AN AFTERNOON CALL
We remained motionless like that for a few moments, our lips glued together, our bodies held close to each other. Then Muriel said, "Now I'd better ring for Juliette and towels and water."
We got up and she pressed the bell. Juliette appeared. It was too late now for any modesty on my part. Juliette had seen all I had to show her, so what was the use of pretence. "Hot water, towels, and soap, Juliette," said her mistress. The maid turned to go. "Oh, yes, and some special cream for the poor bottom," she added with a smile.
Juliette disappeared and her mistress turned to me and said, "Let's look at the poor little bottie. Turn round, is it much cut up? Look for yourself." She led me to a mirror fixed down on the wall. I looked over my shoulder. Certainly my poor bottom showed distinct marks of the birch. The skin had not been actually cut, but there were red and violet marks interlaced criss-cross allover it. Also, it was very tender to the touch.
"Poor boy, what a shame," said Muriel. "Still, it will do him good and teach him not to be naughty again."
I smiled a little ruefully. But she flung her arms round my neck and said, "Oh, I love you, darling, every bit of you, and I love your poor dear bottom most of all."
Juliette entered at this moment with a tray on which were a sponge, a silver rose-bowl, some soap and towels, and a pot of cream.
She put them on the table and her mistress turned to me.
"Juliette will wash you," she said. Juliette approached me.
"Will you stand here, sir, please," she said, pointing near the table. I did so. She took John Thomas in one hand and held the bowl in the other. Then she plunged him into the water, gently drawing the foreskin back while she gently rubbed the glans with her fingers. Then she put the bowl down and, taking the soap, soaped him well and sponged him thoroughly, washing all the bush and between my legs. Then she took the towel and thoroughly dried all the parts. "Turn round, please." I turned round. She lifted my shirt and performed a similar service to my bottom. Finally she took some of the cream and rubbed it on the tender places. A delicious cool feeling came over me and all the smarting disappeared. She then raised my trousers, buttoned them, and turned to her mistress.
"Madame is ready?"
"One moment, Juliette," said the latter. "Just now you accused Mr. Prendergast of taking liberties with you and you punished him for it."
"Yes, madame," said Juliette.
"What was it you said he did?"
"He kissed me and felt my breast and tried to feel my pussy."
"Quite so. Now Mr. Prendergast did not deny that but he said something in reply. What was it?" Juliette turned pale.
"Answer me." Still no reply. Muriel turned to me. "What was it you said?" she asked.
"Oh, it doesn't matter," I said, for now the pain of the whipping had passed away I did not feel revengeful. "Never mind what I said."
"But it does matter and I do mind. If I'm not mistaken you said she did as much to you. Am I right?"
I looked at Juliette. She gave me a frightened look.
"Muriel, dear," I said, "never mind that, forget it."
"Oh, I'll forget it in due time," she answered. "Now,
Juliette, answer me. What did you do? You know you had better speak the truth ... When Mr. Prendergast kissed you, did you kiss him back?"
"Yes," in a whisper.
"Did you do anything else?"
Juliette glanced at me. "I just patted his leg and said he was a naughty boy."
"Oh, and what part of his trouser leg did you pat? Show me?" Juliette timidly patted me again. "I thought so," said Muriel sternly. "I guessed as much. So you complained to me that Mr. Prendergast kissed you and tried to feel your pussy, though you at the same time kissed him and tried to feel what he had. Well, you have punished him for his rudeness. Isn't it only fair that you should be punished too?"
I interposed. "No, Muriel, it was my fault, I began it."
"I'm glad you realise that, Cecil, it shows that your whipping did you some good. But I must be the judge of what is proper behaviour in my servants. There was no need for her to imitate you. Now Juliette, don't you think as Mr. Prendergast has been punished, it is only fair that you should be so too? Eh?"
"Yes, madame," said the poor girl.
"You see you have only yourself to blame," went on Muriel. "If you had not told me what Mr. Prendergast had done, I should have known nothing about it and you would have escaped. Now get ready."
"What, before Mr. Prendergast?" stammered Juliette.
"Of course, he was punished in front of you, in fact by you, so it's only fair that he should have a share in your punishment."
The tears rose to Juliette's eyes as she began to undo her belt. The skirt slipped off to the floor. The petticoat followed it. She stepped out of them and stood in her chemise and drawers with downcast and blushing cheeks.
Muriel went to the case and took out a fresh birch.
"Go to the couch. Kneel down." Juliette started and then rushed to me and, flinging herself at my feet, sobbed out, "Oh, sir, I'm so sorry I told on you. Don't let her whip me. I'm sorry I whipped you."
I felt awkward. I was not naturally cruel and I did not bear the girl any grudge. At the same time I felt a keen desire to see her naked bottom and to see her wriggle under the birch. I lifted her up and said I would do my best to persuade her mistress.
The latter was growing impatient. I went to her and begged her to let the girl off lightly. She laughed and said, "All right, I'll stop when you tell me to."
I then led Juliette, still weeping, to the couch. She knelt on the edge of it and buried her face in the cushions.
"Lift up your chemise and open your drawers," ordered her mistress. She did as she was told, disclosing two white globes of which no lady need have been ashamed. A dark shadow just between them gave promise of a beautiful dark forest in front. As she was kneeling on the couch and not on the floor as I was, her bottom was raised higher than her head and the skin stretched quite tight.
"Now," said her mistress, "I'll teach you to tell tales of my guests when you yourself are equally guilty," and whish whish-whish came the birch on the plump cheeks. Juliette sobbed and cried and nervously contracted her bottom to meet the strokes. "There, there, there, and there," went on her mistress, "will you kiss visitors in my hall again, and try and pat their privates? Will you, will you?" The blows descended in quick succession, now on one cheek, now on the other.
Juliette bounded up and down, but did not, as I did, kick about. She knew better. At last two cuts more vigorous than the others and rather lower down were too much for her and in desperation she had to move her legs.
"Ah," said Muriel exultantly, and quick as lightning she rained a shower of blows in between the thighs, reaching with the ends of the twigs the pouting lips of the pussy that Juliette's struggles disclosed.
Juliette shrieked and, letting her body collapse, tried to cover her poor bottom with her hands.
Muriel looked at me. Till then, for the life of me, I could not have interposed to stop the whipping, but now I managed to stammer, "That will do," and Muriel dropped the birch and fell into my arms.
John Thomas had grown greatly excited by the scene, and taking no thought of Juliette, who lay moaning and twisting on the couch, I pushed Muriel on her back beside her and mounted her. Our course was quicker than might have been expected, seeing that I had already done my duty twice that afternoon. I suppose the excitement of seeing Juliette birched and the heating effect of being birched myself had a great deal to do with it. Anyhow, Muriel and I both swam together in a perfect sea of bliss before many moments had passed. Juliette, perceiving that her whipping was over and that other things were happening, sat up beside us and began to dry her eyes with her chemise.
Her mistress, noticing this, said, "Well, I'm afraid you can't feel Mr. Prendergast's affair now, Juliette, it's too busy; but he can feel your pussy quite well," and she took my hand and pushed it towards Juliette's thighs.
The latter did not dare to resist and I soon found the secret grotto I wanted, and, pushing my fingers well in, gave her some slight gratification in return for her whipping. When we had finished and had got up, Muriel said, "You will have to wash Mr. Prendergast again."
"May I do it my own way?" said Juliette.
"If you like," said her mistress, "but I don't expect you'll get any good from it." To my surprise Juliette knelt down before me and began licking and sucking my limp weapon, but though John Thomas wept a little, I had done too much that afternoon to be able to give any real performance, and after a while she gave it up as a bad job and began to dress herself.
Muriel laughed and I felt a little ashamed, but I promised myself that before long Juliette should have a taste of my quality in more senses than one.
"Come again soon," said Muriel, as she kissed me goodbye most lovingly, and I promised I would without fail. As Juliette was showing me out, I said, "Well, if I kiss you now, will you tell your mistress?"
Her only answer was to put up her lips, and when my lips met hers she pushed her tongue right in my mouth while her hand clutched my old man convulsively.
"You tell her l've kissed you," she murmured, "and then she will make you whip me yourself. I'd love to be whipped by you. I'd suck and kiss you while you were doing it till you dropped the birch with faintness."
Before I could reply she had opened the door and I found myself in the street.