“I d… d… don’t want to be a g… g… girl!”
It was his one protest, being followed by a howl and then a gasp as simultaneously our stepmother’s hand smacked in again on his out-rearing bottom and his stiff pego nestled in my warm hand. Ah, the ineffable thrill of holding it! I had little time for my thoughts, however, for I was constantly being instructed, and indeed taught.
“Your other hand under his chin. Hold it up, Clara. As for you, Roberta, it is not what you want, my girl, but what you are going to get. Some things will be quite nice for you provided you obey me.” Smack! Smack! Smack! “Is he throbbing well, Clara?”
“Oh, yes!” I gasped, for indeed he was, all the veins pulsing warmly to my skin and the knob shiny and emergent. My other palm formed a rest for his chin and held his gaze straight forward. With each SMACK! his hips of course jerked forward and thus the full length of his pego made a thrilling journey in between my ringing fingers.
I expected him to be smacked harder-perhaps naughtily I wished it so-but then of a sudden our stepmother ceased, opened a drawer while I held him still, and laid a large white kerchief on the bed beneath his prick.
“Milk him, Clara. He will not move. Work your fingers back and forth until he comes and Bertha will then take charge of him again.”
“Gooooo!” choked he, for no sooner had she spoken than I was eager to obey. That he was naughty-though I knew not in what way, and it did not matter-I convinced myself. It is easy so to do when one has experienced the overlording of the male. Many times in the past Robert had teased me and played awful jokes on me and now I was getting my own back. Stepmama moved away and watched, no doubt approvingly, for I had wilted not. My teeth set a little as I spurred him on and even, to her delight, murmured the words, “Come on, come on,” as though impatiently.
Naturally I felt his weapon throbbing all the more and tightened my grasp beneath his chin. How glorious it is to so subdue the male! How weak he looks when in a woman’s hands! His jaw sagged, impressing its weight upon my hand, and a mad, breathless sound came from his throat while his hips jerked the faster to my titillations. Then, taking two steps forward, our stepmother gave him two hard smacks indeed and with that he let out a cry and a helpless gasp, the engine of his tool seeming to expand in girth in my grasp as a long cannonade of sperm leapt from his knob, arced in the air and spattered down upon the waiting handkerchief, there to be joined by another and another while I-hotly observing his virility-madly wished it up within my quim. Again and again he spouted, his buttocks tightening visibly, my fingers being frothed with his spendings and his cock like a greasy pole.
“Feee-oooh!” he moaned and then the last spurt came and after it a dribbling as the thick drops fell.
“Leave him!” my stepmother commanded, and I learned again that after emission the male is not to be coddled except in special circumstances but is to understand that his duty is performed and that the attendant female or females have more important matters to attend to than his momentary satisfactions. Handing me then another kerchief, my stepmother saw to the wiping of my hands, which were pleasantly warm and sticky from his effusion. Robert remained bent over, not having been told to do other, though his legs trembled a little in the aftermath.
“Come, darling, shall we take some wine?” I was asked and thus we departed as smoothly as we had come. The door closing, my stepmother seized me and hugged me on the landing. “You liked it, Clara? You did?”
“Oh yes,” I responded hotly, and quite truthfully.
“You see, then, you have nothing to fear. They are all alike. In their hearts they adore to be subdued by us and some would give all the world to be, for it releases responsibility for their actions on to our shoulders and permits them often to do what is otherwise forbidden. Should they be punished then it is their joy to be so. Do you remember what I said to you about the little boy and the larder door?”
“Yes!” I responded gleefully and could scarce contain my excitement for I was now more fully converted than ever to her cause.
Putting her arm around me as we then went along to her room, my stepmother explained: “The naughty boy reaches for a cake or biscuit, although he has not asked if he might have it. Being apprehended by his Mama or perhaps his elder sister, he receives a smack on his bottom. Although it stings, he feels certain secret pleasure in the fleeting pain which serves to stir his cock a little. So he resolves to be naughty again, although he may not fully recognise the reasons for his actions. He wants to be smacked, you see, and his cocky to get hard, for he wishes it to be seen and taken hold of. Then he will be even naughtier and so progresses until his Mama or sister takes him more in hand, just as you have done with Robert.”
“I could not have done it on my own, though,” I confessed.
“What is to that? It will come in time and sooner than you think, Clara. Each step you take imbues more confidence in you. In time there will be no male whom you will be afraid to take in hand.”
“But as to girls…,” I began, for after her treatment of Sarah I was a little lost and had not got the jigsaw all together, as it were.
From her cabinet my stepmother took a flask of wine and poured two glasses. “As to girls, Clara, there are generally three sorts. Those like Clarissa who know their destiny and put themselves in due course to the cock while having the male believe that affairs are quite the other way around. Of course, it may take a while for they do not all have mentors such as myself. As matters progress, however, and as they come to a clearer understanding of their role, so they take the male or males in hand and reverse the quite unnatural order of things. Hence they are able to take charge of their domains. One must divine by instinct-such as you will slowly gather-whether a girl is such or whether she needs some sterner treatment. In Sarah’s case the latter obtains. She little knows that pride is one of her best possessions. It must be broken in order to make it whole again and stronger.”
I brooded on this a while as we drank and then she continued: “So you see, Clara, there are those who will themselves to destiny and others who are wilful and must be guided to it, however hard the path may seem. As to the third category I must confess to you that some females are born to be submissives. So be it, for they make excellent slaves and willing bedmates. The shy ones are quite delicious and ever wish themselves to be seduced. Now that you have had Robert’s prick in your hand and felt him come, which do you prefer-the male organ or the female tongue?”
“I like both,” I responded unthinkingly, and this pleased her.
“So it should be, my love. Such inclinations become a woman, for she then may take her pleasures as she will with either sex. What a delight it will be for me to tongue your cunny while you have a cock up your bottom.”
I rolled my eyes and could not imagine such a pleasure, though it was soon to be. Already I could feel the piston urging in me and longed for it as I did the agile lapping of her tongue.
“Shall I have to tie you?” she asked teasingly. Love showed as strongly in her eyes as ever I knew.
I laughed and felt quite choked up with excitement. “No, but you may smack me first for I shall feel very naughty,” said I.
“Once his cock is up you, you will feel more than that,” she replied solemnly and bore me back upon the bed. Our lips met in the hottest of kisses. Our tongues swam together. I parted my legs as her hand crept up beneath my skirt.
I knew well enough whose prick she meant.
CHAPTER NINE
Sarah was immured in her room when Papa returned. Robert was put to work in the scullery in cleaning all our shoes-a chore to which he gave himself devotedly. I had looked in on him once or twice and watched him in his kneeling and polishing. Raising his eyes to mine, he pleaded dumbly with me but I shook my head, though not unkindly. I believe he saw a promise in my gaze for a certain fleeting hope came over his features which he dutifully did his best to disguise. In turning away from him, I drew up my skirts a little, for I sensed that he liked my legs and the thought even then struck me that there might one day be a certain jealousy of possessiveness between Sarah and I. I took it then as a strong presentiment, though it was not in fact to be. As the choices became wider, so we ceased to differentiate, though would have protected our own from all.