First training

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

You cannot expect complete success upon every occasion, Clara,” was the response I received upon telling my tale. So saying she regarded me with a loving smile. “All that you have told me is to your entire credit. You achieved much in a short time. That Maude will waver, I have no doubt, nor that Edwin will put his prong to her and not in a submissive manner that you and I would wish: Even so, you have done her a service. Vivian will share the spoils, no doubt, once she has become accustomed to taking the cock. She may play them off one against the other, though may not come to our ways.”

“That is the pity of it,” I said, though feeling now that I had criticised myself overmuch.

“Do not fret, my sweet. One needs constant enclosures. We may play pretty games here within and have the males entirely to our whim, yet we are bound to limit ourselves by so doing. Even so…” She paused in order to tease me, I knew.

“Go on,” I said eagerly.

“This first period, if I may call it such, has been necessary, Clara, in order that I might train you all fully, but greater pleasures may now be in store for us. Under my guidance your Papa has acquired sufficient wealth not to require him to venture out very often. Our investments are secure, as is our future. There will henceforth be new arrangements here. The males are to be re-accommodated in smaller rooms, their furnishings made simpler-even spartan, I would say. Finding themselves resettled thus, they will know their future more firmly even than now. They are sufficiently docile to obey me, as you know. The larger bedrooms will now be put to other uses. Heaven knows that we have enough. I have, though you little know it, been making the most discreet enquiries as to the forms of entertainment most sought by the gentry. True, I have been taking risks in so doing, but it is surprising how one brings people out when they know that they can rely on one’s total confidence. The gentlemen are easiest to lure, of course. Why should they venture to Paris for entertainments they can find here?”

My expression showed plainly that I thought such words a betrayal, and she laughed.

“Come, come, Clara, let us have a little subtlety in the matter. I use my bait as well as does a fisherman. Wives know not that I have spoken to husbands, nor vice versa. It is a matter of guile, subterfuge, and the enchantment of promises.”

“Oh, you are a witch!” I laughed and hugged her. There was someone, too, I had not forgotten. Her name spilled from my lips.

“Miss Jennifer de Vere Lacey, yes,” responded Stepmama. “I, too, have had her very much in mind. Her history is interesting. She is, unfortunately, an orphan and was brought up by wealthy female relatives who had a penchant for nurturing young ladies. It may well be guessed therefore that she may have been imbued with a preference for the Sapphic pleasures of life, but this I have been unable to enquire into as yet. We shall see.”

“How?” I enquired eagerly, for some people leave an imprint on one’s mind and the young lady in question had unknowingly done so to me. A young female of outward remoteness is ever a challenge and infinitely more so than males of like ilk who turn within themselves, become bachelors and devote their withered lives to collecting butterflies, old coins and the like.

“In an interesting manner, Clara. I have acquaintance with the parents of her husband who revealed to me but recently that they intend to sojourn shortly in Nice where they have a residence. I ventured to declare that I had intended to France myself and, having so beguiled the mother, find myself invited to join them. Jennifer will be there as will her husband. You, my pet, will accompany me to improve your French.”

“Do you mean my French kissing or my French tonguing?” I asked impudently, being scarcely unable to contain myself at the news for I was eager to put the house behind me for the while.

“Those, too! It will be a useful period for Sarah, in any event, for she will have to prove herself here. I have told her that I wish to find alles in ordnung on our return and the males no less obedient to all female whims than they are now.”

“Oh, when are we to leave?” I asked excitedly.

“By steamer from Dover on Friday. We have but four days to prepare and many frills and furbelows to buy, for I am determined we shall not be outdone in fashion by the French ladies. Were I, of course, an ordinary wife who had to seek her husband’s permission-and one that I am sure would not be forthcoming-I might also have to beg him for the financial means to travel and sustain myself. What a joy that I do not have to do so!”

“Yes!” I exclaimed and even in such a simple matter of economics saw even deeper the wisdom of her ways. She had reversed what Society is pleased to call the natural order of things, which when considered is a wholly unnatural one wherein males strut the world as lords and masters and ladies can but peep at them with seeming awe from behind their veils or fans. With this event my stepmother also made me aware that in removing people from their normal environment one could the more easily pluck at the strings of their emotions and desires, for in other surroundings the first trappings of convention are easily discarded.

However, I must hasten my narrative forward lest the reader become tired of my philosophising.

The father of the brood, Horace de Vere Lacey, was a man of slightly raffish aspect who had a penchant for fast fillies of both the four-legged and two-legged kind. Having been a little in his cups when in the presence of my stepmother prior to our departure, he had boasted not a little of his prowess both on the field, in the bed, and even upon the dining room table where he hinted that he had put many a housemaid to his prong. That he should so tell a lady of relatively brief acquaintance may appear astonishing, but my stepmama had such a way with her that by bringing a certain expression into her eyes and remarking, however lightly, on the carriage or form of a young woman-whether a servant or not-she could extol many a confession from an unguarded male whom she could make feel quite a devil in her presence.

With ladies she was quite other at first and would act protectively towards them against the males, which they were quick to discern while liking much her total femininity. Thus even Jennifer softened in her presence and would dart her eyes occasionally at her when my stepmother was not looking.

The sea passage was a little rough, and Lady Millicent de Vere Lacey taking it somewhat badly was so well attended to by both of us that she several times clasped our hands as if to aver a lifelong friendship with us, remarking several times how mature and thoughtful I was for my age.

As for Jennifer’s husband, Clive, I marked him well. He had avoided military service and worked in the War Office, or at least did so from time to time in the lax fashion of many a Civil Servant. I discovered him also to be a year younger than Jennifer, which placed him at twenty-three. He was clearly the apple of his mother’s eye and Jennifer would frequently wear a distant look when his Mama saw to the tidying of his cravat or straightened down his jacket.

Such details boded well, however, as will be seen. Jennifer looked no less beautiful, patrician and austere than I remembered her. I quite enchanted her by remembering whole verses of my favourite poetry, a form of literature which she inclined to like also. Once settled in the house at Nice a friendly atmosphere was enjoyed and nothing on my stepmama’s part was hastened. The bright, clear and sunny atmosphere of the Alpes Maritimes enlivened us all, not least Mr. de Vere Lacey who was as often to be seen sitting adjacent to Jennifer as he was to his wife. Jennifer in turn seemingly took less interest in her husband when he was in the presence of his Mama, and herein lay the clues to our adventure.

One afternoon, our host declared his intention of visiting a perfumery which was in part owned by an acquaintance of his. I normally would have been delighted to see a place where many delicate scents were concocted, but sensed that my stepmother wished it not, and for the best of reasons. During the past day or two she had taken much to talking with Millicent of her son and in a most admiring manner so that the lady was even more pleased with her and preferred her company, as it seemed, to her husband’s.

Thus, to cut a long story short, our host was suffered to depart with Jennifer who promised to bring us back such phials and bottles as could be obtained from a factory which would be pleased to advertise its wares. And thus, too, was the scene set for a first, pleasant diversion. With the departure of the two-and I wondering much how Jennifer would comport herself with her roguish father-in-law (though I did not doubt her coolness in his respect)-we sat for a while in the garden imbibing chilled champagne and then retired within to the cool of the drawing room where Clive seemed quietly pleased to find himself in solely feminine company.

My stepmother indeed was quick to remark upon this to his Mama when for a moment he absented himself from the room.

“How quiet and well-mannered he is,” she observed as though with pleasure to his Mama. “You must have brought him up well, my dear, and nurtured him with loving care.”

Millicent, so quick to be pleased in this respect, replied modestly that she had done her best and much wished him ever at her side.

“Yes, what a shame it is that such presentable young men are torn from one,” my stepmother said. “His mode of dress is a model of propriety. I vow that in all truth he prefers your company to any other. How dutifully he stands when you tidy him and pat him all about as though he were a young boy again. It was ever your pleasure to dress him nicely, I am sure. He is not so brashly masculine as some and indeed, if you will forgive me for saying so, I have often thought that young men of smooth skin and pleasing visage were better dressed as we than in stuffy coats and trousers. Why, I remember my own dear Mama who would frequently attire my brother in my drawers and chemises rather than have him cavorting about in sailor suits or velvet jackets and trousers.”

Millicent uttered a little laugh and brought her hand to her mouth. “Oh! Was that really so? I have often wondered at such things. Indeed, there was a time when Clive was but fourteen or so that I myself put him for fun into his sister’s things. Oh, but I fear dear Clara will be shocked at this!”

“I? Why no,” I declared, “for to the contrary I am much taken also by such things. Oh, Stepmama, may I tell her?”

“Of course, my pet, we are in private company, are we not, and no one to disturb us,” came the careful reply. I then, leaning forward, made my eyes to shine into those of our hostess, as though complicitous with all her rising thoughts.

“My dear brother, Robert, is of the like,” said I, “for several times I have put him into stockings, drawers, chemise, and much he liked it.”

“Did you kiss him, then? Was he sweet enough to be kissed in his soft finery?” my stepmother asked archly, giving Millicent quite a joyful look as though my confession laid a seal upon the matter.

I bit my lip, looked coy, glanced down and made so much play of being shy upon the matter as intrigued Millicent.

“We would not blame you, dear, for I am sure he indeed did look sweet,” she murmured to a sound of approbation from my stepmother.

“He was most fervent when I did so, though I scolded him for his boldness. Being dressed as a girl, a strangeness came over his character for I had perfumed him and made him sit most obedient while I saw to his good looks, the flouncing of the chemise and the fit of his drawers. When indeed I scolded him, a meekness came over him and he obeyed my every wish so that I truly had him docile as a little kitten,” said I, then gazed at both nervously as though I had said too much.

At that moment, as chance would have it, Clive returned from his perambulations upstairs, entered, looked upon us all and hesitated, divining perhaps that we were in more private conversation than had hitherto been the case. Upon that, my stepmother took the initiative.

“Clive, dear, would you wait a moment in your room?” she asked, and so softly did she put the words that he blushed, mumbled something, and withdrew again. Then, turning to Millicent, she went on, “We may now speak in greater confidence, my dears, for such amusements have a great excitement for ladies of our temperaments. Clive’s very obedience is a token of what we have been saying, is it not, Millicent?”

The lady sighed, causing her impressive breasts to rise and fall. “My husband ever interfered,” she said complainingly.

“Tut-tut, of course they do-if permitted to. I have known such cases and have also known how the intruding spouse might be quietened in the matter.”

“Have you?” Millicent leaned forward quite eagerly. I had no doubt that the turn of conversation was exciting her much. My stepmother stretched herself langourously.

“It is something of which we may speak later, Millicent. For the nonce let us attend to the matter of your dear son and what I divine to be his secret, dearest wish. His wife, though senior to Clara in her years, is yet too young of mind to understand such matters, or perhaps is insensitive to them.”

Millicent sniffed and I saw clearly a deep jealousy there. “Yes, I believe so,” she replied stiffly, my stepmother then gazing upon her with an air of great sympathy and understanding.

“Will you permit me, Millicent, the greatest of favours? I intend to take myself upstairs for a while. A few words with your son, perhaps. You will excuse me?”

Not waiting for reply, she was gone and so smoothly that the room seemed emptied of her in a second while I observed the conflicting emotions that passed across the face of Clive’s Mama. “What… what do you think she is at?” she asked me in a low tone of great secrecy so that I was hard put to avoid smiling.

“Perhaps it is as with my brother Robert. He was… he was very naughty sometimes when clothed as I wished him, yet-oh, I must tell you the truth! — tears of delight came into his eyes when first I soothed my stockings up his thighs, drew up his knickers and smoothed down his chemise. Was it not the same with you and Clive?” I asked with careful shades of shyness in my voice. “Oh, please, will you not tell me for I felt quite naughty myself and yet so much excited that I put convention to the winds.”

A flush rose in Millicent’s cheeks. My youth perhaps inhibited her. “There are moments that others would consider unseemly, I suppose,” she ventured. “Dear Clive, he so liked the feel of silk all about him. You put… you put your brother’s knickers on yourself, my dear?”

I evidently was the one to make confessions, for then she could hide behind my words in a manner of speaking and play upon those as would further her own excitement while, as it were, keeping her own hands clean in the matter.

“I undressed him as one might a little boy, though in truth he was seventeen. How immodest you will think me, yet I much enjoyed it, for all his parts were vibrant at my touch and so remained when I drew his knickers up.”

“My dear, how truly naughty of you and yet…”

She was given no time to finish the sentence for the door then opened to admit my stepmother. “All is well, Millicent. Will you come up, and you, too, Clara?”

A flush then rose deeper on the face of Clive’s Mama. Her hand went to her throat. She rose, toying with her pearls. Hesitance lay full upon her and yet her eyes were truly lustrous with an inner glow. “All is well-as you would wish it, Millicent, and I-come,” my stepmother said and extended comfortingly her hand. Nothing then was said as we entered the hallway and ascended the stairs, though rarely was such an air of conspiracy upon three females. The door to the bedroom inhabited by Stepmama stood half open. Without hesitation she entered and drew us in. There in a further corner stood Clive, his back to us. Shy as a girl, he was attired in one of my stepmother’s frilly petticoats and indeed nothing else save, visibly, for stockings. At our entrance his shoulders quivered, his head not turning. The look on his Mama’s face was a perfect picture. Her breathing sounded heavily.

“Will you not be seated, both of you?” we were asked and two armchairs indicated by the fireplace. A solemn silence then obtained, Millicent having a better view of her son since my back was partly to him.

“It would be foolish, I felt, to delay a matter of great desire to us all, Millicent. Clive, you may turn and face the room.”

A shuffling then occurred and he did so, his feet uncomfortably squeezed into a pair of my stepmother’s shoes. His lips were rouged, his eyelids shadowed. A look of perfect wonderment was on his face. Upon being almost face to face with his Mama, he blushed and hung his head.

“So timid, is he not-but that should be the way of it,” my stepmother purred. “Raise your petticoat, Clive, and let us see your drawers. Ah! do they not look well on him, despite his protrusion,” she smiled, for the outline of his erection was clearly visible beneath the pink silk of the knickers which he displayed by holding out the sides of the petticoat in fanlike fashion, well drawn up. “Of course, he was in two minds about it, Millicent, but your own future coaxings and demands upon him will further the matter. Jennifer will not have brought him up so well, I am sure, despite her probable endeavours. Will you show him your drawers, Millicent, or I? I would have matched the colour of his to yours had I but known it.”

Millicent’s face was suffused. Her hands clutched at the arms of her chairs, yet nothing in her aspect denied the rising pleasure in her frame. Seeing her apparently bereft of words, my stepmother laughed not ungently and said, “Very well, then, I shall show him mine. Step forward, Clive, a little closer to me.”

He swallowed, he gulped, he did so, still holding up the petticoat since he had not been told to lower it, and this aspect of his immediate obedience pleased me much. Millicent in earlier years had perhaps advanced him more than she thought or had cared to confess. A few steps brought him between our chairs and the end of the bed where my stepmother stood. Bending and gathering up the hem of her gown, she then raised it slowly-not to the total disinterest of Millicent’s sly eyes. Her rounded knees being revealed in fetching, patterned stockings of a dark shade of blue, there came then in our view her swelling thighs, her broad and pretty garters, pale rims of thighs and then above the puckered legs of her directoires which were baby-blue in hue. Being well mounded to her bottom, they displayed her rear cheeks perfectly.

An awed silence fell upon the bedroom. My stepmama crooked her finger beguilingly at Clive and beckoned. He hesitated for but a second or two then shuffled forward again, his eyes on her eyes, for they so commanded him. A trembling hiss came from his mother’s nostrils. She appeared to have some difficulty in breathing and sat bolt upright in her easy chair. Toes to toes he then stood with my stepmother whose bosom rose and fell in her excitement, she wreathing up her gown about her waist.

What a strange sight it was and yet how enervating! I wriggled with pleasure and gazed in awe.

“A certain lewdness, Millicent, excites them,” murmured my stepmother without taking her eyes from his. “It is requisite in all training. Lower your drawers, Clive-exhibit yourself!”

Millicent’s hand went to her mouth. Her eyes came out on stalks. Clive’s hands trembled visibly and sought for the waistband of his drawers, his face now flushed. My stepmother stood unmoving though with the slightest of taunting smiles about her lovely lips as inch by inch was now displayed the rubicond head of his stiff penis, followed by its straining length and then at last his dangling balls. A quivering sigh escaped him and he let the drawers glide down to nestle at his ankles.

“Clive-bring it to me,” my stepmother intoned in her lowest voice which yet caused the very air to tremble with expectancy. The demand in her tone was undeniable. He had but a few inches to move before her breasts moulded to his chest. His knees bent awkwardly as if he sought to position himself, his face just slightly averted from her own. Then, with a little gritting cry from him that sounded as might a voice heard far across some fields, he touched his knob up underneath her crotch so that the rounded plum of it quivered just against the silk of her drawers. His jaws clenched. How dearly he yearned to ram it up to her and feel the lips, the pad of deep curls there, yet knew he was forbidden so to do!

“Good Clive,” my stepmother murmured. “Stay still now as you are, however much your knees may tremble.” The glow on her face was lovely to see. Clearly she could just feel the quivering of his crest up to her crotch, yet no more than that. A quarter of an inch-no more-extended its fine gap between the privates of the pair. A whimper came from Clive but was ignored, my stepmother’s head turning gracefully sideways to Millicent.

“You trained him well, my dear. It needed but a small touch or two from me. See how his jaws clench and his teeth grit. The mature female is offered and yet forbidden. Would you have me milk him for his efforts?”

Perhaps Millicent did not know the term, though guessed it. Her eyes answered for her and my stepmother nodded. “Rise then, at the least dear,” she said to Millicent and stepped back to a great quivering from Clive’s hard stem. “Remove your drawers and hold them out beneath you,” she snapped to him while I assisted Millicent in getting up, though in that moment she scarcely seemed to know where she was. My stepmother, however, extended her hand to her and drew her close, then kissed her cheek. “It is you who must handle him, my dear-see how patiently he waits. Has he not been good? Would you have him dressed again as a male and returned to his fond wife?”

“I will see to him!”

Millicent’s voice cracked out suddenly and as though protectively. Clive hung his head again, the drawers now looped in his hands and held in front of him beneath his stemming cock which, being of full girth, was pleasant enough to see.

“Do it then in full sight of us, Millicent, for you will never otherwise behave as he would have you do.”

“I know. Ah, the dear boy, look how he stands-so patiently as years before he did,” Millicent declared, now having become thoroughly bold and evidently itching to take hold of his tool.

It is a matter of taste or habit as to how the female performs this solicitous act which also is one that underlines the male’s submissiveness. Millicent chose to do so by standing immediately behind him and thus bringing his bared buttocks to press into her belly. My stepmother then smiled and nudged me, our senses all aflare, as with one determined hand Millicent worked her left arm down between them and, gliding her hand beneath his bottom, cupped him firmly with her fingertips under his dangling balls. Then, with her right hand, she took purchase on his upright prick which caused him much to moan and quiver while the drawers that he held formed a sort of basin shape beneath him. His breathing came deeply then as did her own as she commenced to frig him, her beringed fingers forming a loose ring of undoubtedly divine pleasure around his fervent cock.

A look of determination now was on her face, as I saw. The fingers of her left hand beneath him tightened, causing him to jerk. His head hung down, as though a naughty boy’s. His calves trembled mightily and he made to move his prick within her clasp but at a sharp “No!” from her he desisted. Clearly, Milicent was a little more advanced than we had thought. Her attractive, rounded face was set. Determination in her was uppermost. I wondered indeed how Clive had ever escaped her clutches, for his enjoyment was evidently intense. His eyes rolled and the most fervent cries escaped him, though muffled as they should have been.

“Hold the cloth properly!” she scolded him, referring to the drawers, though I sensed then that in the past a towel or some such must have been used.

“MA-MA!” he groaned.

“Are you coming?” she demanded.

“In a… in a… in a minute… OOH! AAAARGH! OOOH!”

“Come on, come on, you bad boy. You know I do not give you too long about it.”

“MA-MA! HAAAAR! OOOH!” He trembled mightily, his prick strained up, the crest gleaming and swelling more than ever. Her motions quickened, her fingers passing full up and down the entire length of his rampant weapon. His mouth opened and his eyes were glazed. Then with a shuddering sigh he released the first jet of his sperm. High it soared and then fell in an arc to splash upon the waiting drawers. Another came, another. His thighs wobbled but she held him still.

“Come, darling, come-oh, you naughty thing,” she breathed, her face pink with excitement while we stood still and took our quiet observance. Another pellet of white bubbling sperm followed and then another. Then came the trickles and the final pearls. His shuddering sighs were music to our ears. A thick pool of pearly come lay in the drooping knickers and her task was done.

“There!” she breathed victoriously and her voice all atremble while Clive suddenly wrapped the soaked garment round his cock and jerked. His final tribute then spat out and so weak did he seem that he almost fell. “Go to your room, Clive!” was heard then from his Mama and without looking back took his laggard footsteps hence and closed the door. My stepmother clapped, a look of shining pleasure on her face. Before Millicent knew what she was at she was thrust upon her back down on the bed and my stepmama upon her.

“Have you not had it in you?” Millicent was asked.

“No!” The face was a woman’s but the voice a little girl’s. I could not restrain myself but fell beside them and raised her skirt. Her stockings gleamed. My stepmother half rolled from her, held her down and meshed her lips to hers.

“You will, though.”

“I will not! Oh no! AH!”

Her cry came as my lips came to her dell, pushing aside the loose crotch of her drawers as I did so. Her quim was rich and moist, salty and musky to my seeking tongue.

“We shall make you, Millicent!”

“You will not! Oh, never! OH!”

The sound of passionate kissing came from above. I felt blindly up my stepmother’s legs while tonguing Millicent. It took her not long to come in her excitement. Thrice she coated my tongue and lips with her delirious spendings and then lay limp, her praises softly uttered by my stepmama.