll always let you know when I am going to turn her : but I am pretty sure I shall not have to do so for weeks to come. The birching she has had today will keep her in order for a long time. She does not much mind a spanking, but she dreads the rod."
We now had a little chat on various subjects; then at Frances' own request, I took her across my knees, and gave her a smart little spanking: and I finished up the afternoon's amusements by poking her "en levrette," as she leant over the back of an easy-chair.
She then went up to dress for dinner; and I went up to the bedroom which was always at my service whenever I wanted to wash my hands or brush my hair.
When I returned to the drawing room, I found Miss Martin there alone. We shook hands cordially, for we had become very friendly, as I was the friend of the family, and also Mrs. Markham's "old guardian". Miss Martin was a jolly sort of woman; not exactly pretty, but she was nice to look at, as she had fine, hazel eyes, abundant brown hair, white teeth, and a plump, shapely figure; she was also very tastefully dressed. She sat down in an easy chair, leaning back in an unconstrained position, and as her skirt was a little raised, I could see her trim ankles, cased in brown silk stockings, and her neat feet in high-heeled shoes.
She was a good talker, and had travelled a good deal on the Continent with her former employers; but I had an idea that she had not always been a governess. We conversed on sundry topics for a short time, and then we spoke about the children. Miss Martin knew that they had both been whipped that afternoon; but she did not know that I was cognisant of the fact, and of course she had not the faintest suspicion that I had been present at the punishment; nor had she any idea that I was in the habit of poking Mrs. Markham.
She informed me that they were both bright, clever children, but rather difficult to manage. Then I asked, in a most innocent manner: "Do you approve of corporal punishment for children?"
"I do most certainly," she replied without the least hesitation. "For girls as well as boys?" I queried.
"Yes. Girls should be whipped whenever they are naughty. They are often more troublesome than boys. I mean little boys. I have no experience with boys over ten years of age.
"Dear me!" I said in affected surprise, "I did not think that girls were ever subjected to corporal punishment nowadays."
Miss Martin smiled. "Oh yes, they are in some schools, and also in some families," she remarked.
It was a curious subject for us to discuss, but as she did not seem to be at all diffident, I thought I would ask a few more question"
"What, in your opinion, is the best way of punishing a naughty girl?"
"I think there is no better way of punishing a naughty girl than to give her a good whipping with a birch rod in the old-fashioned way," she replied in the coolest manner. I had some difficulty in preventing myself laughing at the at way in which the governess had spoken. Then I said: I suppose you have had a great deal of experience?"
"Yes," she replied. "I have been a family governess for seven years, and during that period, I have used the rod whenever my employers would allow me to do so. But some Ladies I have lived with would not permit me to whip their children; nor would they whip the children themselves."
The subject then dropped; and in a few moments Frances tripped into the room, smiling and fresh, as well as faultlessly dressed, and we went in to dinner, which was a good one, as usual.
At dessert, rather to my surprise, the children came into room as had always been their custom, whenever I dined with their stepmother.
The boy appeared to be in his usual spirits; but the girl was a little pale and depressed. They both had become very friendly with me, and I often brought them boxes of sweets: they now sat down, one on each side of me, and I noticed that the girl seated herself very carefully on the edge of her chair. No doubt her poor little bottom was still very tender. I filled their plates with fruit, and began to talk to them; but Dora was not at all in her usual form. So just out of mischief, and to hear what they would say, I said: "Have you been good children today?"
Dora coloured, and cast down her eyes in silence. Frances, and Miss Martin smiled. But Robert blurted out in childlike innocence: "No; we have not been good. We have been naughty; and Mamma gave us both a whipping. I did not scream, but Dora did."
Dora blushed very red; her modesty was offended at my being told that she had been whipped. Turning to her brother, she exclaimed angrily: "You horrid boy! You may tell people that you have been whipped, if you like; but you have no business to say anything about me." She then ran out of the room, with flashing eyes and flaming cheeks.
The boy looked astonished, and we all laughed; the governess saying: "Robert, you should never tell tales out of school."
He was soon sent to join his sister; then the ladies and myself went into the drawing-room, where we passed a couple of hours pleasantly with music and conversation. Then I went home to my chambers, and after I had smoked a cigar, and drunk a glass of whisky and water, I retired to my virtuous couch, thoroughly well pleased with my day's amusements.
I stayed in town for three more weeks, visiting Frances frequently; but I never had the pleasure of seeing Dora's pretty little bottom; as ever since the day she had been birched in company with her brother, she had behaved so well, that her stepmother never had reason to turn her up. On leaving London I went to Scotland, where I remained for upwards of a month grouse-shooting with various friends; and on my return to England, I went to Oakhurst, where I settled down for the winter, amusing myself in the usual way; hunting, shooting, dining out, and giving dinner parties in return. Whenever I felt inclined for an afternoon poke, I could always get hold of Mary, the pretty parlourmaid: all I had to do was to give her a wink, then she would slip quietly up to my bedroom, and wait there till I came.
I also used often to run up to town for a couple of days to see Frances. And so the time went on.