Venus in the Country

Chapter four

Quite content with her new charge, as she liked to call her, Belinda laid no special duties on Pamela. Nor did she intend to spoil her by indulging with her again with the Captain, for she had seen how his eyes had glowed and felt not a little jealous at the beauty of the girl.

Pamela therefore found herself comparatively free. Neither Helen nor Miranda had attended previously to lessons much, for it was felt that young ladies needed to know nothing more than how to dress nicely and behave with winsome charm. Being basically a serious girl, Pamela set to teaching them arithmetic in the morning and spelling in the afternoons. She also taught them a smattering of such French as she knew and determined to improve her own.

Upon asking for a French dictionary, she was told vaguely that there were French books in Sir Richard's study. It was a very grand room with a huge polished desk, bookcases, a red plush divan and pot plants that were tended daily. Pamela liked the study immediately and was only partly surprised to find another birch standing in one corner behind a large rubber plant. It seemed a good one, but she decided to leave it there.

As for the books she had to take a little ladder-a funny one that went along on wheels-and try to reach the highest shelves where the French books were. She could just see a little of their tides and was trying to reach one with her fingertips when Sir Richard entered.

He had just arrived home from London and, not having seen Pamela before, was rather astonished to see such a lissome young beauty foraging among his shelves. As for Pamela, she turned with such a start that she would have fallen had not his manly arms received her.

“Oh, sir!”

Pamela knew it was he immediately for she had seen a portrait of him in the drawing room. His finely cut features, crinkled eyes and trim moustache quite enchanted her.

“Are you a visitor?” Sir Richard asked. He could feel her breasts rising against him and the contact stirred him.

“No, sir, I am your daughters' new companion. You did say I was to come, and Lady Bromley…”

“Yes, yes, I understand, m'dear, and exceeding pretty you are, too. Come, close the door and let me hear what you have been at.”

Amused at her blushes and most taken with her form, Sir Richard poured some liqueur-to settle her after her fright, as he said-and bid her sit close to him on the divan. Haltingly Pamela told him of what she had done in the past three days since her arrival. Sir Richard listened solemnly. He had chosen her quite at whim upon receiving a letter from Mrs. Rumple in answer to his advertisement. Mrs. Rumple had said she was a “lovely girl,” and by Jove she had been “right.

“Very well, my dear,” he said in the middle of their discourse, “you may learn a little more French from my books as you wish. Allow me.”

A smile crossed his features as he went to the bookcase and drew down the very volume that Pamela had tried to reach. Whether she was an innocent or not he could not tell. There was a promising twinkle in her eyes occasionally. Handing her the book, he advised her not to open it then but to study it in bed.

“Very well, sir, I will study it diligently,” Pamela said, little knowing what awaited her.

“Tell me tomorrow what you have learned. I shall expect you to know at least a dozen words, Pamela. Do you know the French for lips as pretty as yours?”

“Levres means lips, sir.”

“Ah yes, but levres de velours means velvet lips.”

Saying this, the gallant knight slid his arm about Pamela's waist and kissed her full upon them, murmuring “Velours-velours” all the while his mouth hotly assailed her own.

Pamela could not but let a sigh escape her. Her face grew flushed, her eyes bright.

The Master's lips were firm and much nicer than Mr. Rumple's had been. Borne back upon the divan, she felt her head resting on a cushion while Sir Richard commenced to fondle first her breasts and then her thighs. Meanwhile, Pamela seemed to be receiving her first French lesson from him, for while his hand fumbled up her skirt, he explained to her the terms for thighs, bubbies, and other intimate parts of her adorable form.

Rather breathlessly, Pamela received his embrace and lay as quiet as a dove while he drew her skirt up to her hips and assailed the warm smooth skin of her thighs with his mouth. She felt quite sure that she was to receive another injection and was pleased that it was Sir Richard and not the rather rough Captain, who had made her bottom bounce so much.

“What riches!” murmured her Master as he parted her thighs. With some modesty Pamela had attired herself in white drawers. Murmuring fervently herself she received his lips exactly where her mount nestled beneath. Meanwhile she commenced to unbutton her dress at the front in case he wished to examine her more. As she did so, Sir Richard gently lifted the heavenly sphere of her bottom and began to ease her drawers down. Her muff was exquisite. Two pink lips peeped at him shyly from their nest and then he cupped her warm bottom on his palms, sliding to his knees as he did so and commenced to titillate her with his tongue.

Her breasts uncovered, Pamela began to buck and moan. She loved this just as she had liked doing it to Helen. Last night she had tongued Miranda and made her jiggle madly. Making the most delicious noises, she placed both legs upon Sir Richard's shoulders, the better that he could burrow into her cunny. His tongue licked within, making her feel quite heavenly.

An expert at this particular sport, Sir Richard had many times prepared a maiden for the fray by exciting her in this manner. Parting the lovelips, he swept his tongue upwards until he found her button which was excited now to the same degree as his cock.

Pamela's bottom bucked and bounced. Her heels drummed on his back. He was taking longer about it than Mr. Rumple had and she had come once already. Her salty effusion sprayed again upon his tongue, and both partners were ready for the bout.

Quite flushed of face and liking all he had tasted, Sir Richard got up and loosed his trousers. By instinct rather than design, Pamela threw her arm over her eyes, as if in confusion, though not so quickly that she did not see the fine sturdy tool he was exhibiting. His appendages beneath were heavy and hairy and would contain a lot to inject her with, she knew.

When therefore her lordly Master came down upon her, Pamela received him with a shy little cry of pleasure and made sure that her legs were wide open.

“Oh, sir! You are going to inject me, are you not?”

“What a delightful term!” chuckled Sir Richard, who had never heard it used in that way before. “Yes, my dear, I am going to give you the full syringe.”

So saying, and having positioned his swollen crest at the ready, he eased his loins and urged the flaming charger full within. Thus mounted, he commenced nibbling at the pretty nipples which had long erected themselves on Pamela's snowy hillocks.

The maiden writhed and clung to him. There were many ways of being injected, she had come to realise, — and for the moment Sir Richard simply kept her fully plugged and let his cock throb away its message to her.

“Oh! Keep it still like that-it's lovely!”

“I shall try-but how delicious you are! What perfect breasts, what a marvellous bottom. Clamp your legs about my waist and wriggle it!”

Pamela needed no second bidding. Winding her stockinged legs about him, she commenced jogging her bottom just enough to ease his proud cock an inch or two in and out of her. It was a lovely exercise, and she wanted it quite to go on forever, but Sir Richard- having been celibate for the past four days-was eager to spill his sperm. The girl could scarce be any tighter. She gripped him within her. Her eagerness to receive his all was passionately displayed.

Cossetting her bottom on his palms, Sir Richard began to move his prick in and out of the delightful tunnel into which it had ventured. In a moment, casting all restraint aside, their bellies began to smack lustily together.

“Oh! How lovely!” Pamela gasped again and again. Mr. Rumple had taught her in that single night to say many naughty words, but she was not sure whether she should say them now. She contented herself therefore at the peak of her pleasure by a gently whispered “fuck” into Sir Richard's ear.

The pleasure to Sir Richard of hearing such a pretty and apparently well-behaved young lady utter such a term in that velvet tone drove him quite berserk with lust. His loins threshed, his balls swung heartily against her lifted bottom.

Pamela closed her eyes. The word seemed to have had a magical effect upon him, though perhaps it was coincidence. Though she knew it not, young ladies of her age were most often silent when being mounted, having learned little enough how to satisfy a man save by opening their thighs. Perhaps such thoughts went through Pamela's mind, but being somewhat overwrought by the sensation of his prick pistoning so powerfully back and forth, she tried it again. Mr. Rumple had said she could say it.

“F… f…. f… fuck me!” she moaned.

“Ah, my dear, frequently! What a luscious little witch you are!” Sir Richard attained his climactic moment even as he spoke. Inundating her delicious pussy with his sperm, he quivered in delight and quite filled Pamela to overflowing so that her thighs were as sticky as Miranda's had been the night before.

Obediently still, Pamela waited until he had withdrawn and felt herself lovely and swimmy.

“Oh, sir, if only it could last longer!”

Sir Richard, like many men who pursue quick pleasures, had never entertained such a thought before. A frown crossed his fine features lest he had disappointed her, but then he smiled at the roguishly sly look which Pamela had done her best to conceal.

“Would you make it so? Last longer?”

“Well, sir, I imagine it could be done if one was slow enough about it. The girl would enjoy it more, I am sure, and besides it is more seductive.”

Quite taken aback by her impetuous speech, Pamela hid her eyes, fearful that he would upbraid her. Had another wench spoken to him like this, Sir Richard might have done so, but he sensed that this was no common girl. The idea of giving a woman pleasure had rarely come to him. Females, dammit, were made to give men pleasure, and those he had bedded often avowed that no one made them come so much. Now, however, a doubt seized him. Besides, he had never discussed such matters with a girl before.

Drawing her to him as they lay upon the divan, he renewed his caresses about her snowy tits while Pamela shyly held his cock.

“Tell me more of your theories.”

“Well, sir, I fear to offend you, but if a girl's button is played with longer, she comes more and is ready for it more. Then, if the gentleman lies with her and kisses her quite all over in every crevice and everywhere while she plays with his cock, she would be in a rare lather for it. But then I think he must control his movements when he is in her and take longer about it. Indeed, when you held it in me, it was most delicious!”

“I say, good heavens, you are a philosopher of love proper, Pamela! Have you had so much experience, then?”

Pamela's expression showed her shock.

“Oh, no, sir, truly, but I have thought of it. Supposing you were to try and tame a girl. How would you go about it?”

As she spoke, Pamela felt his cock thicken and begin to rise again. This time she gripped it more tightly.

Sir Richard chuckled.

“A good birching perhaps on her bare bottom and then ram it in her quick.”

“Oh, no, sir. Truly you would have the pleasure of her, but would she come back for more? Better to give her a long, light switching and then tease her up a bit. Oh! but what am I saying!”

Pamela was truly astonished at all the ideas she had expressed.

“Naught but the truth, m'dear, as I see it. By Jove, you have cast a new light on things. Many's the girl I have birched and rodded who has run a mile at the sight of me again.”

“There! Do you see! I was truly right, and now this naughty thing of yours is throbbing again and wants to inject me, I do believe!”

“Or fuck you!”

Pamela's smile was one of pure innocence as she lay again on her back.

“Yes, fuck me, but go softly and slowly about it. I shall count to a hundred and you must not be done even then.”

“What a treasure you are! Is this how you were taught?”

Sir Richard's cock had slid within. Pamela sighed and gripped it. To her distinct pleasure, he did not begin to move it at all.

“No, sir, far from it, but I have let my mind move about it.”

Whereupon she conveyed to him with little whispers all that Mr. Rumple had done, imploringly him the while to slide his cock in and out of her very slowly. Being on his second course, Sir Richard found it not too difficult to obey and listened entranced to Pamela's account of her “conversion.”

“Good heavens, the fellow certainly settled you quickly-done on both sides, as it were!” Pamela's rider chuckled. “And then you let your thoughts move about it, as you say?”

“Truly, sir, just as you may move about on me! Oh! Not so fast!”

But all was lost. Her head swirling, Pamela received both the thrusts of his tongue and his cock with abandon. Not a word had passed her lips about Lady Bromley or the Captain, nor ever would. Indeed, in that moment, Pamela thought of nothing else but the lusty joys of fucking to which she vowed to devote herself.

Quite exhausted, Sir Richard lay prone upon her at last and received the comforting of her arms the while he nibbled anew at her nipples. Finally, when they rose and tidied themselves, he confessed to her that she was verily the loveliest mount he had ever had.

“Well, sir, I shall try to please. All such things are a secret, are they not, even though Society knows of them?”

“Yes, that is true, though I had not thought of it before. It is not spoken of among the gentry here, but is well indulged for all that.”

“Yes, I was taught that by Mr. Rumple and I am sure it is true. Oh, sir, may I take the birch, or do you wish to wield it yourself upon their bottoms?”

Sir Richard cleared his throat and blushed. A certain confusion seemed to come over him. Both the girls' bottoms looked at their prettiest in their white drawers when they were bouncing under the twigs. His desk had always been the perfect place for it, but he had not given it to them of late.

“I-er-I am sure you will make their bottoms bounce yourself if the occasion is required.”

“Yes, sir, I will, for they are frisky sometimes and need a little taming. I shall do it slowly, of course, so as not to hurt the poor dears too much. Perhaps if they, too, do not learn their words from this dictionary, I shall accord them each a round dozen-on their bare bottoms, of course.”

“Herrumph! Ah, yes, naturally, but-er-I think it best they do not peruse the dictionary, Miss Rumple. You see-er…”

Pamela opened the dictionary quickly. Her eyes fell at random on a page. A slight blush stole over her features. “Pine-prick,” she read.

“I believe I understand what you mean, sir. I shall be most selective.”

With a little smile, Pamela made her exit. She clutched the dictionary tightly. If she left it lying around, the girls would be sure to peep within out of curiosity, and, if they did, she would not be there to know.

After all, secrets were of all sorts.