Anonymous - Beatrice

Again the crop. It skimmed my naked bottom cheeks, not cutting but skimming as if it were skittering across the face of a balloon. Who had taught her that? It stung, lifting me up on to my toes in the stirrups. I leaned forward, clutching at the horse's mane, breathing my whistling cries to the far-deep empty sky.

At the twelfth stroke of the crop upon each of us, Jenny raised her hand. We slowed, we cantered, we reined in. Panting we fell forward, exposing our burning bottoms to the air. The breeze was cool across our pumpkins hot.

"Dismount!" Jenny called. Frederick the servant was returning. He carried things. "Stable them!" Jenny ordered him. She referred I thought to the horses, but he ignored them. My bottom tightened as he approached. The ground would receive me-surely it would receive me. I would bury myself in the longer grass and hide until I was called in to tea. I would be fifteen again.

The leather collar bands that I now saw in the servant's hands were broad and thick, studded with steel points on the outer surfaces. My eyes said no but he did not look. I wrote a question silently on my lips as I used to do with father in the attic. The servant could not read. He fastened the first collar around my neck. A chain ran down my back. The tip of it settled in the outcurving of my buttocks. From behind me then where Caroline stood I heard a small cry.

"No, Caroline, be still!" Jenny hissed. "Walk forward to the barn now!"

Behind us the servant held the chains, one in each hand like reins. We stumbled over the grass, the rough hillocks.

"Why?" Caroline asked. It was only to herself that she spoke, but Jenny answered her. She walked beside us, ushering our steps.

"Love is firmness, Caroline. You are the privileged ones. Halt!"

We had neared the stable doors. They were open. The darkness within yawned upon the meadow, eating the air that came near it. Katherine was there. She closed her parasol and leaned it against one of the doors.

"Leave this-I will see to them," she told Jenny.

"Yes, Madame," Jenny answered. Was she not queen? Who was queen? The chains snaked against our backs, urging us forward. And within. In the flushing of Caroline's cheeks I could feel my flushing.

"Over there," Katherine said and pointed. There were two stalls-too narrow for horses. The dividing wall between them was but a foot high. I saw the chains again, the wall rings. Caroline wilted and would have stepped back. She was prodded forward. The manacles, ankle rings and chains all were secured. We stood side by side, the low wall between us. I wanted the back of my hand to touch Caroline's hand, but it could not.

"Their dresses, you fool-raise their skirts," Katherine said. I felt Frederick's hands. They were strong but delicate. Not touching my legs or bottom he bared me to my waist. Caroline quivered and bit her lip as he repeated the action with her.

"Wash their flanks," Katherine said.

I heard a clink of bucket. The sponge attended to us both. Water trickled over our buttocks and thighs. It ran down into the tops of my stockings and lay in rills around the tight rims. Patted roughly, we were dried.

"They are fair mounts. What do you think, Frederick?"

"Yes, Madame."

His voice was stiff, expressionless. I relaxed my bottom, feeling its glow-the aftermath of the cropping. The outcurving cheeks above my dampy thighs were roseate. I could see them in my mind. I wished I could see Katherine now in her white dress, but my back was held to her. She is very beautiful. Her dark hair flows down over her shoulders.

"Display, Frederick!"

Her voice was curt. She waited. I could hear her waiting, the sound of her waiting, like a bell that has stopped tolling and waits for the rope to be pulled again.

"Madame?"

His voice was a croak. Was he afraid? I felt not afraid. The day lay upon me, soft of the morning. My flesh bloomed. The damp upon my flesh was warm with my flesh. The tops of my stockings chilled. Caroline breathed through her nose. There were noises, shufflngs, small metal noises; cloth noises.

Cloth makes noises like fog.

Display? What was display?

"Turn them!" I heard Katherine say. Ah, it was strange. He held his loins back as he obeyed so that the wavering crest of his pintle-pestle would not touch us. It was long and thick. I like long and thick now. The chains rattled. We were turned. I saw through the barn doors as through a huge eye. The world outside disenchanted me. There was an emptiness. Katherine sat on a bale, her legs crossed. Her skirts were drawn up to show her knees. She smiled at me a light smile, a wisp of a smile. Caroline's face was scarlet. The servant was naked. His balls were big. His penis was a horn of plenty.

We stood side by side still-children waiting to be called to the front of the class. For punishment or to be given prizes? Frederick's body was slender, muscular.

"Come!" Katherine said to him. He turned and moved to her. His back was to us, but he did not look at her. I could feel he did not. His glance was high. Above her head. In homage high. There was a trestle close-two pairs of legs shaped in a narrow V with a bar across. He moved to the front of it and stopped. His back touched the bar. Then he bent-a backward bend-so that his spine arched over the bar, his palms flat on the floor beyond. His penis stuck straight up.

Katherine moved her long wide skirt with an elegant gesture and slipped down off the bale. She came to us. We had kept our legs apart. She was pleased.

"Caroline will lie with her face between my thighs tonight, Beatrice. I shall wear black stockings-pearls around my neck. My thighs will clench her ears. Will you see? Do you wish to see?"

My eyes pleaded. She laughed. She squeezed my chin until my lips parted. "You can see his cock," she breathed. Her tongue snaked within my mouth. I tasted the breath of her, warm and sweet as Benedictine. She twirled her tongue, then moved to Caroline. "Put your tongue in my mouth-Caroline!"

Oh, the fool-she should have obeyed immediately. Katherine slapped her face. The tip of Frederick's prick quivered.

"I shall commence exercising you soon, Caroline. Do you understand?"

"No." My sister's voice was small as if she were hiding behind a pew in church.

"You say, `No, Madame."'

"No, Madame."

Caroline can be dutiful. I like her body. It curves so sweetly. Her breasts and bottom are plentiful.

"You will learn," Katherine said. Then Jenny entered. It was a play-a private play, I felt. She stood in the doorway, hands on hips, observing us. Was she jealous? When Katherine turned, Jenny's hands dropped immediately to her sides. There were no words yet. It was a mime.

"Let him rise," Katherine commanded. Jenny smiled. She walked forward and flicked her crop against his straining tool. He groaned in his rising. His eyes were haggard.

"You may choose," Katherine told her. Jenny tossed her head. She looked from one to the other of us. She strode -strode to Caroline and pulled her forward.

"Please no," Caroline said. Her feet skittered, dragged. Her free hand pleaded to the air. The chaffeur had turned to face her. He had tucked our dresses up sufficiently tightly for them to remain so. I wanted to kiss Caroline's bottom. The cheeks are firm and plump. Her pubis pouts.

"Bend her over the trestle," Katherine said.

Caroline shrieked. Jenny had hold of the chain from her neckband and pulled it tight, forcing her over. Caroline's shriek dropped like a fallen handkerchief and lay there, crumpled and used. Her back was bent until she was forced to place her palms on the floor. Her bottom mounded. The sweet fig of her slit showed.

The servant waited. His erection remained as stiff as ever. There was excitement.

"Dip!" Katherine said.

There were new words. I was learning them. Display -dip. His eyes burned. Caroline's hips were high. He took them, gripped them. Rebelliously she endeavoured to twist them but he held her. His lips moved. I wanted words to come-a revelation-but no words came. His loins arched. The crest of his penis touched, probed.