'D… don't!', I whimpered, but suppressed the please' I almost uttered, too. 'YEE-AAAARGH!' burst from my lips for even in my whimpering he coursed me twice again and caused my hips to swirl. The bed bounced underneath my knees. Tears plopping from my eyes fell on my hands. Red-hot, white-hot, my bottom churned, and then his hands assailed me, held me still. 'Hold still, girl-keep your legs apart', he growled. 'I c… c… cannot!' But my howls ignored, he clamped me tighter, forced my hips to still, then suavely moved a finger up and down my groove, sought my rosette and felt the puckered rim.-'I am, I am, I am a bride', I moaned. I cared not what I said, and jittered, wriggled, as he urged his finger into my sleek channel, causing me to gasp. 'To all of us this day, I trust. Sustain it, Emily; you will have bigger there'. 'No, no! OOOH-AH!' His finger deeper up, I felt the knuckle and he twisted it quite gently, causing me to hiss and feel my rimmed rosette expand. His free hand seized upon my neck, forced my head down, nose buried in the quilt.
'Silence!', he uttered and I clenched my fists, swam in the darkness under eyelids that were closed, and snivelled as he moved his digit in and out. 'Now move your bottom back and forth, or you shall taste the whip more bitterly than you have known'. 'C… c… c… OOOH!', lips squashed, I choked and moved my bottom timidly, aware of dulled surrender in my mind and yet experiencing withal a sense of deep excitement to receive the probe. 'Straighten up now, Emily', I heard, and did so awkwardly. His finger half slipped out with the contraction of my bottom, but the tip remained. No sooner was my body straight than it urged within again and caused my legs to quiver, though I strove to keep them straight. My back was pressed against his broader form. His free arm stole around my waist and the hand descended slowly down my belly's curve to brush my thicket and then cup my quim. 'Turn your head now and extend your tongue to mine', he growled, his finger parting, as he spoke, the rolled lips of my cunny. A whimper that was fretful sounded from my mouth-was followed by a quiet, submissive squeak as I was forced up on my toes by the insurgence of his finger in my bottomhole. My neck turned slowly and I found his mouth. 'How sweet your breath', he murmured, lips to lips. His tongue was broad and lapped my slimmer one. I sagged, was finger-thrust upright again, and-open-mouthed-felt swoony, trickling my saliva round his lips. A sound-creaking of door.
Constance appeared, Fiona in her train. I struggled, wriggled, but was held, his mouth mashed deeper into mine, my neck a-strain, eyes wide and staring sideways at the pair. 'Tongue her, Fiona', came from Constance then. The young girl knelt before me and I made to clip my thighs. My lips were slippery beneath his own, neck twisted painfully.
Fiona's head came up and forced my knees apart. His hand uncupped my cunny and her warm mouth buried up beneath, tongue sleeking into bubbling moisture there and causing me to gasp upon his breath the while that Constance fondled my hard nipples with her fingertips.
'Leave her to us, Papa; you promised'. Constance said. Her tongue lisped long and wet between our own while Fiona's found my perky spot and maddened it. 'Do not be long about it then, for we must have her home with us. Bring her submissive to the carriage when you do'.
'What else?' asked Constance. No sooner had his wicked finger plopped from out my bottom cheeks, and he unfolding me, than she whipped round to take his place and brought her arms beneath my armpits and so held me thus. I stared at him glaze-eyed and jittered, mewed, as Fiona's tongue extolled my spurting juices, gently caressing up and down my stockinged thighs with her soft hands. 'Quite beautiful. Arnold chose well', he said.
'Papa! He did not chose her-Mama did, as you well know. Pray leave us to our privacies. Jane is not finished with as yet, and nor is Eveline. If you would-'
'Yes'. I struggled as he went, to no avail, was pressed and dragged upon my bed, and such a twisting, wrestling then occurred, all silent, with my puffing, that I scarce knew where I was-whose legs were whose. Constance inverted herself, face down into my belly and her calves around my neck. The pair then rolled me on my hip, Fiona's tongue a-working at my bottom and that of her sister underneath my cunnylips. 'GOO-GOOO!', I choked to no avail. Twin tongues invaded me. That of Fiona sleeked within my rosette while she sprang my cheeks apart. I tried to free my head but I could not. My belly rippled and I came again, saltspray upon the mouth of Constance, and she lapping greedily. I seized my pillow, bit into its plump white surface, strained my legs and came and came again…
Anonymous Emily: Or, the Voluptuous Delights of a Once-Innocent Young Lady
CHAPTER 7
I slept. Defensively I slept and yet it was a slumber brief but deep. The bottom sheet was sticky under me as I awoke, saw Jane. She bent to me and kissed my brow. I scanned the room for my assailants, then sank back again. 'Was it nice?', she asked with laughter in her voice, drew down the bedclothes, saw my swollen nipples, brown on cream, and sighed. 'It looks to be; we are all tidy now. You may get up. Come, let me brush your hair'. 'I hate them all', I bleated. Quite exhausted from my spillings, I had not even felt myself put into bed. 'Pleasure can be resented, I suppose, if it should come from those we do not like, and yet… Pleasure is pleasure, darling. Once you have succumbed, you may again'. 'Shut up!', I blurted, then sat up and swung my legs from out the bed. My stockings were all wrinkled up. 'Did you?', I asked her pertly, and got up, having my naked bottom patted with affection as I did.
'Oh, as to that… but do get dressed. We are all tidied, as I said, and all is orderly by now. No one will remark upon your absence.
When penalties are to be paid, the bill is often quickly offered up, and best it were it should be paid without remorse. I never really have remorse myself-not when my cunny tingles still'. 'I don't doubt that', I mumbled, but she tickled me, caused me to giggle all despite myself, then saw to my attire and helped me dress. 'The world is upside down', I said. 'Oh, silly, it is never that, but we are, sometimes. When you are trestled, then you really feel it so'.
'Trestled?', I asked, sat at my dressing table while she brushed my hair. 'Oh, I forgot, of course, how distant you have been to some things here. Yes, Emily, a trestle with a cushion on the top.
There is one in the corner of the stable you have never seen. Covered with green baize it is when not in use. When hung upon it, one's legs dangle down, bottom upraised and head hung low. Impossible to touch the floor with toes or reaching fingers, though one tries. And then the tawse-maybe the cane or birch-stings deep into one's nether cheeks and… OOOH! Her hips wriggled as she spoke. I stared at her reflection in the glass, suppressed the utterance I might have made and said instead, 'Oh, Jane, please stay with me!' 'In your new, married state, my love? Did you hear what Constance did to Arnold downstairs-oh! How docile he becomes in female hands! His prick is really reedy, darling, thin and long. Perfect for bottom-tupping, though! Stay with you? May I? Yes, my love. Mama said that I might; I asked, you see. She had the thought of it already in her heart, and Papa…'
'What? What did he say?'
'That we might take such roads as we may find. He is persuaded of our good sense and our carefulness- did not say so in such words, but I read it in his eyes'. 'You read as well as I, Jane!'-Papa's voice. He entered, closed the door, stood with his back to it. I heard a scuttering of feet outside and knew it to be Adelaide returning from devotions, no doubt dressed again. The thought was catty, and I stroked its fur. Hers would be moist. Were we then somehow kin, or were all females so beneath the skin? 'Jane is brushing my hair', I mumbled like a child. 'And well she does it, Emily. As to you, my love, the trap is closed and yet is open. Such are the paradoxes we encounter in the world'. I sprang up, and the hairbrush clattered down. 'Why did you make me, then-why did?', I flared at him. Gold-ringed, my slim heart-finger waved in a remonstrance. 'May I sit down?', he asked and took a chair close to the dressing table, knees against my knees. 'I have to tell you now, to tell you both, that our finances are not quite what they once were. Your father-in-law is wealthy and will shower you with delights, as I cannot henceforth. And Jane will be no less well-served, I'm sure.' I gaped, knees slackening. Jane stared at him as well.