Anonymous - Frank and I

“You can, indeed,” I remarked. Then I added: “Now, Kate, I want you to let me have a good look at your bottom.”

She smiled, and blushed slightly, but answered without hesitation: “Very well You may look at it.”

I made her lean well over the back of an easy-chair; then I turned her skirt, petticoats, and chemise up to her shoulders; and unfastening her drawers, let them slip down to her feet Then, with a stiff prick, and glistening eyes, I inspected her grand bottom, which swelled boldly out in high relief as if inviting a spanking.

I passed my hand over the creamy-white hemispheres of plump firm flesh; stroking them up and down; squeezing them, and playing with them in all sorts of ways, while she looked over her shoulder, smiling.

“You have a magnificent bottom, Kate,” I observed, pinching one of the cheeks with my finger and thumb.

“Yes, I believe I have rather a good one,” she said, thrusting her head round, and glancing down at her big posteriors.

“Will you let me spank you?” I asked.

She hesitated a moment; then said: “Yes. But not too hard.”

“All right, I won’t be too hard. Ill only raise a blush on the pretty white cheeks, and make them tingle a little.”

She braced herself up, stiffening the muscles of her bottom and thighs; and bending well over the chair. Then I began to spank her; and it was a very pleasing task. I laid on the smacks pretty smartly, my hand rebounding from her firm, elastic flesh; and in a very short time the great white half-moons had turned a rosy red, and she had begun to flinch under the hot slaps.

I stopped spanking; then unbuttoning my trousers, I let out my tool, intending to poke her “en levrette.” But when she saw me advancing-to the attack, she looked surprised, and was going to stand up. So, I said: “Don’t move, Kate. I am going to enjoy from behind.”

She gazed over her shoulder, with her large, hazel eyes wide open in utter astonishment-she had evidently never been poked “en levrette”-but she stood still. Taking hold of her massive thighs, I slightly separated them; then clasping my hands in front of her belly, I stooped a little, and thrust my prick between the lower part of the cheeks of her bottom, deeply into her cunt. I began to work vigorously, and she appeared to thoroughly enjoy the novel sensation of being poked from behind. She moved her loins backwards and forwards briskly to meet my digs, squeaking with pleasure; and when the discharge came, she received it with a quiver of voluptuous delight, wriggling her bottom furiously, and heaving a deep sigh of satisfaction.

When all was over, and she had fastened up her drawers, and I had buttoned up my trousers, we sat down on the sofa.

Glancing rather shyly at me, she said: “I have never been embraced in that way before. It quite astonished me. I had no idea there were more ways than one of doing it.”

“It can be done in many other ways, and I hope to show them all to you, in time,” I observed.

She laughed; her eyes gleamed, and her cheeks flushed. She was decidedly a voluptuous woman, and the thought of future pokes in strange positions, was evidently pleasing to her.

We had a short chat, then she rang for tea; and after we had refreshed ourselves with a cup, she sat down on the floor at my feet, coolly unbuttoned my trousers, and took out my limp prick, which she began to handle in a skilful manner. She was up to that trick! When she had got my tool ready for action, she laughed and looked up in my face, her eyes shining with a sensuous expression of desire. I said: “Now, I’ll show you another way of doing it. Stand up with your back towards me.” She instantly rose to her feet and placed herself in the required position, laughing and looking over her shoulder.

“Pull open the slit of your drawers as widely as possible, and then hold your petticoats well above your waist.” She did so: and as soon as the big semi-globes of her bottom-still pink from the spanking-were fairly exposed, I drew her close up to my knees, and made her lower her bottom down upon my upstanding prick, which I guided with my fingers into its proper place, until the weapon was up to the hilt in the sheath. Then I told her to move herself up and down on the “dart,” and she did so, while I gently worked my loins; so, in a short time, the affair was finished; and she had been again poked in a new position, much to her amusement and satisfaction. She remarked, as she lay back against my breast:

“That is a capital way of doing ‘it,’ when a woman has got all her clothes on. The position is comfortable, and it does not rumple her dress,”

“Yes,” I replied. “It is a most convenient position. A man can ‘have’ a woman that way, in a moment, in any quiet corner; or in a railway carriage, or even in a hansom cab.”

She laughed, and asked me a number of questions about the various ways of poking. I gave her full descriptions of the different methods, and by the time I had satisfied her curiosity, it was also time for me to be going, as I had an engagement to dinner. So I gave her a kiss, telling her that I had to go home and dress. She got off my knees, where she had been sitting ever since I had poked her, and arranged her rather disordered attire; saying, with a laugh: “Well, we have spent a pleasant afternoon. I hope to see you soon again, and then you must show me practically some of the other positions.”

I laughed, and replied: “I will show you, in due course, all the other positions.”

Then I shook hands with her, and took my departure, feeling very well pleased with what I had seen, and also with what I had done.

The rime passed. In another week Frances was to be married. She had introduced me to Gilbert, whom I found to be a very good sort of fellow in every way, and very much in love with Frances. She also loved him, so there was every chance of the marriage turning out well. I was glad to know that my “ward” would have a good husband, and I felt quite sure she would be a faithful wife, if she was well treated, and also well poked. During the past weeks, she had very frequently been out with her fiance; so I had been able to spend pleasant afternoons with Miss Martin whom I showed practically-as she had desired-all the various positions in which a man may poke a woman.

Dora had been sent to a boarding-school which had been recommended by Miss Martin; and that lady, one afternoon, told me that the principal of the establishment was a strict disciplinarian, and a firm believer in the salutary effect of a good whipping applied in orthodox fashion to the bottom of a naughty girl. Miss Martin also informed me that the mistress of the school did not use a birch rod, as she considered it too apt to cut the tender skin of a girl’s bottom.

So, instead of a rod, she always used a small whip with six thin leather thongs-it is called in France a “martinet”-which stung sharply, and left scarlet stripes on the culprit’s bottom, but never broke the skin. The delinquents were flogged privately, and were strapped to a padded “horse” while receiving their punishment.

The governess added, laughing: “Dora will soon find herself on the ‘horse,’ and then she will feel what a real flogging is like. She has never had a severe whipping in her life,”

“Poor Dora!” I remarked in a tone of sympathy.

“Oh, you needn’t pity her! It will do her good. You have no idea what a troublesome girl she has lately become.”

We then dropped the subject, and proceeded to business. That afternoon I spanked her once, and poked her twice.