Bertha absented herself, her duty done.
“What… what will happen?” I quavered, for all was so strange that I could not take account of it.
“That you will see for yourself, my pet, if you are minded to. I will have discipline, I will!” she said abruptly and left me then to my own devices which caused me to ever be glancing at the mantelpiece clock. No sound was to be heard from above save once a slight scraping sound as if the chairlegs had moved. I sucked my thumb and waited, being aware that it was a babyish thing to do, but I needed some comforting.
Precisely as the half hour passed, so my stepmother reappeared and extended her hand to me. Her calmness was in counterpoint to my own excitement.
“Come, then,” she murmured. I drew back. “You do not want to?” she laughed. “Very well. It is perhaps for the best. I will tell you all that happened.” She ascended slowly and many sounds then came to me. The door to the bedroom was re-opened and Sarah pushed along the hallway. I heard the sound of a smack and her muffled squeal. All was over sooner than I thought for then I was in company again with my stepmother who lit a Turkish cigarette and held a look of perfect victory on her face.
“To think that she might have done that voluntarily,” she sighed.
“Oh, what?” I could not help but exclaim.
“Have you not guessed? I am sure you have, but want me to describe it to you. Very well. In the end she sank down upon your Papa’s legs. Her own, being held wider than his, she settled her bottom nicely upon his thighs and so could not help-after the straining of her legs-from bringing her tummy in contact with his prick. Her head must have sunk forward then on to his shoulder, for so I found them, quivering together yet otherwise still as statues. He had come all up her belly, naturally,” she concluded and, throwing her head back, expelled a blue wisp of smoke.
“Wh… what did she say?” I asked stupidly.
“She must be pleasured herself, dear. That is requisite. And in particular while the memory of his throbbing, spouting organ is most vividly in her mind. Will you do it, Clara?” So asking she drew out of her bodice a long, pointed feather at which I stared. “You twirl it all around her spot. She will soon come. It is best that I let her. You hesitate, Clara. If you do not, I shall put you upon him in turn.”
“She… she… she will not let me, though,” I stammered.
“Hah! Do you imagine I have left her wandering about? She is well secured and legs apart. Her poor cunny must be longing for fulfilment, even though she would deny it. Pleasure her, Clara. Bring her on!”
“Yes!” The sudden exclamation leapt from me. It would be cruel to Sarah otherwise, as I told myself, and so took the feather and hastened to my task. In her room she lay bound upon her bed, naked as she had been and I saw a splash of come upon one stocking top. Thankfully she was gagged still. Her eyes literally spat at me and her straddled legs, which so revealed the hairy pouting of her quim, strained at the ropes, yet I knew I dare not hesitate. Seeing the feather, she made the most agitated movements of her head, then arched her back as I sat beside her and carefully twiddled the feather tip about her spot. How moist she was and the lips of her quim gleaming’ Muffled shrieks came from her as the feather swept about her darling place-for indeed I thought of it so and wished devoutly that it had been watered for her.
The bedsprings jolted and sang with every stroke, her thighs quivering madly and her bottom bouncing. The breath hissed hotly through her nostrils. I dearly wished her then not to be gagged, but as so often it was as if our stepmama had read my thoughts, for upon the instant she swept within and sat upon the other side of Sarah, motioning me to stop. When I did, Sarah’s eyes closed, opened, and then closed again. Her belly rippled. She had come and I knew it.
“Darling, I am going to remove your gag now,” our stepmother told her, brushing strands of hair away from Sarah’s moist forehead. “Listen carefully my sweet, for if you scream or utter any untoward sounds, I shall have you put again upon him, though this time in a firmer manner. Mark my words well, for I mean it. Was he not naughty to let himself be bound and gagged for it? Well?”
Opening her eyes, Sarah stared straight up at her, and I saw the wicked skill of our stepmother’s words.
“Nod if you agree, Sarah,” was said gently opposite me. “He was naughty, was he not-hard his cock at the thought of you.”
Sarah nodded. Reaching carefully under her head, our stepmother then slowly loosed the gag, though pausing halfway to put her finger to her lips exactly as though all three of us were at simple play. The cloth being drawn aside, Sarah uttered a shuddering sigh. Her head went limp and she rolled her face away from Stepmama who however took her chin and brought their noses to touch.
“D… d… don’t want the feather!” Sarah moaned.
“Of course you don’t. You are not a bad girl, are you? Are you not my treasure? Give me your lips, your tongue now. Be good, be good.”
“Glug!” sounded from Sarah but as her lips were submerged so her shoulders relaxed and with infinite tenderness I began to stroke her wet pussy with my fingertips and felt her ardent quivering. Little sobbing cries came from her which echoed into the mouth whose scented lips were splurged upon her own. Receiving a blind gesture from my stepmother who waggled her hand at me, I quickened my motions and with devious changes of hand managed to loose Sarah’s ankle bonds, as I thought was requisite. At that she rolled upon her hip and clung to our stepmother so that my hand was removed from her quim but in a second was replaced by the rubbing, stockinged knee of her tormenter who quickly hoisted her skirt for the purpose.
A soft, rounded knee is delicious against the quim, as well I know, and Sarah came again quickly, clawing at our stepmother’s shoulders while their mouths remained enmeshed. Then, as if she knew not where she was, she flung herself of a sudden on her back and stared blindly at the ceiling, her legs straightening and the dried sheen of Papa’s sperm showing plainly on her belly.
“Naughty… he was naughty,” she murmured, speaking as though to herself.
“Are they all not so, Sarah? Have I not tried to teach you? Will you not take example from Clarissa? She is Mistress now of her guardian’s ways. Cease to deny yourself the pleasures that await you.”
“I d… d… do not know what to do,” Sarah whimpered. “Oh, the things you do to me and what you make me feel.”
“Better now than later when you are ensnared in some useless marriage and regretting it,” said our stepmother in a practical tone. Sarah was half won over and she knew it even as I myself did. Once again Stepmama drew my sister into her arms and stroked her hair. “Will you not take the cock now even as Clara must?” she asked softly, smiling at me over Sarah’s head.
Sarah shook her head, her face submerged between two thrusting breasts.
“Must I cane you then? Must I, Sarah?”
“Neee-oh!” A little whimpered cry and Sarah clung to her.
“Do you want it in your bottom or in your cunny, darling? You see-I give you a choice!”
Again a shake of the head from Sarah and a deeper huddling. Then, smiling ever blandly at me over Sarah’s curled-up form, my stepmother murmured to me, “Go and see if his prick is up again and then call Bertha.”
CHAPTER TEN
To venture into Papa’s bedroom where he sat helpless and stripped to his shirt seemed to me the most daring of all the things I had yet done, yet I knew it must be. Perhaps it had been too late for me to turn back from the first moment when my stepmother had kissed and caressed me-or perhaps I never wanted to.
My palms moistened again as I opened the door. Papa turned his head and saw me immediately. Our eyes locked like thorns that become snagged together. I knew the sense of both seeing and not-seeing. His shirt being tucked up and caught behind his back, I could see all. His legs were slimmer than I had imagined and were curiously smooth, though muscular and strong, his calves having a line turn to them while his thighs, being somewhat compressed by his seated posture, looked lovingly strong. His penis lolled thickly over his balls, rather, as it seemed to me, like a big sleeping worm. Beneath it, his appendages, being distended by the pressure of the chair, gleamed not a little and had dark curls sprouting all about.