Anonymous - Beatrice

I accorded her no pleasure other than three dozen biting flicks of the whip. The enforced bending of her knees -together with the orbing of her bottom-as she fought to keep her heels dug into the stirrups, provided the very aspect of eroticism I had long envisaged of myself.

There would be a small platform in future behind the horse so that the male could mount it at the appropriate moment and insert his penis while he gripped the weaving hips.

At my command.

I would have it so. There would be no exercises nor entertainments nor merriments beyond my seeing or control.

I had entered my domain.

It was a full forty minutes before I released Katherine land drew her up. Her nipples were rigid, her breasts swollen. Following me in with a distinctly awkward gait after the whipping I had accorded her, my aunt released Frederick and motioned him to dress in a side room.

"How many times, Katherine?" I asked softly, passing my hand down between her thighs. The abundance of his sperm made itself felt soapily between her thighs. Some had trickled down and rilled into the ridged tops of her stockings.

Burying her hot face into my shoulder, Katherine mumbled something I could not catch. It would not do. I lifted her reluctant face, watching the sly messengers of pleasure endeavouring to scurry into hiding behind her eyes.

"He came twice at least, I trust?" I asked sternly. Again she wanted to conceal her face but I would not permit it.

Katherine nodded. I had yet to learn myself that it is one of the most satisfying positions, squatted face to face upon a man's thighs. "Yes," she averred thickly. "Beatrice, I must…

"Punish him? Of course-at your pleasure," I interrupted. An exceedingly pretty half laugh broke from her lips, accompanied by a small, emerging "Oh!" that had all the colour and perfume of a budding rose. I drew her dress down as a mother might with a child and soothed her hips.

"You will not make me again?" she asked. The invitation was so blatant that I all but laughed.

"Obedience is necessary at all times, Katherine," I replied softly and kissed her brow. It was damp still with her exertions as were her peachlike bottom cheeks which held a faint mist of moisture between them. It would have pleasured me distinctly then to have guided another manroot into her bottom while holding her down beneath my arm. Perhaps she read the wish in my eyes for she simpered and pressed into me.

"I should never…" she began. I knew her intention. It was to apologise to me for what had gone before. Perhaps she thought I had come in disguise to test her.

"You may have Jenny as a handmaid-for today, Katherine."

I moved away quickly and left her. She would have had me stay, I felt-perhaps to afford her some obscure sense of comforting. One must keep one's distance, however. I had turned her about neatly and left her, so to speak, with one foot in midair. My immediate concern was with Amanda. She had dallied long in the garden with Caroline. Nevertheless, their would-be pleasing efforts were evident from the array of blooms which stood on the kitchen table.

Maria was adjusting some of them. She gazed at me rather shyly as I entered.

"You are happy, Maria?" I asked. The bloom of health seemed indeed to be upon her. 1 had a certain taste for the voluptuousness of her curves which her deliberately tight and abbreviated costume enhanced. She nodded. A veil of uncertainty was in her eyes. Her fingers flustered at the flowers. There was a new ring on her finger, I noticed. It was one of no great account. My uncle had given it to her, I guessed. On my questioning her, she confessed it.

"He mounted you, Maria?"

The question was so direct that she knew not what to answer. A tiny bubble of saliva appeared between her lips which were richly curved but smallish.

"As Frederick did in the stable, Maria?" I insisted. Beneath her black skirt 1 could envisage the ripeness of her cheeks in their waiting.

"My husband don't know, M'am," she stammered.

"Answer the questions, Maria," I said softly and stayed her hands from their toying with the stalks of the blooms. Her palms were moist.

"I was ashamed, M'am," she choked. The expression in her eyes was ill-disguised. It followed not the twisting of her lips. She would lend herself, I sensed, to whatever I intended.

"Did you buck or struggle, Maria?" I gripped the bun of her hair which was coiled up with hairpins. One loosened and fell between my fingers.

"No, M'am, I daren't. Miss Katherine she had the whip, in the stable, and the Mistress she warned me not to move afterwards when I was in the dining room over the table."

I was but half listening. Though not indolent, she was learning her pleasures in the sly way known to such women. An occasional protest cleared her conscience, as she saw it. Her husband, she said, was a good man, a quiet man, like herself nearing thirty. He worked as a farm labourer. I released her hair.

"You will come shortly into my service, Maria-as also your husband. There will be work for him to do around the house. I am having a site cleared for stables. You may perhaps be my Stable Mistress, and it so please me. You have learned a little of the handling of females and you are acquiescent. You will learn under my instructions."

I doubted whether she knew the meaning of "acquiescent" any more than she would have recognised a fivepound note. I have since given field-girls a guinea piece for their intended services and seen them gaze at it in wonder.

Words unspoken danced upon Maria's lips. From the brief description she had given me of her husband, Ned, he would be amply able to service both Caroline and Jenny when required. Maria-given over to such pleasures as I occasionally permitted her-would soon grow used to it.

Amanda I called within. Lolling upon a rug on the lawn, Caroline stared at me in some wonder. I gave her a smile. "Later," I called. It would comfort her for a while. In my uprising was her safety, as she knew. The memory of being bound to her in our nudities was still one of my sweetest. We would play games of remembrance, perhaps. I would find a way. She would become my favourite handmaiden, an adored one. In the attic would be laughter again. I would brush her hair and fondle and pat her bottom, coaxing. In her shaftings would be the whisperings of sunhazed lust. The bees' wings on the windowsill would stir. I would make colours to enchant her eyes. Filled and fulfilled she would be led down the ladder again, her legs in their slimnesssweet uncovered still. The gold between her thighs would glint with sperm. In her richness.

"Is there richness, Amanda?" I asked. Knowing not, she did not answer. There was awkwardness in her gait as I led her up. Her small, tight bottom was attended to daily and yet still it jerked skittishly at the first stroke of leather or birch.

In my bedroom I stilled Amanda with my hand and made her stand, feet together, while I sat on the bed.

"This will be your first new exercise-to stand still on command. Will you do so, Amanda, if you are no longer caged or birthed?"

She nodded, an arising of hope in her eyes.

"What is it you seek?" I asked. "There will be the strap still."

"I do not know," she mumbled. In my intuitions she was a relatively poor subject, though I knew not why. Rising, I moved around her and passed my hand up beneath her skirt to see whether or not she would flinch. She did not. I urged my thumb against her rosehole. Aunt Maude inserted the dildo twice daily in her now. It had improved her, I noticed. A tiny assenting movement of her bottom made itself felt against my thumb.

"You do not mind the strap?" I asked. I moved the ball of my thumb up and down between the elastic cheeks.

Amanda shook her head in a manner that was at least uncertain. Perhaps she feared to say no-or perhaps pride held her back. There was a possibility by now that she had begun to accept it with a surprised sense of pleasures-the stinging a challenge.