Frank and I

XVII

A couple more years passed. During the whole period, I had amused myself in various ways, but I had never set up another establishment in St. John’s Wood, or anywhere else. When in England, I had lived chiefly at Oakhurst, but I often travelled on the Continent; I had also made a tour round the world, and as I was in no hurry, I had taken eight months to complete the journey, I did not meet with any startling adventures, but I saw some queer phases of life, and I embraced many women of various nationalities. I had started westward on the trip, and while passing through the United States, I poked American girls in all the big cities from New York to San Francisco.

In the Hawaiian Islands I had seen a bevy of dusky, nearly naked damsels dance the “hula-hula”; and when the lascivious performance was over, I fucked one of the dancers on a mat in a native hut.

I stayed for some time in Japan; and when in Jeddo, I paid a couple of visits to the “Voshiwara”; on each occasion poking one of the highly-painted, wonderfully got-up girls. But I preferred going to the tea houses in the country, and amusing myself with the “geishas,” and the pretty little, olive-skinned “mousmies,” all of whom were full of fun, and up to every kind of trick. On one occasion, however, I astonished a “mousmie.” She was a very young and particularly plump little creature, with whom I was playing while she was in a state’ of complete nudity.

After the usual toying, I suddenly laid her across my knees, and smartly spanked her fat, round little bottom. She was utterly amazed; hardly knowing whether to laugh or cry; such a thing had never been done to her before, though she was well acquainted with all the other ways by which men excite themselves with women.

When I put her on her feet, she stood gazing at me, with her black eyes full of tears, at the same rubbing her bottom with both her hands. Then, as the smart gradually passed off, she began to smile, and finally she burst out laughing. Then I poked her!

When in China, I spent several days in the city of Canton, and visited two or three “flower boats” on the river. But I did not fancy the small-footed, almond-eyed, yellow-skinned Chinese girls, so I only poked one; and I did it merely that I might be able to say I had “had” a Chinawoman.

In India I tried the merits of various Hindoo, and Mohammedan girls; and in Ceylon I sampled the Cingalese damsels. And I will here state, that in my opinion there is no better poke in the world, than a young, clean, healthy English girl.

During my stay in Canton, I managed to see the bamboo applied to a culprit. The Chinese “boy” whom I had employed as a guide was an intelligent fellow named Ah Wan. He could speak “Pidgin” English; and after we had visited all the sights which are usually shown to foreigners, the “boy” asked me one day, if I would like to go to the execution ground, and see, as he expressed it: “Two pieccy pilate mans head chopped off.”

Two pirates he meant to say, but the Chinese can’t pronounce the letter R. They always turn it into L.

I replied that I did not care to see that sight. But I told him that I had a great wish to see how the bamboo was used; and I added that I should like, if possible, to see a female culprit punished. Then I asked him if he could manage that for me. Not a sign of surprise showed on Ah Wan’s impassive countenance, when he heard what I had said. He nodded his head, saying, “Alice light. My can do that pidgin velly easy, along Mandalin cote. One pieccy day, my takey you.”

By which he meant: “All right. I can easily manage that business for you at the Mandarin’s court. I will take you some day.”

The Mandarin’s court is somewhat analogous to an English Police-court; but the Mandarin’s power is far more absolute than that of a police magistrate in this country.

A couple of days after my talk with Ah Wan, he made his appearance at my hotel, with a chair and two coolie bearers.

“Come along a me,” he said briefly.

I got into the chair; he gave the coolies some directions and we started off; Ah Wan walking beside the chair. In about half-an-hour we reached the court house which was a large wooden building, to which the public appeared to have free access. The Mandarin sat at a sort of high desk, surrounded by soldiers and other officials; and there were a number of people of all sorts and conditions in the court.

Ah Wan interpreted, as well as he could, all the proceedings, end I saw several prisoners sentenced to various punishments by the Mandarin; but not one received the bamboo, and I was beginning to think of going away, when a woman was brought in to receive her sentence.

Ah Wan informed me that she was a boatwoman who had been detected setting fire to a boat A very serious crime in Canton where thousands of families live in boats on the river.

The culprit being a working woman, was not “small-footed.” she was a stout, strong-looking wench about twenty-five years old, and not bad-looking for a Chinawoman of the lower orders.

She was neatly dressed in the usual loose, blue cotton jacket, coming down over her hips; with wide trousers of the same colour and material; and her long, coarse, black hair was twisted in elaborate coils, and secured with four long, broad, brass hairpins which stuck out a couple of inches on each side of her head.

The Mandarin sternly addressed the culprit, who stood stolidly gazing at him; but after he had spoken a short time, a look of intense fear came to the woman’s face; she burst out crying, and stretching out her hands, made what I supposed to be a piteous appeal for mercy.

Ah Wan whispered to me: That piecey woman catchee plenty bamboo.”

The Mandarin made a sign, and three of the soldiers seized the wailing culprit and laid her face downwards on the floor, with her arms stretched out at right angles to her body. Two of the men squatted down, each holding one of the woman’s arms; the third man, also squatting down, held her ankles tightly together.

A fourth man drew her loose jacket up to her shoulders; then putting his hands under her belly, be untied the strings of her trousers, and pulled them down to her heels; thus laying bare the lower half of the woman’s person to the gaze of the people in the Court.

The pig-tailed spectators looked on stolidly. To them it was no uncommon sight. Women were often flogged publicly in Canton.

The culprit had a broad bottom, with large fleshy cheeks, her thighs were very big, and her legs were thick. Her skin was smooth, and of a yellow tint which was not pretty to a European’s eye.

But after all, it was a feminine bottom; and it was going to be flogged; that was enough for me; and as I gazed at the naked, fat, albeit yellow posteriors, my cock stiffened slightly.

Two men, holding in their hands the bamboos, now knelt down, one on each side of the culprit. The instruments of punishment were pieces of split bamboo about two feet long, and three inches broad; and the strokes were administered with the rounded side. At a signal from the Mandarin, the punishment commenced, one man beginning at the upper part of the woman’s bottom and flogging downwards; while the other man began at the middle part of her thighs and dogged upwards. The strokes were inflicted with considerable force; each one, as it fell on the woman’s plump flesh, making a resounding smack, and marking her yellow skin with a broad red stripe. She wept and screamed, and struggled violently; but the men who were holding her, kept her in position; and the men who were flogging her, laid on the strokes in rapid succession; so that the two bamboos soon met in the middle of her bottom, and by that time the whole surface of her skin had become crimson.

Then they again began to go over the woman’s writhing posteriors in the same way as before; one man flogging down, and the other man flogging up. The bamboos cracked like pistol shots on the victim’s quivering bottom; the big cheeks opening and shutting, as she alternately contracted and relaxed the muscles in agony; while as the punishment went on, her shrieks became loader and more piercing. When the bamboos again met, the Mandarin made a sign; then the two men ceased flogging, and the other men let go their hold of the woman’s limbs; bat she remained lying on the floor, squealing and twisting herself about in anguish.

She had received, in all, fifty severe strokes-I had counted them-and her bottom looked like a huge piece of liver; but not a drop of blood had been drawn. No one took any notice of her; and after a time her crying subsided to choking sobs which shook her whole body and made her fat buttocks quiver like jelly.

Straggling to her feet, she palled up her trousers; and with some difficulty, for she was trembling all over, she tied the strings round her waist. Then two soldiers took her by the arms, and led her oat of the court, sobbing, moaning, and hardly able to put one foot before the other. She was taken to prison; for in addition to the flogging, she had been sentenced to a year’s imprisonment. I left the court, got into my chair, and was carried back to the hotel Then I gave Ah Wan a good “cumshaw,”-a present-and he departed, his face looking as inscrutable as ever.

Two days afterwards, I left Canton for Hong Kong, where I caught the mail steamer, and in due course arrived in London.

Since my return to England, three months had passed; during which period I had been living quietly at Oakhurst; but I could always get a poke whenever I felt inclined, as I had at my disposal one of the parlourmaids named Mary.

This girl had not been in the house at the rime I went away; but she had been engaged by the housekeeper during my absence.

Mary was about twenty-three years old, a tall, good-looking, well-made girl, with dark brown hair and neat feet and ankles. I had taken a fancy to her, a few days after my return home; and had managed to get hold of her without the least difficulty, as she had often been fucked before she entered my service. However, she was a fairly good poke, and she had a nice, white, smooth skin, firm bubbles, and a big plump bottom; moreover she was particularly clean in dress and person, so that I was never afraid of turning up her petticoats at any moment. I cannot touch a girl if she has on dirty underlinen.

Mary was also well versed in the “arts of love,” and she would let me do anything I liked to her except in one respect. She would never allow me to whip her in any way.

One day, after I had given her a good poke; I asked her why she was so afraid of a little whipping. She told me the reason; and she also gave me a short account of her life.

She had been left an orphan, at the age of six years; and had been brought up in a charity institution where corporal punishment was freely applied to the girls whenever they committed an offence of any sort; the little girls being spanked, and the big girls being birched. She herself had been so often soundly spanked when she was a little girl, and so often severely birched when she was a big girl, that now the very idea of a whipping made her flesh creep.

When she was at the institution, it had contained upwards of fifty girls, who were kept until they were sixteen years of age; then they were put out to service; and every girl was liable to be birched, up to the day she left the establishment

There was a regular “punishment parade” every morning in the schoolroom at nine o’clock, when all the culprits of the previous twenty-four hours were flogged in succession, from the youngest to the oldest, in the presence of all the other girls. Everything was carried out in a methodical manner, but the preparations for punishment did not take long, as no drawers were worn by the girls at the institution. The little culprits were, one after the other, stretched at full length on a bench, and well spanked by one of the assistant mistresses. Then the big culprits were, each in turn, held over a high desk by two of the assistants. The matron, who was the only person authorized to use the rod, would then apply the birch; never giving less than six cuts, and sometimes giving as many as eighteen, for serious offences, such as stealing, or indecent conduce. She always flogged severely, and sometimes drew blood. Nearly every morning there was a culprit to be punished, and sometimes there were two or more; and she had seen as many as eight big girls birched one after the other.

I could hardly believe that girls were treated with such severity in a charity institution in these humanitarian days; but Mary assured me that it was a fact; and she added the though it was seven years since she had left the institution, she knew that the discipline of the establishment was still maintained in the same severe way as it had been in her rime.

Then she went on to tell me what had happened to her since she left the institution. When she had reached the age of sixteen, she was put out to service as an under-housemaid in a large country house, where there were three young men, the sons of the master. The three young chaps at once made a dead set at her, and a couple of months after her arrival in the house, she was seduced by the eldest son of the family.

Then she had allowed the other two brothers to “have” her, and between the she had had a lively rime during the two years she lived in the house. She used to get a poke from one or other of the young men nearly every day; and often all three would poke her in one night, each man spending a couple of hours in bed with her.

She had been in two establishments as parlourmaid before coming to Oakhurst; and she wound up by telling me, with a laugh, that in both places she had been poked by the master of the house.

I laughed, gave her a kiss, and sent her away.

A few days afterwards, I was reading “The Times” after breakfast; and in glancing down the column of births, deaths, and marriages, my eye caught the name of Markham in the list of deaths. I hurriedly read the few lines which announced that Robert Markham had died at Wynberg, in the Cape Colony, on the 10th of April; aged 50 years.

It was now the 26th of May, so Frances had been a widow for upwards of six weeks. I put down the paper, and thought, with a mixture of feelings, about my old sweetheart-as I still called her in my mind-and I was surprised that she had not written to tell me of her loss. Then I wondered what she would do now that she was a widow. Would she remain at the Cape, or would she come back to England? and if she did return, and I were to meet her, I wondered what would happen. During the period that had passed since her marriage, I had often thought of her; and now I knew she was free, my old fondness for her revived, and I hoped, some day or other, to again clasp her in my arms.

For days afterwards I expected to hear from her; but no letter came; and as the days passed into weeks without my receiving any communication from her, I came to the conclusion that she had remained at the Cape. The time passed on. It was the end of June, and I was thinking of going to the seaside; when, one morning, I received a letter, and though it bore the London postmark, I knew by the handwriting on the envelope, that it was from Frances. I eagerly tore it open, and glancing at the top of the page, saw that the address was Kensington. Then I read the letter. It was a long one, written in affectionate terms, giving me full details of all that had lately occurred; and asking me to call on her any day that was convenient to me. I was delighted with the letter; as the way in which it was written made me think she was still fond of me. But withal, I was not quite sure that she would let me poke her when we met. However, time would show.

I sat down and wrote a love-letter to her, finishing it by saying that I would be with her at three o’clock next day. I had the letter posted at once, so that Frances might receive it by the last post.

Sending for my man, I informed him that I was going up to London for a time, then I told him to go up to town that afternoon and get everything ready for me at my chambers.

He bowed, and went away without saying a word; but I knew that I should find everything in perfect readiness when I arrived at my rooms next day. Lighting a cigar, I sat down to smoke, with a great feeling of pleasure at the thought of again seeing, and perhaps poking Frances.

Next morning, after an early breakfast, I started for London; and on my arrival there, went first of all to my chambers where I changed my clothes. Then I went to my club to lunch; and when I had finished my repast, I got into a hansom and drove to the address Frances had given me. It was a pretty house in one of the best streets in Kensington. I knocked at the door, which was opened by a neatly dressed maidservant, who took my card and ushered me into a drawing-room, handsomely furnished, and decorated in the most artistic style. The apartment had two bow-windows, the recesses of which were filled with large jardinieres, holding pots of flowers of all sorts in full bloom; and there were also several china bowls heaped up with freshly-cut roses; and at one side of the room there was a deep alcove screened with heavy curtains of Eastern manufacture. Frances always had good taste, and she certainly had made herself a beautiful nest

Presently, I heard the sound of light footsteps in the passage, the door was opened, and she came running into the room. Then all my doubts as to the way she would receive me, were in a moment dispelled. I could tell by the look on her face that she was still my loving sweetheart. Throwing her arms round my neck, she pressed her lips to mine in a long passionate kiss, and strained me to her bosom in a dose embrace, uttering little ejaculations of joy and addressing me by all sorts of endearing epithets. I clasped her tightly, returning her kisses hotly, and for a moment or two we clung to each other in a transport of delight.

Then we sat down side by side on the sofa, and I took a good look at her. Frances was then midway between twenty-seven and twenty-eight years of age, and was therefore in the full bloom of ripe, luscious womanhood. She had grown a little more matronly in appearance, but she seemed to me more lovely than ever. The large limpid, blue eyes were sparkling with pleasure, and her peach-like cheeks were tinged with a delicate pink colour; her lips seemed to be redder and riper; her bosom was fuller, and the curves of her figure were more voluptuous. She was not dressed in the conventional widow’s weeds; but was wearing a black satin tea-gown trimmed with rich lace round the neck, and down the front; her beautiful hair was twisted Into a loose knot at the back of her head; and she had no corset. That fact I had discovered when my arms were round her waist

Holding my hand in hers, she told me all about her life at the Cape.

Her husband had invariably treated her kindly; but they had not had many ideas in common. He had always been deeply immersed in his business; going to his office in Capetown every morning, and not returning till the evening. She had soon made a number of friends both male and female; she had always had plenty of money at her command; she had had nothing much to complain of, as far as her surroundings were concerned; and on the whole she had been fairly happy. Her husband had died a rich man; the bulk of his money was to go to his two children when they came of age; but he had settled upon her six hundred a year for life; and he had made her guardian of the two children. So her marriage had turned out a good thing.

I asked her why she had not written to me sooner. And she replied that she had wished to get comfortably settled in her house before asking me to call She then asked me to tell her what I had been doing with myself during the past three years. I gave her a short account of how I had spent the time, and she was much interested in my descriptions of some of the things I had seen and done on my trip round the world.

Then she said, smiling, and lifting up the skirt of her tea-gown so that I had a peep at her little feet cased in patent leather shoes:

“You see I am not dressed in the orthodox garments. I hate them; but I have to wear them when I go out.”

I laughed, and squeezing her waist through her soft gown, said: “I am very glad you are not got up in crepe. It is hideous to look at, besides being very unpleasant to touch.”

She smiled in an enticing way, so I at once took her on to my knees, and she leant back against my breast, looking up in my face; her beautiful eyes glistening with the look of desire which I had so often seen in the, in the old days. I pressed my mouth to her full red lips in a long kiss, with a feeling of rapture such as I had never felt when kissing any other woman. Then, lifting the skirt of her dress up to her knees, I looked at, and felt her shapely legs which were certainly stouter than when I had last seen them; the plump calves seeming ready to burst through the thin black silk stockings she was wearing.

Pouting her cherry lips with pretended anger, she exclaimed: “Sir, you are very rude! How dare you take such liberties with a lone widow!” Then, bursting into a laugh, she glued her lips to mine and put her warm velvet-like tongue into my mouth.

However, she soon took it out, and said, earnestly: “Oh, Charley! How delicious it is to feel your arms round me again.”

“And I am delighted to hold you in them again,” I returned, kissing her, and putting my tongue in her mouth, for a change; at the same time slipping my hand up her clothes and touching the pleasurable “spot.” She had nothing on under her dress but a petticoat and a chemise. The voluptuous creature had evidently prepared herself to receive a poke. While my hand roved all over her belly and thighs, she unbuttoned my trousers, and for a few moments we played with each other; she rubbing my prick with her soft hand, while I tickled her cunt with my forefinger, making her squirm, and laugh hysterically. I next unfastened the front of her dress, and pushed her chemise down, so as to folly expose the magnificent semi-globes of her snow-white bosom. Her titties had increased in size, but they were as round and firm as ever they had been. After paddling with them a moment, I took one of the rosebud-like nipples in my month and sucked it till it stiffened slightly in my lips; and she seemed to purr with delight; like a cat when being stroked.

Then I stretched her face downwards on the sofa, and turning up her scanty drapery laid bare her magnificent bottom, which was broader, rounder, plumper, and more delicious than ever. I gloated over it, kissed it several times, and stroked the velvet-like, cool skin for a short time. She turned her head, saying with a smile: “Now give me a nice little spanking. Not too hard.”

I was only too delighted to oblige her, so I gently spanked her firm-fleshed bottom, till a pink blush showed on the plump, white cheeks.

Then I stopped. “Oh,” she murmured, “I liked that! The slight tingling sensation was most pleasant And while yon were spanking me, I almost fancied I was again a girl at Oakhurst.”

I turned her over on to her back, and burying my head between her outstretched thighs, I kissed the “spot,” at the same time inhaling the delicate perfume of violets with which her undergarments were scented, and which also emanated from her dean, wholesome flesh.

The subtle feminine odour was delicious, and it seemed to increase my sensual passions, which were already greatly excited. My eyes burned, the blood coursed rapidly through my veins, and my prick throbbed. It was time to go to work!

Separating the closely-shut lips of her little cunt with my fingers, I inserted my prick, and gently forced it deeply into the clinging sheath which I found to be as tight as ever it had been. It had never been stretched by anything bigger than a prick.

Then pressing my lips to her rosy mouth, and grasping the firm cheeks of her grand bottom with my hands, I began to poke her with long powerful strokes. She had always been a warm voluptuous woman, but now she seemed to be perfectly frantic with lust; and the way she bucked up to my thrusts astonished me. Throwing her arms and legs round me, she pressed me to her bosom, uttering little squeaks of pleasure, and exclaiming in gasps, as she bounded under me: “Oh, Charley! Oh-h, — dear-Charley! Oh-h-h! — do-it-slowly! Oh-h! my-love! My love!! Oh-h-h-h!!!”

She could say no more. The spasm had seized her, and she sighed, squirmed, and wriggled her bottom in a most furious way; squeezing my sides with her thighs, and biting my shoulder in a frenzy of lascivious excitement; while the lips of her cunt clung closely to my prick, until it became limp and dropped out of its warm nest

Then we lay, for a few moments, palpitating in each other’s arms. It had been a most delightful poke! I had not enjoyed one so heartily since the day she had left me, more than three years previously.

She, also, had most thoroughly enjoyed what she had received.

After a short rest, she got up, heaving a deep sigh of gratified desire: her cheeks were deeply flushed, and her great blue eyes had a languishing, sensuous look in them. Her chemise had slipped down very low, exposing her large, beautiful titties which were rising and falling quickly, and her long hair had come loose and was hanging in golden coils down to her waist.

She pulled up her chemise, fastened the bosom of her dress, and twisted up her tresses. Then, sitting down again upon the sofa, she looked at me, smiling archly, while I buttoned up my trousers, and arranged my disordered necktie.

When I had made everything as straight as I could under the circumstances, I sat down beside her and put my arm round her waist; while she nestled close up to my side. “Oh, Charley!” she exclaimed fervently. “What pleasure you have given me! I have never had ‘it’ done properly to me since the day I left you.” She paused for a moment, looking a little shyly at me; then she said: “Oh, I most tell you everything; and I shall have to use plain words.”

“Go on. Yon needn’t be afraid of shocking me,” I observed, smiling. She began: “My late husband was fond of me; he also admired me very much, and he liked to see me well-dressed at all times, but more especially when we had a dinner party;-which was a weekly event, and I may say, without boasting, that I was always the best dressed woman at the table. But when he married me, he was in bad health, consequently his sexual power was weak; moreover he was by nature a man of very cold temperament. He had no idea of the pleasant little devices which excite the passions, and add so much to the ‘delights of love.’ He never played with me in any way; nor did he ever manifest the least desire to look at any part of my naked body. In fact, I do not think he ever fairly saw my legs, or my titties, or my bottom. He never once touched me in the day-time; and though he used to sleep with me every night, he would often go a week, or ten days, without poking me. And whenever he did embrace me, he would just perform the act, and nothing more; and when he had finished, he would roll over and go to sleep. Moreover his pokes were not pleasant; as, owing to his want of power, he never could get a proper erection, and therefore it was always a long time before the discharge came. And during the whole time he was grinding away at me, he used to lie with his whole weight upon my body, crushing my belly, and hurting my bosom. And often, after working violently till he was out of breath, and I was sore all over, his ‘thing’ would go quite limp, and he would have to stop. On such occasions, I always felt sick, and faint, and disgusted; for though he had not ‘come,’ I generally had ‘spent’ more or less, without having felt the least sensation of pleasure. So that altogether I did not care for his embraces, as they were really not worth having.”

“They most certainly were not,” I remarked. “No wonder you felt sick and disgusted.”

She continued: “You know what a hot temperament I have”-

“Indeed I do!” I ejaculated.

“Don’t interrupt me, sir,” she said, giving me a playful pinch. “Well then, you can imagine how dreadfully tantalizing it was to me, to lie night after night with a man who could raise, but not satisfy my desire; or at best in a very imperfect way. I used to long for a vigorous man, who could take me in his arms without crushing me, and who could poke me in proper style. I had plenty of admirers, and I often felt very much inclined to let one or another of them have me. Not that I cared a straw for a single one of the men; but merely to slake my lust, which at times nearly overpowered me. Especially after a night when my husband had been more persevering, and more unsuccessful than usual However, I managed to curb my passions. I was never unfaithful to my husband; and no man in South Africa ever kissed me, or touched me in any way. And now I have told you all.”

“My poor Frances!” I said, giving her a kiss. “I can quite imagine how you must have been tormented. But never mind; you will not be troubled in that way now. I am going to stay in London for a time, and will come and see you as often as you like. I think I am still pretty vigorous.”

“Oh, you are indeed,” she said emphatically. Then laughing, and giving me a hug, she added: “I shall like to see you very often.”

After a little more conversation, I asked her what had become of her step-children. She informed me that they were with her, and at present, they were both being educated by a governess; but the boy was to go to school in a year’s time. Then she said: “You must see the children. For the last three years I have been their governess, and taught them nearly all they know. And I think they do credit to my bringing up.”

Then she left the room; returning in a few minutes followed by the youngsters, whom she laughingly introduced to me as: “Master Robert Markham, aged nine years; and Miss Dora Markham, aged twelve years and sis months.”

Robert was a good-looking, chubby child; dressed in a black velvet knickerbocker suit. Dora was an extremely pretty little girl, with big gray eyes, and long auburn hair flowing loose over her shoulders nearly down to her waist. She was well, and tastefully dressed in mourning; and she looked a thorough little lady.

The children were not the least shy; neither were they forward; and after greeting me in a well-bred manner, they sat down, and we had a little chat. And I noticed that they called Frances “Mamma,” whenever they addressed her.

They only remained a short time in the room; and when they had gone, I said to Frances: “They are pretty children, and they certainly do you credit in every way. They seem to be very well-behaved.”

“Yes,” she replied. “They are well-behaved now. I have managed to get them into pretty good order; but when I married their father, they were horrid little creatures in every way. Their mother died when they were mere babies, and they have been left entirely to servants-most of whom were natives-until I arrived at Wynberg. I at once took them in hand; and a hard job I had at first, as they had no idea of obedience; but I persevered, and I spanked them whenever they were naughty. After a few whippings, they became docile; but they are still troublesome at times. When I came to England I got a nice little rod, and now I birch them whenever they misbehave, or are idle at their lessons. I do not allow the governess to lay a hand on them. The girl is the more troublesome of the two, and I have to take her across my knees oftener than I have to take the boy.”

I smiled. “Do you like whipping them?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I must confess I do. Especially the boy. He is a nice little fellow, and so plucky; he always takes his punishment bravely; and he has such a pretty little bottom, and such a dear little “thing.’ I always manage to touch it when I am whipping him.”

“Oh, you naughty girl!” I exclaimed, laughing. Then I added: “I should very much like to see you whipping them.”

“I know you would,” she observed, smiling, and making a little face at me.

“Could you not manage to hide me somewhere, and let me see you using the rod, one of these days?” I said coaxingly; at the same tame putting my hand up her clothes, and gently tickling the “spot,” which was still a little moist with the “dew of love.”

She kicked out her legs, and laughed: then after a moment’s thought, said: “I think it could be managed. I could put you in the alcove behind the curtains, and you would be able to peep between them. No one would know you were there.”

“That’s a good girl. I was sure yon could arrange the matter for me,” I said, giving her a hearty kiss.

“But you may have to wait some time before you see one of the children punished. I never give them a birching unless they deserve it.”

“I am in no hurry. I should like to see either of them turned up; but of course it would give me more pleasure to see you operate upon the girl.”

“Oh, I know that very well; you naughty boy,” she marked, unbuttoning my trousers, and letting out my half-stiff prick. Then, gently rubbing it, she said: “You shall see them both whipped in due course. And you will admire Dora’s bottom very much. She has a most beautiful white skin. I have never seen a whiter one; and it is so extremely fine, that the least thing marks it. She is a great coward, and always makes a great fuss while she is being whipped.”

“All the more fun for the whipper, and also for the looker-on,” said I, with a smile. Then, as my cock, under her skilful manipulation had again become ready for action, I extended her on the sofa, and gave her another rattling poke; much to her satisfaction, and also to my own.

By this time it was past six o’clock, so. I made preparations to depart, but Frances would not let me go. She said she had ordered a nice little dinner, as she had fully expected me to stay.

I was delighted to remain a little longer with my old sweetheart; and I told her so. She then said: “Dinner will be ready at seven o’clock, so I must run away and dress; and I will send a maid to show you to a room where you can wash your hands.”

Then she tripped away; and a few minutes after, a maid-servant came and took me upstairs to a charmingly furnished bedroom, where I found a jug of hot water, comb and brushes, towels, and various other articles for making a toilet, laid out in readiness for me. I had a good wash, and brushed my hair; then I went down again to the drawing-room, where Frances was already seated, looking fresh and lovely, in a handsome black silk dinner gown, with her hair elaborately dressed in the latest style. Presently we were joined by the governess, to whom I was introduced by Frances. She said that I was her old guardian; which was, to a certain extent, the truth.

The governess, Miss Martin, was a ladylike woman, not more than thirty years of age; she had a pleasant face and manner; and she was nicely dressed. We had a little chat, and I was glad to see that Frances treated the governess with kindness and consideration, speaking to her on all occasions as one lady should speak to another, whatever may be their relative positions. At seven o’clock, dinner was announced, and, in obedience to a sign from Frances, I gave Miss Martin my arm, and led her into the dining-room. We sat down at a round able, prettily decorated with flowers and fruit; the dinner was good, and well-cooked, the wines were of very fair quality, and we were waited on by two smart parlourmaids. It was a merry little repast. Frances had always been a well-informed woman, and an amusing talker, but that night her conversation was more brilliant and witty than I had ever known it to be in the old days. Miss Martin also, had plenty to say for herself, and it struck me that she had a bit of fun in her. However, our conversation was of the most decorous description, and we all got on together extremely well. At dessert, the children came in, prettily dressed, and looking like little pictures. Each was given a plate of fruit, and they remained in the room a short time, cluttering away without restraint, but behaving with perfect propriety.

After dinner, Frances told me to smoke my cigar; and when I had finished it, we went into the drawing-room, where my charming hostess, glancing at me with a humorous twinkle In her eyes, sank gracefully down upon the sofa which had been the altar of our love a few hours previously. I drew up a chair beside her, and we had a long and confidential chat, while Miss Martin played the piano.

At eleven o’clock, I bade the ladies good night; drove off to my chambers, and went to bed, feeling much pleased at knowing that my old sweetheart would be always at my disposal whenever I wanted a poke.

The time slipped away rapidly, and pleasantly. I called upon Frances nearly every day; she being always delighted to see me; and I seldom left the house without at least one poke. I also dined occasionally with her, but she would never dine out with me, nor would she go about much in my company. She said, laughingly, that now she was a rich widow, she did not wish to have any scandal talked about her. I thought she was right. And I was quite satisfied as long as she did not make any objection to my poking her. But she never did make an objection-quite the contrary-she was always ready, and glad to receive the “stroke of love.”

We revelled in our mutual embraces; and to me, it was always most piquant to poke the luscious and lovely woman fully attired in her charming toilettes, in all sorts of fancy positions; on the sofa, or sitting in a chair, and sometimes kneeling on all-fours upon the floor.

No more voluptuous woman than Frances ever wriggled her bottom in the delicious spasm of love.

I had not as yet seen either of the children birched, and I began to think that my sweetheart had forgotten she had promised to let me see her using the rod; so one day I reminded her. She said, laughing, that she had not forgotten her promise; but that, so far, she had had no reason to whip either the boy or the girl. And she again assured me that she would not fail to let me know whenever she had occasion to apply the rod.

The day after our conversation, I had to go down to Oakhurst on business, but before leaving town, I let Frances know the day on which I meant to return. I got back to London at noon on the day specified, and on reaching my chambers, found a note from Frances. It had arrived that morning, and though it was short, it was to the point. It said:

Dearest Charley,

Come at three o’clock, and spend the afternoon with me, and stay to dinner.

Your loving Frances. P.S. I am going to birch both the children.

I smiled as I read the brief, but most satisfactory epistle. I was glad she had remembered her promise; and I said to myself that the afternoon would be a pleasant and exciting one in various ways.

First of all, I should have the pleasure of seeing two pretty, little, white bottoms reddening and wriggling under the rod; and then when I was thoroughly excited, and had got a good cockstand at the sight of the whipping, I should have the additional pleasure of turning up the petticoats of the whipper, and of administering to her a taste of my “rod,” The whole thing would be delicious! I lunched at my club; and sharp at three o’clock, I knocked at the door of the house in Kensington, and was shown up to the drawing-room, where I found Frances, with a waggish expression on her face, waiting to receive me. She was dressed in her pretty, lace-trimmed, black tea gown; and when I took her in my arms to kiss her, I found that she had on no stays, and on potting my hand tip her clothes, I farther discovered that she was not wearing drawers.

As my hand touched her naked bottom, she laughed, saying:

“Yon see I have prepared myself for the ‘rod’.”

“That’s right,” I said, sitting down upon a chair, and drawing her on to my knees. “We shall have some fun this afternoon in more ways than one. Now tell me what offences the children have committed.”

She replied: “Robert has been reported to me for persistent idleness, by the governess. She tells me he does not mind what she says to him. Dora has been saucy to me; and has also told me a lie, which is a fault I never pass over. I hate a liar, so I intend to make her bottom smart. She is inclined to be untruthful, and I have had to whip her twice for fibbing.”

“Do they know that they are going to be whipped? Where are the young culprits? I am longing to see Dora’s bottom,” said L

Frances smiled, and said: “They know they are going to be whipped, and they are waiting in the schoolroom. I always punish them there; but to-day I will bring them down here. No one will know what is going on. Miss Martin has gone out for a couple of hours; and the servants are all in the lower regions of the house. They know I sometimes whip the children; but I should not like them to find out that I had ever allowed yon to be present at the punishment” Then, laying her hand on the front of my trousers, she added, laughing: “I do believe that the very thought of seeing the girl’s bottom birched, has made your ‘thing’ stiff. What a man you are for the rod!”

“Well, I must say my thing «beginning to stir,” said I, with a laugh. She went on: “Now go into the alcove behind the curtains. You can peep between them; but be sure to keep them closely drawn, and don’t make the least noise.”

Then she jumped off my knees and left the room. I went behind the curtains, and held them closely together where they met, but I left a narrow little space, through which I could see everything, without being seen.

In a couple of minutes, Frances returned, leading by their hands the two young culprits. Robert, dressed in his black velvet suit, had a woeful expression on his face, but he did not show any other signs of fear. Dora was looking intensely frightened; she was whimpering, and the tears were trickling down her pale cheeks.

As I have before said, she was a charmingly pretty little girl, with long, glossy, — soft auburn hair flowing loose. She was handsomely dressed from head to foot, and the skirt of her black frock only reaching a little below her knees, showed her small, but well-formed legs clad in black silk stockings. On her tiny feet she wore smart patent leather shoes.

Frances locked the door; then going to a cabinet, she took out a short, slender little birch rod, tied up with scarlet ribbons; and though the rod looked like a toy, it was quite big enough to raise weals on a child’s bottom, and to make it smart sorely.

Both the children knew, by bitter experience, that the small birch could sting; and at the sight of the bristling twigs, Robert’s lips began to tremble a little, while Dora whimpered more loudly, and covered her face with her hands.

Frances, rod in hand, seated herself on a low chair which she had placed so close to the curtains that I could almost have touched her, by stretching out my arm. Then she ordered the culprits to come and stand in front of her. The boy at once obeyed; but the girl hesitated, and the order had to be sharply repeated, before she complied with it.

Frances now took hold of Robert, laid him over her lap, unbuttoned his knickerbockers and pulled them down to his knees; then she carefully tucked up his little shirt all round, back and front, at the same rime feeling his wee tool; and as she did so, she glanced up at the curtains, with a roguish smile on her face. She had seated herself with her right side tamed to the curtain, so that I had a full-length view of the boy as he sprawled over her lap, with his arms and legs hanging down; and I could see everything as plainly as if I had had the young culprit lying across my own knees.

She now lectured the boy on his idleness, and told him that she would whip him every time the governess reported him for not learning his lessons. And the whole time she was speaking, she stroked and patted the cheeks of his plump little bottom. Then she gave him a dozen slight cuts, which, however, striped his skin all over with red streaks; he winced at each cut, and wriggled about briskly, twisting his loins in pain, and crying loudly, the tears rolling down his cheeks. He certainly showed pluck while he was being birched; he never screamed, and he only once covered his bottom with his hands; but he instantly removed them, when his stepmother said sternly: “Take away your hands.”

When she had finished whipping him, she ordered him to go and kneel upon the seat of a chair with his knickerbockers down. He obeyed, and placed himself in position, with his red bottom exposed; then he rested his arms on the back of the chair, crying quietly, and occasionally rubbing his smarting little posteriors.

It was now Dora’s turn! While her brother was being birched, she had stood trembling and weeping, with her big, gray eyes fixed in a horrified stare on his writhing bottom. Frances told me, when all was over, that she had never before whipped the children in each other’s presence. She now laid down the rod, and took a handkerchief out of her pocket; then she seized Dora’s wrists and tied them together, the girl making no resistance; and in another moment she was placed in position across her stepmother’s knees, where she lay quietly, though wailing with fear. Frances then turned up the girl’s short skirt, rolled up her dainty little white petticoats, and tucked up her chemise; revealing the outlines of her childish figure covered only with a tightly-fitting pair of drawers, buttoned at the sides, and without a slit. Frances unfastened all the buttons, and pulled down the flap of the small garment, laying bare Dora’s bottom, and also the upper part of her thighs.

I had never before seen the bottom of so young a girl-she was only a little over twelve-and-a-half years of age-and I looked at the charming spectacle with great delight. It was a most lovely little bottom: plump, round, and perfectly proportioned, and also well developed for the age of the girl-a delicious morsel for the rod!

But her skin! What words can I use to describe the peculiar whiteness of Dora’s wonderfully beautiful skin? The ordinary terms such as: alabaster white; lily-like; milk-white; and snow white, will not do. The tint was extremely delicate, and quite different to anything I had ever seen: the tiny blue veins could be distinctly traced on the exquisitely smooth surface, and the whole skin was of such extreme fineness of texture, and so transparent, that it seemed almost to take a faint, pink tinge from the blood beneath it.

Frances glanced again at the curtains, smiling, and pointing to Dora’s bottom, as if to draw my attention to its rare beauty; but I noticed that she did not touch, or feel the girl between the legs, in the way she had felt the boy. I suppose it would have been no fun to her to handle one of her own sex.

She took up the rod-it seemed almost a pity to birch such a snowdrop of a bottom-and putting her arm over the trembling culprit’s loins, held her firmly down; saying: “Now, yon naughty girl; I’ll make you smart for telling me a lie!”

Dora contracted her muscles, and moaned in dread of the coming cut. The little rod hissed in the air for a moment, then fell with a swish on the delicate-skinned little bottom; both cheeks of which were instantly marked with red weals, and a number of small dots of a darker red colour. The girl plunged, threw back her head with a jerk, which tossed her long hair all over her face, and uttered a long, shrill squeal Swish! Swish! Swish! The rod, with its scarlet ribbons fluttering, rose and fell, raising more red weals on the quivering flesh of the young culprit, who screamed and writhed in agony at each cut. Frances did not, however, birch the girl with more severity than she had birched the boy; but Dora’s skin was far finer than Robert’s, and she felt the pain much more acutely! Swish! Swish! Swish! She squealed and wriggled, twisting her hips from side to side, and kicking her silken-clad little legs about in all directions. Swish! Swish! She turned her head round; and shaking the loose hair off her scarlet, pain-drawn, tear-bedabbled face, shrieked out piteously: “Oh! Mamma! Do do let me go!” Swish! “Oh-h! dear-Mamma!” Swish! “Yah-hah-ah-h! Oh! I-will-be-good!” Swish! “Ah-h-h! Oh! I-will never”-swish! — “Oh-h! — Ah-h-h! tell-a lie-again.” Swish! “Wan-hah-ah-h!” Swish! Swish! Swish! She yelled, and struggled, and bawled, and bounced; but Frances held her down tightly, and birched her slowly; while redder and redder grew her little posteriors under the flashing switch. Swish! “Ah! — Yah-hah-ah-h-h!!!” The last cut fell on the shrieking girl’s twitching flesh; and Frances threw down the rod. Dora’s delicious little bottom was now crimson, covered with weals, and speckled all over with purple clots. She had received eighteen cuts, and she lay trembling, crying, and writhing with the smarting pain.

After a moment, Frances took the girl up in her arms and placed her, with her petticoats up, and her drawers down, in a kneeling position on a chair beside her brother; so that I had a good view of the two well-whipped little bottoms. Both were very red, and also much wealed, but Dora’s was far more marked, and sore-looking than Robert’s; and her dazzlingly white little thighs contrasted strongly with the scarlet cheeks of her bottom. The boy had ceased crying, but the girl continued to weep, her sobs shaking her plump little buttocks. I compared the two small posteriors, noticing the boy’s bottom though round and chubby, was not nearly so broad or so plump as the girl’s. As soon as Dora’s wailing had somewhat subsided, Frances lifted her off the chair, and placed her on her feet with her face turned towards the curtains. Then she again raised the girl’s petticoats above her waist, and took hold of her drawers; but before pulling them up, she paused for a few moments, glancing, with a sly smile, in the direction of the curtains, — she evidently wished to show me Dora’s small “spot.”

I had never seen such a miniature cunt! It was a delicious little thing, with wee pink lips without a vestige of down; and it looked just like a tiny slit in her white little belly. When Frances thought I had seen enough, she fastened up the girl’s drawers, and untied her wrists; at the same time telling the boy to button up his knickerbockers. He did so; and then she sent them both back to the schoolroom, the girl sobbing, and she moved her legs stiffly when she walked.

To me, a “lover of the rod,” the whole affair had been most pleasing; as it had been a charming spectacle of real birch discipline; and, as a matter of course, I had a stiff erection. Frances threw herself down upon the sofa, and I came from behind the curtains with my cock standing straight out, as I had already unbuttoned my trousers. Frances laughed when she saw me approaching her with rampant prick, and at once settled herself well down upon her back to receive the attack.

Without a word, I raised her petticoats, and stretched out her willing legs; then folding her in my arms, I pressed my lips to her mouth, thrust my prick into her cunt, and poked her with intense delight; making her bound, and squeak, and wriggle under me, from the first dig until the supreme moment when we both “spent” in the voluptuous spasm. Then we lay, hugging and kissing, and mutually pleased with each other.

As soon as we had arranged our disordered attire, Frances locked up the rod in the cabinet, and we sat down to rest, and also to talk over the affair. Frances began: “Well, are you pleased with the way I whipped the children?”

“Very much pleased,” I replied. “You handled the rod gracefully and skilfully; and you birched the youngsters smartly, but not too severely.” She smiled, pleased at my complimenting her on her skill as a “whipper.”

“Hasn’t Dora got a delicate skin? You saw how much it got marked by the rod, and you heard how she screamed while she was being whipped, but I really did not birch at all hard. If I had, the blood would have soon come. She has not the least fortitude, and she always makes a great outcry.” Then she added, laughing: “I showed you more than her pretty bottom. Did you ever see such a little ‘thing’ before?”

“No, never!” I answered. “Nor have I ever seen so young a girl birched. She has a lovely little bottom; and you must manage-as long as I am in town-to let me be present whenever you whip her.”

“Oh, I’ll always let you know when I am going to turn her up; but I am pretty sure I shall not have to do so for weeks to come. The birching she has had to-day will keep her in order for a long time. She does not much mind a spanking, but she dreads the rod.”

We now had a little chat on various subjects; then at Frances’ own request, I took her across my knees, and gave her a smart little spanking: and I finished up the afternoon’s amusements by poking her “en levrette,” as she leant over the back of an easy-chair.

She then went up to dress for dinner; and I went up to the bedroom which was always at my service whenever I wanted to wash my hands or brush my hair.

When I returned to the drawing-room, I found Miss Martin there alone. We shook hands cordially, for we had become very friendly, as I was the friend of the family, and also Mrs. Markham’s “old guardian.” Miss Martin was a jolly sort of woman; not exactly pretty, bat she was nice to look at, as she had fine, hazel eyes, abundant brown hair, white teeth, and a plump, shapely figure; she was also very tastefully dressed. She sat down in an easy-chair, leaning back in an unconstrained position, and as her skirt was a little raised, I could see her trim ankles, cased in brown silk stockings, and her neat feet in high-heeled shoes.

She was a good talker, and had travelled a good deal on the Continent with her former employers; but I had an idea that she had not always been a governess. We conversed on sundry topics for a short time, and then we spoke about the children. Miss Martin knew that they had both been whipped that afternoon; but she did not know that I was cognizant of the fact, and of course she had not the faintest suspicion that I had been present at the punishment; nor had she any idea that I was in the habit of poking Mrs. Markham.

She informed me that they were both bright, clever children, but rather difficult to manage. Then I asked, in a most innocent manner: “Do you approve of corporal punishment for children?”

“I do most certainly,” she replied without the least hesitation. “For girls as well as boys?” I queried

“Yes. Girls should be whipped whenever they are naughty. They are often more troublesome than boys. I mean little boys. I have no experience with boys over ten years of age.”

“Dear me!” I said in affected surprise, “I did not think that girls were ever subjected to corporal punishment nowadays.”

Miss Martin smiled. “Oh yes, they are in some schools, and also in some families,” she remarked.

It was a curious subject for us to discuss, but as she did not seem to be at all diffident, I thought I would ask a few more questions,

“What, in your opinion, is the best way of punishing a naughty girl?”

“I think there is no better way of punishing a naughty girl than to give her a good whipping with a birch rod in the old-fashioned way,” she replied in the coolest manner.

I had some difficulty in preventing myself laughing at the plain way in which the governess had spoken. Then I said: “I suppose you have had a great deal of experience?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I have been a family governess for seven years, and during that period, I have used the rod whenever my employers would allow me to do so. But some ladies I have lived with would not permit me to whip their children; nor would they whip the children themselves.”

The subject then dropped; and in a few moments Frances tripped into the room, smiling and fresh, as well as faultlessly dressed, and we went in to dinner, which was a good one, as usual.

At dessert, rather to my surprise, the children came into the room as had always been their custom, whenever I dined with their stepmother.

The boy appeared to be in his usual spirits; but the girl was a little pale and depressed. They both had become very friendly with me, and I often brought them boxes of sweets: so they now sat down, one on each side of me, and I noticed that the girl seated herself very carefully on the edge of her chair. No doubt her poor little bottom was still very tender. I filled their plates with fruit, and began to talk to them; but Dora was not at all in her usual form. So just out of mischief, and to hear what they would say, I said: “Have you been good children to-day?”

Dora coloured, and cast down her eyes in silence. Frances, and Miss Martin smiled. But Robert blurted out in childlike innocence: “No; we have not been good. We have been naughty; and Mamma gave us both a whipping. I did not scream, but Dora did.”

Dora blushed very red; her modesty was offended at my being told that she had been whipped. Turning to her brother, she exclaimed angrily: “You horrid boy! You may tell people that you have been whipped, if you like; but you have no business to say anything about me.” She then ran out of the room, with flashing eyes and flaming cheeks.

The boy looked astonished, and we all laughed; the governess saying: “Robert, you should never tell tales out of school.”

He was soon sent to join his sister; then the ladies and myself went into the drawing-room, where we passed a couple of hours pleasantly with music and conversation, Then I went home to my chambers, and after I had smoked a cigar, and drunk a glass of whisky and water, I retired to my virtuous couch, thoroughly well pleased with my day’s amusements.

I stayed in town for three more weeks, visiting Frances frequently; but I never had the pleasure of seeing Dora’s pretty little bottom; as ever since the day she had been birched in company with her brother, she had behaved so well, that her stepmother never had reason to rum her up.

On leaving London I went to Scotland, where I remained for upwards of a month grouse-shooting with various friends; and on my return to England, I went to Oakhurst, where I settled down for the winter, amusing myself in the usual way; hunting, shooting, dining out, and giving dinner parties in return. Whenever I felt inclined for an afternoon poke, I could always get hold of Mary, the pretty parlourmaid: all I had to do was to give her a wink, then she-would slip quietly up to my bedroom, and wait there till I came.

I also used often to run up to town for a couple of days to see Frances. And so the time went on.