Anonymous - First training

“Oil his knob a little, Sarah,” our stepmother ordained, ensuring that my sister was as much under duress in obeying as I. I heard a groan of satisfaction of the male at her fingers’ touch and then the swollen crest came against my rosy aperture.

I wanted of course to scream, despite all my tuition, and yet withal a sense of lewdness seized me. I had watched Sarah accept our brother’s in this fashion-albeit but an inch or so-and had felt much fervoured excitement in the sight. Now I in turn was at pillage and even more brazenly in my posture than she had been. “NOOO-HOOO!” I wished to scream, for now the cork urged in and therewith all the breath seemed to rush from my body. How thick it was, how warm, how pulsing! I felt my hole expanding to receive it, much as does moist, warm sand when the tide has receded and the fingers are pressed down within it. AAAAH! another inch, and from him another groan.

I held my silence even though I wished to cry. The sensation was delirious. I had a cock in me! “WHAA-HAAAR!” I cried in my head and all about me was a swimming heat. I yielded, yielded, urged a little back and so enforced his knob within my tube. Ooooh, the feeling of it and I cared not whose it was, believing wickedly that it might be dear Papa’s.

“It is called buggery or sodomy, my pet, but neither word pleases. Both are ugly of sound and offensive to the ears,” my stepmother afterwards told me. “Better,” she went on, “to say a girl is corked or plugged or put to it, for the meaning then is clearer and a vision of it better taken. When lewdness takes you then you may work back and forth with your hips in concert with the male, though the most imperious ladies receive their corkings often without movement, and in particular if one male slave after another is put to them.”

In this moment, however, I knew nothing of theory but only of sensations. My conqueror, snorting not a little through his nostrils, but otherwise kept quiet by the attendance of my stepmother, had soon succeeded in gaining his libertine entry with half of his pulsing shaft upon which I could not help but squeeze since its girth invaded me to the uttermost. I would have retreated in that moment, perhaps, but had nowhere to move. The instinct, as I learned, is to repel the invader, and yet the faint wrigglings of one’s hips invites it. His hands clamped me tightly about the sides of my buttocks and I heard his feet shuffle apart as though to gain purchase on the carpet for his task.

How manly a well-proportioned male looks in such a posture I can well admire-his calves straining, knees unflexed and balls waiting to swing once the full plugging motions begin. Infinitely more beautiful, however, is the subdued-or apparently subdued female-for in the correct posture her ardent derriere is fully raised and thrust out for the amourous assault which she soon learns to long for.

Once the halfway mark is reached, the remaining passage becomes easier, as I now learned. He would have plunged in then, I know, had the ribbon wound around the base of his stiff penis not provided warning tugs. I was intended to feel every inch of his lewd entry and did. The breath whistled softly from my own nostrils and my fallen hair cascaded down on either side of my face to sweep upon the carpet. I wanted to sob, to cry out, to implore, but remembered ever the final role to which I was destined. A humming sound of frustration emitted itself from his throat which I dimly interpreted as a plea for him to be fully at me, but my stepmother was inexorable in her treatment of the males. Indeed, as I had heard from Sarah afterwards, her free hand was at the back of his hair to restrain him further if need be, for I was said to be a toothsome piece whose apple bottom every male would plug on sight and with full randiness were he able to.

A gasp escaped me as the last two inches were rammed up. Such small sounds were thankfully forgiven and with a sense of extreme excitement and ecstasy, I felt my heat-sheened bottom mounded to his belly. The inevitable “HOLD!” came from my stepmother then and never was the compression better felt than when his pego pushed away in me, tight-clenched as it was between my ardent cheeks.

I had almost forgotten my stinging-or rather the sensations I had so resented and which indeed had pained me, merged now into an otherness of bliss to find myself male-corked at last. My legs stiffened of their own accord and I presented-fully cleft as I was-the prettiest of sights, or so was told afterwards.

“Had you rotated your bottom eagerly, I would have forgiven you, Clara,” my stepmother said afterwards, “for I never knew so sweetly docile a pupil, nor one so eager to receive the sperm. What did it feel like?” she asked me but half an hour afterwards, her eyes sparkling.

“Oh, like a big fleshy poker,” I sighed. “At first I wished to reject it, but was then invaded by delicious sensations of complete surrender. My bottomhole felt larger than ever before and yet was so tight about his cock I thought him never able to move it. When he drew out slowly to the knob I wanted to cry out for its entry, but you stayed him thus and teased me horribly!”

“Yes, what a delicious moment that was, to see you so a-tremble and almost in doubt that the cork would return into the neck of the bottle, so to speak! I leaned forward then, stroked the fronts of your thighs while they quivered and felt the sticky moisture of your quim before permitting him to drive the peg in again. I heard your teeth chatter distinctly and a little mewing cry come from you. You will have no doubts about your pleasure there again, will you?”

“No, never! Will it be as nice in my cunt?”

“Of course, though the sensation is different. The two pleasures are twins to one another, though a true Madame, I think, prefers it up her bottom, for she can judge the full entry of the tool better and feel the squirting of the come. How you puffed and worked your hips towards the end, you naughty thing!”

I giggled and said I could not help it and wished I had had a mirror to watch Sarah’s eyes.

“Hah! they were like saucers, Clara! How her bosom heaved and such a sullen look of pleasure on her face that no dissembling on her part could disguise!”

“You have not told me who it was and neither will Sarah tell.”

“She dare not speak of such without my permission. There need be no secret in the matter. It was Bertha’s husband, Tim-a brawny man with a fine cock that Bertha has seen to it is well trained for its tasks. And why he? Because, as I have told you, my pet, it matters not within all reason, who your provider is. Tim is clean and firm in body, which is all that matters and was the mere provider of your pleasure. Did you feel the jetting of his come?”

“Oh, it bubbled and throbbed and pelleted in me until I thought it would never end and even through the gathering thickness of the sperm I felt his shootings on and on. How delicious!”

“He was kept from coming for a full week, in readiness for the task. Bertha saw to that, massaging his pecker daily.”

A cloud passed across my mind. “But, Mama, when he sees me again, comes upon me, oh I shall blush and know not where to look!”

“Tush and nonsense, my pet. This is the very lesson you have yet to learn. You will gaze at him directly, calmly and impersonally. So far from being bold with you, his eyes will drop. He knows you to be the conqueror and not the conquered.”

“But were he to come upon me alone-perhaps at the far end of the grounds and I defenceless?”

“Defenceless you never now can be. You received his prick imperiously, my sweet, uttering not a cry nor a protest. He will know your merit. His cock will stir, will rise upon sight of you, remembering as he will the luscious tightness of your orb, the way you sucked on him.”