Anonymous - First training

“Now, darling, three beneath. Bring them up well,” I was told.

Clarissa’s rounded derriere was by then a bright pink and merging into red. This time I measured the angle of the paddle and brought it up well, causing her to reach right up on to her toes under the impelling sweep of the paddle. “GAR-HAAAAR.!” I heard her choke at each one and saw her burning cheeks contract and then relax. A nod from my mentor and I dropped the paddle. I wanted dearly to kiss those heated hemispheres and my stepmother could not miss the fact, so gave yet another nod and a little smile. Her lips distinctly formed the words, “Feuille de rose!”

Enchanted and quite unable to resist, I fell silently to my knees behind the sobbing girl so that her luscious bottom loomed before my face. How violently she bucked when first she felt my lips! My stepmother, anticipating the movement, pressed her free hand firmly down into the small of sweet Clarissa’s back and so restrained her movement, though her hot bum still bumped agreeably to my nose.

Thereupon I grasped her cheeks and, thumbing within her groove on both sides, drew the plump elastic halfmoons just so far apart that her crinkled orifice came into my view. I heard the snorting of her breath though her nostrils, delved my tongue and found her coy, tight hole, Twirling my tongue, I felt a sense of ecstasy as the rimmed ridge came to my touch. What a mйlange of scents I experienced-that heady odor di feminina of which only the most knowing and subtle think to write! Then perhaps in that moment the true meaning of feuille, or leaf, came to me and I curled my tongue upwards on both sides like a leaf that has drawn up its edges, and worked it tight within.

“Thoooooo!” I heard Clarissa whine.

“Very delicately, dear, just back and forth. Reach in as far as you can,” I then was told.

Again and again Clarissa’s bottom bumped my face, but I held her. Then, reaching up one hand, though not instructed to, I felt her quim, its softness, its rolled lips, its moistness. Running my forefinger between the oily cleft I sought her spot and there rubbed gently as my stepmother had done to Sarah.

“Neee-uuumph!” Clarissa exploded, yet her most intimate parts were divulging secrets that her mind would not. Her legs began to tremble as I circled my fingertip and felt her bud erect itself the more. My tongue squirmed in her bottomhole, drew out and then invaded once again. At that her bottom began to rotate a little rather than to rebel, and of course my stepmother was watching like a hawk her every move. The urgings of Clarissa’s hips were a little more womanly now rather than merely childish. The bulging flesh of her bottom glowed to my face and her exudations were becoming excitingly sticky. The breath rattled in her throat.

“All right,” my stepmother snapped. She sensed exactly, it seemed, when Clarissa might come on and spill her dew. I had been about, in fact, to delve my face up right between her thighs and bring her fur upon my mouth. A little disappointed that this final pleasure had not been afforded me, I rose, quivering with excitement, while with a sudden movement my stepmother swung Clarissa up into a standing position and whirled her around so that their bodies bumped together, face to face.

“Now, my dear, you will be quiet,” came in a steely tone.

“You… you… you…” moaned Clarissa wildly, her skirts still wreathed up and her bottom a perfect glory of pink and white.

“Yes, I–I, Julia,” came my stepmother’s response and with that she dragged the young woman’s head back and forced her to stare full into her eyes. Even as I had been, Clarissa appeared mesmerised, her chin gripped commandingly and one hand cupped beneath her naked bottom.

“Go, Clara-I will bring her down in a moment,” I was told. Disappointment showed clear in my expression yet I did unquestioningly as I was told. There are moments, as I learned, when there should be no witnesses to what is said or done. Descending to the drawing room, I felt an air of awkwardness obtaining.

“What is to do?” Sarah asked me rather pertly, though I could have sworn that she knew very well what was to do, for some scuffling at least must have made itself heard.

“Clarissa is being tutored,” I said casually and gave her a slightly cold look for asking so open a question. A silence then obtained as if no one knew what to say, all minds being busy above stairs, so to speak. “Will the gentleman not have more wine?” I asked and then in a sharper tone than I intended, said to Robert, “See, please, to his glass.”

Clarissa’s guardian cleared his throat, his eyes not being above perusing both Sarah’s breasts and thighs as well as my own. It was the first command, if it could be called such, that I had ever given to my brother, he being more used to ordering me about, and I was no doubt as much surprised as he when without question he rose to oblige, not so much out of courtesy I felt as at receiving an order from a female. Going to the sideboard, he obtained the bottle and was in mid-stride with it when our stepmother appeared leading Clarissa, who looked unconscionably pale.

“That will not be needed, Robert,” we were told. My brother then stared from her to me and then back to my stepmother, which I was vaguely pleased at, as though he were caught between two fires. Being urged forward gently, Clarissa sat in a chair neighbouring that of her guardian. We were then as an audience might be that waits the rising of the curtain. The bottle was replaced upon the sideboard.

“An air of expectancy reigns,” my stepmother smiled. Totally in command of us as she was, she took the centre of the floor so that we gazed on her as pupils do a Mistress. Her words were cleverly put, for no one could comment upon them. She waited a moment as if daring one or another to do so and then clapped her hands, making us jump, or making at least myself jump. At that Bertha appeared, dangling the little whip in her hand, and with her a tall, slim youth close to Robert’s age whom I had seen about their cottage on the estate. I knew him as a labourer but upon this occasion he wore what might have been styled his Sunday best-narrow black trousers and a white shirt.

“Excellent,” my stepmother said and, while all looked a trifle apprehensive as Bertha turned the key in the lock, went on blandly, “We now have three males to three females here. Of them all perhaps Charlie is the better trained, for you have seen to him well, have you not, Bertha?”

“That I have, m’am. He’s allowed a sniff or two around me but no more than that if you don’t count his queenings.”

The meaning of that last word being unknown to me, I sat fair still. Sarah and Clarissa had turned into statues. Robert was transfixed. As for Clarissa’s guardian, he made play at first to be intrinsically interested in a tidying of his cravat.

“Yes,” my stepmother said. She crooked her finger and the young man approached, looking neither wary nor nervous but as one in a dream who is hailed to step towards a goddess. “Do you like it, Charlie? Do you like what is done to you?” was asked him softly.

He shuffled thereat, seeming not to be able to meet her eyes-or wishing so much to do so that he did not dare. “I have my obediences, m’am,” he murmured, the statement producing a broad smile from my stepmother who, turning, asked of us, “You see? One here at least knows his obediences, as you all shall. Robert-you will lie down in the centre of the floor as will Charlie. Head to feet I will have you, and about a foot apart.”

I heard Sarah swallow. Clarissa shifted in her chair. No sooner were the words spoken, however, than Charlie slid down on to his back and I saw now the reason why my stepmother had disposed of so many oddments of furniture. There was room for all to move. Robert was hesitating, but a further snapped command brought him up. He moved stiffly, shaking not a little and then laid himself down in the manner ordained so that his head came level with Charlie’s feet. At that, Bertha moved into the room and came closer to my stepmother, so that I knew a further drama was to ensue. All eyes were on her whip.