Emily: Or, the voluptuous delights of a once-innocent young lady

CHAPTER 10

The bed had black rails-bars, indeed-at either end.

Surmounted on the corners were brass spheres that shone like four small suns. The coverlet was white, and fringed with pink: long tassels that might tickle me. Two heavy wardrobes brooded. In between them was a dressing table, busy with perfume phials and flasks of scented oil and pots of cream. Above the bed where the pillows became neighbours to the wall hung a black whip, its short and tapered tail curled like a serpent. A broad, tall mirror on a swivel-stand faced inwards to the bed from the far corner and reflected all. The door closed, Harry took off his cravat and coat and placed them on a chair. I waited, licked my lips, and felt my mouth grow dry. 'Go to the corner-there, close to the mirror, head bowed, facing in, your dress pulled up. I wish to see your legs and bottom first', he said.

His words shocked me. I had expected first a tender kiss, the protestations of desire and admiration. I had already seen myself, face in his shoulder, being comforted. 'You mean to treat me badly, as the others did?', I asked, but did not turn my head to look at him. 'I mean to love you, Emily-hence you will show obedience.

It is the only way with girls who have not been put to trials. I shall adore to suck upon your tongue, to lave your breasts with kisses, peck your nipples. Stiff will they rise, I have no doubt of it. You have a look of innocence and lewdness both, which well becomes you. Your sister Jane is similar, but has more boldness in the movements of her hips, as you must learn henceforth to have'. 'Oh! You mean I am to do it with anyone!' 'To the contrary, my pet, you will do it with whomever you wish-will say nay to several, will say yes to some, but first, with me, must learn submissiveness. Constance has tongued you, and you have seen her sister corked'. 'I have… I have… I have no need to learn', I muttered. How I longed for him to take me in his arms, and yet I felt before him as I used to with my tutor who would fondle my tits occasionally the while I blushed and read my broken Latin from a book, ignored his touch, but felt the swelling, proud. 'Go to the corner, Emily-obey!' I slouched as Jane slouched, and felt mutinous- which was precisely what he intended me to feel. Head bowed, the dark flowers of the wallpaper underneath my eyes, I ruffled up my gown, exposed myself, my swelling globe, the offered cleft-was told to remain so, held my feet together and thus stood in an utter silence that he would not break. I heard him casting off his clothes, boots falling with a clatter, heard the slithering of trousers, knew his nakedness unseen. The bed creaked, and I hunched my shoulders-waited, waited on commands. And yet in waiting I experienced precisely that which he intended me to do: the quivering sensation that a female knows when she offers up obedience to the male. 'Turn! Walk towards the bed-stand by the side of it-expose yourself, he uttered. 'Why do you make me do?', I whined, heard my own whine and felt ashamed of it. More so, perhaps, than showing him my bush, hairs fluffed, dark-brown upon my creamy skin. His penis, purplish at the knob, was full erect and wavered up his belly. Doubtfully, and showing doubtfulness in my slow steps, I moved until my stocking tops touched the bed's edge. Placing his arms behind his head, his legs apart to show his balls, he asked me when I last was whipped. I had not been, I said. He tutted, shook his head, and bid me hold my legs apart, yet the nature of his admonition showed amusement rather than dismay. 'You will pleasure penises tomorrow night the better for the instructions that I give you, Emily. Bend forward, place your palms upon the bed, and take my pego in your mouth, but do not touch it with your hands. No hesitations, dearest. Have you not sucked one before? It matters not-you have to learn the taste of it and feel the throb upon your tongue'. I bent, but hesitated, wished to disobey. No sooner had I inclined my body with unwillingness than he reached and seized my hair, caused me to yelp, then urged the plum between my open lips and held my neck. I gurgled, spluttered. O how meaty was his pulsing rod! Three inches, four, slid in upon my tongue, the swollen crest eased by my warm saliva. Inside myself I cried at the humiliation, as I thought of it, yet knew the hypocrisy of pleasure, too. 'More, Emily! Suck on it gently!' Up and down my head was bobbed by his impelling hand, the lewdness of the act repelling and enchanting me at the same time, mouth-moisture trickling down his tool which the more vibrant seemed the more I sucked. Then with such sweet brutality as made me gasp, he wrenched my mouth off, pulled me down upon him, falling sideways as I did, and took my mouth. 'Harry!', I sobbed.

'My darling, yes'. My belly quivered, rippled, on his prick.

My pussy hairs grazed at the root of it, my gown and my chemise dragged up by his quick hands to sting my nipples to his chest. He rolled me, rolled me then, until I lay beneath, eyes wide, my stockinged legs apart. 'D… d… d… do it to me, do!' I sobbed, my eyes, cheeks, corners of my mouth all kissed, he laughing, breathing heavily, one leg between my own, prick pulsing passionate against my stocking top. 'You will now be obedient, Emily?'

'Oh yes, I will!' My tongue intruded, whirled around his own, but he withdrew his mouth and knelt up, leaving me bereft, cock waggling stiffly to my view. 'Turn over, then, kneel up-your bottom thrust'. 'Not that way, Harry-no!', I whined, reached up my arms to draw him down, but squealed dismay as he then smacked my thighs.

'Turn OVER-bottom up!', he snapped, slapping my hips, I jerking this way, that. Tears started in my eyes. I looked dismayed, put on a woeful look, but had myself forced over and my bottom raised. Without preamble then he ringed my waist and hugged me into him and smacked my bared cheeks heftily, I squealing, 'No! Oh, Harry, don't!' Nape of my neck was held, nose buried in the pillow. Was I always to be handled so? SMACK! SMACK! 'NEE-AAARGH! Please, don't-please don't!'

My scorched cheeks wriggled to his blasting palm. I tightened them and pinched my nostrils, closed my eyes. I was in purgatory, so I thought, instead of love's warm haven. Still, without remorse, he smacked my offered orb and brought the stinging deep until the flames licked inbetween. 'OH-WOH-WOH-WOH!', I sobbed and clenched my fists, pressing them through the pillow to the bolster's harder bulge beneath. I felt the heat irradiating through my cheeks and knew for the first time the sense of uttermost exposure and submission that it brings.

'Remain -or I will bring the whip to you', he said, then slowly shuffled off the bed, I with face hid and squirming still, but did not dare to move. I heard a clink from near the dressing table, then Harry returned and knelt again behind me on the bed.-'Be still; I am anointing you', he said. I gasped, jerked, jittered as his finger, oiled, roamed carefully around my puckered hole and soothed warm lotion in. His hands then roughly spread my calves apart.

'A pity you were not attended to at home in this wise as most young girls are', I heard, then gritted out a squeak as the warm crest of his stiff penis-slippery in turn with oil-pushed in its helmet to invade my bottomhole. 'GAR! NO!', I sobbed. Both James and Constance, not to say her father, too, had slipped their fingers up me there, but this was bigger: the huge stave of flesh impelled itself relentlessly within until I felt my breath expelled, clawed at the pillow and beseeched his grace or mercy, or whatever word came quite haphazard to my lips. 'Obedience, Emily!', he growled. Ah, that our language-richer surely than are most-had more elan, more glitter (call it what you will) when lending itself to descriptions of the acts of love! I was being sodomised, was being buggered, and how wretchedly rough and aggressive are those words- how crude their connotations, and how harsh they sound! Better to say that I was being pistoned, for I have heard it since called such, or being 'corked' which, at the least, has a greater homeliness to it. Many are the maidens I have seen, long since, having their derrieres plugged, and none emerged from it with tears, though often breathless, having spent the while the penis moved within their nether holes. One panics at the first. The pity of it, but one does, unless long fingering and sweet caresses first have done their work and charmed the girl to offer it, hard nippled, langourous, as she becomes. One wriggles, but that aids one's conqueror. As for myself, I reached my hands up, gripped the bed's iron rail and pushed back pettishly, the movement serving only to embed his corker deeper. 'NOO-HOO! NOO-HOO!', I petulantly sobbed. A strangled 'AH!' escaped me as he thrust my head and shoulders roughly down, forced me to loose my hold, then rooted in until his balls nubbed underneath my nest. 'Ah, Emily, what a fine plump arse you have!', growled Harry. Pulsing in my yielded hole, which so expanded magically and clenched his tool in a warm, spongy grip, he moved his poker gently back and forth, creating such sensations that I all but swooned, felt my head feathery and light, my bottom bigger, bulging to his flesh. I jerked and quivered, hips clasped by his palms, yet dared not move too much. The stinging that I first had felt began to fade. I felt my clitoris a-tingle, then his right hand cupped my hairy notch and soothed it gently, causing me to squirm in such a manner as delighted him. Drawing his throbbing shaft half out, he held it thus and fingered round my spot. 'There, darling, there. You have your first prick up your bottom. Contain it, squeeze upon it, roll your hips but gently and not overmuch'.

'Oh, Harry!' Yet my wail was not then of despair. I felt it slip in, out, my passage eased by Nature's lubrications. Snorting softly, I permitted him to part the oily lips of my plump quim and felt emergent tremors of delight. I moaned, I whimpered, but I could not speak. Huge clouds of cobwebbed words were in my mind. I could not speak. Rude words, obscene words, danced within the hollows of my mind. Papa had cupped my bottom, kissed my lips. I know the purpose of his asking me if I had learned to kiss. It was to become a secret password in my life. 'I am withdrawing it, my love. Be still, and then turn over when I do. Lie with your arms extended in a cross, your legs apart and knees drawn up'. 'Ooooh!', I uttered as his long, thick piston then withdrew. It hesitated at the rim, held there-the knob just bulging in me-then slipped out-left me forlornly empty, to my great surprise. Laggard in turning, I obeyed. The ring of my probed rose felt open still. My bottom smarted on the coverlet, he looming over me, descending till his penis brushed my belly and then nosed my curls. His hands fell on my wrists-extended as they were-and held them down. I had almost come already and was nigh to doing so as the proud crest parted my lovelips in two rippling waves, causing my back to arch, whereat he plumped his full weight down on me, mouthed lips to mine and eased his penis slowly in my nest. 'Your stockings and your garters feel delicious, Emily. Rub them against my thighs. You beauty! I adore to fuck a girl half dressed'. I heard but dimly, all my being concentrated on the insurgence of his cock within my quim. I rolled my bottom, moaned, received four inches, five-and ever on. Clawing his back, my trembling knees apart, I laboured his tongue wetly with my own and sobbed increasing pleasure. Fuck. I had never heard the word before. It came with harshness to my ears, and has a roughness I have never liked. Better to be 'threaded', 'nested-in', or even 'poked'. Yet even so, the word has a crude magic of its own that I admit to having given way to sometimes in the thrall of it.

'Ask me to fuck you, Emily!' He held me still, arms straight, wrists gripped, as though I might not surrender to love's toil. Then he released his hold and cupped my bottom with both hands, raising it from the counterpane and ramming full within so suddenly that the soft SMACK! of our loins sounded. 'HAAAR!', I gasped. My head hung back, mouth slipping upwards and away from his. His face, no longer handsome, was demonic. I was mastered, pinned. Faint liquid sounds came from my cunny as he worked his piston back and forth.

'Fuck, yes!', I spluttered, 'fuck me, Harry, do!' 'Whisper it, my love, against my lips'. I whispered, whispered ever on, and counted not the times I said the words, abandoned as I felt. My cunny bubbled, spurted, spilled, salivas mingling and my arms about his neck, my bottom swinging, cradled on his palms. The bed squeaked its delight beneath my form, breath panting, nose to nose and mouth to mouth, his pulsing penis grooving in and out. 'I am coming! Oh, my love, too soon! Forgive me, but your beauty-AAARGH!' 'Oh, Harry, yes!' I felt the first thick, gruelly spurt-the next-another then, his penis ticking madly as he spewed love's juice between my spongy walls, and I in a pale blur of wonderment, pursued by howling devils of delight, came in my turn again and thus anointed him, though his sweet agony was clearly such that I doubt he felt my thinner drops. Expending then, expending the last pearls, the final squirt of juice, then we collapsed, I hugging his thick corker in my dell and squeezing on it lovingly. Long thus we stayed, his balls squashed up to me, my bottom heavy on his resting palms that dug into the sheet beneath. 'You have known all now, Emily-or almost all- the fond delights of it', he uttered, drawing out the shrinking slug of his much softened pleasure-rod. 'Yes', I murmured, felt both shy yet bold at the same time and made to close my legs but was affectionately smacked to leave them open to his view, he lying then beside me with my face into his neck, my belly rippling in the aftermath, my cuntlips pouting, frothed with sperm and my own spendings. 'Tomorrow night there will be more than one who will seek to take his place between your legs. You may say nay to one, but not to both. You understand?' 'Yes, Harry'. Inbetween my sighs we kissed. Softly we kissed- raindrops of kisses on my parted lips, my dress all bundled up above my breasts whose tingling nipples told their own tale of delight. He would not have me silent, though, for long, and brought me to confess all that I knew, had heard, had done. Even to Jane, and Julie, too. 'Your cousin, then, imbibed the manly juice between her lips? And Jane was trestled? Yes, I understand how that was done, for Aramintha does the same trick with some girls, and then I perforate their bottoms while they squeal.

Though not for long they squeal. No more than you, my pet', he laughed, and I a-blushing, saying that it was not true of me-or would not be in future. 'Is it not cruel to whip?', I asked, and glanced up at the one that hung above, remembering how my father-in-law had scourged my globe, though in retrospect it had not hurt that much. 'It is not cruel, my love, to spur a maiden to surrender if she proves too coy to drop her drawers upon command. A girl should be nurtured at an early age, and given pride in both her muff and her bottom cheeks. The whip induces-is not meant to torture her. Heaven forfend it should! The cane is more admonitory. As to birches, when the twigs are softened they but make the bottom wriggle and the ardour rise. The girl's cheeks feel fuller; she is ready to receive. Frequently the parental penis is inserted first-but not in your case'. 'Not in mine, no. Harry, you were first. You surely know you were'. 'Indeed-and that I treasure, Emily. Aramintha has no jealousy when two are tingling, cock to cunt. You may think it strange, but such is so'. 'I do not think it strange. The pleasure is divine and all should share it, should they not?', I asked naively. 'You wait upon my affirmation even though you have it in your heart? All who have lustiness upon them should resolve their hot desires and do so with such eagerness as makes their bodies melt for it. Feel no remorse for consummations that are mutually sought, fulfilled. Be as a bird that flies and roosts, and flies again, and questions not the sky, nor trees nor earth'. 'Yes, Harry; that I always wished to be, and now…' 'Harry, have you not finished yet with the dear girl? Do not exhaust her. It is time to eat!', came Aramintha's voice from down below, I starting up, but Harry bid me take my time, repair my hair and look my best. 'Do I not always?', I riposted. Now that it was over I felt flirtatious, eager for the next. He, answering cheerfully, 'Beyond all doubt!', we made ourselves respectable and ventured down to find Jane buttoning up her dress. 'Was it nice? Was nice, yes? Was it nice?', asked Aramintha, tilted up my chin and kissed my lips. I said, 'Yes, oh it was!', as if we had but picnicked, gathered flowers, or paddled in a stream. Jane said, 'Oh, Emily, do up my top button, please- I cannot reach it'. And with that, a warm enclave of homeliness enfolded all my sins.