THE MEMOIRS OF A VICTORIAN DISCIPLINARIAN
A dark tale set in London in 1876

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 real events, locals or any persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

[ part 3 ]

Further Education

The next morning I awoke at my usual time and made my way along to the newly installed bathroom. The landing smelt of wax and polish, and the bathroom of lavender. Returning to my bedroom, I dressed in the clothes that Rose had thoughtfully laid out for me.

The Times newspaper was waiting on the hall table as I descended the stairs and I sat in the dining room and watched through the window as Sarah pushed Emily on the old swing. They both looked happy enough, I thought.

Rose brought in my breakfast and curtsied before placing the plate in front of me.

“I hope you don’t feel I’m neglecting you because of the arrival of Sarah and Emily,” I enquired.

“Not at all, Sir,” she murmured and blushed.

Whether her blushes were because of a lie, or because my hands were lifting her skirts, I was uncertain. But then, her thoughts were of little consequence. As my housekeeper she must do as she is required and I explained this to her as I slid my hand under her uniform until it met with her bare and warm thighs.

“Are you keeping yourself satisfied?” I asked.

The warmth of her thighs hinted at this and the moist and lightly furred dell I found was all the proof I needed.

“Oh yes, Sir,” Rose replied.

“Spread your thighs,” I ordered.

She did so, already panting, and the spread of her thighs helped me unfurl her flesh and enter her hot wet cunt. I watched her face as I worked on her tender and sensitive parts.

I smiled into her widening eyes as my finger pushed itself into her ready heaven, then took the slippery wetness forward to rub it gently into the dwelling of her spout, her prepuce, making her whimper and shake.

“We will ride again soon,” I promised her, bringing about her orgasm with a finger at the portal of her delicious young cunt and my thumb pressing downwards, against her hard pelvic bone.

My breakfast was almost cold when I returned to it, but the scent of Rose came to me each time I lifted the hand that held the fork, that had so recently felt her sprinkle it with her pleasure.

I had the opportunity to read the newspaper after breakfast that is until Rose interrupted me. She curtsied a little breathlessly as she announced that the tailor had arrived. I told her to show the man in and to go and fetch Sarah and Emily.

The man was brimming over with excitement as he bowed his head, his young assistant at his side, a different child from the one he had with him last time but nonetheless pretty, her slender form almost totally hidden by the bulk of material she had been made to carry.

“Sir! I bring the clothes that you ordered, and I have also brought some samples of undergarments that my young assistant will be happy to model, isn’t that right Abigail?” he announced.

“Yes, Sir,” the child replied, timidly.

“How old are you, Abigail?” I asked.

“Eleven, Sir” she replied.

Sarah and Emily entered the room, my granddaughter rushing in before her mother, her face aglow with excitement.

“See to their fittings first, then we will see what other items we may take an interest in,” I told him.

Seated comfortably, I watched with much interest as the tailor and his young assistant helped Emily remove her old and shabby garments and try on the new, stopping after each garment had been added to await my approval before continuing.

Emily beamed with happiness as she paraded in front of us in her new undergarments. The thin cotton added a spice to her near nakedness, and one I vowed to make use of, sooner rather than later.

The hem in particular, drew my eye, tossing as it did just below the curve of her bottom. Dressed as she was, she looked divine; a picture of innocence, which, I was sure, she would have looked just as pretty with the garment turned up and her little bottom aglow.

Sarah was next, and seemed relieved to be stepping out of her shoddy dress for the last time. Since informing him that a cut corset was no longer necessary, he had brought one of the latest fashion, slimming her at the waist and lifting her breasts while leaving them largely uncovered, her nipples poised for admiring.

Loose draws flowed about her loins, a deep split leaving her privates bared where necessary. Petticoats were tied about her waist and thin cotton stockings stretched to mid thigh, where delicately sewn and a garter kept them stretched. Finally, a dress, in dark blue, a seam hiding the hooks and eyes that fastened it along her back.

“Much better! Have two more made, one in red, and another in yellow for Sarah. Emily will need another, in a patterned fabric,” I told him as he made some hurried notes, licking his lips at the size of the order.

“Now! Show us the other garments you have brought,” I said earnestly, for seeing Sarah and Emily divested of their clothes had given me an appetite, and the tailor’s little assistant looked so pretty, as she stood watching. The tailor smiled as he waved little Abigail forward.

“Firstly, Sir! Let me draw your attention to her skirts,” he said.

We all looked, and despite the little girl turning for us, could see nothing remarkable about the plain cotton garb. Then, at his request, the girl took a hold of her skirts and, quite remarkably, drew them apart to reveal a split that we had not seen, and one that travelled all the way from the child’s waist to her feet.

“There’s no longer any need to crease the skirts when you lift them upon her waist. All you need to do is to draw them apart and, as you can see, you can gain immediate access,” he explained, with a smile.

By drawing her skirts apart as requested, Abigail had uncovered much more than her slender and pale thighs. Her blush was nearly as pretty as the lovely charms she had exposed and her flesh appeared to glow, so pink beside her otherwise wan skin tone.

“Also, for the budding child, I have developed corsets of soft and forgiving cotton,” he explained.

Letting her skirts return into place, Abigail helped the tailor to undo her bodice and, removing it, allowed us to see the garment he had begun to describe. It clung to her waist, artful seams applying constraint to her belly and creating a waist where developing hips would otherwise have failed. It also served to push up her chest, forming two plump little bumps around her nipples.

The tailor watched me as I looked closely at the garment, and the girl blushed, having her half nudity so closely examined by a man such as myself.

“Come here! I wish a closer examination,” I told her.

Abigail glanced at the tailor who nodded towards her urgently, and she meekly came forward, hesitantly curtsying before a final step brought her within my arms reach.

While the rest of the room watched, licking their lips and blushing with their illicit thoughts, I stroked the fine cotton of her corset, teasing myself as much as her before moving my hand to the swell of her tiny breasts, and stroking the fine skin of her dainty nipples.

“Tickles, does it?” I asked as she giggled and squirmed. I brushed my hand slowly across the material around her nipples and had never felt any stiffer, nor so small, or as prettily pink.

“Very nice,” I told him, and ordered three for Emily, which required that the child step out of her new dress so that measurements could be taken. It was a very pleasing sight to see Emily and Abigail half clothed standing side by side developing at their own pace and each slightly different to each other.

“What else have you brought to show us?” I asked eagerly.

“Well, Sir! It’s a pretty little thing of my own devising,” he said slipping his hand into his coat pocket to withdraw a wisp of fabric. “What is it?” I asked, leaning forward to get a better look at the strange garment. It was made of cotton, plain and simple, with what appeared to be a waistband with a tie, and then another piece looping upon it, front and back. “Something for the menses perhaps?” I asked.

“No Sir, though the thought had occurred to me,” he said with a smile.

“Undress!” he ordered Abigail.

Abigail undressed as ordered, and then as if well practiced stepped into what were openings in the material. He drew the material up her thighs and, at her waist, tied the material tightly. Now I could see how the looped cotton fitted snugly between her thighs, cupping her pubis and, indeed, emphasising its shape.

In a moment, she was turned, and Emily blushed as she saw just how the fabric was drawn between the cheeks of Abigail’s bottom, all but disappearing, before reappearing on its upward curve to rejoin the waistband again at the hollow of her back.

“Japanese girls wear similar,” the tailor announced.

“Do they, indeed!” I breathed, watching as Abigail turned to face me, the cotton now subtly revealing the line of her cleft, as well as the roundness of her labia.

“You’ll also notice that the fabric can be easily slid to one side, for whatever purpose,” he added.

Kneeling, he demonstrated this by drawing the fabric to one side at the front, then turning the child to similarly draw the fabric aside at the back, his rough manipulation causing her to reveal more of her lovely charms than she had possibly meant to.

“Very pretty!” I murmured, and I wasn’t referring to the garment. I had noticed that her bottom and thighs were covered in bruises and marks, so I knelt down to experiment on my own.

Using my thumb to hook under the band of cotton, I grazed her labia as I did so, and then explored deep between her thighs and roughly pinched her bottom, delighted to find that the child was so used to being handled roughly that she hardly flinched.

“She’s very obedient,” I observed, listening to her breath catch as I ran my nail slowly along the meeting of her vaginal lips, so young and refreshingly pink.

“Yes Sir! Her mother believes, quite rightly in my view, that she needs to be regular disciplined, if she is going to progress,” he explained.

“I totally agree! Perhaps I could take her into service. You see with the return of my daughter and granddaughter, we are sorely taxed for help around this large house,” I explained, with a smile.

“What about it, Abigail?” I asked, removing my hand and turning her towards me. “Would you like to work in a big house like this, and be a companion for my granddaughter Emily?” I asked.

Abigail’s face looked like Christmas and all her birthdays had come upon her, all at once. Her eyes fairly glowed at the prospect, her wondrous expression making me laugh.

“Have ten of these garments made up for all the women and girls in the household,” I told him. “Use silk, rather than cotton,” I added, imagining how the fine material would mould itself to their charms.

“Very good, Sir,” the tailor said.

“An extra sovereign if you leave the child,” I offered.

“Very well, Sir!” he replied.

“Then that’s settled,” I said.

******

Rose turned out to be a stringent taskmistress, and quickly set about teaching Abigail. The child’s clothes were thrown out as soon as the tailor had left and, although a mite too large for her, she was given one of Rose’s spare uniforms to wear.

“She’s a good little worker,” Rose told me that afternoon during the quiet spell that comes after lunch and before dinner, when the whole house is clean and the staff have a spare moment to catch up on the less regular tasks, such as polishing the silver.

Sarah, seated by the window where the light was better, nodded in agreement and then continued with her embroidery. Emily was with Abigail, and had been for most of the day; just watching as Rose taught the new maid her duties.

“Abigail’s a pretty child, don’t you think father?” Sarah murmured.

I declined to answer and ticked my finger at both she and Rose as the child knowingly smiled.

“That will earn you three strokes each!” I told them. “And Rose,” I added, “Be sure that young Abigail is ready to be properly educated,” I told her, with a smile.

She curtsied and smiled.

“Yes Sir! Don’t you worry, Sir. Abigail knows what to expect,” she assured me.

“I certainly hope so,” I murmured. The child’s tight cunt will be a veritable vice around my cock, and her slender body will be dwarfed under my own when being ridden.

“You have a filthy mind, Father,” Sarah told me, watching me and knowing what I was thinking.

“Can you blame me, with so many fillies in the house?” I asked.

Emily reappeared for dinner, flaunting her new dress and sitting like a proper little madam at the table. However, her perfect little lady act only lasted until the dessert appeared, then she crammed as much into her mouth as possible, and then had to audacity to ask for more.

Sarah admonished Emily for her poor manners, and the child glanced across to me, her coy blushes growing as she realised my smile was meant for the pleasure I would take in teaching her a much needed lesson.

“Mama! Will Abigail be joining us in the Library tonight?” she asked softly.

“I daresay she will,” Sarah replied. “Why do you ask?” Sarah asked turning towards me with a knowing gleam.

“Oh! I noticed that there were things that she did wrong,” she told us, her posture telling us that she was dying to tell us what they were.

“Really? Is that what you’ve been doing all day?” her mother asked.

“Well, no, not really. But it would be naughty, not to tell you if someone is doing things wrong, wouldn’t it?” she asked.

“You’re quite right, Emily! It’s nearly as bad as saying nothing to help the person improve, but holding the information back only to then tell those who are responsible for her education,” I told her.

Emily blushed, her whole composure deflated as she realised that she too would now be punished.

The grandfather clock began to chime the hour and I stood and checked my Hunter.

“Let us go into the library,” I told them solemnly. Sarah led Emily into the room where Rose and Abigail were waiting, the child standing only as tall as Rose’s chest.

There was a cap on the child’s head, but it failed to cover all her recently shorn hair. The uniform was two sizes too large, and it gaped revealing much of her pert little breasts. A leather belt held it tightly to her waist, emphasising how slender and slight she was, while the material fanned out and down to her little black shoes.

I was reminded of Robinson Crusoe and imagined her washed up on some deserted island, forced to wear whatever came to hand. She would soon have her own uniform, but until then, she would have to make do with this one, recognising that without the belt, her whole clothing was likely to fall at her feet.

“Rose,” I said as they formed a line. Whilst she stepped forward to curtsy and begin to tell me her sins, I took the little key from my breast pocket and unlocked the cabinet.

Despite the numerous times they had seen me open it, they all looked towards it. Abigail stared at all the implements I had collected over the years and licked her lips.

The look of fascination on Abigail’s little face made me think that she wasn’t such a stranger to being educated in this manner, and I recalled with pleasure the bruises and marks I had seen earlier on her lovely little bottom and thighs.

Rose stopped reciting her list of imagined errors as my hand came to hover above a long handled whip. She licked her lips, and glowed with her arousal as I slowly and lovingly combed the long leather strands through my fingers.

They stared mesmerised at the whip and licked their lips, their eyes seldom blinking as they watched me flick the leather strands through the air. It’s nay on impossible to inflict any real agony with this whip, that is unless, the strands are weighted with lead, which mine are not.

The many strands however, will soon bring the blood to the surface, tenderising the skin and making it sting with each new stroke. Rose knew this of old and I thought I saw a look of anticipation, rather than trepidation, on her pretty face as she began to loosen the buttons of her uniform.

The silence was almost palatable as Rose stepped from her uniform to stand naked, her young body ripe for the plucking. Emily and Abigail stared avidly at her firm young breasts, no doubt envying them, while Sarah and I looked at her slender thighs and her lovely pert bottom.

Blushing, because she purposefully took her time in bending over the table, Rose took up her position, her back dipped, her bottom thrust out and her thighs widely parted leaving her charms poised perfectly for the whip.

There was little need for any aim. My wrist just flicked the thongs across her bottom, and I watched as she struggled with the invading sensations that it caused.

I could change the angle of stroke, so instead of coming from the side, it came from above, or more excitingly, from below. I could also alter how much of the whip she felt, whether the thongs were slapped loudly upon her flesh, or whether just the very tips would land, scolding her lovely bottom and lifting her quickly onto her toes.

Finally, I could alter my aim to allow the thongs to wickedly strike in between her bottom cheeks, tenderising already sensitive flesh, and bringing new and rigorous squirming and, often breathless, low gasps and whimpers of overwhelming emotion.

Rose looked particularly appealing, tossing her bottom, now showing a pretty and blushing red with individual red lines at the edges where individual thongs of leather had landed.

Tossing her bottom, her cunt opened and closed, the lips sliding upon each other as her moistness grew. Along with the delightful view, we were treated to her quickening breath, her little cries and prolonged whimpering. I discarded the whip and used my hands, one to steady her and the other to encourage her to climax.

Her audience were enthralled by the workings of my darting fingers as they slid back and forth, wriggling across her private parts to bring loud cries of pleasure from the bent girl.

“Now Rose!” I urged, slapping her lovely bottom and then entering the tight passage of her cunt, pumping vigorously.

I would have taken my fingers out and slapped her again, but there was no need, she had already spent, keening as it held her shaking with tension while we all look on. Finally, she shuddered and then relaxed, the tension flowing to leave her panting for breath and shaking like a leaf.

“And who’s next?” I asked softly, smiling at the other three lovely creatures whilst Rose, knowing her place, walked over to the wall to stand facing it, her hands on her head.

Sarah, Emily and Abigail looked at each other, licking their lips and blushing, all of them hesitant. It was left to Sarah to step forward, her blushes brighter than those of the two nervous little girls left waiting.

“Now Sarah! What sins have you committed today?” I asked, replacing the long handled whip and waiting expectantly for her to list her trifling faults.

“I touched myself inappropriately,” she told me, her head downcast and her hands primly meshed together on her fine new skirts.

“Did you now!” I stormed, taking on the role of the disgusted puritan for the benefit of the two little girls watching.

“And I had also impure thoughts about you, Father, while you were educating Rose, Sir,” she mumbled.

“You know what such things bring, don’t you, Sarah?” I asked, my hand slowly reaching out, into the cabinet.

“Yes Father. The cane!” she whimpered.

Emily and Abigail gasped, their mouths hanging open as they saw me select one of my rattan canes. Sarah saw it, and swallowed as she reached for the fastenings of her bodice.

The rattan cane I held was not incredibly long, only twenty inches from the handle to the tip. This was the regulation length used by the army in India to punish their domestic staff.

Across the hand, the thighs, or the bottom, it had the same affect, burning swiftly into the body whilst leaving a slender welt. Unlike the bamboo cane, it has no ridges upon its length, nor any subtle differences in its width. Incredibly uniform, the mark it leaves is also a perfect line.

The last thing to say about the Rattan, and a clear advantage over the bamboo, is how far it can be made to bend before it breaks. This quality makes it much more suitable for use on children, as it can be made to curve around more easily and lengthen the resulting welts.

But I digress. Emily and Abigail stared as Sarah slowly undressed, and though she didn’t outwardly parade herself to our gaze, she did nothing to hide her womanly charms. Her breasts clung to her chest, her nipples pointing arrogantly upwards off of their full curves.

Below the downward curve of her belly, the hair was full and crisp, half hiding the prominent lips of her cunt, already crimson with desire.

Sarah approached the table and bent forward, placing her arms flat on the surface and groaned slightly as the weight of her breasts let her nipples touch the cold surface.

As she parted her thighs, I watched as Emily and Abigail stared at her fig leaved cunt, the dark curls bridging the glowing gap while leaving the rear of her slit clear, for entry.

She dipped her back and her fulsome bottom parted, exposing the deep valley of pale flesh in which the hollow of her anus lay, the dark pink notch of flesh pulsing slightly with her heartbeat.

It wasn’t often I got the opportunity to use the Rattan cane, and yet Sarah proved her worth, pushing her bottom out towards it as she felt it slide across her bottom. She moaned and turned her lead to look at me, her toes inching her thighs further apart, widening the crack in her vulva.

I raised the cane and held it poised as I checked my aim, and then brought it down with all the force I remembered using on those dark skinned girls out in India.

Sarah flung her head back and hissed as she absorbed the impact of the stroke. She gripped the table as the full weight of sensations flowed into her, her bottom rotating slowly, an eye-catching sight for Emily and Abigail watching spell bound from behind.

I placed the cane an inch below the line that was rapidly growing across her bottom and tapped, waiting for her to catch her breath before drawing my arm back for the second stroke.

In India, I insisted that the girls were made to sit astride a saddle placed upon a trestle. Then, their thighs tied to the trestle legs so that, immediately after their punishment, they could be breached or ‘ridden’ as we often used to call it.

It could take as many as three men to fully breach a girl, depending upon her age. The older they were, the tougher it was to totally rip away their maidenheads.

Sarah however needed no restraints. The second landed just below the first and she stiffened, keening softly through gritted teeth as the pain all but consumed her in fire.

Placed across the proudest part of her fulsome bottom, the welt rose the sharper and brighter of the two lines, perfectly parallel to the first. Hanging her head she panted, her body slowly softening from the all-tense position she had adopted.

“One more,” I told her.

I would never have expected Sarah to take the dozen strokes that we regularly gave the girls in India.

I tapped the soft under curve of her bottom and she whimpered and bit her lips, struggling with herself until she had adopted the perfect pose once more, presenting her bottom well out for me.

“I’ll be good, Father, I’ll be good,” I heard her mutter to herself as she dipped her back and closed her eyes.

The cane landed with its custom crack, rebounding smartly from the resilient curve of her bottom, and she was soon screeching with the pain that engulfed her, squeezing her eyes closed and reaching back in her hurry to alleviate the swelling heat.

I had seen it many times before, but the sight of a girl’s fingers desperately pushing into her vagina never fails to excite me. Sarah sank two fingers into herself, wriggling them madly back and forth while she panted and squirmed, the third line across her bottom getting ever and ever richer in colour.

“That’s it, Sarah. Be good for your Father,” I urged.

“Yes, yes! Ohh Daddy!” she begged, fingering herself hurriedly her other hand sweeping down to assist, flattened fingers pressing down upon her stem to further pleasure herself.

“Watch girls!” I urged, and could think of no better education than to learn by example.

Sarah keened again, this time long and breathlessly, her fingers slowing as it came upon her, then moving whenever needed to sustain her pleasure spike, keeping her there, above the hot throbbing of her bottom, until the platform could no longer be maintained and she came down to pant and groan and clutch at her stinging cheeks.

She rose, hot faces and cherry nippled, her hands still behind her, tracing the welts with wide-eyed wonder.

“Now! Go and join Rose,” I told her.

“Please, let me help,” she whispered, still breathless. “I could hold their wrists for you,” she suggested, her eyes bright with her lust.

“You may,” I agreed, mindful that it would arouse her lust even more and make her conducive to the entertainments I had planned for later.

“Who’s going next?” I announced.

Turning my attention to the two nervous little girls standing before me I was delighted in the contrast between them. It went beyond one child being prettily dressed, and the other in an oversized uniform.

It also went beyond one having lovely fine hair that cascaded down her back, and the other having hers recently shorn off to get rid of any lice.

It was in their eyes and the way they held their bodies. It was in Abigail’s limbs and the high rise of her cheekbones. It was also in their very natures that were so different, and in the knowledge that this would add spice to their cruel education.

“Emily,” I announced, my voice making her jump, and yet she stepped forward and clumsily curtsied.

“Have you been naughty?” I asked as I made my way to the cabinet.

“Yes Grandfather,” she murmured. Her face glowed as she nervously watched me pick an implement from the back of the cabinet, where it hung, at odds with all the other fine leather and polished wooden implements in my collection.

It constituted a loop of rubber hose, the type used in hospitals. The two-foot length of tubing, about half an inch in diameter, was looped around a handle of polished Beech, and created a length of roughly a foot long, with the double length designed to cover the fullness of a child’s bottom.

It was an interesting addition to my collection and perfect for use in a child’s disciplinary education. Soft as it was, it would have to be used harshly to cause any severe damage, and yet it would produce a real sting.

Emily gazed at the strange implement and licked her lips, her breath quickening as she thought of all the pain it was soon to bring to her tender little bottom.

“Prepare!” I told her.

I could have let her mother assist, but there was a real delight in watching her undress herself, struggling with her new dress and all the unfamiliar hooks and eyes that held it together.

Beneath she wore a thin cotton shift, her nipples pressing firmly against the fabric. Once removed she became a child once more with darling budding breasts, and a hairless and pouting vulva standing proudly at the junction of her thighs. Such lovely soft and virgin flesh, so pale and delightful, the ivory of her skin allowing her blushes to appear all the more prominent.

“Across the table!” I ordered.

Emily shuffled forward licking her lips as her mother smiled from the other side of the table.

“Come now, Emily! You know that pleasure always follows the pain,” her mother, whispered.

The child’s blushes confirmed that she knew from experience, but yet she hesitated until her mother took a hold of her wrists. Ah, but what a beautiful sight, to watch Emily’s lovely little bottom change shape as she was drawn forward, mellowing into a gentle curve, just perfect for the flexible rubber hose.

“Feet!” I reminded her, tapping her bottom.

She let out a little whimper as she obeyed, parting her thighs and exposing her charms. Seeing her like this did little to lessen the wondrous exposure of someone so young and so delicate. Her budding form could already be seen in the roundness of her labia and the shaft of her prepuce.

It was the vibrancy of the pink tone that would be lost in time, just as the gentle pink of her anus would also darken. I stepped forward and stroked her inner thighs before moving the edge of one finger up to her poised vulva to edge within the cleft of flesh and stroke the slick warm skin within.

The tension in her evaporated with my familiar touch and she melted upon my finger, gasping and panting and crying out to her mother as my touches so swiftly brought her on.

Satisfied, I licked her flavour and inhaled her scent, then recovered the looped rubber hose. With the shortness of the implement, I could stand practically at her side and watch as it bounded off her bottom, but not before it had caused her to gasp with the sensations it left.

While she reeled from the bees stinging her bottom, I delivered the second stroke, one cheek at a time, my eyes feasting on the softly rising colour and the flexing of her anus, now delightfully exposed between her writhing bottom cheeks. Gasp followed gasp, stroke after stroke, her tone subtly changed.

Her mother crooned to her, firmly holding her wrists and urging her to absorb the stinging sensations and feel, instead, the rising heat from within.

While Sarah spoke to her, I delivered another stroke, then another, and then stopped to caress her stinging bottom, soothing the warmed skin and delighting in the warm glow that came from within.

Such a tight little bottom and such a pretty cunt peeping enticingly from between writhing thighs. One could so easily forget the prime purpose and succumb to her wiles, but not me.

I drew my hand aside and delivered another hard stroke of the rubber hose, smiling as it caught the child off guard. Then I delivered yet another, aiming for flesh not yet aglow, and brightening that which already was.

I stopped, sensing that Emily was on the verge of tears and caressed her bottom, now burning brightly, and slowly squeezed the firm cheeks to feel the heat within them. Drawing Emily’s bottom cheeks apart, I glanced over towards Abigail and smiled, as she was staring in awe at her companion’s charms so wantonly displayed in front of her.

I doubted if Abigail’s cunt was quite so virginal, and I also doubted whether her bottom was as tender, but far from lessen my excitement, the very thought of it extended it. Emily whimpered and squirmed as my fingers edged to her firm vulva to drag lip from lip, exposing the little gleaming mouth to her little cunt to the enthralled audience.

“Ever had this done to you?” I asked Abigail; as I edged my fingertip into Emily to hear her breath catch, then feel her shake. Her wetness was thick and slippery, the scent both delicate and girlish, without the body and musk of an older, mature woman.

It was now doubly exciting because of it, and I licked the flavour before returning my finger to her cunt, to rapidly bring her to her second orgasm, one conducted with her mother holding her wrists and urging her on. I gathered the new wetness on my finger to suck upon it, enjoying the sweet taste while Sarah helped Emily to move aside.

“Your next, Abigail!” I announced.

The child shuffled forward licking her lips before reaching for the belt that held her uniform.

“I’ve not been bad as them has, Sir” she argued, a hint of arrogance in her voice. I corrected her English without even thinking about it, and like the others, watched with delight as her uniform fell to her feet and she finally stood naked.

“Rose tells me that you have difficulty concentrating,” I said.

“Sometimes, Sir,” Abigail replied.

Smiling, I went over to the cabinet and retrieved one of the wooden paddles. Abigail stared at it and licked her lips.

“I understand from the tailor that you have been disciplined on a regularly basis, is that correct?” I asked.

“Yes, Sir” Abigail replied.

“Have you ever seen one of these?” I asked, showing it to her.

It was four inches broad and eight long, with a curved surface that reduced the loud slapping sound made by other paddles, producing a deeper and more prolonged sensation.

“No Sir! My mother always used a birch,” she replied.

I winced at the very thought of tender little bottoms suffering from such a painful implement. I had much greater finesse and told her so, before ordering her over the arm of the chair.

The child was far too small for the table, and even placed upon the bolster of the chair, her bottom well up upon it, her feet only just touched the floor.

Instead, I turned her and had her lay along the arm, set astride it with one leg hanging towards the floor and the other bent, knelt on the seat cushion. In addition to giving me a perfect target, it also gave us all a good view of her little cunt, the inner folds peeking out from within.

“Try not to scream too loudly, or I will have to gag you,” I warned, tapping her bottom and listening to her mew with nervousness. With her bottom now perfectly poised, I raised the paddle and brought it down firmly.

“Ouch!” she cried, arching her back and kicking her feet out as the first stroke brought a burning pain to her bottom. I struck again quickly, this time centrally and impacting both her bottom cheeks.

“Ouch!” she cried again, her feet kicking and her loins bumping up and down on the arm of the chair. Her bottom had started to brighten nicely now, the third harsher stroke making her writhe uncontrollably as the fierce sensations assaulted her.

I smiled at Sarah and delivered another, and then yet another as her squirming stopped for a moment. It made her breath explode from her and redouble her frantic writhing.

“No, no!” she gasped, her hands darting to rub her burning bottom.

Sarah took a hold of the child’s wrists and drew her forward again, forcing her to present her bottom. I took up the offer and gave her firm little bottom two more sharp slaps of the paddle, strong enough to tenderise her flesh that little bit more and brighten the glow just under the surface.

She was such a delight, squirming on the arm of the chair, unable to dismount or protect herself as, time and time again; I took aim and delivered another sound spank to the child’s lovely little bottom.

She cried, she sobbed, and she squealed with each fresh spank, and Sarah held her and urged her to be brave, holding her as still as possible and watching avidly. My arm started to tire and Abigail’s bottom looked hot and brazen.

She whimpered as I stroked her glowing cheeks, and then buried her head in Sarah’s breasts as my fingers reached between her thighs to fondle her precious little cunt.

“There, there, hold still Abigail, so that your new master can check your cleanliness,” Sarah urged her, stroking the girl’s hair as she began to shake and pant.

“Now, now,” I crooned as, panting, she continued to try and evade my fingers.

Sarah held her more tightly, kissing and cuddling her, urging her to give in to me, as I massaged her clitoris, stroking it firmly until I felt a change come upon her. Her loins started to buck, but no longer to escape my touches. Her pelvis twisted, but in harmony with my fingers.

Her breath shortened, but it was no longer fear or loathing that made her whimper, not by the warm wetness that seeped from within, oiling my fingers and aiding them in their task.

“That’s a good girl,” I murmured, now able to lick her fresh juice and fill my mouth with the sharp flavour of her excitement.

Her breath quickened and shortened and she clutched at Sarah, holding her as she quivered, her thighs drawing further apart to aid me in my exploration of her young charms.

“Oh yes, well travelled,” I remarked, her wetness grown sufficient to slip a finger into her cunt, then gently pump her with it, emulating the pleasure she had yet to discover by all accounts.

“Come for us!” Sarah urged. “Let us see you!” she begged, leading the girl’s mouth to her rosy nipple as I stroked her delicate prepuce and wriggled my finger within her.

Sarah gasped with delight as her nipple was sucked, holding her head to her, staring past her to where Emily was still rubbing her bottom and masturbating to relieve the pain.

Abigail came with a jerk, keening whilst she frantically bumped her aroused pubis against the leather armrest, her cunt opening upon my fingertip to let loose her flow of warm ambrosia.

I cupped her taut bottom and drew the rear of her little split apart, watching as it pulsed and delighted in finding it elastic enough to accept my cock.

“You will soon be ready!” I murmured. “Until then,” and I slapped her bottom one more time as I released her. “You will go to bed and keep your caresses to yourself,” I announced.

They gathered their clothes and Emily and Abigail blushed brightly as they left. Rose curtsied on her way out, her eyes begging me to visit her later to dispel the swarm of bees irritating her bottom. However, Sarah remained and waited patiently for the door to close before she dropped to her knees and released my aching cock.

“Ah, that’s nice,” I breathed, as her hands captured me and fed the tip to her mouth. She sucked avidly, panting with excitement.

“Shall we ride?” she asked breathlessly, releasing me from her mouth for a moment and using her hand instead, pumping me vigorously while smearing her cheek with my pre-come.

She looked divine, on her knees and naked, her chest turning this way and that just enough to excite her nipples by grazing them upon my woollen trousers. Her eyes begged for pleasuring, while the glow in her cheeks told me she knew how naughty she was being.

“Where shall we ride?” I asked.

“Over fields and hedges,” she replied, wanting a hard ride, one to rock her body back and forth.

“The chair then, girl,” I told her.

She knelt as if she was to be educated with her knees placed firmly on each arm, with her back dipped and her bottom parted, offering up the most alluring sight of all, her cunt and anus pouting with their eagerness to be ravished.

“I am all yours, Father,” she whispered and hid her raging face.

Her beauty, and the ever-present spice of her being my own daughter, soon had me standing behind her. I fed my cock into her raging cunt and submerged myself within her, sighing delightedly as I felt her grip and tense. Then I was slipping out again, coated in her thick slime and hardened by her rippling caresses. I nudged her anus with my cock and licked my lips as she groaned and stretched, preparing herself.

She had done this before, I surmised. At some moment, when I fancied, I would discipline her for being so free with her favours, but until then I would slide my cock into her anus, whilst she gasped with the sensations I was causing her.

“There!” I announced. She groaned and panted, tightening herself around my cock, squeezing pleasantly while the heat of her rectum slowly but satisfyingly burnt into me.

“We rode the Indian girls this way,” I told her, beginning to move deeper. It pleased me to know that she now knew that she wasn’t the first.

Of course, unlike Sarah, the girls in India needed to be restrained with their wrists tied and the Sergeant Major’s Baton used to keep their knees apart.

I held Sarah’s haunches and admired her lovely bottom whilst watching my cock appear from her gripping anal flange, and then slide smoothly back in to where her colon lovingly squeezed me.

“Is my bottom nice and tight?” she panted.

“Yes!” I replied.

Her bottom was full and round, not bony like those of the lean young Indian girls. She was clean too, and there was no worry at sliding fully into her, marinating my cock deep within her before beginning to slide back and forth once more.

“Yes, yes!” she panted, hanging her head and offering up her bottom to me.

My pace quickened and the length of my slide increased as my loins slapped against her bottom as I drove inwards, slowly and teasingly drawing outwards, enjoying the feel of her rippling about me as she tried to have me rapidly thrust back into her. She soon had her way, her bottom just too nice to refuse.

Gripping her tightly, I drove myself into her depths, then drew out until the urge to drive in again became too strong to resist.

“Father!” she keened, her hands blindly seeking something to grip as she neared the end of her journey.

I rode her with much greater urgency, her body rocking to my thrusts, her breasts swaying delectably beneath her, where her nipples were torrid and dark.

She keened again, spending quickly, and the tightening of her colon brought me to my own end. I thrust deep within her colon to irrigate her with my seed, jerking with the powerful jets and gripping her welted bottom as my knees weakened.

Her colon milked me, the tightening of her anal ring around the base of my cock keeping me from falling away.

******

That evening there were still some responsibilities that I needed to attend to. Wish as I might for the comfort of my bed, the education of Rose and Abigail needed to be completed, and I couldn’t shirk my responsibility by ignoring it.

I cleaned myself with care, and then opened the door under the stairs to descend the narrow steps into the basement. Rose had moved into the largest of the servant quarters, one large enough to accommodate a second bed for Abigail so that she could keep an eye on the child.

As I stepped in, a lamp in my hand, Rose sat up and blinked. Abigail, her bed in the far corner turned and rose onto her elbows, squinting at the sudden light.

“Sir?” Rose murmured.

“Abigail needs to be taught how to pray,” I told her, going to her own lamp and lighting it from mine.

The room was now bright with two lamps and Abigail was rubbing the sleep from her eyes and looking at us both questioningly. She wore one of Rose’s nightgowns I noticed, with the shoulders so broad that it seemed ready to slide off of her at a moments notice.

“Come here, the both of you,” I told them, placing myself on the back edge of the one good rug in the room. That way they wouldn’t feel the cold through their knees so badly.

“It’s all right,” Rose told Abigail. “It doesn’t hurt,” she said as she smiled comfortingly.

“Why don’t you show her what is expected of her, Rose” I suggested.

I smiled at Abigail, liking the look of her young and slender body only half hidden under the large nightgown and leaving one little nipple on display, the little disk it sat upon looking like burnished copper in the lamplight.

The child’s eyes gleamed in the flickering light as she watched Rose attend to my trousers, her expert fingers quickly freeing each button in turn, until her hand could slide in, find my cock, and then draw it out. Abigail stared at it, and although it couldn’t have been the first she had seen one, I thought I saw a look of awe in her little face before she licked her lips and glanced up nervously.

“See? It’s easy as pie!” Rose giggled, wrapping her hands around the shaft as if she was about to pray. She smiled at the girl and then brought her attention back to me, pulling it down with her hands so she could cover the tip with her lips, then begin to pray.

“That’s my girl,” I murmured, the electrifying sensation of having her lips moving gently on the head of my cock making it lurch and throb between her palms. “Good girl,” I murmured.

“Want to give it a go?” Rose asked of Abigail, the removal of her lips making me groan with want.

Abigail licked her lips, and her expression spoke of her nervousness as she reluctantly shuffled forward. Hesitantly, her hands rose to either side of my cock, and then closed upon me. I groaned, delighted with the feel of her hot little palms pressing so naively inwards, on my shaft.

“You may pump it too,” I told her. “Like this,” I added, my breath quickening as I steered her praying hands back and forth on my shaft.

“Don’t forget to cover the tip of the shaft with your mouth,” Rose urged. “Don’t worry if it leaks, just lick it off!” she giggled.

I sobbed delightedly and quivered with pleasure as Abigail brought her delicate little mouth to my cock, and there gently prayed, her eyes turned worshipfully up at me as she mouthed her prayer.

“Oh, that’s so good,” I told her, my pleasure increasing with every passing moment.

She stopped for a moment, but it was only to lick her lips, improve her grip around the shaft and shuffle closer to me before placing her lips around my engorged head.

Now I found myself able to look past her face, past the little mouth that teased me so adorably, to slide under her nightgown, passing the gentle swell of her budding breasts to see the curve of her belly as it sank towards her pelvis, lost in the darkness under her gown.

Visions of her standing naked in front of me returned. I recalled the curve of her vulva and her round-edged slit, her long hood peeking out from between her fledging lips, her thighs quivering with the ordeal she faced.

The images meshed with the present, the feel of her mouth and hands, her gentle tugging and her eyes turned up to watch me. Together, they conspired to breech the wall of my control and have me cry out with the intensity of my ejaculation.

The little darling took her mouth away, her worried look indicating she thought she had done something wrong. But Rose stopped her from pulling back too far, and my seed sprayed her young face, splattering across her mouth, her chin, her nose and cheeks. Startled, yet more flew into her open mouth, to be swallowed before she knew what was happening.

Rose grinned and chuckled, and with Abigail watching her, she reached for my cock to squeeze the last of my seed before leaning forward to capture the drop upon her tongue. She savoured it in her mouth, then swallowed, giving the child a perfect example of what she would be expected to do the next time she prayed.

“Good girls, I told them. I’ll not consider it a sin if you wish to pleasure yourselves tonight,” I told them graciously.

“Thank you, Sir,” Rose whispered.

Another time I may have stayed to watch, enjoying those times when I would force her to conduct her pleasures in front of me, particularly liking the deep glow such acts brought to her face as, her thighs wantonly spread, she worked her fingers with timid precision upon her ripe young cunt. With a last comment to Abigail that she wasn’t to waste any of my precious seed, I departed and sought my bed.

******

The new uniform transformed Abigail who looked a different person as she stepped forward to help Rose serve dinner the next evening. Her new companion particularly held Emily’s attention, her eyes sliding over her lean figure, all the way down to the little black shoes she wore and Sarah smiled with amusement.

“Have you considered using Abigail to help educate Emily?” she asked eloquently.

I looked towards Emily who had become suddenly attentive on hearing her name mentioned.

“You think her ready?” I asked. “She is much younger than you were,” I recollected.

Sarah’s breasts had been little apples with bright cherries for their tips, and she had been so slender and firm skinned. I loved sitting her astride, and facing me, so I could watch her expression as she worked to accommodate me in her tight little cunt.

“I had no one to show me,” she blushed.

Emily was looking at me; a half-look with her cheeks burning that hinted that she knew what we were about.

In India, boys would laugh and giggle as they played whilst girls would smile and look meaningfully towards you.

The girls were there to be picked, and you would sit on the veranda watching them at play, a boy waving a fan nearby to keep you cool in the heat and then your choice made, the girl would go meekly to your bedroom above the courtyard.

The boys all had nicknames for each of the soldiers of the British regiment, based on what they heard from the windows.

There was Corporal ‘Grunter’ Mathews and Sergeant ‘Bouncer’ Calder.

Mine was ‘Lengthy’, not for the size of my cock, but for the length of time I took to ravish a young girl, pinned beneath me or bouncing energetically above.

Now Emily had that same coy look about her, of girlhood fancies and dreams of womanhood, her sugared imagination failing to capture the force with which she would be taken, the stretching of her privates and the tearing of her virginity.

Would she scream afterwards, when she saw the blood that coated her inner thighs and the tidal mark around the base of my cock?

Yes, I thought. Let her see Abigail being ravished first, then she would see the physical energy, without all the blood that so often caused confusion and dismay.

“It would be pleasant, to watch such a spectacle,” Sarah mused.

My daughter was becoming quiet a libertine. I would have to punish her for that, I thought, excitement beginning to lift my cock as I thought about it.

A slow spanking to make her squirm and pant, a leisurely spanking with pauses to feel the pulpiness of her cunt, a stinging spanking, to drive her towards fingering herself, doing it where we could all watch, and where the girls could learn and perhaps try them out for themselves.

Emily would be tight, I surmised, but would not struggle. Some girls flay their limbs as they are taken for the first time, but I didn’t see Emily as being the type. Some beat their fists upon your chest, or kicked your bottom with their heels, but I didn’t see little Emily succumbing to either of those moves.

I saw her as the type to clench my arm and beg for leniency with her eyes. I saw her succumbing with an arch of her back and a bite upon her lower lip, stoutly refusing to scream, even when she thought I was going to split her apart.

I checked my hunter and found that there were still five minutes to go before the hour.

Rose and Abigail collected our plates and as they left the room, I told Rose to give cook my compliments. Emily swung her feet on the chair and licked her lips.

“I’ve been good today, haven’t I mama?” Emily asked.

“Do you think so? You better be sure, because your Grandfather always doubles the number of strokes for those who forget,” Sarah told her.

“That’s not fair! What if I really can’t remember being naughty?”

“Well, then it’s best to say, ‘I’ve been naughty today, Grandfather,’ and he will award you what he thinks is suitable,” Sarah explained.

I chuckled inside as I saw little Emily consider her mother’s words, weighing up the chance of getting away without a punishment, against getting twice the award.

Out in the hall, I heard Rose and Abigail quietly making their way to the library, and drew my chair back to announce that dinner was over.

“Come along,” I offered to Emily, holding the door open for her.

“Don’t be too gentle with her, Father. She needs to learn,” Sarah advised in a whisper as she passed me on her way out.

I nodded. So it was with all young girls. Poised and elegant as they may wish to be perceived in public, they must learn to cast aside their elegance and delicacy behind closed doors, and open themselves up to their animal instincts.

The maids curtsied as we entered, Emily leading the way. They looked neat and elegant in their grey uniforms and white starched aprons and caps. Rose had done something to Abigail’s hair to make it look less shorn, and it suited her elfin features.

“Sarah! You will be first,” I advised, as I drew out the little key from my breast pocket and opened the cabinet.

The implements waited, leather items to the left, wooden items in the middle and the various canes to the right, the harsher items above those of softer nature. They all gleamed, every one, from the ones I rarely used, to those that were the principle implements of my cruel education. Sarah took a deep breath and licked her lips.

“I’ve been very naughty today, Father,” she told me.

I expected nothing less from Sarah, than to except her punishment and to show Emily how to be brave. I selected a riding crop and slid the braided leather through my fingers until I reached the broad tongue of subtle leather at its tip, and checked to see that it remained soft and pliant.

“Prepare!” I ordered.

The others watched, just as I did, as Sarah elegantly shed her dress, then the corset that pinched her waist and presented her nipples to us, and finally the drawers she wore.

“Lie down on your back along the arm of the chair, your head on the cushion and with your thighs raised,” I told her.

She shook and licked her lips.

“Yes, Father,” she murmured.

Turning she walked slowly to the waiting chair, her bottom cheeks rotating delightfully against each other. She crept to the side and, then leaning back along the thick arm, letting herself fall backwards into the seat and presenting her bottom, the backs of her thighs and her lovely cunt to us.

She knew that she was on full display, but still wrapped her arms around the backs of her knees and waited for me to begin.

With the careful placement of the crop, I made sure the last few inches of the stem would land with force upon her nearest bottom cheek, allowing the tongue to slap into the parted cleft, striking the tender flesh within and rapidly changing the pale skin to a glowing pink.

The girls watched, spellbound, as I applied the crop faithfully to my task, each stroke making Sarah gasp and jerk, the cumulative effect making her pant from the burning sensations. Three strokes, with the last one darting the tongue in to strike her anus, and I stopped to admire my work.

Ah, but she had such a lovely bottom, so full and round and yet so firm. Normally smooth, her flesh now had three welts lining the otherwise unblemished bottom cheeks and within her deep and short anal groove, the leather tongue had kissed her three times, and two pink marks were there, the third brightening her dark anus.

I walked around to her other side and tapped the yet unmarked bottom cheek, measuring the crop in an effort to create a continuous line across both cheeks.

Pattern making with the riding crop or cane was learnt in India, in the hot afternoons when such activities were a pleasant pastime to the heat of the day. The position and force of the arm were equally important to create a good pattern, and there was nothing nicer than to ravish a young girl from behind, her bottom a loving sculpture of patterned welts.

Sarah panted, crying out and jerking as the crop landed for a forth time. A new welt appeared, matching that on her far cheek, but the slap of the tongue within her anal groove landed directly upon the previous mark, and her smarting flesh now blazed uncontrollably.

She bit her lips as she prepared for the next stroke tightening her arms around her knees and whimpering. I tapped lightly, concentrating on doing it perfectly, and used my wrist to whip the crop down hard. A sharp cry and she stiffened as the pain imploded into her, the welt rapidly forming, confirming my aim had been true.

“One more,” I told her.

The girls in India were invariably tied down. Occasionally, if the session was a mild one, we could rely upon them to remain in place, but generally we had to restrain them and use a rag to stifle their screams. It was such a relief to able to educate stoic English stock, well-bred young women who knew their duty and who remained in place.

Sarah tensed for the last stroke, trembling with the knowledge that it would strike her tender anus again. The tip of the crop caressed her first; stroking the welts I had already created before tapping the virgin skin yet to become a burning welt.

Her breath quickened and her eyes begged me for leniency but knew there would be none. Another flick of the wrist and the riding crop landed with a sharp sound. Sarah keened, her head thrown back as she swam in the burning of her anal knot and the rising of her last welt.

The girls watched, wide eyed and licking their lips, as she absorbed the pain, and then reached between her thighs to masturbate, biting her lower lip as she brought herself pleasure from the pain rising in her bottom. Her fingers now moved with practiced ease, massaging her clitoris whilst new sensations took her breath.

“Go on,” I urged.

I reached out with the crop to let the tip flutter above her anus, teasing that which I had already made tender until she convulsed, arching and rocking, her thighs clamping around her fingers as her orgasm bloomed. Then I turned my attention towards the others, and watched with delight their reactions to the wanton performance my daughter had just given.

“Rose!” I called.

She curtsied and stepped forward to remove her clothes, shedding them with unseemly haste to stand naked with pride and with a flush to her skin that spoke of excitement rather than fear.

“You’ve been naughty then?” I surmised, teasing her with my smile.

She blushed and stammered in confusion before nodding her head. Her eyes woefully watched me caress my educational instruments, paling when I stroked the canes, colouring when I caressed the whips, and biting her lip and trembling when I finally chose the ruler for her education.

I called it a ruler, as it was a standard one-foot long, but in fact it had no measure upon it. Just over an inch broad and an eighth of an inch thick, it followed the same dimension as a school ruler, but there the similarity ended. The wood was Lime, with a fine grain and good flexibility. Not too flexible though, but enough to give a good burning sensation on its landing, and create a nice and vivid welt.

“Over the table,” I murmured, seeing her hesitate.

I watched as Emily and Abigail licked their lips, their eyes settling on Rose’s lovely bottom as she got into position, parting her thighs and dipping her back, thrusting her bottom out and completely parting the cheeks to leave her lovely charms exposed.

I slid the ruler across her bottom, letting the girls watch it slide up and down. Then I was delivering her first spank, letting Rose gasp and shake as it seared her bottom and watching the girls jump at the loud slap it caused.

“One,” I murmured, stroking her bottom and caressing the lovely broad welt I had just created.

“Thank you, Sir,” Rose panted, dipping her back and letting her anus pout, just below my stroking fingers.

I delivered the next; aiming for the same welt and smiling as Rose shook and squirmed, her breath lost now as she tried desperately to absorb the stinging pain.

“You’re loving it, aren’t you, Rose?” I teased.

The lips of her young cunt were hot and forgiving, easily sliding against each other as I pulled and pushed with my fingers. I stopped before she gained too much pleasure and delivered the third, aiming to overlap the previous two to create two tones, one blazing whilst the other merely glowed.

“Sir!” Rose gasped, swivelling her bottom from side to side, a most adorable sight and one the girls stared at with glowing faces. They couldn’t help but see the swollen nub of her clitoris hood, and the brightness between her thighs as she tossed to and fro.

I reached out to stop her movements, and let my fingers slowly peel her apart, taking her breath away whilst exposing her more fully to the girls.

“See how wet she is?” I asked.

Rose hung her head, her embarrassment mixed with sexual excitement, extended by the heat of her spanking.

I straightened to deliver another, bringing a gasp from her as fresh heat enveloped her bottom. Then whilst she was squirming, I delivered another, my aim carefree but strong and hard. Rose squealed, rising up onto her toes, wriggling and squirming without control, her bottom glowing brightly with various shades of burning pink.

Her breath was hot and fast and, without permission, her hand came back between her thighs to press upon her pubis, massaging it with rough intent.

“That will earn you another!” I announced, and delivered it, swinging my arm down to hear the wood splat loudly upon her bottom.

Rose squealed and her bottom tossed still more fervently. Her fingers rubbed still more frantically, back and forth and circular, until her breath caught and a keen came from deep in her throat.

I looked over towards the wide-eyed girls and took pleasure in their expressions as they watched Rose peak upon her own hand, her little cunt spilling dew upon her fingers as she continued to gently rub her pleasure spot.

“Get up!” I told Rose, for my pleasures were still to come and I was eager to move on.

“Emily?” I announced. The sweet child licked her lips and nervously swallowed.

“I’ve been naughty, Grandfather,” she confessed.

“Prepare!” I urged.

She had the prettiest of blushes and glanced fleetingly towards her mother before commencing to undress.

No one offered to help her, as we all took some pleasure in watching her struggle to undo the finicky hooks and eyes down the back of her bodice. Slowly though, her bodice sagged from her chest and the early development of her breasts exposed, her nipples still pink atop the gentle outward curve of her budding breasts.

A moment longer and the skirt were undone, falling away to allow her to step from the pool of material and stand gloriously naked. Despite having seen her naked before, seeing her again reminded me of all the trifling little bits I had forgotten that made her so adorable, like the plumpness and the infinite smoothness of her lovely little cunt.

There was the tone of her skin and the feint veins that ran under the translucent skin. There was the line to her abdomen that would all but disappear with maturity, and those darling little breasts, so small and delicate, so divine to look at.

“Have you washed yourself properly?” I asked, waving her forward.

I knelt and waited, patiently, for her to shuffle over, her face very bright now, her bottom lip caught timidly between her pearly teeth.

“Yes, Grandfather,” Emily, replied.

“Thighs apart!” I ordered.

My hands guided her, parting her thighs sufficiently for me to cup her cunt. A gentle massage of the firm lips and she was gasping and rising onto her toes, her hands darting to hold onto to my shoulders for support.

“Relax!” I urged, glancing past her for a moment, just long enough to see Sarah’s expression and her flushed face.

The child tried, jerking and panting with each new caress of my hand. Then I had turned my hand to bring the edge of my finger against her cunt. Excited as she was, her cunt parted easily, and the edge of my hand smeared itself with the thick juices decorating the depths of her short and little slit.

“Turn around!” I urged the breathless girl, smiling as I watched her own hand go to where mine had been tracing the soft skin I had so knowingly pleasured.

She shuffled around, wide-eyed and so full and trusting, her thighs kept well apart.

“Bend over!” I ordered.

I was a little breathless myself; watching her bottom tighten as she bent, then part as the cheeks grew taut.

I inhaled the scent that now decorated the edge of my hand, and then placed it deep between her little bottom cheeks. I held her as she quivered, enjoying her little gasp as she felt my finger slide across her crinkled little anus, partly smearing her with her own vagina’s excretions, partly gathering what may lie upon her anus.

“Stand, and look at me,” I ordered.

Her face was still bright as she did as I asked, and it gained colour as she beheld me licking my finger and inhaling her scent. Offering her the same finger, I watched her cautiously smell it, her colour burning her cheeks, and then fed her my fingertip, nodding my accord as I felt her tongue nimbly lick her own sweet flavour.

“You have done well, so I will ignore your naughtiness!” I told her, letting her think that her willingness to play games would defer her punishment and making the child just that little bit more pliable.

For now, Abigail waited, curtsying when she saw my eyes slide to her form, so slender and small.

“What about you, girl?” I asked Abigail firmly as Sarah took a hold of Emily and steered her off to one side, ready to bring her forward for a closer view when the proceedings, had begun.

We watched as Abigail licked her lips, quite obviously overcome with emotion as she struggled to find the breath to speak.

“I’ve been naughty, Sir,” she finally responded in a weak and almost whispered voice.

“Prepare!” I ordered.

I remained in a kneeling position the better to watch as she slipped out of her large and easily undone uniform. With fleeting glances at us all, she undid the buttons, her cheeks growing ever brighter, the more of her pale little body she uncovered to us.

At last, she stood naked, a picture of girlhood that was in no way blemished by the hot look she cast towards the growing bulge in my tweed trousers.

“Have you washed yourself properly?” I asked, waving her forward.

“Yes, Sir,” Abigail replied.

“I will examine you first, Abigail,” I told her, opening my arms to draw her to me.

“Thighs apart!” I ordered, listening to her agitated breathing as she opened her thighs for my inspection.

“There now,” I soothed, my hand running up her inner thigh until it reached her crotch. I stroked her vulva, gently pulling on the firm flesh to watch her expression and gauge her reaction.

Sarah spoke softly to her daughter, no doubt urging her to watch as my finger edged between the folds of Abigail’s vulva, easing them apart to smile as I found her swimming in her own wetness, hot and slippery, flowing so easily from her quivering little cunt.

“What’s this?” I teased, circling the swollen head of her clitoris to make her pant and shake from the sensations it brought. “And this?” I teased, my finger slipping into her vagina, the walls clinging to me even as she bathed me in her wetness.

“Sir!” she gasped, holding tightly onto my shoulders as her pelvis thrust uncontrollably with her wanton excitement.

Cupping her lovely little bottom I pushed my finger deeper, embedding it to feel her clench about it, then open with true submissiveness.

“You’re had more than a finger up here, haven’t you?” I whispered, watching her writhe.

“Only when I’ve had to, Sir. I never asked for it, never,” she told me, panting for breath.

“Well, you’re going to ask for it now, girl. You’re going to kneel upon two chairs and bend over the table, and you’re going to touch yourself while begging me to ride you,” I explained.

As soon as I had spoken, Rose and Sarah jumped forward to gather the two chairs and place them facing each other by the side of the table.

They waited there, an excuse to bring them close to where we would be, and Emily slowly joined her mother, watching us with wide-eyed innocence.

They helped Abigail climb up onto the chairs, each separated enough to draw her thighs well apart as much as allow me to stand between them. A moment later, they were helping the glowing and panting girl to lean forward, urging her with soft words and stroking hands to thrust her bottom out, to ignore the naughtiness of it all, ignore them watching, and to play the wanton harlot.

I watched as her bottom parted to expose her tiny anus, so pink and innocent. Below it, raw and gleaming, skin so endearingly smooth, was the mouth of her cunt. It lay defenceless at the back of her rounded and parted vulva, opened by previous use and now ready to act as an example for Emily.

I glanced towards Emily as I prepared myself, and my lungs inflated with pride as I saw how she stared wide-eyed at my cock as it stood to attention, the wiry hair cropped back in the Indian Army style.

“Emily! Come and prepare me,” I ordered, thrusting my rampant cock out towards her startled expression.

Her mother spoke to her, hushed words that made her flutter her eyes and blush that much brighter.

Then she was there, kneeling timidly in front of me and, gazing up at me endearingly, holding my cock still while her tongue lavished her saliva upon my uncovered head.

I guided her little fingers to pull my foreskin fully back, and she savoured my flavour between licks, her blushes brightening as her mother softly praised her, telling her what a good girl she had been and, soon, that she would be thanked in a very special way.

Abigail waited, Rose and Sarah holding her in position with masked caresses of her back and arms. She panted and whimpered, her eyes unfocused as she waited for that stretching feeling, then the filling for which there was no comparison.

Stepping up behind the girl, I placed my hands upon her bottom, which served to allow my thumbs to draw her cunt further apart, opening her like a doctor to gaze into her body, all pinks and reds, gleaming flesh that quivered and clenched in anticipation.

My cock slid along her anal groove, a comfortable cushion for it to throb upon, until drawn back to allow it to sink into place, the head dropping into the hollow of her vaginal mouth.

It looked huge in comparison to her dainty cunt. It was a comparison I adored, but could rarely execute now. The vision took me back to my army days, when such as this had been the daily routine, when there had always been girls to ravish, in their cunts, in their anuses and in their mouths. None of them had ever been as gloriously pale as this child though.

I eased in, in a wealth of delight as she sobbed, and as her young cunt stretched around me, wrapping itself tightly to me, I pressed inwards, into all invading heat.

“Watch!” Sarah instructed Emily, and the girl licked her lips of my remaining flavour while watching me sink deep into the panting child on the table.

“Is it big and hard?” Rose teased.

Panting and breathing hard, Abigail licked her lips and nodded.

I was inside, encased in her tight young cunt and I basked in the sensations pouring through my cock and I gloried in the admiration that Sarah, Rose and Emily gave me, as they watched open mouthed.

Emily’s avid attention encouraged me to give her a good show, and I began by easing slowly from Abigail’s tight little cunt, drawing her clinging flesh outward along with me to delight in feeling it slowly give up its hold on me. Then all but my crown reappeared, throbbing thickly from her purse and gleaming with lubrication.

My attention alternated between Abigail, keening as my cock powered into her, and Emily who watched and trembled beside me. Her mother knelt at her side and murmured hot words in her ear, and I parted Abigail’s bottom cheeks to give Emily a better view of where her cunt fitted around me, a perfect seal on our passions.

“Look Emily, how excited Abigail has become!” Sarah murmured.

I looked too, at Abigail’s little face, to see the heat glowing from her features while she panted hotly and fluttered her eyelids, her eyes rolled up beneath them as I surged back into her.

Her hot tight cunt squeezed me, willing me to inundate her with my seed and her heat invaded me, swelling me to a thickness I couldn’t remember since Sarah had been a child.

The spectacle of my invasion of little Abigail had stirred my blood as much as having Emily watch from so close. With a fresh grip of Abigail’s waist, I drew myself back and forth within her cunt, my labours getting easier as she succumbed to my girth.

Soon, I was able to thrust myself into her to hear her gasp and feel the roof of her vagina tighten around my cock. Fresh, thick wetness coated me as I slipped practically out, to then thrust back within, her passage rippling around me as she cried out with my fresh surge.

Growing breathless with pleasure, I continued to ride the young girl, closing my ears to the wails she gave as her own pleasure swept over her.

To listen was to loose control and to shoot my seed too early. “Wait until you see the whites of their eyes,” the Sergeant Major said as; he ravished some poor Indian girl, thrusting back and forth like she was some sort of rag-doll, barking loudly as he finally came.

“Your Grandfather is going to spend now Emily,” Sarah murmured, her fingers busy masturbating her daughter.

Emily was panting with the sensations caused by her mother’s fingers, as much as by watching my stout cock sliding so smoothly in and out of a girl no older than herself. She looked up at me and I at her, and I could see her understanding of what I expected of her in her expression.

“Yes!” I cried. I pulled out from the girl to slide myself along her anal groove, rearing up at the end to send a long trail of seed into the air before splattering her back.

Eyes closed, I exhausted in my release and drove my cock back upwards for a second spurt, and a third, before allowing the last drops to dribble over her lovely bottom.

Rose was there in a moment, squeezing my balls and engulfing my cock head. Recovering my breath and opening my eyes, I watched Sarah place some of my sticky seed onto her finger and offer it to Emily, smiling as the girl dutifully licked it clean.

I returned Sarah’s smile.

“Tomorrow,” I mouthed, so Emily wouldn’t hear. The girl was too fixed on my shrinking cock to notice anything else, anyway.

******

The following day turned out to be sunny and warm, our first for the year. On enquiring where Miss Sarah was, Rose curtsied and informed me that she and Emily had gone for a walk in Regent’s Park. No doubt to show off their new clothes, I thought, savouring my breakfast.

“How is Abigail this morning?” I asked, noting that she was wiping down the tiles in the entrance hall. She looked pretty, kneeling as she did, her bottom quite often up in the air, her skirts draping it finely.

“Fine, Sir,” Rose said.

I nodded. Of course she would be, a little tart like her. I felt sure that she was used to being ravished much more roughly.

“Bring her to me. And you can help me check,” I told her, in the mood for a little game.

Rose hurriedly curtsied, and then, with a pretty blush, hurried off to fetch Abigail. They returned just a moment later, Abigail looking at me nervously, obviously unaware of what I intended.

“Rose tells me that you have recovered from last night’s ordeal,” I said, finishing my breakfast with a piece of bread to wipe up the last of the running egg.

“Yes Sir, thank you, Sir,” Abigail answered, curtsying with a little less finesse than the more practised Rose.

“Well, as I am responsible for you, I think I should check,” I told her. Rose hurriedly took my plate and placed it on the sideboard in order to return to my side and help lift the child onto the table.

“Now then,” I murmured, ruffling up her uniform and moving myself to stand between her thighs. Rose came to help, her knowing hands more capably uncovering Abigail’s thighs and, finally, the little cunt nestling so cutely at the apex of her thighs.

“Mm, looks a little tender to me,” I remarked, my fingers beginning to stroke the smooth labia. “What do you think?” I asked Rose.

Abigail licked her lips and leant back as Rose leant forward for a better look at her precious little cunt. I lifted Abigail’s legs and placed her feet on the arms of my chair. With the girl then perfectly placed, a finger and thumb gently broke the meeting of her labia to expose the rich pink, gleaming flesh within her slit.

“My, my,” I murmured, pretending surprise.

Abigail supported herself on her hands as my examination began to capture her breath. Rose kept the girl’s uniform from obscuring my view, and I used both hands to draw her flushed cunt lips apart, and fully explore the gleaming soft flesh within, from the long shaft of her clitoris, to the darling little hole of her vagina.

My index finger was quickly lubricated in her trough, and then I was watching her expression and smiling at her look of rhapsody as I slid it into her body.

“What a little tart!” I chuckled. She blushed, but she couldn’t stop panting, nor stop her cunt from rippling about my finger as I pressed it fully within her, then slowly began pumping it back and forth.

“She lubricates well,” I observed. There had been Indian girls who had needed a lot of spit before our cocks would slide back and forth in their hot little cunts. Abigail panted and stared at the finger slipping in and out of her.

“Come for us!”” I urged, finger and thumb of my other hand drawing the protective skin from her clitoris.

Slowly, effortlessly, I worked my finger back and forth, changing the angle on occasion. While doing so, my thumb pulled her prepuce back from the gleaming tip of her clitoris, and then let it slide back again. The friction teased her and her thighs spread apart wantonly.

Whimpering, she drew her bottom towards me, offering herself to me in a gratuitous display of wanton lust.

“Come along, girl,” I urged.

A second digit slid beyond the first, sliding along her half clothed little bottom to bring new sensations flooding her groin.

She jerked and her thighs tried snapping closed upon the fingers I was still using upon her. She shook with delight and, head thrown back, cried with her enjoyment. Pressing my finger home, I felt the hot wash of her pleasure and nodded.

She would do well in our household, I thought.

******

The Times newspaper received my full attention for most of the day. In the afternoon, I completed some correspondence and worked on the household expenses for a while, a task I never relished, but one that took my mind from the forthcoming events, if only for an hour or so.

It was late afternoon when Sarah and Emily returned, but they quickly went upstairs, leaving me to concentrate on my work. It was not until Rose came in to light the lamps that I realised the day had flown by.

Feeling a little peckish, I ventured downstairs to the kitchen where Cook was already busy at work. The lady suffered my presence with the same stoic silence as she suffered my theft of cheeses, biscuits and the odd piece of meat.

There was to be beef broth that evening she told me, followed by a loin of pork and a lemon meringue for dessert. Her preparations once again served to take my mind from the other entertainment for the evening, and she even allowed me to assist her for a while, rubbing the garlic into the pork before she prepared it for the oven, and creating the pressed biscuit base for the meringue.

I retired again to the parlour where a small fire had been lit to keep the still cool evening at bay. There, I lightly dozed, the paper on my lap, until the bell sounded for supper. The ladies preceded me into the dinning room where Rose and Abigail waited upon us, each curtsying prettily on our arrival.

The food was excellent, and Emily told me of her trip to the park and the people they had met, how the soldiers had ridden by, their backs straight, their polished boots gleaming in the early June sun. They had taken a carriage back and Emily had waved at those they passed, much to the amusement of her mother.

Rose and Abigail worked well with each other although the girl was prone to receive a hot blush whenever she came near to me. She still needed to learn about propriety, but I was a good teacher and had no doubt she would learn speedily enough. Rose watched her well enough for the two of us, and I was sure she would bring anything that she couldn’t handle to my attention if warranted.

Emily, meanwhile, continued to chatter about the day, what they had seen and done, who they had met and how so many had complemented them on their lovely dresses. I watched her as I ate, and Sarah watched me and smiled, no doubt knowing just what I had in mind for poor little Emily later on that evening.

Supper was coming to an end and Emily’s cheeks glowed as her mother suggested they go through to the library. Emily looked towards me, suddenly breathless, a hint deep in her eyes that she may have guessed what we were about.

“I shall follow shortly,” I told them, sipping my coffee.

The wait would excite my cock. The clock in the entrance hall began to chime the hour and I rose and cleared my throat. I could see the ladies waiting as I left the dinning room, all lined up and licking their lips, blushes of various hues providing decoration to their faces.

“Abigail!” I called.

The child stepped forward and hesitantly gave me a list of failings that wouldn’t normally have got my attention but would bring a warm glow to her bottom and a tingle to her cunt.

I chose a strap with three thin prongs, to which she stared whilst undressing, her breath hot and laboured as she imagined just how painful it might feel.

I took her over to the armrest and bent her over. Her thighs inched apart and her head turned to look at me, begging for my approval as she dipped her back and offered her lovely bottom.

“Good girl,” I nodded.

With the strap in my left hand I tested her cleanliness, finding her already hot and humid, and wet enough to slide my finger over her anus and breech the ring.

She took it well, tensing only slightly whilst panting loudly, and quivering with the thought of being taken back there. I inhaled the scent on my finger, and then tasted her tart sweetness before taking a firm hold of the strap.

“Further over!” I demanded, the parting of her thighs drawing her bottom up higher. The others watched licking their lips, and Sarah held her daughter protectively in her arms.

They all shared a similar expression, wanting to see Abigail receive her just deserts, interspersed with the worry about what implement I would chose for them, and whether they too would suffer the probing of my fingers and hear my chuckle as I uncovered their hot slippery wetness.

The strap tapped Abigail’s bottom, startling the girl and bringing a breathless gasp. It then rose, to deliver the first of several light slaps, each one making her jump and gasp, then pant in an effort to regain her breath.

Each stroke coloured her bottom with the lines of the slender prongs and the harsher cuts, every third or forth stroke, swelled her lovely little bottom.

I soon had her wriggling and mewing; panting like a dog on heat while her face was as flushed as her bottom, but more uniformly. The jerks and tossing of her bottom helped expose her to us, giving us flashes of the bright and sumptuous pink lying within her vulva.

Between her widely parted bottom, her anus winked, teasing me with thoughts of all the objects I could press into her, educating her into stretching that little hole ready for my satisfaction.

Another two much harsher strokes brought her onto her toes, gasping and wide eyed as the tingling pain swelled and soared into her. Then my fingers were there, watched by the others as I unfolded her, and then skewered her cunt.

Ah, but what a lovely cry she gave as I brought her on, that long shaft of her clitoris burning brightly, and swollen to twice its normal size.

I looked at the others, gauging their expressions as I decided who would be next. Anticipation, dread, excitement, it was all there in their faces as their cheeks glowed and their chests rose and fell with breathless anticipation.

“Rose!” I called.

The girl stepped forward and hastily curtsied before listing her own sins. I teased her, refusing to move my hand to the whip, staying on the straps and the paddles while her sins mounted and mounted as she strived to have my hand move to the tool of her choice. I then moved my hand, passing the whip to listen to her voice suddenly stop as I rested my fingers on the rattan cane.

“Anything else?” I teased.

She shook her head, her eyes full of fear as she watched me take down a cane and make it whistle through the air.

“Prepare!” I ordered.

She curtsied and fumbled with her clothes, hurrying in her attempt to please me while her eyes still glanced morbidly towards the cane.

“Please, Sir, not too hard, Sir. I’ll be good, I’ll be very good, Sir,” she whimpered, dragging herself towards the waiting table.

I sliced the air again and feign nonchalance, waiting for her and ignoring her mewing.

“Come along!” I said, eager to cane her. She went to lean forward, bending over the table, but I stopped her. “Just lean forward a little,” I explained, guiding her until her hands were flat on the table and her arms straight, with her thighs positioned so that her cunt was over the table’s edge.

I tapped her lovely bottom and watched it tense with anticipation. It was something I would not have seen had she been fully bent. I tapped and tapped, admiring the way her bottom changed shape as she tensed, then relaxed, and then tensed again. I teased, and pounced, the cane kissing her bottom with the flick of my wrist.

Rose’s eyes widened and her mouth opened in startled surprise. She gasped breathlessly, surging forward to press herself more fiercely into the edge of the table. The wood disfigured the apex of her cunt as she pressed against it, and then, as the sensations started to rise in her crotch, she ground her pelvis against the table with a much greater purpose.

“Enough. Push your bottom out!” I ordered.

She stopped her masturbation to whimper as she obeyed, panting loudly as she shook with the effort it took her to obey and thrust out her bottom. She jerked with the tap of the cane, her breath breaking as I startled her and then swiftly startled her again, giving her a second swift cut, just above the first.

Rose jerked forward, keening with the sensations caused by having her bottom caned. Then, for a second time, she placed her cunt on the tables’ edge and this time, aware of it, had no hesitation in madly rubbing herself against it.

The others watched, blushing hotly with their understanding as Rose tried her best to quell the raging fire in her bottom, with the sharp sensations that she created by squashing the base of her prepuce up against the table’s edge.

I let her continue for a few moments, watching the uncontrollable urge to reduce the burning in her bottom become more calculated as the pleasure surged and overcame her agony.

Then, stopping her, I had her push her bottom out again.

Rose bit her lip and whimpered as she offered up her bottom for the cane. Two lines ran across the milky paleness of her bottom flesh, thin and parallel, swelling the skin in a perfect welt.

I ran my fingers along it, adoring the sensation and the quickening of her breath that it brought. The marks failed to go inside her anal groove, but that didn’t stop my finger travelling into the humid groove and seeking out her quivering anus.

“Open,” I told her. “Open up, or else I will make it six,” I warned, knowing she was particularly embarrassed about showing us her anus.

With an additional little whimper and a bow of her head, Rose pushed her bottom out letting me burrow between her now widely parted cheeks to feel her anus.

“Be good,” I murmured, wanting Emily to see this. I wanted the girl to see just how my maid obeyed, how she succumbed to my every wish and whim. And Rose did, angling out her bottom, letting me examine her anus in preference to receiving any more strokes of the rattan cane than was really necessary.

“Relax,” I murmured, my finger poised at the entrance to her tight little anus. I felt it give and pressed. The sphincter slowly gave way, admitting my finger within.

“Good girl,” I whispered, keeping my finger embedded in her anus for the younger girls to witness.

I pulled Rose to her knees and offered her my finger. Wide eyed and fearful of the cane, she stared up at me as she took my finger into her mouth and sucked on it, willingly licking her oils from my digit until I was satisfied. I let Rose go and she shuffled off over to the corner, rubbing her smarting bottom.

My attention then turned to my Granddaughter.

“Emily!” I said, smiling as I knelt. “Will you be good, or do I need to use the strap, or the crop?” I asked.

She glanced towards her mother and licked her lips.

“I’ll be good, Grandfather,” she vowed.

“Prepare!” I ordered.

Her hands went meekly to the fastenings, and her cheeks glowed as she saw my attention fully upon her, watching her gown slowly loosen from her pale body, then gape.

There is an indescribable pleasure in watching a child disrobe. If the child is too young, then they are unaware of the sensuality of their nakedness and only that they are being naughty.

Too old, and they are fully aware of their sexuality and their look is that of an adult, all knowing and teasing.

In between, and there is an age where innocence meets knowledge, and where the half known creates a wonderful glow to their skin and a particularly curious expression on their faces as they disrobe.

Emily had this knowingness about her; this half known that meant she knew baring herself was more than just being naughty.

She had learnt a little about sex, and yet the full measure was still beyond her. She had watched, but had not yet participated.

She had felt pleasure, but not the full gambit.

She looked absolutely adorable as she let her soft cotton vest slide from her shoulders. It bared her little breasts, seemingly growing each day, tipped with the sweetest of pink nipples. It made me wish I had educated her mother at an earlier age.

My eyes slid below her belly button and her eyes fluttered as she held herself still, letting me look at her lovely little cunt.

“To the table,” I ordered.

“Are you going to educate me, Grandfather?” she asked.

I took her under her arms and lifted her onto the table, sitting her on the edge and smiling down at her as I drew her knees apart.

“Are you going to be good?” I asked her, watching her blush as the widening of her thighs caused her slit to gape, exposing the bright pink interior, her prepuce and the tiny hole to her lovely little cunt.

“Are you going to touch me back there?” she enquired, blushing hotly.

“Are you clean?” I asked, my fingers going to the base of her vulva to tickle her there, making her jerk and gasp.

She nodded.

“I did as Mama showed me,” she told me, blushing with the effort of having to speak of something so delicate. A slender leg rose of its own and she blushed all the brighter as she realised she was helping me reach beneath her, where a finger could rub her anus and discover how dry and clean she was.

“Higher,” I breathed. She leant to one side and lifted herself onto one bottom cheek. With excitement surging through me, I invaded her little anus and watched her bite her lip and whimper.

“Relax,” I coached. I felt her anus, tightening, relaxing, clenching nervously before fluttering open again. My finger slid deeper, until held by her gasping body, and then I pulled out to leave her gasping while I examined her scent with my nose.

“Undo my trousers,” I told her softly.

I watched her face as she looked up at me, clearly startled, then down at my trousers.

Slowly, with a slowness that was more erotic than maddening, she reached for my trousers and fumbled with the first button. Pearly teeth bit upon her lower lips as she concentrated on freeing each turtle shell button from my rough tweed trousers. I undid the braces for her, and the material fell away, leaving my cock standing under my shirttail, pushing it out like a tent peg.

“Uncover me,” I told her.

I could hear her panting as she obeyed. Carefully, so as not to touch me, she eased my shirt to either side of my cock, letting him stare at her, rising and lowering slightly with my pulse, drooling slightly with the thought of taking her.

“You’ve seen what he does, haven’t you, Emily?” I asked.

She nodded, licking her lips. I’m sure my words conjured up images of Abigail being ravished, her body being rocked back and forth by my eager plumbing of her depths.

“Lie back,” I ordered.

Her breath quickening, she obeyed, but her eyes spoke of her growing fright. I smiled to put her at ease and stepped round to bring myself to the side of her head. Turning her face towards me, I presented her with my cock.

Ah, the look on her face as the forgiving head of my cock met her lips and forced entry into her mouth. How lovely she looked, coming to terms with the bulbous nut in her hot little mouth, her tongue inadvertently grazing my flesh, taking my flavour with it.

Then came the swallow that tightened her mouth around me, and the tender feel of her lips around the most sensitive part of my shaft. I drew away before I lost control and levelled it at her face instead.

“Lick it, Emily. Lick it well, because the better you wet it, the easier it will be,” I told her, panting with lust as I did so.

“Remember what I told you, Emily,” her mother urged, kneeling down beside us.

Only then did I notice that she had removed her dress and now only wore the little corset I had bought her, her breasts offered over its top, dark pink nipples fully erect.

While gazing at my daughter’s bust, Emily had craned her neck to lick my shaft. It sent an electrifying sensation down to my balls, to be added to by yet another as her tongue slid along me yet again. Emily looked past my cock to gauge my expression while her mother beamed at me proudly.

“Is she licking you well, Father? Is she preparing you nicely?” Sarah teased, a hand sliding between her own thighs, to wantonly masturbate herself.

Emily licked me afresh. She had my flavour now and reached out to hold me so her tongue could run along my shaft without it bounding away. The sight and feel of her little fingers upon him only served to shorten my breath still more.

My cock looked large beside her tiny face. The skin looked so fierce and red, grizzled with veins compared to the smooth alabaster of her cheeks, now glowing from within as she meekly licked away the thick oil that seeped from its eye.

“Legs up, feet on the edge of the table,” I told her, stepping back, breathless with desire.

She did so, and yet I still had to take a hold of her waist to draw her further towards the edge, positioning her precious cunt closer to me. I let my cock slide along the smooth edges of her half parted vulva, looking at the brazen sight one moment, then her glowing face the next.

Emily glowed now from within, and her darling little nipples stood erect, like heated copper rivets. I took a hold of my cock and pushed him downwards, letting his head press between her forgiving labia to test the terrain and seek out the best method of attack.

Such care and attention was never taken in India. The girls were a commodity to use and then discard as our pleasure dictated. Not so little Emily, who panted and stared at me, her wrists held at her side by her mother.

Once more it struck me just how large my cock looked when placed up against her little cunt. The ruby nut seemed impossibly large as it pushed her labia apart and slid down, into the hollow of her vaginal mouth, where her heat sank into me, hardening my cock still further.

“Mama!” she whimpered.

I pressed, her tight little hole unforgiving.

“Mama!” she sang, urgency in her voice.

I pressed more firmly, a hand around my cock to stop it bending.

Rose watched over her shoulder, her bottom beautifully lined and her body moving with the urgency of her fingers. Abigail was starring open mouthed, both hands squeezing her bottom where, with finger extended, she could caress her bottom hole to excite herself. Sarah stood at the far end of the table and leant over Emily, holding her wrists while letting her pendulous breasts sway over the girl’s head.

I pressed with more urgency, and with a gasp that was drowned by her cry, forced myself into her.

God, but how her heat invaded me! She surrounded me, gripping me tightly, every whimper she sounded matched by movement of her passage around my bloated head. I throbbed with new urgency as I looked down at her cunt, young labia forced to bulge out around my cock, her prepuce standing at the head.

“Mama!” Emily cried, arching her back and flaying her legs. I gripped her heels, swinging them outward while pressing myself deeper into her tight little passage.

“Mama!” she cried, more urgently. I was gaining purchase and panting with the effort. Another press forward, another strident cry from the poor child and I stopped to gather my breath.

Sarah gathered her daughter’s wrists together to hold them with one hand and stroked her with the other.

“Relax, let it slide through you,” she urged softly.

I watched Emily’s face as I moved, pulling out, pushing in, her flesh clinging to me.

“Mama!” she squealed.

I lengthened my stroke, dragging myself partially from her clinging flesh, to then press back inwards again, groaning as she tightened once more about me. I pushed deeply, wanting that all-invading heat to engulf me, and gasped as I felt her virginity tear.

Emily squealed, her body tossing and stretching as her maidenhead was torn asunder and her passage was forced to stretch to accommodate my cock.

Fresh heat enveloped my sunken head, lubricating me and allowing me to finish entering the girl.

I was not the only one to stare at our joined bodies, at her little pink vulva, pushed out around my sunken shaft where dark veins pulsed with vigour, feeding the hardness inside.

The urge to move was like blood lust in battle, and with a cry that silenced her weeping, I began to move back and forth, aided by her virgin bloodletting.

Abigail paled and licked her lips. Rose groaned and widened her stance. Sarah crooned to her panting, weeping daughter and urged her forbearance as I moved with ever increasing passion.

“She’s so lovely!” I panted, sliding back into her little pale body and watching her tummy rise as a result.

“Do you feel it? Do you feel him moving within you?” Sarah urged her daughter while the child bit her lower lip and struggled under my assault.

I raised her legs by her heels and then slid into her at a different angle, groaning mightily as my head felt the greater friction of her passage.

“Mama!” Emily keened.

Panting, I slid back and forth, each thrust adding more weight to the ring of dried blood forming around the base of my cock. Each thrust pulled at my glands, affording me the greatest of pleasures.

“Fill her, Father!” Sarah gasped, watching with brazen pleasure, the taking of her daughter. “I will pleasure her when you are done!” she urged.

I imagined it, and felt the dam break within me and cried out as my burning seed made its way up my cock. Scalding me, it reached the tip and forced me to jerk, deep within the girl, splattering the roof of her passage with my seed.

Held in my pleasure, I thrust again and again, held, forced to do so by my ejaculation, until my balls had emptied and my cock began to deflate.

With a groan, I slid away, only to have Sarah push past me in her urgency to kneel between her daughter’s quivering thighs, her eyes alight as she viewed the ruin of her child’s maidenhead.

“Oh, my darling,” she murmured. Then she was there, holding Emily’s cunt lips apart so her tongue could flutter within, licking like a hummingbird, seeking out the sweetness from every part of her precious and rare little flower.

“Mama!” Emily squealed, lifting her bottom and staring, wide-eyed, at the ceiling above her.

“It’s all right, my darling,” Sarah murmured, pulling her daughter further apart and watching for a moment as my seed and her mixed blood slowly oozed from her dilated passage. Then her tongue was there, licking the rich ambrosia and forcing the poor child to jerk upwards and pant.

“She coming,” I panted, yet to recover my breath, and unlikely to do so while such a sight continued in front of me.

Even my cock, sore and exhausted as he was, jerked with anticipation of raising his head once again.

Rose and Abigail watched, as enthralled as I, as Sarah busied herself at Emily’s crotch, licking skilfully at the delicate meat, sucking upon it in her eagerness for all she could obtain, her daughter’s squeal of climatic achievement otherwise ignored in her eagerness for more.

Going around the table, I turned Emily’s head towards me and gasped as she freely opened her mouth for me, crying out around my head as her mother brought her on once more.

Emily’s tongue lavished her saliva upon my cock, her lips tensing around me and greedily sucking upon the sweet and salty mixture of flavours she had richly deposited on me.

Her lithe young hips bucked, twisted and jerked as her mother so knowingly fed from her, lapping so feverishly at her dainty little crotch before engulfing her sweet little prepuce and sucking upon it, filling it and swelling it with blood before flicking it with her tongue.

Emily came yet again, quivering and keening, no longer able to suck or lick me.

Reverting to my hand, I looked down at her as her mother so cleverly continued to stimulate her. The arousing sight and the thick wetness that lubricated my hand quickly brought me to a second peak, and I inundated her girlish face with my spurting seed while, she too, cried agonisingly from yet another orgasm.

“I hope this teaches you a lesson,” I told Emily as her mother helped her rise.

“Yes, Grandfather,” she mumbled, her blushes extending to her chest and her dainty little nipples.

“You will remind her of her place in society, won’t you, Father?” Sarah asked, pressing the child to her bosom and smiling.

“Most assuredly,” I told her.

“Now off to bed with you all,” I told them.

Abigail and Rose gathered their clothes and curtsied whilst Sarah gathered Emily into her arms to carry her upstairs.

I remained to contemplate my circumstances, the responsibility to my maids and family weighing heavily upon my mind. Such burdens must be borne with fortitude, I reflected, my mind casting back to the events of the evening, and to the delightful glow of their flesh and to all their lovely charms.

I would wait a while, and then check upon my daughter, ensuring that she was comfortable. I would then listen to her prayers and perhaps take her for a ride. Such are the pleasurable duties of a gentleman and a disciplinarian.