I was then fixed with a piercing glance from our host as if in sorrow that I had not spoken. I felt a lack in me that I had not.
“The fact is, dear fellow,” he began, and then appeared quite ludicrously to become aware of the presence of the ladies for the first time and asked if we might be excused. At that, Lady Somner rose and drew Adelaide up with her, saying it was natural that we wished to talk alone and that they would show Adelaide to her room and make her acquainted with the house. I thought my sister then to throw me a most appealing glance, shifted uneasily, rose at their exit and then sat down again to have my glass refilled. There was to be more solemn talk of marriage now, I thought.
“Harry, it is said that all females are, like cats, grey in the dark, but I have never found either of the species so,” Lord Somner began and then went on, “The truth of the matter is that there are the willing and unwilling, the sleek of figure and the plump. There are women whose bottoms are like well-filled balloons and whose breasts are heavy- needing the support of stays and such. Such are invariably well-furred between their thighs and wriggle to the merest touch. There are-contrariwise-the younger slimmer girls, such as your sister, such as Caroline. Their bottoms are like polished apples and their breasts are pumpkins, swollen up with promise. Their nests are often tighter and their curls more crisp. It is delightful to feel them when they come fresh from a bath, their cunny-hairs brushed up and dried, but the lips beneath a little moist with joy. Their mouths are fresher, though at times more shy. When such, they must be conquered, must they not?”
I swallowed some wine and wiped my mouth. I felt it best not to reply. I had not expected such and knew not what to say.
“You agree, dear chap? Well-excellent! It shows advancement for your age. Now, as to our little games, I will tell you this. The ladies-and indeed the girls whom they have helped to nurture-fancy themselves as playing the dominant Mistress over us sometimes. This I do not mind, odd as it may seem to you. It brings the pecker up. Yet the secret of the little matter is that we are the Masters all the time, and well they know it! In reality the games are a disguise to nourish and bring on desire where otherwise it might prove shy. You follow me?”
“Sir? I, yes…I believe I do.” I watched him rise and pace around the room.
“Your dear sister, now. She has committed some small peccadillo, has she not? I take my lady's word upon the point. Maybe she did it to attract attention to herself. In any event, she has to be inducted here as all young ladies are who stay beneath our roof. The compensations are such, however, that she will not refuse, I know. I understand she sports well. Is that so?”
I gulped; I blushed, and choked out simply, “Sir…?”
“You have no need to answer me, dear boy. A gentleman does not speak directly on such points as concern those close or dear to him. One does not speak of females, young or more mature, as chattels-they are far too precious, are they not? But women are sly, dear boy: they weigh the pros and cons. They squeal oftimes, may even struggle. Do not be dismayed at that; do not withdraw the lordly prick, but watch their eyes. They always signal the true pleasure they obtain. I may attend upon your sister now?”
“But, sir, I…”
“At the last, dear Harry, watch her eyes. The caning of her bottom will be light, I promise you.”
“But if it should pain her overmuch…”
“Dear Harry, one has always that in mind. A young girl's bottom possesses richer layers than that of the male. There is a great art to the application of the cane, the birch, the strap-as you will learn. The object is to sting, to spur, to bring them on. How happily you will observe her pleasure afterwards!”
He moved then to the door. I could not help but follow. How bizarre it seemed, and yet I followed up. The silk wall-coverings were blue and gave a soft tone to the air, the banisters high-polished and the carpets thick. Moving along the landing we encountered Lady Somner who appeared from a bedroom wherein I heard some fretful though quiet sounds from Adelaide.
“All is prepared, Arnold. The girls are ready. Harry- come with me. Into our camera obscura, as I call it, though it is not really so, but gives the finest view.”
I was a mannikin, I felt. My hand was taken like a child's. While her husband advanced upon the bedroom where Adelaide and Caroline were, I was led into a small adjoining room wherein were chairs, an ottoman, wine bottles, glasses on a rosewood stand. The door closed.
“You will see all from here, Harry. Have no dismay upon the matter, for your sister will enjoy. Kneel up the ottoman. Now-look!”
So saying, Lady Somner pressed a small black button in the wall and drew quite noiselessly to one side a long panel so artfully contrived that it split the wall-covering without a crease and permitted a view into the bedroom, the gap being but an inch in width, but quite enough to show a panoramic view. There within I saw a double bed, the end of which faced the wall. Upon it, covering her face, sat Adelaide, stripped to her gartered stockings and her little boots. Beside her, with an arm around her waist was Caroline who looked equally bewitching in a small black guepiere, or waist corset, above the lace of which her nipples peeped. As usual, she wore no drawers and, her legs being slightly apart, I saw her muff. Her stockings, too, were black and gartered tight. Instead of boots she wore small mules whose toes turned up like Turkish ones. In her left hand she held a cane that lay across my sister's thighs. At the entry of her Papa, she smiled and moved the cane like a bow across a violin. As to Adelaide, she covered up her face.
“She has promised to be good, Papa.”
“Oh, Caroline, I…”
“Why, darling, shush! You promised and you know you did. Stand up and show Papa your bottom. Turn around!”
“No! Oh!”
How ruthless was my love in making her obey! Swift as a tigress so she hauled up Adelaide and spun her round to show her polished globe. In the same moment, Lady Somner kneeled beside me on the ottoman and ran her hand round my trouser front.
“Be not dismayed, Harry. Her bottom was indulged while you were still in innocence,” she murmured. Before I could reply, she turned my face to hers and sleeked her tongue within my mouth while fingering my buttons at the front and drawing out my tool into her hand. “She was exercised before, Harry, as she is about to be. You know it well, I think, so do not make a sound.”
With that, I could not help myself and sucked upon her tongue. My prick was iron-hard in a trice. I thought of Adelaide returning from her ridings in the past and going flushed into the bath, sperm floating on the water from her rosy hole, as no doubt it did from Bertha's, too.
In such moments I am weak-becoming sightless in excitement. In those seconds my entire vision was filled by the perfumed blur of Lady Somner's face, her heavy-lidded eyes, the silken lashes that tickled to my cheeks, the mountainous tits that sought the lewd caressing of my palm, and which they now received.
“Neee-yeeek!” I heard from Adelaide and tried to tear my mouth away from the engaging one. How perfectly I fell into the trap, so doing, for Lady Somner was then able to upbraid me for my apparent eagerness to watch my sister being caned.
“No, Harry dear, not yet. Wait till her bottom's striped a little more,” she breathed, thus as it were admonishing me for the apparent impatience of my lewd desires while in my ears also sounded an ensuing cry of “thoooo-wah!” from my sister, for whom I feared. Not until another quavering screech rent the air was I permitted to take my view again, whereat the door to our secret room opened and Caroline slid in. I did not turn to look at her, however, for my eyes were utterly absorbed upon the bedroom scene.
Adelaide, her thighs pressed to the rolled side of the bed, her legs apart, was bowed right down, face cupped within her palms and bottom rearing up, its marble whiteness streaked with pink where the fierce cane-as I then thought of it-had seared. Behind her, slightly to one side, stood Lord Somner, cane in hand, his trousers bulging at the front. Even as I watched he skimmed her wriggling bottom once again-and note, dear reader, I say skimmed, for thus it was. The motion of the punitive instrument (though I observed it not finely and had it shown to me afterwards) was that of sleeking across the polished hemispheres rather than striking deep into the sensuously-wriggling orb they formed.