First training

CHAPTER TWO

I was learning a new vocabulary: first “training,” then “presenting,” and now “trials,” but at the time could scarcely have given much thought to them. My entire concern in this moment was that my bottom still stung and tingled and that I had actually been caned, as I thought, for nothing. Indeed, after a few more moments I ventured to say so. My stepmother regarded me gravely.

“Yes, it must seem so to you, Clara, but all has its purpose. You did far better than Sarah, I am pleased to say.”

“Perhaps you caned her harder,” I murmured. I still felt resentful, yet an intense excitement burned in me at what had gone before and the instinctive knowledge that I had not been dealt with vindictively. To the contrary, I felt that her true love for me was now emerging.

“No, I did not,” she laughed, “though in fact I did give her six to your three, but it was not in any event as with you and I.”

I had no need to ask what she meant. Sitting gingerly on the bed, I wriggled my bottom, constantly tightening and relaxing my burning cheeks. Those who read this may wonder at my sudden advancement at my age. Girls of tender years can indeed be led, but they also have a greater instinct than males of similar age. I was being led, but not misled and little by little my confidence in asking questions increased.

“Why did you cane Sarah?” I asked. Without replying immediately she drew upon the bellpull which summoned Smith, who glanced at me somewhat curiously, I thought, which caused me to have a little anger at her, though I did not show it. She was about twenty-three and reasonably comely, having a fresh country complexion, a narrow waist and good hips.

“Her bottom is fair to be caned or at least leathered,” my stepmother remarked after she had instructed the maid to bring up wine. I was flattered to be handed such remarks and even more so that I was to be allowed to tipple. Smith returned as quickly as she could, perhaps wishing to overhear something she should not, but in that was not successful and, departing, banged the door a little which caused my stepmother to say that she would pay for that.

I hugged myself at that remark. Perhaps it was that Papa had been too weak with us that I turned the more eagerly to Julia, whose strength and strength of purpose was apparent. She, knowing this, took less advantage of it initially than she might have done, for in such scenes as followed, I-being seemingly impressionable and indeed even submissive-might have appeared as a more central character if such had been her wish. I wanted to ask desperately whether she had been lovey-dovey with Sarah as with me, but as moments went by there was no need. The very inflexions of her tone told me that I was her chosen one and of course I gained great pride from this.

“Why did I cane Sarah? I would not reveal such a confidence to anyone but you, my pet, nor must you think that anything we say or do together will ever be revealed to a living soul without your knowledge. I required to know of Sarah two things: whether she has been handled yet and whether she has seen a cock. I know you have not and believe you. Sarah very foolishly took umbrage and was impertinent. She is overproud, Clara, but thus also easier to handle than she thinks. I had some trouble in putting her over and removing her drawers.”

I tried to imagine such a thing. Sarah was slender but taller than I. Unconscionably I giggled and asked if she struggled much.

“The discipline I brought to her was not as I might have wished it for it was needful to grasp the nape of her neck and hold her down. The cane did not have its proper reach. Even so, she knew its sting all right. As to Robert, it may be another matter.”

“R… R… Robert!” I exclaimed involuntarily. He was approaching nineteen and a fair, muscular boy.

“I have not dealt with him yet, darling,” I was told and was softly kissed. “I shall do so in quite another manner. Do you wish to share a secret?”

I nodded eagerly. There were too few secrets in my life, except those I pretended that I had, and the question met my youthful yearning neatly. My hand was taken and warmly clasped. To my pleased astonishment it was even raised to her lips.

“I am taking such a chance with you,” she sighed, to which I responded vehemently that she was not. She laughed and asked slyly, “Does your bottom feel nice now?” I nodded, for it was true-there being a most pleasant and electric tingling now-and by gently squeezing my cheeks together I gained a most delightful sensation. Side by side we sat on the bed with her arm around me. “When I fingered you, you did not jerk away as Sarah would have done. I was so pleased, Clara.”

I blushed and bent my head, but did not answer. Had it been anyone other than she it might have seemed horrid, but I had to confess to myself that the subtle titillation had really given me pleasure.

“I did not mind,” I said shyly.

“You know that your Papa does not actually share this room now, for I found it not always convenient. Of course it does not mean that I do not love him still. I can be quite ardent when the mood takes me, I promise you,” she said frankly, “but having separate bedrooms does provide certain conveniences of privacy. I do realise that you have not thought of such things, but it is best to make you aware of them and besides, we are going to do a lot of things together now, are we not?”

“Oh yes,” I replied eagerly, for I was utterly flattered at such confidences and being treated as an equal. Again my instinct told me that I was alone in this, though having greater innocence than might be suspected from my narrative, I did not suspect what was to come.

“Listen carefully then, for all hangs initially upon your confidence and your co-operation. This evening I am going to handle Robert as I believe he needs, for I will not have your sister, nor he, nor your sweet self go into the world untutored. Immediately after dinner your Papa will be playing cards with some friends of his. I have given him permission so to do. You will excuse yourself and come up here. The dressing room adjoins and I will leave the door ajar. You will place yourself within and observe all that passes through the crack in the doorjamb. You will make no sound nor betray your presence until after I have dismissed him. Should you do so all will fail. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I breathed. All doubts as to our complicity in such matters had vanished.

“Very well then, I believe you. I shall be an anchor and refuge to you, Clara, in the months ahead,” my stepmother averred solemnly, “but you had best go down now or Sarah will become inquisitive. Say that we have been discussing needlework.”

I giggled and put my hand to my mouth. The wine had gone down very pleasantly within. “I promise,” said I and moved to the door, whereat she rose and stayed with me.

“You will see Robert’s prick tonight,” she said gently. I gaped. My hand slid from the doorhandle.

“Wh… aaat?” I gasped, but received only a laugh in response. Her hand smacked my bottom lightly.

“Go on with you,” she smiled and pushed me out. There upon the broad landing I stood in a daze. All seemed as but an hour before-the cypress trees framed through the window where the stairs turned, the polished bannister, the almost cathedral like quiet of the house, its many rooms mainly empty and with closed doors. A scent of lavender came to me from a china bowl on the windowsill. Sarah, who was reading in the garden, would ask me pettishly what I had been at. For a moment I turned my head back but my stepmother’s door was shut and looked forbiddingly so.

In what a mood I waited for the evening! Having no trepidation for my brother in our stepmother’s hands, I felt safely detached from what was going to pass and very excited. Indeed I found myself looking very naughtily at that part of his person where his trousers hid his cock, which was certainly something I had never done before. There is a special thrill in being made an accomplice in such matters, but withal I was calmer than I thought I might be.

At the appointed hour then, I slipped upstairs and hid myself as I had been told. There was no fear that Robert would at any time touch or open the door to the dressing room which gave immediately on to the bedroom. I had not been in there before and was fascinated by the several chests it contained together with two wardrobes, a couple of armchairs and various items of my stepmother’s clothing laid casually about. There were patterned stockings of black and grey, several corsets with lace frills, long boots, garters, and much else to tempt my fingers. While waiting in the silence that surrounded me I lifted a chemise and a corset that were crumpled up together and saw beneath to my profound curiosity a small black whip that had not one thong but many-like snakes, I thought. The thongs were thin and plaited, being no more than some twenty inches long and attached to a handle of ebony which was serrated for grip. It looked strange and alien and yet I could not help but touch the handle and wonder a little that it should lay so openly there.

Then footsteps sounded and my stepmother entered alone. I wondered if the venture were not to proceed for she moved about the bedroom for a moment and then opened the door where I stood.

“Be quiet, be still and do not move no matter what is said or done,” she said and with that all but closed the door again in such a manner as left a gap for me to peer through. The bed ran parallel to the wall where the door was and she seated herself upon the side of it in such a position that I could not fail to see her. Then almost immediately came a knock to which she responded in a clear voice.

Robert entered then and closed the door which added to the fraughtness of the moment for myself at least. Then, as she patted the bed beside her, he came fully into view, looking I thought a little pale and his face full of wonder.

“Sit!” my stepmother said sharply and, as he did so, adjusted her posture so that her curving hip touched his. His complexion flushed then and his hands clasped themselves together nervously. He knew not where to look and seemed to wish to avoid her eyes. Smiling, with no little condescension in her face, she laid one hand upon his upper thigh, making him start. “Are you nervous?” she asked. A perfect thrill shot through me then for I divined instinctively that something had been said and done between them before and that I was about to share in a secret that would otherwise have been hidden from me. As she spoke she used her other hand to raise two fingers beneath his chin and draw his face around to hers, at which he most distinctly blushed.

“No,” he quavered, but I knew him to be lying.

“You have no need to be. Remember what I have told you, Robert. You have but to obey me and all will be well. Do you not wish to obey me now?”

He bit his lip. I could have sworn that tears sparkled in his eyes. Bereft of speech, he nodded, though the movement of his head was constrained by her touch.

“Robert-answer me!” Her voice was level but sharp, her bosom rising and falling visibly beneath her grey and white gown that gave full prominence to her breasts and allowed their upper, milky surfaces to be seen in all their swelling glory.

“Yes,” he replied, his voice thick.

“I beg your pardon, Robert?” Again her steely tone.

“Y… y… yes, Mama,” he croaked and again a thrilling sensation ran through my veins.

“That is better,” she purred. “You must give constant thought to everything I tell you, for you will be guided and instructed now by none but me. Do you wish to pay penance now?”

Robert’s face suffused, his hands trembled, for in that moment I distinctly saw our stepmother’s forefinger extend itself where her hand lay on his thigh so that it passed just once over his genitals. A sound that could only imply assent came from his throat. At that she stood up in such a position that she was facing me and no more than eight feet from the small opening through which I peered. It seemed then that all heaven waited for what was to occur next.

Robert rose in turn, his shoulders bowed. First he removed his jacket and, while she stood supremely silent and upright with her feet placed apart, he folded it and placed it on the bed. He was shaking, as I could see. I thought perhaps that she was to cane him, and yet her posture did not indicate it, for the back of her legs were close to the edge of the bed and she gave no hint of moving.

“Down, Robert,” she then intoned and he moved as might a puppet, with a shaky stiffness in his limbs.

There, before my astonished eyes, he stood before her, head bowed, and then sank slowly to his knees so that his forehead all but touched her skirt. Gazing directly at me then, she smiled a little and-raising her skirts to just above her knees where her black stockings glistened-threw them right over Robert’s head so that he was enveloped as within a tent.

“Now,” she commanded.

Eyes glazed, I saw a movement of his knees and back that betokened that he had moved further into her. Indeed, her eyes half closed and her lovely mouth for a moment assumed a petulant look. I knew then that Robert’s face was pressed against the most intimate part of her person, only a small part of his calves, his ankles and feet showing where the broad skirt had cascaded down over him. Her legs being well apart, she held them thus for a moment and then to a muffled groan from my brother she clipped them quickly together so that his head was tightly gripped between her thighs. Her hand then moved down to where the bulge of the back of his head just showed and she pressed upon it, not gently but demandingly, bringing a snort from him.

Dumbstruck, I could not really conceive what was happening save that our stepmother looked glorious and victorious in her stance, her hand held firm to him and her shoulders back, her face slightly flushed and lifted. Her hips moved a little and then stayed themselves. Once more came a groan from Robert, for evidently her thighs had tightened against his ears and I could well imagine the ruffled rims of her garters there.

Suddenly she jerked. “Ah! not your tongue, you little beast! I shall whip you, Robert, for that. Keep your mouth open, and your tongue well hid.”

Then did both her hands clamp themselves against the back of his head, her legs parted anew and she threw her head back, a look of perfect pleasure on her face. I could hear faintly the gasping of my brother’s breath. A full minute passed and then another. Stepmama’s beauteous expression looked soft and fulfilled, I of course being quite dazed but not a little stirred and excited by this strange, strange event. Then with sudden decision she flipped up her skirt from over him, stepped back and immediately let it cascade down to her ankles while the red face of my brother-or rather in the first instance his flushed neck-came into view.

“Up!” she commanded him and, trembling more than ever, he staggered to his feet, whereat she took his shoulders and spun him around so that he stood in profile to me.

I could not help but let my eyes seek where I knew they were to do so and saw immediately the considerable hump in his trousers. Thereupon, our stepmother passed her hand lightly over it, standing as she was face on to his left shoulder. He gurgled, started and stared straight at her door.

“Show me, Robert. Show Mama,” she said quietly. Robert’s hands moved. With shaking fingers he prised open his buttons one by one, I holding my breath as each was loosed. Finding him too slow, she gave an impatient tug at his shirt just above the waistband of his trousers which seemed to act like some sort of trigger or release, for then out sprang his cock in full erection, the crest positively glowing with pride and I drinking in every inch of the fleshy stem.

“Good,” my stepmother said quietly. Poor sweet Robert, I could see his legs shaking still and his face high flushed. A gasp escaped him and his head quivered as in ague, for her fingers then ringed it lightly, ran up and down the throbbing stem and released it so that it quivered its pleading to the empty air. His face was sheened with perspiration still and his brow positively glistening.

“You like the scent of me, do you not, Robert?” she asked, and he nodded.

“And the taste of me?” This time she laughed, but not cruelly. So saying, she grasped his stiff weapon tightly and then again let it go.

“Y… y… yes, Mama.”

“One day, Robert, if you are very good and obedient, I may remove my drawers for your exercises. Would you like that? No, do not answer, for I know your rising lust. How wicked you are and how you must be punished for it!”

A rippling laugh escaped her and however bizarre the situation was I could not help but feel a thrill of deep affection at the sound. Her eyes met mine again deliberately through the crack between the door and the frame and a little smile as of pride and pleasure wisped over her ruby lips.

“Now show me your balls, Robert.”

At that he pushed a little frantically at his trousers, let them slide down and was so uncovered to just above his knees where they crumpled and hung. His shirt being tucked up, I could now see all. His testicles hung like two rich plums close beneath the root of his erection which seemed to me not lewd but beautiful to see with its mingled white and pinky colour and the rubicond head from which his foreskin was drawn tightly back.

“Has Sarah seen it?” she asked and made him quiver terribly as she passed alluring fingers underneath his balls.

“N… n… no,” he stuttered.

“You are well hung, Robert, for your age. Be mindful that your prick rises well when you think of me, but do not play with yourself nor make yourself come for your shirts and sheets and kerchiefs are ever being examined and my wrath will truly fail upon you should you disobey. Guard your liquid treasures, Robert, for such moments as I ordain and I will judge you a good boy. Have you a question to ask? You are permitted one, as I told you in the summerhouse of late.”

The summerhouse! Had she meant to say it or was it a slip of the tongue? I recalled now her strolling there once or twice with him but had thought nothing of it, thinking her presence with him but a maternal one. Now perhaps I knew that its walls held secrets that I longed to know.

“M… m… may I k… k… kiss you, Mama?” stammered he, though not daring to turn his head but facing ever forward.

“What a request! With your naughty prick up and your balls out? What would the world think of me? Would you have me raise my skirts while you do it and press my thighs to yours? Well?”

“N… n… no.”

I felt truly sorry for him. His expression was utterly forlorn, yet at the same time I was seized by a feeling that his behaviour was at least unmanly. There was no tie of blood between them and despite the disparity in their ages he might well in the circumstances have risked a kiss, even though it meant a caning. So my befuddled thoughts ran. I both loved him and yet felt a distant contempt for him which, had I but known it, was exactly the concoction of emotions that she wished to engender in me.

“You bad boy,” our stepmother said softly and then, placing one hand beneath his bare buttocks so that her forefinger distinctly moved between them, took light hold on his straining penis and frotted it gently, causing his mouth to gape and a low moaning sound to issue from him.

“In a little while, when you are gone, Robert, I shall remove my drawers, which you will find well warm and musky with my scent, and will toss them quickly on to the landing. You will wait there and catch them and may take them to bed with you if you wish. Would you like that?”

Her voice, so tender again, stirred my heart anew. Her hand continued to rub, lightly and maddeningly, I have no doubt.

“Yes. Yes, Mama,” he croaked.

“Very well-cover yourself and go. Be quick on it. I may exercise you again tomorrow if you are good. Beware that you do not spill your lust into my drawers, for I shall know of it. You may suck upon them, but that is all.”

I heard all in a daze, conscious of a melting moisture in my own most intimate garment and unable to tear my eyes from my brother’s rampant pego until it was fully covered and his jacket on. Turning away from him, our stepmother waved her hand airily in dismissal, at which he literally slunk out and closed the door. I then burst out, unable to contain myself and fell into her embrace.

“Oh, how naughty!” I exclaimed involuntarily.

“Wait,” she laughed, “let me give him his little treat.” Most boldly then she doffed her drawers, easing them off over her bootees. The crotch was damp as I well expected to see it. With almost a giggle she waved the cotton before my face, bringing a deeply feminine effluvia to my nostrils, opened the door a little, tossed them out, and closed it. A scurrying sound came to our ears and she laughed and said, “You see!” Then her expression changed and became one of seriousness.

“All men and boys are so if properly taken in hand,” she said, and asked-as though I were much older than my years-“did you not know?”

I bit my lip, feeling embarrassed at her question yet wanted withal to appear bold.

“It is too soon for you to understand,” she said gently, “but I mean to progress you quickly. The choice is simple, Clara. You may live what Society is pleased to call the normal life. You will marry, suffer the boorishness of your husband, become infinitely bored and wonder what to do with all your days. As you grow older he may desert you for other women. Do you wish that?”

“Oh, no!” I must have looked more deeply concerned than I felt for she kissed me all about my mouth.

“Robert has a good cock, has he not?” she asked. Before I could think of how to frame a reply she went on, “I cannot let it remain unmannered, you see, and by that I mean that he requires training, as all males do. Some females, too.” Her eyes twinkled. “It is a precious thing to be able to guide the destinies of those who would otherwise live haphazard lives and became so dull that they bore all about them. Robert is really happier than he has ever been for he waits upon my ministrations and knows that I will finally comfort him. I have given him a direction and a purpose, you see, and have concentrated his mind wonderfully, if I may use dear Dr. Johnson’s phrase. Stern and remote-though also sometimes teasing-I may seem to him, but were I to leave him to his own devices he would soon begin to poke every girl in sight. He would come too quickly and afford the girls no pleasure. In a word, he would be uselessly ruttish. That would not be good, would it?”

I shook my head, so persuasive were her words and so urging her tone. Most of all I wished to know Papa’s place in all this and how we might keep our secret from him, for all three of us had now been in her hands.

She saw the wonderment in my eyes and said carefully, “There are mysteries, are there not? Does it not make life more exciting? Think on it.”

“I don’t need to,” I said impulsively, whereat her eyes glowed.

“I truly believe you do not, Clara. I judged you well from the start. You display neither bewilderment nor incomprehension. Truly were you born to the part I mean to have for you-that of a Mistress of many households and of many eager souls. Go to bed now. Judge levelly the events of the day. Tomorrow I must begin to bring Sarah to fruition.”

“Oh!” I exclaimed, but there were to be no more confidences that night and I was firmly ushered out. Going to my room I thought again and again of Robert’s waggling cock and blushed-yet it was so nice to see. Perhaps in my imagination I even put my fingers around it as she had done.