At the appointed hour then, I slipped upstairs and hid myself as I had been told. There was no fear that Robert would at any time touch or open the door to the dressing room which gave immediately on to the bedroom. I had not been in there before and was fascinated by the several chests it contained together with two wardrobes, a couple of armchairs and various items of my stepmother’s clothing laid casually about. There were patterned stockings of black and grey, several corsets with lace frills, long boots, garters, and much else to tempt my fingers. While waiting in the silence that surrounded me I lifted a chemise and a corset that were crumpled up together and saw beneath to my profound curiosity a small black whip that had not one thong but many-like snakes, I thought. The thongs were thin and plaited, being no more than some twenty inches long and attached to a handle of ebony which was serrated for grip. It looked strange and alien and yet I could not help but touch the handle and wonder a little that it should lay so openly there.
Then footsteps sounded and my stepmother entered alone. I wondered if the venture were not to proceed for she moved about the bedroom for a moment and then opened the door where I stood.
“Be quiet, be still and do not move no matter what is said or done,” she said and with that all but closed the door again in such a manner as left a gap for me to peer through. The bed ran parallel to the wall where the door was and she seated herself upon the side of it in such a position that I could not fail to see her. Then almost immediately came a knock to which she responded in a clear voice.
Robert entered then and closed the door which added to the fraughtness of the moment for myself at least. Then, as she patted the bed beside her, he came fully into view, looking I thought a little pale and his face full of wonder.
“Sit!” my stepmother said sharply and, as he did so, adjusted her posture so that her curving hip touched his. His complexion flushed then and his hands clasped themselves together nervously. He knew not where to look and seemed to wish to avoid her eyes. Smiling, with no little condescension in her face, she laid one hand upon his upper thigh, making him start. “Are you nervous?” she asked. A perfect thrill shot through me then for I divined instinctively that something had been said and done between them before and that I was about to share in a secret that would otherwise have been hidden from me. As she spoke she used her other hand to raise two fingers beneath his chin and draw his face around to hers, at which he most distinctly blushed.
“No,” he quavered, but I knew him to be lying.
“You have no need to be. Remember what I have told you, Robert. You have but to obey me and all will be well. Do you not wish to obey me now?”
He bit his lip. I could have sworn that tears sparkled in his eyes. Bereft of speech, he nodded, though the movement of his head was constrained by her touch.
“Robert-answer me!” Her voice was level but sharp, her bosom rising and falling visibly beneath her grey and white gown that gave full prominence to her breasts and allowed their upper, milky surfaces to be seen in all their swelling glory.
“Yes,” he replied, his voice thick.
“I beg your pardon, Robert?” Again her steely tone.
“Y… y… yes, Mama,” he croaked and again a thrilling sensation ran through my veins.
“That is better,” she purred. “You must give constant thought to everything I tell you, for you will be guided and instructed now by none but me. Do you wish to pay penance now?”
Robert’s face suffused, his hands trembled, for in that moment I distinctly saw our stepmother’s forefinger extend itself where her hand lay on his thigh so that it passed just once over his genitals. A sound that could only imply assent came from his throat. At that she stood up in such a position that she was facing me and no more than eight feet from the small opening through which I peered. It seemed then that all heaven waited for what was to occur next.
Robert rose in turn, his shoulders bowed. First he removed his jacket and, while she stood supremely silent and upright with her feet placed apart, he folded it and placed it on the bed. He was shaking, as I could see. I thought perhaps that she was to cane him, and yet her posture did not indicate it, for the back of her legs were close to the edge of the bed and she gave no hint of moving.
“Down, Robert,” she then intoned and he moved as might a puppet, with a shaky stiffness in his limbs.
There, before my astonished eyes, he stood before her, head bowed, and then sank slowly to his knees so that his forehead all but touched her skirt. Gazing directly at me then, she smiled a little and-raising her skirts to just above her knees where her black stockings glistened-threw them right over Robert’s head so that he was enveloped as within a tent.
“Now,” she commanded.
Eyes glazed, I saw a movement of his knees and back that betokened that he had moved further into her. Indeed, her eyes half closed and her lovely mouth for a moment assumed a petulant look. I knew then that Robert’s face was pressed against the most intimate part of her person, only a small part of his calves, his ankles and feet showing where the broad skirt had cascaded down over him. Her legs being well apart, she held them thus for a moment and then to a muffled groan from my brother she clipped them quickly together so that his head was tightly gripped between her thighs. Her hand then moved down to where the bulge of the back of his head just showed and she pressed upon it, not gently but demandingly, bringing a snort from him.
Dumbstruck, I could not really conceive what was happening save that our stepmother looked glorious and victorious in her stance, her hand held firm to him and her shoulders back, her face slightly flushed and lifted. Her hips moved a little and then stayed themselves. Once more came a groan from Robert, for evidently her thighs had tightened against his ears and I could well imagine the ruffled rims of her garters there.
Suddenly she jerked. “Ah! not your tongue, you little beast! I shall whip you, Robert, for that. Keep your mouth open, and your tongue well hid.”
Then did both her hands clamp themselves against the back of his head, her legs parted anew and she threw her head back, a look of perfect pleasure on her face. I could hear faintly the gasping of my brother’s breath. A full minute passed and then another. Stepmama’s beauteous expression looked soft and fulfilled, I of course being quite dazed but not a little stirred and excited by this strange, strange event. Then with sudden decision she flipped up her skirt from over him, stepped back and immediately let it cascade down to her ankles while the red face of my brother-or rather in the first instance his flushed neck-came into view.
“Up!” she commanded him and, trembling more than ever, he staggered to his feet, whereat she took his shoulders and spun him around so that he stood in profile to me.
I could not help but let my eyes seek where I knew they were to do so and saw immediately the considerable hump in his trousers. Thereupon, our stepmother passed her hand lightly over it, standing as she was face on to his left shoulder. He gurgled, started and stared straight at her door.
“Show me, Robert. Show Mama,” she said quietly. Robert’s hands moved. With shaking fingers he prised open his buttons one by one, I holding my breath as each was loosed. Finding him too slow, she gave an impatient tug at his shirt just above the waistband of his trousers which seemed to act like some sort of trigger or release, for then out sprang his cock in full erection, the crest positively glowing with pride and I drinking in every inch of the fleshy stem.