INHERITANCE
A dark and sadistic tale set in England during the First World War

BY DICKINS
dickins22@hotmail.com

This story is a work of erotic fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used here fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

[ part 1 ]

Simon and Victoria

It is now early spring 1918, and it would seem that the war has taken with it almost all the male population as Simon walked carefully over the cobbled streets of the Temple, using his walking stick to protect the leg he had broken as a child.

He stood out because he wasn’t wearing uniform, and became the centre of attention to all those who passed him, that was until they saw his walking stick, and then he was ignored.

Tall and lean, Simon was a striking figure in his country tweeds and the tan that spoke of much travel. Indeed, he had travelled for most of his nineteen years, not only on the continent, but also from one private school to another as his sadistic temperament towards the younger pupils got him expelled.

The barrister he was about to meet had sent the letter recalling him urgently to London from his rooms at Edinburgh University where he had been studying Mathematics, and it had taken almost two days to travel down by train for the appointment.

Negotiating the steep steps to the first floor office he entered and a young woman glanced up and smiled. He gave his name and she hurried off, returning a few moments later to usher him into Mr Bartholomew’s office.

Bertram Bartholomew had not changed. The old man came round his desk with his arms held out and warmly embraced him, clapping him on the back before releasing him.

“How are you my dear boy?” he asked.

“A little tired! The army commandeered all the carriages on the train down here, even the first class sleeper,” he explained.

“I was referring to the news of your father's death,” Bertram told him.

“I know,” Simon nodded. “It's just, that I hardly knew him,” he shrugged.

“Will mother be attending today?” Simon asked.

“No, her work at St Saviour’s precludes her from travelling,” Bertram explained, going over to the drinks cabinet to pour a sherry for them both.

“As it always did,” Simon muttered with a sigh.

He remembered a tall austere woman appearing when he was ill, caring for him until he was better, then leaving just as quickly as she had arrived.

“She does love you, you know. Both of you,” Bertram murmured, passing him the drink.

“Yes, I suppose so,” Simon said.

******

Victoria finished dressing and then looked critically at herself in the hotel bedroom mirror.

Resembling her mother, and knowing it, she had chosen to wear a black silk dress with a tight waist and full, flaring skirts.

A black chocker decorated her long neck with a cameo brooch at the front, and her hair had been pulled back, and left to hang freely to the small of her back. She smiled, her full lips thinning, and her eyes twinkled merrily, and at eighteen she was a stunning looking young woman.

“You look divine Madam,” the young maid told her.

Victoria's smile grew as she turned to the girl who was so naive and trusting, so delicate and slender. She sauntered over and caressed her cheeks, watching, as they grew bright with her blushes.

“Will you be here when I return?” Victoria asked.

Victoria’s eyes darting over the young girl, leaving her in no doubt as to what would be expected of her.

“If Madam wishes,” the young girl breathed.

The girls at her school had been the same; ready to do anything if it meant being Victoria’s friend. Victoria grinned, she'd be in the mood when she returned, she knew.

A mood to pin the child down and ravage her brutally. The girl’s soft and pale skin would rapidly and vividly mark, leaving a testament to Victoria's love. Afterwards, she would kiss the marks, rekindling her excitement for a second bout of sadistic pleasure.

With that thought, she left her suite at the Ritz and ordered a cab to take her to her appointment at the Temple.

She would have preferred to walk, knowing that her figure would have turned all eyes, but today she had business to attend to and wasn't in the mood to tease.

Not at all like her days spent at school in France and Italy, she and the three others she considered her closest friends, teasing both the boys and the innocent younger girls with the same and equal delight.

It had been a particular delight, teasing then scolding, just to see what the pretty things would endure just to be her friend. She wrote of her many conquests to her mother, and of those that had conquered her, though they became fewer and fewer the older she grew.

Her mother would respond, tutoring her from hundreds of miles away, sharing her knowledge, not only in various methods and devices, but also in attitude and approach too.

Now eighteen, Victoria felt capable of just about anything.

******

Simon stood as his sister Victoria entered the room, flowing rather than walking, the similarity to their mother not lost on him.

Taking her hand he kissed it, masking his confusion as his heart pounded at the very sight of her.

Watching them greet each other, Simon's gentle kiss of his sister's hand, followed by her light laugh and embrace of her brother, made Bertram smile.

He could sense the close bond between them, as it was the same bond that their parents had.

He couldn't put it into words, but realised with a new understanding why their parents had demanded that they were kept apart as much as was possible.

He served Victoria with a sherry and poured fresh glasses for himself and Simon, and then returned to his desk to look at the legal papers before him.

“Are you ready?” he asked the two young adults.

They nodded, Simon sitting with the illusion of being relaxed, whilst Victoria sat erect and prim, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

“I don't know what you have been told, but your father died on active duty while in France and was buried with his men,” Bertram told them.

“He left considerable assets, having invested wisely over the last few decades. In addition to the family estate in Kent, your father also owned shares in St Saviour’s. This, together with fifty percent of his cash and shares, will go to your mother,” Bertram told them.

“The remained will be split equally between you both, on condition that at least one of you resides at Birchwood Grange the family estate,” Bertram stipulated.

“I don't even know where it is,” Simon admitted.

“Birchwood Grange is situated just south of Maidstone,” Bertram said.

“For centuries it has stood majestically on two islands in the middle of a lake with sufficient private grounds to hide it totally from all public roads and other properties,” he said with a smile.

“So, we can't sell it?” Victoria asked.

“No!” Bertram told them.

“Your father’s investments total over two million guineas, and will provide you with a handsome income, certainly more than you would need for a lavish lifestyle, if that's what you wish to lead,” he told them.

“Meaning?” Simon asked with a sly grin.

He knew when Bertram wanted to say something but did not want to presume.

“Well, only in as much as to remind you that your parents found their satisfaction and fulfilment away from the limelight. I don't wish to presume that you will follow that path, but only wish to remind you that, once you bring yourself into society, it is very difficult to depart quietly from it,” he argued.

“A valid point,” Simon conceded.

“I think we should take a look before deciding what to do,” he suggested.

“What about Mother?” Victoria asked.

“Your mother is quite content to continue looking after the orphans at St Saviour’s, many of whom are now from Europe,” Bertram related, his face now set into bland lines that refused to admit, either way, whether he knew of the true purpose behind the orphanage or not.

“I bet,” Victoria grinned.

She once harboured thoughts of joining her mother, but had seen the folly in that when she had spent a day there.

She couldn't have lived under the shadow of her mother, and nor would Alice have put up with her, as they were far too alike, and yet so dissimilar too.

“So, we're off to Maidstone!” Simon announced.

******

They set off the following day, Simon with a sore head having over-indulged the previous evening following a fruitless search to find someone to entertain his sadistic passions.

In contrast, Victoria looked lovely and relaxed, often smiling out of the window of the train as she recalled just how naive the maid had been, and how delightful her education had proved. It had been hours before Victoria had been satisfied enough to allow the poor girl some respite.

Bertram hid behind his newspaper only coming out from behind it when Simon offered him a drink from his flask. Victoria also declined and sipped from her own.

A car was waiting at the station to take them to Birchwood Grange, a drive of nearly 20 minutes along the Hastings's road.

When they were near, it turned off to follow a winding trail through woodland, and over a rise before the house was visible before them, resplendent in its many acres of parkland. They followed a circular route to the house, over a wooden bridge to pass between the walls of the gatehouse with only inches to spare, before stopping at the entrance, the most recent part of the building and only built 100 years before.

The butler bowed formally at the door and welcomed them in, standing back to allow them to see the row of staff that waited to greet their new employers.

A little daunted, Simon and Victoria stepped forward, nodding as the first in line curtsied.

“This is Mary Smith, chambermaid,” the butler told them. “And this is June Parker, the second chambermaid.” he announced as she did a quick curtsy, a pretty blush on her cheeks.

“This is Mrs Carol Smith, the housekeeper, who is Mary's mother,” he said. The woman bowed politely and they moved on, to be introduced to a stout woman called Agnes Harris who was the cook and the wife of Walter the chauffer.

The butler’s name, they learnt, was John Marks.

“Do you have anything to say to the staff?” he asked Simon politely.

“Nothing yet,” Victoria quickly interrupted, smiling her best when the butler looked shocked and Simon, confused.

“You can release them to their normal duties,” she added.

“And then you can show us what we have inherited.” Simon told him.

The family room was pleasant enough with a large fireplace and some very comfortable furniture. Electricity had been fitted and the light gave the room a pleasant glow, the windows being narrow and facing north.

“Birchwood Grange is certainly an impressive place,” Simon remarked.

Far better than the digs he was used to at University. His life there seemed far away now, as he faced up the probability that he wouldn’t ever return and was surprised to find that it didn't upset him.

“I assume that you are aware that your father had certain passions, shall we say?” Bertram quietly asked.

“What? He indulged in them here?” Simon asked in surprise. He looked towards his sister and saw that, she too, looked surprised. Even with thick walls like these, the screams would easily carry to the staff's quarters. What, he wondered, did the young chambermaids think?

“Yes Sir! Other members of his family also shared his passions. Some of the equipment dates back to the sixteenth century, which is why I mention it, as John is sure to show them to you and I wouldn't want you appearing ignorant,” Bertram said with a smile.

“I see.” Victoria said, her eyes turning grey as she stared hard at the old barrister.

“And is there anything else we need to know?” she said.

“Well, now that you mention it,” Bertram said, not in the least put off by her stare.

“A well established custom is for Sir Richard’s tenants to bring their children to him for his pleasure, whatever that may be, in return for a dowry; a sum of money to help them when they become adults.”

“I think we know what a dowry is, thank you,” Simon snapped.

“Well, I only mention it because, this custom has developed over the last few years and it is not uncommon for the tenants to bring their children as soon as they reach puberty.” Bertram grinned.

“Well, well. Father was kept busy, wasn't he?” Victoria mused.

“Little boys and girls being brought here to be abused, and for just a few guineas. I ask you, where else could you possibly get a better deal?” Victoria asked them with a smile.

Simon was aghast. How could his sister talk so openly about it?

“It doesn't shock you?” he asked.

“Of course not! Surely you're not?” she countered, sitting on the edge of the couch and lifting a hand to slowly draw off her glove.

“I don't think that's any of your business!” he told her sharply.

Victoria grinned up at him, her eyes twinkling. “Me thinks my brother refutes the allegation too strongly,” she chuckled.

“This is preposterous! I'm not going to have my sister question my sexuality, God Dam it!” he cried.

“Oh Simon, stop it please!” Victoria snapped.

“Let's face it; we are our parents' children. How much is hereditary, I have no idea, but plainly speaking, I'm quite happy to continue the family tradition. There it's said. I am a disciplinarian, and have a passion for children and I am bisexual. Come or go as you choose, I’m going to stay here,” she told him and the old barrister, who stood watching the interplay with a worried frown.

Simon closed his mouth with an audible snap and cast around him for a drinks cabinet. “I need a drink,” he told them.

“Allow me Sir,” said the butler, quietly entering the room to make his way across to the drinks cabinet. Simon found himself blushing as he wondered how much the man had heard, and ground his teeth together as he saw that Victoria seemed unworried as to whether he had or not.

“Just how large is Birchwood Grange?” Victoria asked, removing her other glove.

“Twenty guest rooms and a dining room large enough for thirty. Sir Richard seldom entertained though,” the butler said.

“I hear otherwise!” Victoria grinned.

“Ah yes!” He nodded, passing the glasses around on a small tray a sherry for her, two tumblers of good scotch for the gentlemen.

“Birchwood Grange is actually a number of buildings, the crypt being the oldest dating back to the eleventh century, and is situated on an island. The installation of electricity, heating and modern plumbing were the most recent additions,” John explained.

“I bet those were much appreciated,” Simon grinned.

“Yes Sir! Sir Geoffrey, your grandfather, often remarked that the crypt was cold enough to freeze his balls off,” the butler remarked dryly.

“Is that where the equipment is kept?” Victoria asked, feeling a real thrill, being so close to a real dungeon, not just fake one like her mother had so cleverly built in the basement of St Saviour’s.

It was as if her body could feel the agony of those who'd been there, as if their screams of pain were soaked into the thick walls and even now, seeping into her body.

“Most of it Madam,” John agreed.

“The smaller items, and more modern equipment, are in the room next to your father’s bedroom,” John explained.

“Let them see the crypt John,” Bertram pressed.

The butler nodded and then led them from the room, along corridors and through various thick doors, until they sensed themselves moving into an a much older building, to descend a set of narrow stairs to reach the crypt itself.

Simon and Victoria were together in sensing the age and long use of the dark and vaulted room. Plaques of bronze and stone recorded the names and dates of ancestors buried there, some half hidden behind the equipment that had been set up in front of them.

Victoria's breathing quickened, her breasts feeling the restrictions of her dress, as she looked at all the apparatus that had been used for generations by her family.

Simon licked his lips as he thought of their limbs being tied to the old beams and spread wide apart, while terrors were whispered into their ears. He could imagine his cock piercing their bodies so fresh blood and semen could drip and further stain the smooth stone floor at his feet.

John told them the history, but neither was listening as they reached out to feel the shackles and metal restraints. They walked round, the rotund space making the room intimate without being close. Then they were outside again, each other's face displaying their arousal.

John led them into a narrow hall that had one wall overlooking the lake. Against the other hung metal frames that had been placed in various positions.

To others he would have explained how they were used, waiting for a glimmer of understanding to pass across their faces.

But not these two, they seemed to know immediately without need for any explanation. He watched them reach out and caress the implements, blinking as he felt himself grow aroused, a sensation he didn't think he'd ever feel again.

“Perhaps you could show us the more pleasant aspects to the property? The bedrooms, sittings rooms, etc?” Bertram asked politely, his body now starting to respond to the way that Simon and Victoria caressed the devices, which spoke of more than just passing interest, but of a true passion.

John led the way, his recital falling on deaf ears as he showed his visitors around the estate, returning finally to the comfort of the family room again.

“So?” Bertram asked, standing in front of the fire, whilst Victoria and Simon choose to sit on the couch.

Cautiously licking his lips Simon glanced at his sister. “I don't think we need to be too hasty in our decision,” he murmured.

“I quite agree,” Victoria nodded. “Although, I would obviously be guided by the two of you in any decision,” she added with a flutter of her eyelids.

Simon glanced at her again, wondering if she was mocking them or not, then nodded and smiled. “I'll stay the night, perhaps find out how good the food is here,” he offered.

“I'll join you, if I may,” Victoria said, smiling her sweetest at her brother. “I feel terribly weak after the long journey, and I doubt if I would be able to return to London today anyway.”

“Well, perhaps you would be kind enough to offer me lodging for the night then?” Bertram asked.

Victoria grinned while Simon looked put out, but unable to think of any way to change their minds.

******

The following morning Simon and Victoria walked the grounds and then relaxed in the rooms assigned to them. After eating in the breakfast room that overlooked the north side of the lake, then strolled up to the stables where a dozen horses were stabled, large beasts bred for hunting.

Victoria was more interested in the tackle room than the horses and left it to Simon to discuss the finer points of their breeding with the trainer while she walked among the bridles and saddles, stroking the leather and adjusting the straps.

Later, Walter brought the car round and they took a short trip to the nearby village where they met some of the locals, discussing the war and the weather with equal severity among the shopkeepers and farmers they met, and then stopped at the local inn for a sip of the locally brewed ale before returning to Birchwood Grange.

Simon's impatience grew with the darkening of the sky. Unable to sit still, he paced the warm sitting room, glancing at the many paintings that hung on the wood-lined walls. Victoria engaged Bertram in telling her anecdotes about their parents and laughed gaily at the funny ones, further irritating Simon who was scowling at her fiercely, and without any visible affect.

It wasn't until shortly before nine that evening that the front door bell rung. Simon stopped his pacing to listen, his ears straining to hear the conservation, and find out who could possibly be calling at this late hour.

Even Victoria was unable to keep up her pretence of disinterest, and also listened, her breath held as she imagined the butler making his steady way to the door to question the visitors before allowing them in, and then showing them to the sitting room to wait until they were called.

There was a quiet tap on the door, and then the butler entered bowing before announcing that they had visitors.

“A mother has brought her two sons to earn their dowry,” he intoned without any facial expression.

Simon let out the breath he'd been holding and grinned with relief at the others.

“Well, I suppose we should see them,” he suggested.

“It may be frightfully boring, but we should keep up the tradition,” Victoria agreed.

John ushered them in; a mother in her thirties with her sons held in front of her, both so alike as to be twins, nervously looking about them, their eyes made large and round with wonder.

Victoria wondered just how much the boys knew about what they would have to do to earn their dowries.

The mother obviously knew, as it was written in her expression as she saw the men. For a few moments there was a silence, as Simon and Bertram looked the handsome young boys over, then the butler cleared his throat and announced the visitors.

“Mrs Fay Web and her twin sons, John and Robert.” The butler intoned.

Victoria nodded and he left closing the door.

The men hungrily eyed the two handsome young boys and Victoria smiled at them for a moment before turning her attention to the mother.

She watched her glance timidly at the men, no doubt knowing precisely what would happen to them during their visit, and yet allowing it to happen to them, in return for a small dowry for her sons.

“Come,” Victoria told the boys, taking them by the hands. “Let's get to know each other a little better,” she said as she led them to the couch.

“I'll go then Ma'am,” the mother said, quickly curtsying.

“No. You'll stay. Your presence will help relax them,” Victoria told her.

From their positions in the room, Bertram and Simon looked at each other with open-mouthed surprise; astonished by the way Victoria had taken complete charge of the matter.

She turned to them and smiled.

“Are we ready gentlemen?” she asked sweetly.

“Now then,” she said, standing the boys in front of her so she could get a better view of the handsome young boys.

Their mother looked timid as she crept forward, uncertain as to her role, but the men came forward eagerly to take seats on the couch on either side of Victoria.

“Now! We are going to play a little game. I am going to ask you some questions, and you must tell the truth. Anything less then the truth, and these clever gentlemen will know, and you will then be thrown out without your dowries. Do you understand?” she asked.

The boys looked at each other, then nodded.

“How old are you both?” Victoria asked.

“Twelve, Miss,” Robert, said.

“These are fine clothes you are wearing,” she said, reaching out to feel the quality of the fabric.

“Did you dress yourselves, or did your mother help you?”

“Mother helped us,” John said as they both blushed and glanced her way.

“They're always rough, far to rough for good clothes,” she explained hurriedly.

“Something we must correct,” Victoria said with a smile.

“But really, still being dressed by your mother!” she chided.

“Does your mother see you naked”? Victoria asked softly.

The boys both nodded without hesitation.

“Yes Miss!” She bathes us in front of the fire,” one of them told her.

“Does she Really? Big boys like you? You are big boys, aren't you?” Victoria asked.

Stopping her aimless caressing, she took hold of their cocks through their trousers, one in each hand and roughly squeezed them.

Almost immediately she felt their cocks harden and chuckled as they gasped and rose onto their toes with the pain. Behind them, and out of their sight, their mother blushed and lifted a hand to her face.

Victoria continued to squeeze their cocks, allowing both men to see how much of a bulge they made in their trousers.

“Do your cocks get hard, when your mother baths you?” Victoria asked gauging their length and feeling her own cunt swell with excitement.

They both nodded, hot faced and breathing heavily, their eyes darting to the adults who were avidly watching the bulges grow in response to Victoria's sly hand movements.

“Do your cocks get hard like this when you see your mother naked?” she asked them.

Some of the colour had drained from the boys faces and they glanced at each other while, behind them, their mother looked as if she had been struck from above.

“Don't tell me that you have never seen your mother undress before!” Victoria chided, leaning forward slightly to afford the young boys a glance down the front of her bodice. The boys glanced at each other and licked their lips, silently communicating as twins sometimes do.

“We have seen her a couple of times,” Robert said. “We think she done it on purpose. Letting us see like,” the other said, both too similar for Victoria to tell them apart.

“And was she nice?” Victoria asked in a whisper.

Releasing her grip on their cocks Victoria reached behind her, her attention full on their young faces as she undid a few of the hooks at the back of her bodice and felt the restraint on her able breasts subside.

From across the room came a low moan as Simon watched her, his face a mirror of his deep arousal and longing.

“She was nice, Miss,” one of the twins said, Robert or John, Victoria couldn't tell, his eyes fastened to her breasts. “But not as nice as you,” the other one blurted, a new blush to his cheeks.

“You mother tells me you're both old enough to pleasure me. Is that true?” Victoria asked.

She lent forward again, well aware the boys would now be able to see the smooth flesh of her breasts and roughly massaged their cocks and squeezed their balls until a thrill shot down to her cunt as she felt them both suddenly swell and lurch, practically both at once.

The boys gasped and jerked, their eyes never wider as they came for the first time under someone else's direct touch.

“Oh dear,” Victoria murmured.

“You've dirtied your underpants, haven't you?” she chided.

Wide eyed and open mouthed, the boys shamefully nodded, their loins bucking unintentionally forward as Victoria knowingly squeezed their softening cocks to make them swell once more.

“Do you know what happens to dirty little boys?” she asked.

Wide-eyed the boys shook their heads, and then gasped as she pushed Robert slightly away from her, and brought John forward.

Sitting on the edge of the couch with her legs parted under her gown, Victoria drew John between her legs and undid his trousers. Smiling up at his burning face, she eased them down to see the mess he had made of his white underpants.

“What a dirty boy!” Victoria breathed, her hands wondering around and under the back of his underpants to feel his lovely smooth bottom.

“And is your brother dirty as well?” she asked.

Drawing Robert forward, she quickly dropped his trousers and slipped her hand under his underpants to enjoy the feel of his bottom.

“Oh, I will have to do something very special to teach you both a lesson,” she breathed, taking a firm grip of their underpants and pulling them tightly up over their bottoms.

She then turned and wedged the edge of her hands into the crease of their bottoms and using a sawing motion, brought the boys to their tiptoes as the material chaffed against their tender little anuses.

“I bet you have to be punished regularly,” she told them, watching them pant and gasp, their eyes so large she could have swum in them.

“Yes, Miss! They chorused.

“And what are you punished with?” she asked.

“A belt mostly Miss,” John, said.

Simon groaned excitedly. A young boy's anus could be as desirable as a young girl’s cunt, especially after his bare bottom had been well warmed with a spanking.

Victoria's manipulation of the boys was exciting him no end, and not only him, he reckoned, looking across to where Bertram sat, his hand lying protectively over the large bulge in his trousers.

Victoria stopped rubbing the boys underpants over their tender anuses and briskly pulled them off, along with their trousers, for a better view of their bottoms, caressing the smooth skin whilst her fingers thoroughly examined their anuses for any sign of abuse.

“No sign of any recent activity,” Victoria announced with a sigh of relief.

“Have they been punished recently?” she asked their mother.

“No,” Fay gasped, her face hotly flushed as she stared at them with excitement.

“Well, it's only proper that you are punished for being such dirty boys. But seeing that you are used to being punished, we'll have to come up with something new,” she told them, grinning as she turned them back to face her.

They both looked nervous, but not enough to cause their cocks to soften or shrink. They still stood erect, just a hint of fair hair around their loins to testify to their adolescence. Victoria gave both their cocks another stroking, and was pleased to see and feel them responding to her ministrations. She stooped down to pick up their underpants, the rich sperm clinging to the cotton. Humming to herself, Victoria inverted the cotton and rolled it up into a tight ball with as much as the soaked cotton on the outside.

The boys watched with bated breath, crying out when Victoria reached for one of them and drew him once more between her legs.

“Boys of your age are expected to control their cocks,” she said as she forced the fabric between his lips and teeth, filling his mouth, while he stared at her pleadingly.

Satisfied, she pushed him away and then dragged the other boy towards her. As with his brother, she stuffed his underpants into his mouth and grinned into his sheepish expression before she rose.

“Don't you dare try to take those out!” she told them sternly as one of them started to do just that. “If you do, then you will have your hands tied behind your back, and you will receive extra punishment,” she warned.

The boys whimpered and glanced at their mother, their eyes begging for her to intercede. Instead, she swayed and licked her lips, her eyes fastened on their handsome cocks while her breasts rose and fell with her heavy and deep breathing.

“So, you enjoy teasing Robert and John, Mrs Web?” Victoria said.

The woman gulped and looked towards the men in hope of a saviour.

Neither seemed inclined to help her though. Simon was staring at the young boys and licking his lips while Bertram was gazing wistfully at the young woman.

“Please Madam, I only did what I thought was right,” she confided, her shaking growing as the woman moved slowly towards her.

“You've been teasing them, and no doubt getting pleasure from doing so,” she told her.

“I should throw you all out right now,” she told them.

“Oh Madam, no, please don't,” the woman whimpered while nearby, her boys made gurgling noises as they swallowed.

“Perhaps we should watch you educate them,” she murmured, her eyes passing the woman by to look along the room to her brother.

He was gazing avidly at the boys who, dressed in just their shirts, were unknowingly giving him an uninterrupted view of their tight little bottoms.

Victoria felt a thrill race through her as she thought of watching them being buggered, while she helped, under the pretext of trying to comfort them of course.

“No, no, I couldn't!” Fay gasped, her face turning pale while her eyes widened.

“I think it's time your sons saw you properly.” Victoria grinned.

“Perhaps Mr Bartholomew would be so kind as to help?” she asked.

Bertram was there in just a moment, despite the bulge in his trousers that made it hard for him to walk. Turning the woman, he attacked her dress, opening each hook and eye with fingers surprisingly nimble for one of his age, before dragging it from her shoulders.

“Not bad,” Victoria nodded.

She eyed up her figure while he hastily worked on the cotton loops and buttons of her gingham shift. Fay blushed brightly and turned away from the hot eyes of her boys as, having won his battle with the small buttons, Bertram pushed her shift down, baring her breasts.

“Wow! Look what you're doing to your boys!” Simon called, grinning broadly as he pointed to the upright young cocks that shook with new vigour while the boys stared open mouthed at their half undressed mother.

“And did you let them see your cunt?” Victoria asked while Bertram worked hard to free the lower half of her shift.

“I never meant too,” she mumbled, her face glowing and her eyes stealing to their rampant little cocks.

“Oh, I bet you did,” Victoria chuckled.

The lower part of the woman's shift slid off her stout hips and her nakedness was revealed, the rolled lips of her cunt practically obscured by a thick mat of dark curls. Her legs worked to try and hide herself, and tears rolled slowly down her cheeks as the boys stared entranced at their mother's nakedness.

“Will one of you gentlemen please lend me your belt?” Victoria said.

Fay sobbed and looked away, the way her body shook making Victoria moisten at the thought of the fun she was about to have with her.

“What do you plan to do?” Simon asked, his own excitement making his cock stir as he slid the belt from its loops.

Victoria eyed his prominent bulge and wondered at it.

She admitted to preferring women and girls, in the main because they were more knowing and versatile, yet she didn't hold men in distain as her mother appeared to do, and was quite happy to share their bed.

She only hoped he wasn't like many of the men she had met, fucking her quickly and leaving her frustrated while they quickly fell to snoring beside her.

Her mother often coupled sister and brother at St Saviour’s. Perhaps there was more sport to be had with an incestuous type relationship.

“A little sport with the mother and her boys,” she told him, taking his offered belt. Their hands touched and a current spun up their arms causing them to look into each other’s eyes.

“I hope your plan allows for the boys to ease this pressure I have,” Simon asked, grinning sheepishly.

Victoria looked down at it again and smiled.

“It will definitely be looked after,” she avowed.

“And I?” Bertram called.

“And you too,” Victoria grinned.

She was already wondering at what that scene might look like; the aging barrister mounted behind one of the boys, ploughing his sturdy cock back and forth in the tight little channel of the little boy's anus before turning him to enjoy the taste of his sweet young cock before it was made to spurt again.

“Please Madam, not like this,” Fay wept.

“Over the couch,” Victoria told her, using a voice the brooked no argument.

The woman sensed it and shuffled over to the couch, her face already flushed before she dropped herself over the back to present them all with her proud bottom.

“Your thighs well apart if you please,” Victoria added, watching and admiring the woman while wrapping the buckle of the belt about her right hand.

While the mother whimpered and submitted, Bertram and Simon went to John and Robert and quickly undressed them before then standing each boy in front of them to watch their mother’s ordeal. In that way, they could run their hands freely over their smooth young flesh, while right in front of them the show continued.

The boys were so entranced by their mother's nakedness that they seemed only half aware of the men's hands roughly caressing their cocks, balls and bottoms.

With gasps, the circling fingers of the men made them jerk forward, new pleasures shooting through them. And right before their eyes, Victoria swung the belt through the air to bring it down with a loud crack across their mother's bottom.

Fay gasped and jerked, tears falling from between her tightly closed eyes as the fiery pain swept into her. The whistle of the leather gave her some warning, but nothing could prepare her for the sudden lancing hot pain that swiftly darted into her, to be then followed by the dreadful heat that wormed throughout her bottom making her toss and squirm, no doubt to the men's amusement.

Victoria stopped for a moment to fondle the firm globes of the older woman's bottom, and pull cheek from cheek for a few moments so that the boys and men might spy the dark aperture of her anus.

Then she returned to the whipping, raising slender red lines across both the cheeks, each one bringing a new and agonising cry from the woman. The boys appeared enthralled, and were clearly excited.

The men kneeling behind them were also flushed, but not as vividly as the naked boys whose young and virile cocks stood out before them, kept agonisingly stiff by the men’s rough handling.

As one, the men began probing between the boy’s bottoms, searching for their anuses while the boys panted and squirmed, their attention diverted by the soft stroking of their cocks and balls, and the view of their mother in front of them.

Their little anuses found, the men groaned and panted and stroked the darling little knotholes.

Excitement rising to a new level, they licked their lips and probed, insinuating digits into the clenched little channels while holding the boy from trying to jerk away.

Victoria, keenly aware of what the men were now doing, stopped her flaying of the woman's bottom to use her hands in parting it more fully for the boys to see the dark ring of their mother's anus.

And as they watched, their own bodies arched as they felt the sharp pain of their own defilement, Victoria sunk her thumb deep into their mother's anus and turned her hand to then dig her long nailed fingers into her meaty cunt.

Fay arched her back to raise her head in a long wail. A hand on the small of her back kept her in place while nailed fingers dug into her sensitive places, hurting her and yet raising her wetness.

Two, then three fingers entered her cunt, working against her channel in an effort to broaden and open her. She wailed again as the thumb thrust harshly inwards as deep as it could get, and the three fingers in her adjoining channel pushed upwards to massage the flesh between her two passages. Tears forgotten, she cried out and arched, offering herself up to the harsh delights she was being used for.

Simon showed Bertram the way of it, undoing and lowering his trousers before sitting on his legs and drawing the standing boy back, towards his stiff cock.

The boys, enthralled by their mother's ordeal, stumbled innocently backwards, dropping downwards while fingertips held their tender anuses open, ready for their impalement.

“Look! Watch!” Victoria told the boy’s mother, grabbing the woman's hair to pull her head round so she might see.

She slid her wet fingers out to add the last of her fingers, then pushed them back into the woman's wet cunt, once more stretching her apart, forcing her knuckles into the succulent flesh while, before the woman's eyes, her two little boys howled into their gags.

The room was filled with the muffled howls, squeals and whimpering of the three family members.

The mother wept for her sons lost innocence, even as she dipped her back and soaked the hand pumping her cunt. Pleasure vied with horror and she prayed softly to herself with self-loathing.

The boys screamed relentlessly into their underpants, tears pouring down their cheeks as the men behind them pulled them down by their hips. The men grunted, forcing their cocks into the young boys tight little bottoms, then savouring it by reaching further round to grab hold of their hard cocks.

“So tight and hot!” Bertram remarked breathlessly, thrusting the boy downward as the lad lost his breath. His tight anal ring clenched for a moment, a sensation bordering on painful, but made his cock swell and feel twice its actual size.

The fresh squeal from the boy made the old man's cock jerk with fresh delight and, suddenly, he was coming.

Simon wasn't that far behind. He'd managed to slide most of his cock into the young boy's fundaments and it only needed him to reach round to feel the lad's continuing erection, and then to lean back as far as he could to look down on their joining, for the full pleasure of what he was doing to burst upon him, releasing the tenuous hold he had on his sanity.

With a cry that shadowed that of the impaled lad, Simon felt his pleasure spurt into the boy, bathing them both in its wetness and heat.

And while the boy wept, Simon held him tightly to him, rocking back and forth until his passion eased and his shrinking cock slid from the poor boy's bottom.

Victoria pulled her hand from the mother's cunt, her thumb pulling on the tightened anal sphincter and causing Fay to cry out as it left her. Then she was pulling the woman to the carpet in front of the boys, her face wanting a cold flannel from the heat it was radiating.

“Go to your mother boys. Go on. She'll make you feel better. You may remove your gags from your mouths now,” she told them.

Crying fitfully and holding their violated bottoms, the boys scurried over to their naked mother who wrapped her arms about their slender frames and drew them into her embrace.

Their wet faces became pressed to her breasts while her hands took over from theirs in rubbing their sore anuses. They in turn wrapped their arms about her waist and hips, unintentionally gripping her meaty bottom but giving the watching three an erotic sight of family nudity.

Pulling their underpants from their mouths, they pressed their lips to the full curves of their mother's breasts and looked up to gauge her mood as they found her large dark nipples.

The men wiped themselves on the woman's gingham underwear and watched the naked trio, they’re breathing still loaded with excitement.

Victoria went up to the trio and held the woman's face to gently kiss her on the mouth.

“Was it so bad?” she asked her softly.

The woman held her sons more tightly and burnt as she realised her children were suckling from her, little hands holding her breasts to help them do so.

“May we go now?” she asked humbly.

“Oh, my word no!” Victoria laughed.

“Tell me, how much of a dowry were you expecting?” Victoria asked.

Mrs Webb licked her lips and glanced towards the men, trying to judge them by their clothes and their manner, a difficult task while their trousers remained about their knees.

“Ten guineas each?” she suggested hopefully.

“Ten Guineas.” Victoria nodded and considered.

“We will double that,” she told the woman, startling the two males in the room.

“But you must do a couple of things first,” Victoria told her.

The woman gulped and looked Victoria in the eye.

“And what are they?” she asked, her voice breaking at the very end.

“You are to suck them, and let them fuck you,” Victoria told her.

“Oh my God!” the mother gasped, her limbs beginning to shake all over again while the boys stopped to look up at their mother and wait for her reply.

“Very well!” Fay said looking at Robert and John, knowing just how much of an ordeal this would be for them, but only really thinking about the pleasure it would bring her.

******

A chair was placed before the fire and Fay knelt beside it before laying her torso across the seat. Her boys waited to one side, each looking on excitedly.

Victoria knelt and stroked Fay’s hair from her face, then smiled.

“Would you prefer them in any particular order?” she asked.

The mother burnt and looked over to her twins.

“Robert! Come kneel in front of me. John, you do as the lady tells you,” she told her them.

Bertram and Simon stepped forward with the boys and watched hungrily as they knelt at either end of their mother, their faces expressing their awe, their cocks rampant. Mrs Webb drew Robert to her mouth and then covered his cock with her lips, closing her eyes as the audience watched in excitement.

The boy’s mouth hung open as he panted, pushing himself deeper and then gasping as his mother swallowed, her tongue as well as her lips now working together around his cock.

To her rear, Simon knelt at one side, Victoria at the other, and then working together; drew her labia apart and pushed John forward.

His cock entered his mother's cunt. With a loud gasp, the boy pushed himself fully into her, a look of profound pleasure on his face as he experienced the delight of having his mother's cunt surrounding and sucking on his young cock. Simon's cock rose once more and he stood and pulled John’s face to his crotch, feeding him his cock even as the lad began pushing his cock back and forth into his mother, moving now with short stabbing motions. He spluttered and coughed; yet Simon held him hard onto his cock while watching the boy thrust into his mother's pliant flesh.

Seeing how it went, Bertram stepped to the other kneeling boy and did as Simon had done, offering the lad his half erect cock and forcing the boy to suck on it, even as his mother worked her mouth up and down his own young cock.

Victoria watched for a while, then taking off one of her slippers, moved casually from one boy to the other, laying the sole of her slipper firmly across their bottoms, smiling as the pale pink skin began to glow and each blow brought a jerk forward of their loins that buried their cocks more harshly into their mother.

“Time to change around now,” Victoria told them.

With the laugher of the adults accompanying them, the boys were drawn from their mother and changed around. John’s cock gleaming from the thick wetness of his mother's cunt, gasped in pleasure as her mouth covered him.

Robert, having known the pleasure of his mother's mouth, learnt a new delight as he slid smoothly into her well prepared cunt, and almost immediately began a hard and fast pace that only lessened slightly as Simon drove his cock into the boy's mouth.

Panting, moaning, heavy breathing and slurping sounds filled the room, and Victoria enjoyed watching the tableaux as the boys' heads were held to their task while their lower bodies were driven to buck back and forth by their own pleasure.

Between them, the pale form of their mother moved with her own rising passion, her hips churning and her head eagerly bobbing back and forth, as once again Victoria used her slipper to blistering their sore little bottoms.

Satisfied, Victoria sat back on the fireside rug and looked up at her panting brother. He was working hard to get the pleasure he needed to come yet again and was clearly growing frustrated.

His gaze rose from that of the mother and sons and met her own. She smiled at him and began raising her skirts. She found she enjoyed watching his eyes widen and could almost imagine his breath on her thighs as she showed him her ribbed stocking tops.

Simon cried out and jerked forward, an intense orgasm forcing him into rigidity as the first jet of seed left him.

Almost like a signal, it heralded similar cries from the others as they too suddenly reached the pinnacle of their pleasure, the boy’s pumping their youthful liquor into their joyous mother while their own throats worked hard to swallow the rich fishy gruel the men were delivering to them.

Well satisfied, they all agreed that there were certainly many more pleasures to come at Birchwood Grange.