Muriel

CHAPTER EIGHT

Daisy Partridge's Day-Book

We are settled now. How nice and cosy the new house is! I love the winding stairs, the staircases. I have my own room now as well-at last! Mama had promised me one when we moved. She presented her calling card today to our nearest neighbours. They have a daughter near my own age, I believe. Papa says he saw her in a donkey-cart I think he meant a pony cart! He is very vague is Papa, always mixing such things up. Uncle Arnold gave me a big kiss today. It was lucky Mama did not see. I know he kisses her as well. She says I am too grown-up for my age. I really don't know what that means. I told our governess. She says I mustn't talk of things like that. Jack wrote a note to her last night and put it underneath her door. It was VERY rude and said, 'You have a nice big bum'. He tried to disguise his writing, but she knew all right and spanked him for it with his trousers down. I know because I saw. His thing got stiff and stuck up underneath his shirt. I saw her holding it as well! It serves my brother right I bet it hurt. His bottom was all red. Papa has often said he'll birch my own when I am 'bad'. I pray he never will- please no!

I wonder what that girl he saw is like?

Lady Celia Partridge's Day-Book

A rather curious household at the Mansfields', but the general atmosphere is nice. Or rather, I should say is nice in parts. Having been invited to take tea, I met the sisters. No Mama is spoken of. I wonder, is there perhaps a touch of scandal there? Had she been deceased, they would have surely said.

Mr. Phillip Mansfield is a studious-looking man. He quite reminds me of my brother George who failed at all things and has become an unpublished poet for his sins. Mr. Mansfield is EXCEEDINGLY quiet. I suspect him to be dominated by his sisters who betray great mischief, as I understand the term, and appear to be in permanent residence.

The daughter, Sylvia, is sweet. I have suggested that she meet with Daisy. Mr. Mansfield quite brightened up at that and has invited her immediately. He has great need of a companion for his daughter, so he said-and this I well understand. It does the girl no good to be alone all day with just adults. However, in so saying he gave his sisters a quite PECULIAR look. Perhaps it is they who do not want to be disturbed, yet gave quite the opposite impression to me. I IX) find myself confused, but even so they are PERFECTLY proper people to know and have an excellent cuisine, I hear. I have invited them all to return my visit. The Misses Jane and Muriel accepted gladly, as did Sylvia. As for the master of the house, he seemed not to know his own mind and offered his apologies lest business take him off that day. In truth, he appears to be as vague as my dear husband is. There are times, however, when I do suspect that such indeterminacy veils such other thoughts as men may have.

Sir Roger Partridge's Day-Book

Met Mansfield today. Seems a frightfully reserved chap. Had a feeling that he didn't want to come. His sisters, though, are a very jolly pair. I ventured to show Muriel the conservatory. She admired some rather ripping orchids I have nurtured there. A splendid figure of womanhood she is. She stumbled on a broken pot that the gardener's boy had left upon the floor, which produced a very charming thrusting of her bosoms to my chest. I must say they are jolly firm, as is her bottom which I accidentally clutched when she fell against me. I could not feel that she wore drawers beneath. She blushed and hid her face into my neck, I murmuring my profound apologies, but the dear creature did not seem at all to mind my absolutely unforeseen caress.

I have arranged with her, quite privately, to do a little hunting at some time-pursuing hares, or such. The poor little creatures-can we not pretend there is one?', she shyly asked. I must say I agreed to that since it will leave us without the diversion of the chase.

There is a remarkable resemblance in height, form and hair between Daisy and Sylvia. From the back they look like twins. I did not remark that to them, though, for young girls are peculiar in their ways and like to be thought of as quite different from the rest. I observed my thought to Muriel and Jane, and they concurred.

How fortunate one is to find such prepossessing females near!

Muriel's Day-Book

I sense that there is much worth in Roger despite his seeming absent-mindedness. Having fondled my bottom in the conservatory, he asked me, 'By jove, what am I doing? Frightfully sorry, dear lady, for that'. Even so, he had a good squeeze there and began to erupt a little, for I felt it against my thigh. It seems years since I have brought forth a little blush. I was quite pleased with that.

Lady Partridge is quite sweet. I have yet to sum her up, for women are naturally cautious at the first. I believe there may be possibilities as equally there are in Daisy whose resemblance to Sylvia is marked. They could be exchanged quite neatly in the dark, I said to Jane, who laughed and asked me what I had in mind. I do not know as yet, though certain naughty thoughts arise. I shall go riding with Roger and have little doubt that we shall end up in what the French so charmingly call a bosquet or, in common parlance, among the bushes!

'I thought he would have asked me first', said Jane, but she is never really jealous of such things. Besides, as the older sister the privilege is mine to handle possibilities first.-'Of course, dear, but don't exhaust them', said she, though kissed me all the same.

We handled Phillip once again last night. I believe he may be 'waking up' a little bit. Jane saddled him and took the pleasure of his cock while I sat on his face and kept his nose stuck up between my bottom cheeks. We tackled him together in his bed long after Sylvia was fast asleep. The poor, dear man, he is quite terrified lest she should hear.

“You will do your duty by us, Phillip, dear. You have the first rights, have you not?', asked Jane to his despair. At that moment she was riding up and down upon his prick, jogging her naked bottom lusciously. I lifted up my bottom for a moment and he snorted, groaned, 'Leave me, leave me!' As he began to come, however, so he clutched up at my straddled thighs and, by determination or by accident, brought his tongue to flirt around my cunnylips which were exceedingly moist at that stage, and indeed I sprinkled him profusely while Jane wet his balls.

There-are you not enjoying it, in truth?', I asked him afterwards, our naked bodies pressed on either side to his. We tease him much about dear Uncle Reggie- how he pumped us both. Jane lay behind him and held his arms while I manipulated his limp, sticky prick. It began half turgid once again, and much against his stubborn will.

'How dare you thus make me submit to you?', he moaned, but even in the moonlit room one could see that his face and neck were flushed. As much as he pretends to loathe it, even so he likes it when I cup his balls and Jane rubs his tool at the same time. Jane made him turn his neck and kiss her-said that she would scream for Sylvia if he did not. I held their heads together while he did and rubbed my treasure up against his cock, and then took a ribbon and bound it tightly round the root of it to keep it up.

'You naughty boy', we teased him then, and left him thus, all in a daze, I think.

Phillip's Day-Book

My forlorn, lost mood will never leave me now. I am convinced of that. I have become a plaything for the sinful pair. Thank God that none will ever know of this!

I thank the Heavens, too, for Daisy who is fast becoming a companion for dear Sylvia. Their innocent laughter often reaches me amidst my torments. Even so, young Daisy has become another lever that my sisters use. This afternoon the) both invaded my study again, Muriel holding something crumpled in her hand. To my horror, they were a pair of her own drawers, and most expensive ones with short frilled legs.

'Come, Phillip, put them on', she said to my disgust. I steadfastly refused, of course, though was not made to combat wickedness of this dire sort, and prayed for the presence of my once-beloved who was veritably an angel beside this pair.

'You will wear them underneath your trousers. Otherwise we shall pull your garments down in front of Sylvia and Daisy', Jane declared.

I did not doubt them for a moment-or at least that they might try, and show me thus as a shorn lamb, disgustingly, beyond all one's experience. Thereat Jane threw the door of my study open and called for Sylvia, albeit softly. Panic then was upon me like a net. I drew her back and slammed the door.

'Go out and I will do it', I declared. But no-we want to see you put them on, was said. I turned my back on them to do that shameful deed. The drawers are softer and more clinging than my normal, proper underwear.

'How sweet you look!', said Muriel and halted me from putting back my trousers on until I was 'inspected' by the pair and made to draw the knickers tightly up until my manhood formed a lump that was visible through the fine batiste. I begged them for the thousandth time to let me be. Muriel looked serious at that and told me to draw my trousers up. I am to be inspected day and night to ensure that I am wearing the ridiculous attire.

'You know the penalty', said Muriel.

I cannot bring myself to feel that I am any longer the possessor of my soul. I feel the drawers all day around my person. They produce the most peculiar sensation I have ever known. My testicles are constantly caressed by the material which has the same effect upon my other private parts. Dear Heavens, dare I write to Deirdre and beg her to return? I fear that if I do-and much I wish to now- I might be scorned by her as well. How desperately I have wandered from the true path that I set myself in life!

Muriel's Day-Book

A delightful ride with Roger. Truly, he has merit and does not rush his hedges nor such skirts as come to his attention. Upon his suggestion, we met discreetly at a halfway point and then circled around his private wood where we would not be disturbed, said he, for he had sent his foresters away.

We settled ourselves, after a fine, refreshing gallop, in a clearing where the sun had enabled a small sward to grow. Delightfully springy it was too, being compounded of both moss and grass, and I asking him if he wished to discuss the condition of the Nation, or philosophy.

'The philosophy of affections', he replied and-we lying down-he cradled my head romantically on his arm and sought with gentlemanly caution underneath my skirt to an inch or two above my knees, I not disturbing his hand in its search.

Roger is a fine bookman seemingly and discoursed to me, while pecking lightly on my lips, of much that he has read of love's fine doings, even quoting passages therefrom that stirred me deeply while his fingers made a tour around my garters, felt my thighs above-not hastening but in a teasing way such as one rarely comes across with urgent males who are too quick to put the poker in. Thus did he speak to me of one Brantome who wrote the 'Secret Lives of Ladies', so he said, and had much to plainly speak upon the things the long-gone ones had done, such as ladies 'frotting' quims to quims that were as frothy as with soap.

'I would not know of such', I smiled, but tipped my tongue between his lips to show him that I merely teased. There were gallants-so he told me Brantome wrote, who fucked their ladies two by two, sometimes a wife and mistress in the self-same bed, and gentlemen who 'trod' their daughters first, before they wed.-'Oho! That is a gentlemanly thing to do?', I asked.

'I would not know of such', was his response in taunting echo of my own.

By then his hand reached my slit which he toyed with gently, seeking out my spot and bringing it to tingle to his touch so enervatingly that I squirmed and begged him with my eyes to do the deed. I must have received there many a fine prick, said he. He clearly sought me to respond with more impassioned words, but I would not. A woman knows a man the best when he does all the speaking at the first. As to himself, I asked, how many cunnies had he breached?

'Of late? A score or two'. He smiled and pretended a soft yawn upon my open mouth forcing my legs apart just as I wished him to, for such a move excites me much, reminds me of days past, my naughtiness.

'Tut-tut, you have not been over-busy then', I riposted whereat we exchanged tongues more. I drew my knees up. He uncovered me and tucked my gown around my waist, leaving my bottom naked on the sward.

'I shall be busier with you. Perhaps also with Jane, and…'

'Sylvia?' At last his penis had sprung out. I fondled its firm girth, soothed up and down the vibrant rod. Her name excited him the more. Even as I uttered it he got between my open legs and rubbed his crest against my furry mount.

'Has she been trodden yet?', he asked.

'Not yet. Has Daisy? What sweet legs, she has, what lovely tits. Have you not even brought her nipples up? Oh, Roger-put it in me now!'

'Wait, woman, wait', he answered me. I adore such mastery. All women do who are not dead to adoration of one's form. His bulbous knob had found the entrance to my honeypot. It parted the rolled lips and slipped within, then stayed itself most maddeningly despite my wrigglings. Both my wrists were gripped and held above my head, he arched upon me; self-possessed, all his supposed vagueness had gone. I knew it for a trick of his. Women can sometimes be so, too, when in the lure of some desire that they are minded not yet to express.

'Fuck me and you may have us both', I said.

“Both you and Jane-and Sylvia, also?' His prick moved in another inch. I squeezed upon it rapturously. No one had fucked me thus before. I knew the stimulating thrill of it. His voice was husky and dark as was my own.

'I want your cock more, Roger. No-not Sylvia. But Daisy, yes. How sweet to hear her whimper under you, but you must promise that you do it to her… OOOH!'

My words had such effect that he was in me to his balls in one long stroke, holding my wrists still, crushing me, and thus he pinned me, cheek to cheek, both of us breathing heavily.

'Stir your legs more, woman. Lift them up!'

“Won't-won't', I said like a young girl, and turned my face more into the soft sward as if I would deny him then my lips. His tongue entered my ear. I closed my eyes. I murmured it was naughty, wicked, bad. His prick stirred in me slowly, throbbing well. I held it clenched within my spongy grasp. What lovely little liquid sounds came as he moved! I hissed my breath in, stirred my bottom just a trifle then, but-as if regretful-let it plump again upon the grass and wore a dull, rebellious air.

At that, he clasped me firmly around the waist and rolled right over upon his back, carrying me with him with his prick still deeply sheathed so that it was I who straddled him. And thereupon he smacked my bottom hard and gasped, 'Now buck your bottom, woman, and get on with it!'

'Yoo-ow! You beast!', I laughed. I slewed my hips up, down, and rode him well, sitting up straight and jogging as I did. The deepest penetration is secured that way, I think. I felt completely pierced, absorbed, fulfilled. I spurted, spattered love-juice on his pubic hairs, eyes rolling and my hair all wild. My moans betrayed me, for then he rolled right over once again and pinned me again beneath his virile form.

'Keep your legs open-wider-wide!', he gasped and mashed his lips most passionately to mine.

'Come in me-come!', I choked. The grass tickled underneath my bottom and the world was all a-heave.

“Wait, woman, wait', he groaned and stirred his throbbing pestle more. I had never felt myself so conquered since I was Sylvia's age, and loved each second of his savage thrusts, his mouth all over mine, his hands holding apart my bottom cheeks.

'Yes, sir, but do it, sir, please do', I whimpered like a girl again, for I felt that such play-acting pleased him so long as he remained the master of my hot, orgasmic fate.

It did indeed. 'You are a naughty little girl', he mouthed, but still he would not-as it were-obey commands, and threshed me more before he came and shot his huge, warm jets within my clenching maw until both of us lay quivering in the gruelly pools of our delight.

His body crushed my own. With any other man I would have murmured, 'Get off, do!', but with Roger I remained quiescent, breathing softly till he drew his steaming penis out and knelt to button up his trouser front.

'You may rise now', he said to my feint astonishment, for though it was said gallantly, there was a strain of strong command in it. He sat to one side, back against a tree, and lit a cigar the while that I repaired myself. Then, having done so, I was ordered to sit down with him, his arm around my shoulders placed.

It was then that he commenced a discourse that I listened to with awe, for so many things he said about me were correct. I was the leader of a pack, he said, and Jane could well be my accomplice.

'At the moment, I suspect, you have young Sylvia in thrall. What of Mansfield himself? How does this come to be?'

I snuggled more into his arms and felt myself-as I so often have with men-superior.

'He, too. I keep him segregated from the girls', I said.

He appeared to read my mind on that, and nodded gravely, said I had done well.

'Pout your lips when I kiss you next', he said. I did so dutifully. He felt my breasts meanwhile and asked me many things about myself: when I was first mounted, how I had behaved-all such. His curiosity seemed endless on that score. When had I first taken the cock between my bottom cheeks, he asked. At seventeen, said I. And as to Jane? Yes, I had held her for her first. He stroked my cheek at that and smiled.-'All as I thought. I saw it in your eyes', said he.

A moment of silence passed between us then. My cunny pulsed agreeably. I saw some renewed stirrings of his cock and fingered it lightly through his trouser cloth.

'It shall be thus, my dear', he said at last, 'I shall have you as often as I wish. Jane, too. As to Sylvia, she will be brought upon my cock in turn'.

'And that is ALL you wish?', I asked, yet felt a curious edge of fear as if I had committed an impertinence-a feeling I had never had before when with a male save for those times when Papa birched me and I would not take my drawers right off.

His fingers thereupon seized my chin and held my face right under his.

'You will not answer me in that wise, woman, when I speak!'

'So you will have us both, then-Jane and I? If such is your command, sir, yes, we will. Together if you wish- that would be nice'.

I spoke constrictedly. My mouth was pursed up by his grip-

'You have not mentioned Sylvia', said he.

'You may not have her-that is why. Not yet, at least. As to Daisy, you may have her on my bed, and if…' SMACK! 'OH!', I bleated. Suddenly he had me over on my belly, dress thrust up again, and SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! his hand fell on my derriere.

'You will not entertain ideas of that sort, Muriel. That is for me to say. You understand?' SMACK! SPLATT! SMACK! SPLATT! Oh, my poor bottom burned!

'Yes, yes! Oh, Roger, do not beat me, please!'

At that he desisted, hauled me up again. I winced as my burning bum squashed on the grass. Indeed, I attempted tears, but none would come. How curious and astounding was the change in me-I who would have spat fire at any other man. I had not so been treated since my more tender years when I was broken-in as many young girls are, particularly in the countryside.

Would I continue to deal with Phillip, he then asked curiously.-'Of course', I said and waited on his further word.-'We shall see what we shall see', said he, then fell to tender kissing and caressing, which surprised me just as much, fondling my pussy through my pulled-down dress, and I his prick, but neither of us urgent to commence again.

Jane will scarce believe all this. Perhaps I had best not tell her yet.