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“Well, sir, I shall try to please. All such things are a secret, are they not, even though Society knows of them?”

“Yes, that is true, though I had not thought of it before. It is not spoken of among the gentry here, but is well indulged for all that.”

“Yes, I was taught that by Mr. Rumple and I am sure it is true. Oh, sir, may I take the birch, or do you wish to wield it yourself upon their bottoms?”

Sir Richard cleared his throat and blushed. A certain confusion seemed to come over him. Both the girls' bottoms looked at their prettiest in their white drawers when they were bouncing under the twigs. His desk had always been the perfect place for it, but he had not given it to them of late.

“I-er-I am sure you will make their bottoms bounce yourself if the occasion is required.”

“Yes, sir, I will, for they are frisky sometimes and need a little taming. I shall do it slowly, of course, so as not to hurt the poor dears too much. Perhaps if they, too, do not learn their words from this dictionary, I shall accord them each a round dozen-on their bare bottoms, of course.”

“Herrumph! Ah, yes, naturally, but-er-I think it best they do not peruse the dictionary, Miss Rumple. You see-er…”

Pamela opened the dictionary quickly. Her eyes fell at random on a page. A slight blush stole over her features. “Pine-prick,” she read.

“I believe I understand what you mean, sir. I shall be most selective.”

With a little smile, Pamela made her exit. She clutched the dictionary tightly. If she left it lying around, the girls would be sure to peep within out of curiosity, and, if they did, she would not be there to know.

After all, secrets were of all sorts.

Chapter five

The Reverend Edmund Hart, the Vicar of the Parish, had never married. He dwelt mostly among books, but had lately suffered so many pangs of the flesh that he feared temptation and stayed much within the vicarage, attended by his housekeeper, Carrie, and his sister Agnes.

Agnes was a pleasing-looking woman, slightly plump of figure, who would have entertained a more social life had it not been for the brooding presence of Edmund, who seemed to have drawn too much within himself. It was a great pity and Agnes did not know the cause of it. He was frequently testy with her, which she did not put down to age since at forty he was in the prime of life, four years her senior. As for Carrie, she was a quiet woman whose presence was rarely felt.

Thus encumbered by overmuch quietness in the rather gloomy vicarage, Agnes responded with joy when she received a letter from Lady Bromley.

“See, my dear Edmund, we are invited to her next fancy-dress party. Would it not be fun? How shall we dress?”

Clearing his throat, her brother grumbled to himself for a moment. Such occasions presented numerous temptations. He knew several of the ladies among his parishioners who attended such events at the manor, and it was said that they were not always as seemly in their behaviour as they showed in the pews on Sundays.

“What nonsense, my dear, it would be foolish- indeed, flighty-of us to go.”

“You are forgetting, Edmund, that Lady Bromley has bestowed several gifts upon the church and is likely to contribute a considerable sum to assist in its restoration. It would not be proper for us to refuse.”

“Very well, if you will have it so, but I intend us not to stay overlong at such carousals. Besides, how ridiculous if we have to dress up. I cannot imagine our costumes!”

“I have already thought of it, Edmund. For one evening, let us cast off our cares and make a little merry. 'Twill do no harm. I shall go as Maid Marian and you as Robin Hood.”

“What? Parade ourselves thus? What nonsense! I forbid it!”

Agnes, however, ignored his forbidding and, being a good seamstress, set to work quietly to make their costumes in woodland green and brown. They were traditional, she comforted herself, though she got rather mixed up and made tights for both of them instead of a modest smock for herself. Thus, when she first showed her brother his intended attire and paraded before him one evening in her green tights, Edmund's reaction was one of great disturbance.

Not having made such close acquaintance with the curves of Agnes's bottom before, he was rather moved by their weighty but firm plumpness. Even so, his shock was the greater for the disturbance he felt was not only in his mind but in his breeches. The rotund orb whose deep cleft was displayed by the close sheathing of the material made Edmund feel quite dizzy.

“Edmund, dear, are you not well? Do you not like it?”

Finding himself confronted by the prospect of having to say both yes and no simultaneously, Edmund endeavoured to avert his eyes. However, he did not want to hurt Agnes, who was clearly proud of her handiwork.

“Excellent, my dear, yes-most becoming.”

“Very well, then, I am so glad. Now you must try yours on,” said Agnes, rather to the horror of her brother who knew that donning the tights would display his arisen manhood much more than his hand was successful in shielding it from her glance.

Indeed, rather to her confusion, Agnes had not entirely failed to notice the sudden protruberance in Edmund's trousers for, being at his leisure, he had cast off his jacket Her blush rising exceedingly, she could not keep her eyes off it. Yet, being a woman, and a rather frustrated one, at that, she could not but help being pleased that the plumpish, Venus-like curves of her figure should have produced such an arousal.

Edmund's cheeks had gone alternately pale and red, she noticed.

“Oh, Edmund! Have I put you out? I will change my clothes immediately. Perhaps the costume is not so becoming as I thought Oh, dear, and I have put so much cutting and stitching into it!”

Whereupon, to conceal her blushes, Agnes cast herself into her brother's arms in such wise that her figure quivered quite like jelly against his. For, truth to tell, Agnes had found the costume so tight that she had been forced to discard all apparel beneath it. Hence, what Edmund found himself clasping was an alluring bundle of warm flesh protected only by a thin layer of material.

“I think perhaps, yes-ah-you had best remove it, my dear,” he choked, for the large knob of his cock beneath his trousers was making itself distinctly felt against her belly.

“Yes, Edmund, I will do so immediately.”

Fleeing from the drawing room, Agnes found her heart palpitating. Lusty in body, she had remained almost virginal for too many years and now unwilled desires rose to the surface of her mind. Entering her bedroom, she gazed upon her image and wondered at the sudden devilment that was dancing in her mind. Edmund's rude staff had distinctly pressed against her, and it was bigger than she had ever thought it might be. With trembling fingers, she began to remove her tights-a process followed minutes later by a resounding shriek which caused Edmund to go bounding up the stairway.

“Oh, Edmund-they will not come off!”

Edmund could not believe his eyes. Agnes had removed her top and her jerkin. The latter small garment she clutched in front of her, but it was insufficient to conceal except in small part the wondrous balloons of her pale breasts. A brown nipple distinctly winked at him.

“C… C… Carrie,” he stuttered, only to be met by a wail.

“Edmund, she is long departed! Come, you must help me-but pray do not look!”

Edmund could only close his eyes and grope forward. The first object his seeking hands encountered was the firm gourd of her breast. Agnes uttered a cautiously small shriek at finding her near-naked breasts fondled and turned quickly.

“Here, Edmund-farther down!”

Edmund groped again. This time his hands encountered the warm breadth of her bottom, which wriggled to his touch.