Anonymous - Beatrice

Of a sudden then I was flung against him. His prodder, hidden by his breeches, stung my thigh. In his bear hug I was lifted, swung. The edge of a waiting couch came against the backs of his knees. In falling he drew me with a simple motion over his lap, my jellied breasts exposed in turn by the upwreathing of my dress. "No, Uncle, no!"

My gasp came in the upsweeping of his hand which blasted down on to my naked bottom.

I yelped, I cried. The burning was immense.

"No, no, no, NO!" I sobbed again. My training had left me. Fire blazed in my cheeks. My legs kicked. I clawed at the carpet. The splatting of his palm came down again and again. I was woman and child. My bottom reared and flamed. Pearls of tears cascaded down my cheeks.

"Ya-aaaah!" I screeched again and again until he stopped and I lay limp, helpless to his caressing. The big palm glossed my globe, his fingers delved. I burbled out my sorrows. His free hand sought my dangling gourds.

"Get up, Beatrice!" Katherine intoned.

Blear-eyed and wriggling like a fish I came upright. Her arms clasped my waist tightly, allowing the insensate wriggling of my bottom to continue. Her mouth sought mine. I choked. Salt tears were at my lips. Her voice coaxed me, murmuring upon my mouth, breath to breath. A haze of wine and perfume. She had raised her dress. Our stocking tops rubbed together. The cream of my bubbling bubbled to her lips. Cunningly she parted her legs, rubbing her slit against mine, her hold not lessening about me.

"How oily your quiet-how stiff your nipples, sweet."

I gulped her words within my mouth. Wildly they swam, my head invading. Gulping to pulping of lips and tongues. Hot tongues in my bottom licked my groove. Long she held me, coaxing, kissing. My torso shimmered. A stickiness between our bellies grew-a mist of perspiration. In silence my uncle sat behind me waiting.

The stinging in my bottom eased, became a throbbing. Lost in time and space I stood, Her mouth was my haven. A strange torpor seized me. I felt my legs parted until I stood straddled. Katherine's fingertips quested my globe, parted its cheeks.

"Let him see-let him see, Beatrice. He has stilled you, has he not-after your whipping?"

"St… st… st…" I stuttered. Her fingers clawed the opening of my cheeks. She held me but loosely. An insolence of power.

"Stilled, yes, Beatrice. His rod in your bottom. A single plunge within. We call it that. Move backwards now. Move slowly, inch by inch."

In the cobwebs in the comers were there words? Released, my hands caught empty air, fastened upon the wraiths of yesterdays. With a small shriek I fell upon my uncle's lap. Exposed, his penis upthrust 'twixt my thighs. My bottom churned, uplifted, fell-the velvety knob of his penis-prober against my belly.

I bounced, I burbled, twisted and was held. Then Katherine bent over me. My chin upraised. I felt him jerk. Her working fingers round his penis worked. Her knuckles grazed my belly in his working. Her eyes were laughter. Her hand moved faster. His hands beneath my armpits weighed my breasts. The bud of my slit swelled, my rosy clitty. His balls chattered against my bottom.' A finger sought my nest and rubbed.

My uncle groaned. His teeth bit lightly into my shoulder. His palms burnished my stiffened nipples. I felt his loins move in their strength. Of a sudden, thick jets of sperm spattered my belly. I melted, died. I moistened his balls in my spending. My breasts swelled. My belly was wet with his come. The last drops sprinkled. I swayed back to his swaying, legs apart.

"Go," Katherine said. She pulled me up, my dress highwreathed. The door mouth opened, swallowed me. There was a sound of kissing behind me.

His come dried quickly on my skin. Some had spattered the tops of my stockings. There was quiet in the house as always, as if everyone had left. From the landing window I looked out upon the lawn and saw Caroline lying on the grass. Jenny was kissing her.

I lay down on my bed. The ceiling darkened and lowered until it enfolded me.

I ran through caverns and saw magic lights.

Aunt Maude wakened me in my early morning warmth. She brought me tea. I sat up and drank from a translucent cup.

"You were bad yesterday-do you know you were bad?" she asked. She fondled my hair while 1 drank. I did not know what to answer. Often in those days I did not know.

My aunt drew down the sheet and tutted. "Your stockings are laddered." she said. I had not bothered to take them off. She rose and took new ones from a drawer. The sheet was laid down to the end of the bed. Caressing my legs she drew off my stockings and replaced them. The new, black ones were of openwork style that came to the very tops of my thighs. "It is better so," she said and waited until I had finished the tea. "You will be a good girl now, Beatrice, will you?"

I said yes with my eyes. My eyes were soft with the morning. My aunt removed my nightdress and attended to my face with powder and rouge.

"Maria was bad-do you remember?" she asked.

I said yes. My voice was soft with the morning. It was yesterday or the day before. I had forgotten the day.

"Amanda improves a little. Arabella is properly settled now of course," Aunt Maude continued. She glossed my long hair with a brush. Its bristles tickled my back. "They are not as you are, Beatrice. Turn over now-your bottom up, well up."

I obeyed. I drew my knees up. I was to be punished for my wickedness in the water closet and the study. My wrists were strapped to the sides of the beds where the iron supports ran beneath the mattress. Then my ankles.

"Dip your back properly-present yourself, Beatrice!" Her tone was sharp. When I did, she moved back behind me. I laid my cheek on the pillow and waited. "Such a perfect bottom-you surpass us all," she breathed.

The whip was in her hand, taken from beneath my -pillow. The thongs flicked out, making me arch and rear like a filly. I turned my face inwards and bit into my pillow. The tips stung and searched me-messengers of seeking. They sought my crevices. Their small mouths nipped and made me writhe. Heat expanded. Tendrils of fire-hot in their seeking. The hissing hissed to my bold cheeks, my pumpkin, skirting my offered fig, my honeypot. Much as 1 squirmed and gasped the sensation had its bitter sweetness. The straps held me.

A sound beyond. The whip fell. My face rustled in its hiding in the pillow. My uncle entered. I knew his steps, the heavy footsteps falling. I struggled at my straps. My hips weaved. My eyes closed, opened, closed. The bed sagged between my legs-my legs splayed wide. "No, Uncle, No!"

"Be quiet, Beatrice!" Her hand stroked my hair. "Slap her hard, Thomas, if she wriggles. She must learn!"

I gargled, gurgled, squealed. Thong-kissed, my cheeks were parted. The knob of his wicked nosed against my O, the puckered rim. Hands clasped my hips and stilled their wayward motions. The rim yielded. I received an inch of throbbing shaft. I endeavoured to tighten. Too late. The piston pistoned. Half his cock was sheathed.

"How tight she grips!" he groaned. Subtle and smooth he urged it more within. "What a bottom of glory-hot hot, how clinging! Your tongue, Maude!"

I heard their lips, the licking. Her hand slipped beneath my belly, fondled the lips of my quim and parted them, seeking my clit. I bucked. The movement allowed my uncle's prick to bury itself farther. Their lips sucked apart. I moaned in my writhings, in his steely grip.

"Aaaaah!" I gasped, my breath expelled. Without warning he had lodged it full within. The long thick prick throbbed deep within my bottom. Leaning over me, his palms cupped my swaying breasts.

My aunt moved back, forcing her way beneath me where I knelt. My head swam. My moistening anus held its velvet grip. Half-emerging, his tool sheathed itself to the full again, emerged, and then repeated the gesture. Sparks sprinkled in my belly. My hot cheeks churned against his form.