Venus in the Country

Chapter two

Preparing to leave the next morning, Pamela was a much-changed girl, though no one would have thought it from the demureness of her expression.

Her greatest ordeal had come the previous night, when Mr. Rumple had dared to venture into her room. Mrs. Rumple had already been accommodated with a sleeping draught which her thoughtful husband had slipped into her sherry after dinner.

The events of the day had been too much for her, Horace declared, and helped her solicitously up to bed. Beseeching him not to leave her since she felt quite queer, Mrs. Rumple undressed and bid her husband do the same. Horace obeyed with alacrity, knowing full well that in but a few more moments even the greatest thunderclap would not awaken her.

Whilst Mrs. Rumple undressed, he attired himself in his nightshirt and held her lovingly in his arms until her first faint snores sounded. Still ever cautious, Horace laid down the bedclothes, parted her plump thighs and gently tickled her quim. At first Mrs. Rumple gave an answering twitch or two of her large bottom, but even such sensations as he was affording her by twirling a finger around her button could not allay the onslaught of sleep.

Finally her body grew inert and her snores louder. Wishing devoutly that he had thought to use this device before, Horace left the marital bed and went to the far more exciting one in the attic where Pamela lay. Herself a little drowsy, she received first his kisses hazily.

“Oh, sir, Mrs. Rumple may venture in!” she protested when her nightgown was raised.

“Nothing to fear, my love, all is well. Now I shall teach you to raise your bottom and to waggle it prettily. Come-no nonsense, or I shall bring the birch to it first. You would not like that?”

“No, Mr. Rumple-Oh! but what are you doing!”

“Presenting my cock to your bottom, Pamela. The first salute may prove a trifle harder than in your cunny, but we shall manage it. Lift well up, now-let me part the cheeks. Ah, what a rosy treasure!”

Fearful lest her shrieks might bring forth Mrs. Rumple, Pamela acquiesced to the lewd act, though it was necessary for her to muffle her mouth in her pillow while the sturdy rod urged its path slowly between her bottom cheeks. Being gripped tightly by Horace, she could move but little.

“No, I hate it! Please don't! Must I have an injection there?”

“In all your orifices, my sweet. Have patience. In no time at all you will begin to enjoy it. You will feel the rush of my sperm more sensitively within your bottom, I vow. It is a favourite sport among the gentry, I am told. I am breaking you in.”

“Oh! but do not break it completely! I swear you are splitting me! Go more slowly, I beg! I cannot take it all!”

Long was the time that Horace laboured, for he was an understanding soul and was by now well aware that Pamela could become a pleasure-maiden beyond compare. Holding his well-gripped prick but four inches within her rosette, he allowed it to throb mightily, the more to lure her into taking it.

Finally his lubricious persuasions overcame her. Little by little Pamela found the sensations more attractive than they had at first appeared. With many a little puff and pant she received another inch and another, until with a delirious groan Horace was sheathed full within the wondrous globe of her bottom.

Thereupon, leaning over her and fondling her melons, he began to whisper many lewd words that Pamela had never heard before. But that she was being taught things she ought to know, she had no doubt. The feeling of having a big warm pole of stiff pounder in her bottom began to attract her more and more. Extending her tongue and turning her face to him, she indulged in exciting kisses whilst endeavouring to reply to Mr. Rumple in kind.

He appeared delighted that she was learning the words and began pumping her in earnest, entreating her nevertheless to be discreet at all times and to remember the attitudes of Society. Not meaning to ever forget these lessons, Pamela absorbed all as eagerly as she was then entertaining his cock.

“Oh Mr. Rumple, you are f… f… fucking me!” she bubbled, only to be corrected.

“No, my dear, I am buggering you-or sodomising, as it is also called-and what a rare delight it is, especially with a bottom as round and tight and smooth as yours. Push a little now-work your bottom back and forth. 'Tis the most secret of pleasures and gives the girl a rich injection!”

“B… b… I will remember that!” Pamela answered hotly. Everyone knew but no one must know, she told herself again and again. But then her sweet, innocent mind quite clouded over as she felt her tummy and slit melting again even though Mr. Rumple was engaged elsewhere. Her passage had eased considerably and now the piston was tight and smooth within her, working back and forth with a joyous lustiness until at last his donation was made. With infinite trembling and a great revelation of pleasure, Pamela felt it jetting and spilling and frothing into her in exactly the way Mr. Rumple had said.

Remembering it hours later, Pamela wriggled agreeably as she took her seat in the carriage that had been sent for her. She wore her grey dress that was only three months old, white silk stockings that Mr. Rumple had filched from his wife's chest of drawers, and a pink bonnet. Her travelling companion was a housemaid who had been sent to chaperone her. Her name was Lucy and she appeared about twenty.

“You must be awful clever, Pamela-are you going to teach the girls?”

“Oh yes, I'm sure I shall teach nicely. I know a little French, for I learned it at school. Are the girls my age?”

“Miranda is sixteen and Helen eighteen. You'll get on famous with them, I'm sure. Was you a companion where you lived?”

Pamela nodded. It was partly true. She had been a very close companion to Mr. Rumple these past hours. Rather than talk about herself, she wanted to hear about Sir Richard and his family. He was a military man, Lucy said-a fine, upstanding gent. She didn't take to his wife so much. A bit hoity-toity she was, and got up to all sorts of things.

“What things?” Pamela asked curiously. She felt suddenly more grown up now that she was out in the world.

“That I can't tell you. There's rumours galore, but it all goes on behind closed doors when they hold these balls and things. On top of that there's the riding and hunting,” Lucy added with a sniff.

“Oh, I wouldn't want to hunt poor foxes!” Pamela exclaimed.

“I ain't sure it's the foxes wot get hunted as much as the young girls and the newly married ladies. You want to watch out, Miss.”

“That I shall,” Pamela said.

Her mind was all a-spin again now that she had heard this. However, it occurred to her that Lucy was probably exaggerating in order to make an effect. Pamela's visions of very well-to-do people-the “toffs” as they were rudely called-were exactly what Mrs. Rumple had instilled into her. Well-born people, Mrs. Rumple had often said, set the tone for Society. Their manners were always to be followed.

Pamela wondered if Lucy meant that the girls and young married women received injections during the hunting and at other times. After all, it was such a pleasure to receive them. She wondered if she dare ask Lucy, but decided not to. Toffs would not descend to telling their servants such things.

After her journey, Pamela felt quite tired, but she revived when she saw the manor house. It lay in beautiful rolling countryside and quite nestled in its own little valley. Tall elms appeared to guard it, and rooks and crows rose with a great fluttering of black wings when the carriage rolled down the long drive.

Pamela almost clapped her hands at the sight of the well-laid-out gardens which surrounded the old house and seemed to stretch forever behind it. There were rose bushes with blooms of many shades and colours, and she felt quite breathless with happiness at the thought that she would be able to smell them all.

Awaiting her arrival was a grave-looking footman dressed in black with gold braid. He helped her down and looked about for her luggage. Pamela blushed at the thought of how little she had. Mrs. Rumple had always impressed upon her to tell the truth, but after her adventures Pamela knew a little better.

“My other luggage will come later,” she said. Then she was led as gravely as ever within a hallway that was almost as large as the Rumples' drawing room. A maid appeared, neatly attired in a starched white apron and cap over a black dress.

“I will show you straight upstairs, Miss. Miss Miranda and Miss Helen are waiting to see you.”

Up the broad, curving staircase with its heavy polished rail they went. Pamela expected to find the bedrooms on the first floor, but another flight had to be climbed before they reached them. Arriving at one of the doors, the maid knocked. Almost immediately it opened.

“Oh, Miss Rumple (for all believed her to be the daughter of those who had commissioned her coming), how pleased we are to see you!” Helen exclaimed. Expecting to find an old maid, she was pleased and delighted to cast her eyes upon such a young and attractive girl.

“Oh! isn't she pretty! How glad I am you are not an old frump!” Miranda declared, bouncing forward.

Pamela found the two sisters very much as she had expected them. Miranda was a perfect cherub and possessed an exquisite figure for her age which was overshadowed only by that of her sister. Both had the same dark locks as Pamela herself. Smooth of skin and with large, liquid eyes they looked enchanting. They shared a large, cosy bedroom, and each girl had a small four-poster bed prettily draped with lace curtains. In the winter velvet drapes let down to keep them lovely and snug, they said.

As soon as Pamela had cast off her cloak, they all began to chat. Aided by a bottle of wine which Helen kept hidden at all times, they were soon as merry as three young ladies closeted alone can be. Fairly soon, though, there came an interruption. A very handsome young man entered.

“Ronald is our favourite cousin!” Miranda said proudly. She promptly threw herself into his arms and kissed him. During this sweet interval, Pamela was excited to see that Ronald's hands were straying. One found its path upward to Miranda's bubbies, which were already the size of small melons. With the other he boldly caressed her bottom.

Helen laughed and looked at Pamela.

“You see, he is very forward! He must greet you next.”

“No, it is not my turn. Two sisters must be kissed one after the other,” Pamela replied, though secretly she was agog to feel the young man's arms around her.

Then Helen jumped up and took her turn. Coiling her slender white arms about her cousin's neck, she announced the intention of giving him “the longest kiss in the world.”

“Oh, come, we shall time you, then! Let us count Miranda. One, two, three, four…”

It was the most breathless kiss Helen had ever given, but she had been dying to do it and to feel Ronald's tongue all around her own. Besides, Ronald always handled her very naughtily-much more so than he did Miranda. When their lips met, his hands immediately cupped her bottom and felt the lovely resilience of its cheeks.

Quite forgetting herself, Pamela clapped and said, “Oh, yes, hold her thus!”

“Quickly-let us pull her skirt up,” Miranda whispered. Both were sitting on one bed while the enlaced couple stood quite near them.

“No, it is too bold!”

But no sooner had Miranda jumped up than Pamela followed. Quite absorbed in her long kiss, Helen did not hear them or sense their movements until, with a shriek, she felt her skirt pulled quite up to her waist.

Ronald was delighted. He had long cherished a desire to feel properly one or other-or both-of his pretty cousins' bottoms and now the chance was his. Instantly the plump young cheeks were in his clasp, veiled only by a modest pair of drawers.

“Her drawers! Take her drawers down! Oh, Ronald, dear, be daring!”

Helen shrieked. She fought to escape from her cousin's doughty grasp, for already she could feel his stiff prick thrumming away under his trousers. It was a very naughty thing, she knew, but she had often wanted to clasp it and feel how long and thick it was. Now, however, her good upbringing came to the fore and she kicked and cried as the excited trio bore her back to the nearest bed.

Pamela could scarce contain herself. As much as she had enjoyed the rude entries of Mr. Rumple's prick in her two orifices and in her mouth, she wanted to see another girl receiving the like. Therefore, while Ronald fell to his knees and began lavishing lustful lasses upon Helen's bared thighs, Pamela sprang on to the bed and leaned over her.

“What an adorable mouth you have! Let me kiss it! Don't you want to have your injection?”

“What? Oh, stop him-he is taking my drawers down! What is an injection? Oh!”

Pamela realised her great mistake. It must be a secret, as she had been told, and it could not be if three were present. Or so she reasoned. Jumping up, she seized hold of Ronald's shoulders, although he was already in the process of loosening the ties of Helen's drawers.

“No, you bad boy, stop immediately. The game has gone far enough. Out quickly, or I shall tell Sir Richard!”

Poor Ronald leapt up, his cock standing proud in full view of all three, for he had loosened his trousers in anticipation of the event. Miranda shrieked and covered her eyes. Helen fell back, as if she had fainted.

“Out, sir, out! What is this wicked thing you show us? Put it away this instant and go!”

Quickly and rather painfully, since his cock was wound up fully like a spring, Ronald obeyed. The thought that he might be uncovered in a different way made him blanch, for he knew how stern Sir Richard could be. Mumbling such apologies as he could contrive, he fled, leaving Pamela to lock the door.

“Oh, my poor Helen, what a shock it must have given you. 'Twas but a girlish game. Forgive me!”

Throwing herself down beside the panting girl, Pamela found Helen's lips and kissed them sweetly. Rather to her surprise, the tips of their tongues touched in a way she had not imagined those of girls might do. The sensation was quite enervating. In another moment, they were locked in each other's arms. Helen's natural appetite had been aroused, and despite her cries of alarm, she needed the exciting comfort that Pamela was giving her. Her lips parted slightly, inducing Pamela to prolong the kiss.

“What is an injection?” Helen asked breathlessly when their sweet mouths parted at last.

“Yes, I want to know, too. Is it nice?” Miranda asked.

“It is very nice, but the first time it happens, you have to be examined,” Pamela replied solemnly. She explained that that meant taking all one's clothes off, except perhaps for stockings and shoes. The two sisters listened agog.

“Oh, tell us more, Pamela!”

“No, I cannot, for I believe that is a gentleman's prerogative. However, I will show you a little what it is like. Loosen your drawers properly, Helen, and take them off.”

When Helen did so, wonderingly, Miranda decided to follow suit. It was going to be the most exciting secret they had ever learned. Surprised by her own boldness, Pamela knelt down and gazed up-at the lovely vistas between their thighs. Both the girls' cunnies were plump and well nested with curls, and when they allowed their thighs to be drawn apart, the lips of their lovemouths parted prettily.

“Now I shall apply my tongue where the gentleman first applies his cock,” Pamela declared. Her heart beating fast, she pushed her face up between Helen's thighs and with her mouth sought the delicious slit. Its lips were warm and moist and the curls tickled Pamela's nose. Without hesitation-being quite sure that in Helen's excited state it was the proper thing to do-she drove the point of her tongue between the luscious lips and wriggled it.

“Oh, how lovely! Do it more!”

Helen's face was full of wonder. Her bottom jerked and her fingers clenched and unclenched as Pamela's tongue began to work back and forth. Lifting her legs by instinct, she placed them on Pamela's shoulders and so hid nothing of her charms. Her lovelips became moist and oily as Pamela licked her and she could not resist twisting the upper part of her body and kissing Miranda.

This, in turn, gave Pamela yet another idea. With her finger, she reached up and began to play with Miranda's slit at the same time.

“Oh, it's nice! I like it, too!”

Both the sisters' bottoms bounced now as each had the most thrilling of sensations. Their bellies tightened and they felt as if they had fireworks exploding in them. Lifting their stockinged legs even higher, they implored Pamela to go on and on. By this time both Pamela's mouth and her finger were soaked in their juices, and she herself would have loved nothing better than to be receiving an injection at the same time. The thought even crossed her mind that such a thing might be possible, but then she chided herself for being even more wicked than she was.

The girls were each coming for a third time now- she could feel it. Their eyes rolled, they hugged one another, they kissed passionately, each seeking the other's tongue, so enraptured were they that all else was cast aside.

Alas, their merry party was soon to end. Even as Pamela decided they had both had enough for the moment, there came a knock on the door. Springing up, she put her fingers to her lips and quickly threw the sisters' drawers under the bed. Bidding them quietly to cover themselves and sit demurely, Pamela then answered the door.

“Miss, I'm sorry to disturb you, but the Mistress wishes to see you.”