I smiled. “Do you like whipping them?”
“Yes,” she replied. “I must confess I do. Especially the boy. He is a nice little fellow, and so plucky; he always takes his punishment bravely; and he has such a pretty little bottom, and such a dear little “thing.’ I always manage to touch it when I am whipping him.”
“Oh, you naughty girl!” I exclaimed, laughing. Then I added: “I should very much like to see you whipping them.”
“I know you would,” she observed, smiling, and making a little face at me.
“Could you not manage to hide me somewhere, and let me see you using the rod, one of these days?” I said coaxingly; at the same tame putting my hand up her clothes, and gently tickling the “spot,” which was still a little moist with the “dew of love.”
She kicked out her legs, and laughed: then after a moment’s thought, said: “I think it could be managed. I could put you in the alcove behind the curtains, and you would be able to peep between them. No one would know you were there.”
“That’s a good girl. I was sure yon could arrange the matter for me,” I said, giving her a hearty kiss.
“But you may have to wait some time before you see one of the children punished. I never give them a birching unless they deserve it.”
“I am in no hurry. I should like to see either of them turned up; but of course it would give me more pleasure to see you operate upon the girl.”
“Oh, I know that very well; you naughty boy,” she marked, unbuttoning my trousers, and letting out my half-stiff prick. Then, gently rubbing it, she said: “You shall see them both whipped in due course. And you will admire Dora’s bottom very much. She has a most beautiful white skin. I have never seen a whiter one; and it is so extremely fine, that the least thing marks it. She is a great coward, and always makes a great fuss while she is being whipped.”
“All the more fun for the whipper, and also for the looker-on,” said I, with a smile. Then, as my cock, under her skilful manipulation had again become ready for action, I extended her on the sofa, and gave her another rattling poke; much to her satisfaction, and also to my own.
By this time it was past six o’clock, so. I made preparations to depart, but Frances would not let me go. She said she had ordered a nice little dinner, as she had fully expected me to stay.
I was delighted to remain a little longer with my old sweetheart; and I told her so. She then said: “Dinner will be ready at seven o’clock, so I must run away and dress; and I will send a maid to show you to a room where you can wash your hands.”
Then she tripped away; and a few minutes after, a maid-servant came and took me upstairs to a charmingly furnished bedroom, where I found a jug of hot water, comb and brushes, towels, and various other articles for making a toilet, laid out in readiness for me. I had a good wash, and brushed my hair; then I went down again to the drawing-room, where Frances was already seated, looking fresh and lovely, in a handsome black silk dinner gown, with her hair elaborately dressed in the latest style. Presently we were joined by the governess, to whom I was introduced by Frances. She said that I was her old guardian; which was, to a certain extent, the truth.
The governess, Miss Martin, was a ladylike woman, not more than thirty years of age; she had a pleasant face and manner; and she was nicely dressed. We had a little chat, and I was glad to see that Frances treated the governess with kindness and consideration, speaking to her on all occasions as one lady should speak to another, whatever may be their relative positions. At seven o’clock, dinner was announced, and, in obedience to a sign from Frances, I gave Miss Martin my arm, and led her into the dining-room. We sat down at a round able, prettily decorated with flowers and fruit; the dinner was good, and well-cooked, the wines were of very fair quality, and we were waited on by two smart parlourmaids. It was a merry little repast. Frances had always been a well-informed woman, and an amusing talker, but that night her conversation was more brilliant and witty than I had ever known it to be in the old days. Miss Martin also, had plenty to say for herself, and it struck me that she had a bit of fun in her. However, our conversation was of the most decorous description, and we all got on together extremely well. At dessert, the children came in, prettily dressed, and looking like little pictures. Each was given a plate of fruit, and they remained in the room a short time, cluttering away without restraint, but behaving with perfect propriety.
After dinner, Frances told me to smoke my cigar; and when I had finished it, we went into the drawing-room, where my charming hostess, glancing at me with a humorous twinkle In her eyes, sank gracefully down upon the sofa which had been the altar of our love a few hours previously. I drew up a chair beside her, and we had a long and confidential chat, while Miss Martin played the piano.
At eleven o’clock, I bade the ladies good night; drove off to my chambers, and went to bed, feeling much pleased at knowing that my old sweetheart would be always at my disposal whenever I wanted a poke.
The time slipped away rapidly, and pleasantly. I called upon Frances nearly every day; she being always delighted to see me; and I seldom left the house without at least one poke. I also dined occasionally with her, but she would never dine out with me, nor would she go about much in my company. She said, laughingly, that now she was a rich widow, she did not wish to have any scandal talked about her. I thought she was right. And I was quite satisfied as long as she did not make any objection to my poking her. But she never did make an objection-quite the contrary-she was always ready, and glad to receive the “stroke of love.”
We revelled in our mutual embraces; and to me, it was always most piquant to poke the luscious and lovely woman fully attired in her charming toilettes, in all sorts of fancy positions; on the sofa, or sitting in a chair, and sometimes kneeling on all-fours upon the floor.
No more voluptuous woman than Frances ever wriggled her bottom in the delicious spasm of love.
I had not as yet seen either of the children birched, and I began to think that my sweetheart had forgotten she had promised to let me see her using the rod; so one day I reminded her. She said, laughing, that she had not forgotten her promise; but that, so far, she had had no reason to whip either the boy or the girl. And she again assured me that she would not fail to let me know whenever she had occasion to apply the rod.
The day after our conversation, I had to go down to Oakhurst on business, but before leaving town, I let Frances know the day on which I meant to return. I got back to London at noon on the day specified, and on reaching my chambers, found a note from Frances. It had arrived that morning, and though it was short, it was to the point. It said:
Dearest Charley,
Come at three o’clock, and spend the afternoon with me, and stay to dinner.
Your loving Frances. P.S. I am going to birch both the children.
I smiled as I read the brief, but most satisfactory epistle. I was glad she had remembered her promise; and I said to myself that the afternoon would be a pleasant and exciting one in various ways.
First of all, I should have the pleasure of seeing two pretty, little, white bottoms reddening and wriggling under the rod; and then when I was thoroughly excited, and had got a good cockstand at the sight of the whipping, I should have the additional pleasure of turning up the petticoats of the whipper, and of administering to her a taste of my “rod,” The whole thing would be delicious! I lunched at my club; and sharp at three o’clock, I knocked at the door of the house in Kensington, and was shown up to the drawing-room, where I found Frances, with a waggish expression on her face, waiting to receive me. She was dressed in her pretty, lace-trimmed, black tea gown; and when I took her in my arms to kiss her, I found that she had on no stays, and on potting my hand tip her clothes, I farther discovered that she was not wearing drawers.