“Is she proving difficult?” she asked in a deliberately naive tone, and shook her head at me as if to say, “You naughty boy!” She was naked to her stockings, shoes.
“Extremely, darling. Three strokes of the cane, please. Dearest, stand aside.”
“Oh God, no, no! I'll do it-honestly I will!”
“Too late, my dear. Help me hold her!” This to me, of course. I ringed her wildly-twisting waist and clamped her arms therewith.
Swoo-isssh! It streaked across that lustrous orb and brought a high-pitched scream from the dear girl whose bottom waggled madly, legs awry, a pink stripe left upon her bulbing globe.
“Doh-on't!” she screeched.
“Another, Adelaide. Go on!” said Caroline who had her hands cupped underneath the dangling tits of Myrtle and, I had no doubt, was teasing up her nipples as she did.
“No-no! I'll let him! Nar-haaar! oooh!”
“Wait, Adelaide! I wish to hear her say it and repent her sins. What precisely will you let him do?”
“I'll… I'll…I'll let him…!”
“Let him what?” And this from Adelaide. Then swoooosh! The cane bit bitterly once more and laid a triple line across the hot, rotating bum of Myrtle whose warm tears fell on her forearms as she sobbed.
“Let him put it up mee-eee-eeee!”
“I believe she will Adelaide. We will take her word on it-I shall not hold her more. Stand ready with the cane, though if…
“Of course. Come, Myrtle, let us have a better posture-legs apart and back dipped well, your head and shoulders down into the seat.”
“I c… c… can't keep still!”
“His cock is going up your bottom, dear, and that will still you soon enough. Legs straight! Come-ankles more apart!”
“Woh-oh!”
I had her hips again, was at postillion, and very gently parted her seared cheeks, at which she wilted gasped, and made a sobbing sound, but wriggled not too wildly as I probed her ring and brought it to yawn a little around my knob.
“Yes, darling, yes-now push it smoothly in,” said Caroline, then took the cane from Adelaide and slid it under Myrtle's chin and by gentle pressure brought her face to rise and kept it there, the cane maintained in a straight line, and Myrtle forced to gaze into the wall. It is, as we are wont to call it, the “full training posture,” when a female has proved fractious. She who would hide her face must have it raised for all to see. Like all, she spluttered, made to force her head down once again, but was told sharply “no!” by Adelaide, the two then standing on each side of her.
“Goo-oooh!” choked Myrtle. Inch by inch I slid it slowly up and felt her clench, but not so tightly as before.
“Hold it so. Are you half in?” asked Caroline. I nodded blearily and saw her smile.
“Then keep it so a moment. Let her take the feel of it. No, Myrtle, keep your head up, you bad girl! Hold her hair, Adelaide. 'Twill keep her still.”
“Oh-woh! Oh-woh!” from Myrtle all the time. Her passage eased. Two inches more. Another “whooo!” from her. Good heavens, she was tight! The backs of her thighs came warm against my own. I felt the ridging of her stocking tops, then with a grunt I lodged it to the full and had my balls a-hanging underneath her pouch.
“Nah-hooo!” she squealed, but then was quiet again. I let her feel it throb and stirred it gently. “P… p… please!” she quavered.-“Shush!” said Caroline and drew the cane from underneath her chin while my sister loosed her hair and let it fall. A wobbling cry from Myrtle and she let her head sink down, but no one said her nay to that.
“We shall see to Norma now,” said Caroline. They drifted out and left the darling prey to me, my cock buried in her bottom and her bulbing cheeks hot into me. Hearing the door close then, she whimpered, “Please! don't want to!”
“Yes, you do,” I said. I felt her bottom stir against my loins. At the first entry, one should always “still” the girl. I have seen and heard it thus a score of times. The throbbing of the buried cock communicates despite their fears. When the loins are still, there is a certain comforting. I passed my hand beneath her silken belly, felt her quim. She jittered at my touch and moaned. I found her button perky to my touch, then drew my prick half out and held it there.
“Please take it out!” It was a token sob. I did not answer her but kept her at the stance, then eased it up again and twirled my finger underneath her cunt to make her wriggle, as she did. “It… is… hurting… me,” she whimpered. -“It is not,” I said in a flat tone and began at last to piston her, which is to say that the penis moves at first in short, slow jabs, then lengthens up its stretch and pace until the girl receives the whole and throbbing length of it.
“Ooooh-whooo!” Her tone was not so doleful then. I bent upon her, cupped her swollen titties, let them dangle on my palms, and felt the itching of her nipples to my skin.
“Simply be still,” I panted, “very still!”
She gurgled, panted, but obeyed. The feeling of it was upon her then, I knew, her bottom took my ramming prick; our coarser breathings flowed in unison.
“Straighten your legs and push your bottom out-good girl!”
“Mmmm… mmmm!” A broken hum from her. Her toes turned in, her knees were stiff, as often is the case at first. Her bottom slap-smacked to my belly at each stroke, tits wobbling on my palms. A girl need not be brought to come by fingering at first. Obedience is the first lesson here, depending much upon her temperament. If she proves dogged, mulish, then she may be corked a dozen times before her cunny is allowed to cream a cock. Contrariwise, she may be cunny-fucked the first time she is birched. “It depends on the preliminaries,” as Caroline has often said, by which she means caresses, fingerings, if the girl is sometimes limpid to the touch or lets her tongue peep out-a certain sign that she is ready to be mounted twixt her thighs.
“In a moment… in a moment… haaar!” I uttered brokenly. I felt her anus clench around my root and then ejected my first jet of come deep up her bottom, held her hot sleek cheeks tight into me and spouted on and on, eyes dimming with delight as she received my liquid offerings and moaned to feel me splashing warm in her, the vital throbbing that obtains with joy when two are closely-coupled, as we were.
“Oh fond delight-she has been spermed at last!”
The voice of Caroline. She had descended quietly, entered on tiptoe and embraced me as I drew the steaming plug from out of Myrtle's bottomhole and left a snail's-trail of desire to trickle down her shimmering thighs.
“Come, Myrtle, we will now upon the bed with Norma-that is how it is to be,” murmured my love and drew her up. Myrtle's long legs tottered and she looked quite dazed. With pleasure, I hoped. Her footsteps dragged, but she did not resist. Was I to follow? Caroline took note of my expression, shook her head, arm coiled around the slender waist of Myrtle-led her out. The air stirred with her whisperings, the mumbled, fractured words that came from our new convert, the slurrings of their feet upon the stairs.
I was alone again. I had been used, perhaps, as much as Myrtle, though with less discomfort for my sins.
“Yes-I feel better now,” were Myrtle's last words that I heard that night. They kept her twixt them in the bed-I leading Norma to another room where her chubby bottom hole came up to my cock more eagerly than had once done Myrtle's. I corked her twice. She giggled, sighed, tucked in me, and slept, her bottom sticky with my sperm.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“A pity you could not nest in them, Harry. I would like to see her done that way; she has a pretty bush,” said Adelaide reflectively. We had kept the sisters for three days-then they were bidden home again by messenger. We left them at their gate. It seemed the proper thing to do. Their shadows chased each other's as they ran along the drive, then Norma turned and waved; Myrtle did not. Their cunnies still were virgin. We had followed orders on that point.