“But the beauty of her skin might suffer,” he criticised. It would be a crime to allow such lovely thighs to become roughened by the winter weather. Come here, Louise, and let me feel your thighs.”
“Give the gown to Mrs. Bolton, Louise!” he commanded the girl.
Mechanically she moved as if to comply — and then, seeing how all her body was revealed through the fragility of her undergarment in its most intimate details, she gave a little cry and drew the dress about her once more.
“I fear, Doris,” he said placidly, “that you have not trained Louise to instant obedience. You and I will have a reckoning on that point later. Meanwhile, I think that you had better set her a good example by removing and returning to Rose the gown which you have on-which also has not been paid for as yet.”
The beautiful Mrs. Tasker paled… but she complied at once with his order. With her marvelous bronze gold hair topped by a daintily coquettish hat — with a short chemise of creamy silk barely concealing hips and crotch and leaving the lower curves of her lovely buttocks on display-with her handsome legs clad in gauzy silk stockings to half way up her thighs-Doris presented the loveliest of pictures.
She was so glorious in her disarray and her shame that, even though he had enjoyed her lovely body to the full the previous day, Francis vibrated ardently to the sight.
“Follow your mother's example, Louise,” he directed. “Give Mrs. Bolton your gown — which is of course her property and not yours.”
And as the scantily clad girl still hesitated, he sighed mockingly at her-and turned back to Doris Tasker in simulated regret.
“I had hoped to spare you, Doris!” he said. “But really! Louise is so obstinate that I must take extreme measures with you in my attempt to appeal to her better nature. Come here-Doris… lie over my left thigh and lift your chemise in the rear up to the small of your back.”
The bright color flooded anew over the face of the poor Doris Tasker as she gave this renewed evidence of the lascivious and utter domination which the man held over her and Mrs. Bolton.
His left arm went about her body. He had planted his left foot on a low stool. She gasped-and with good reason, for his broad palm supporting her body did so by invading the soft, hairless mound of her sex… while upon her naked hip was pressed the exciting and throbbing shaft of his concealed virility.
Wide eyed and shuddering, Louise witnessed this weak and disgraceful display of her mother's abject yielding to this new shame. She saw Francis raise his right hand in the air for the first smack upon the doomed behind. Her mother's body anticipated the blow… and twisted away in a gesture of fright. Her parted legs writhed across his thigh, disclosing all her secret charms.
“Stop… stop!” quavered the trembling girl hoarsely, as she eyed her mother's pink and moistly opening slit with a mixture of horror and delight.
“I will do what you say-I will take off anything… I will let you see-do-whatever you say! But… don't… please don't spank my mother again! Mrs. Bolton- here is the dress…”