CHAPTER 6
After the incantations and the hymns-the promises we fractured as we spoke-bells, flowers, confetti, and the trailing of my long gown in the church, the world was born anew. Arnold was quiet-looked like a soldier who had lost his gun, I thought. Returning home, I changed into a lighter garb laid out for me. The skirt, white taffeta with pink, was fluffed, had loose pleats and a ribbon hanging down. A blouse absorbed the fullness of my breasts. A large bow-tie I wore in the French fashion; it was modish then, had just come in. I wore white, patterned stockings with pink garters tight, but wore no drawers. I was at sacrifice. 'What an arse she has!', I heard on entering the drawing room where the private reception was arranged.
Adelaide appeared and kissed my cheek, Pamela smiled, and her companion bowed. I had not seen them since that fateful night, but swore I would not blush, and did not do. Then Arnold's sisters were brought forward and arranged themselves to kiss me on both cheeks in turn. 'I will have your mouth tonight', the elder said. Her name was Constance; she was slim and tall. The other, Fiona, was quite small and neat, and a perky, lively air. 'You may or you may not', I said. I looked to Arnold, but his mother held his hand as though it were a glove she had long lost and now recovered. Father conversed with Adelaide and Mama stood with Jane and Eveline. Much punch was poured; a certain merriment obtained. 'Are you being querulous? You have not been tasted yet, and when you are…' So Constance murmured to me, but I cut her off. I kept my smile. All hands had touched me in their passage, felt my bottom and caressed its cheeks. I had not jerked, I had not jerked at all. All eyes were bright around me and they watched my every movement- waiting, as I knew. 'I may employ an amanuensis', I replied. Unsure of the meaning of the word, I used it out of mischief. 'That is done?', she asked. She looked dismayed, and turned towards her father, Douglas, who stood bluff, undressed me with his eyes and then restored my blouse at least. I watched her speak to him and saw him nod. Papa held Adelaide close to his side, and I remembered how her breasts had shown. Upon a moment I was then confronted by my father-in-law. His lowered voice presaged a confidence he did not fully feel, I thought.
'It is done, my dear, but on the other hand there is a price to pay'. 'Indeed? My purse is empty', I replied. All eyes were on me. I drank slowly from my glass, but did not take my eyes from his. He was not portly, nor was tall nor short. His waxed moustache was proud above his lip. An inner quivering I knew, but I stood still.
'Your lovenest will not be, my love. Not on this night nor any other, I believe. Forgive me for a moment', and-so saying-he stepped back across the room to speak to Papa and Mama. I stared at Adelaide.
She blinked and smiled a smile uncertain, crossed her arms and then unfolded them. Jane winked at me. I emptied back my punch and felt my silk chemise against my quim-a curtain fluttering against my curls. I had a moisture of excitement there. 'It shall be Adelaide', I said, and all stood still. I had interrupted, as it seemed, a conference of lewd intent. 'Yes, Adelaide!', laughed Jane, who caught my look. 'Not me! It is not fair!', squealed Adelaide and made to run. I barred the double doors to her. Papa came up and took her elbow in his hand. 'Stand still!', he barked at her. A servant entered unawares, stared at us and retreated. I turned around and turned the key. 'Adelaide!', said Mama. In her eyes was a bleak look I had not seen before. Some vengeance curling there perhaps, brought from its slumbers to dismay the day. 'The girls will hold her-Jane and Eveline'. 'AH!', came from Adelaide, but she was gripped, wrists held behind her back, I knew a conqueror, a warrior, emerge in me. 'Eveline, pull up her skirt!'-'YEE-OOOH!' came from her as I spoke, but then her thighs were bared, fringe of her muff. Pink stockings girded tightly up her thighs, pale bulb of bottom just a little shown. And all the room was still, was still.
'Let her be seen', said Pamela's companion. Hands extending, he drew up her skirts the more and bared all that was quite delectable to view-her quim well-thatched, thighs plumpish, pearly skin, her bottom naked and impertinent, well cleft for ventures she would now sustain.
'James will be first-then you', I said to him while Adelaide effected struggles, but no longer squealed. She clipped her thighs together. They were smacked by Eveline who knelt and bunched her fist between the girl's round knees. 'Papa also', I said, and added, 'But I do not wish to watch'. Their eyes were awed. Adelaide cried out my name in shrill despair. 'She will be tasted, as I would have been', I said, unlocked the door and slipped upstairs, my heart a-raging like a summer storm. I had undone myself perhaps. I heard a thin-pitched cry and smiled, but held a moment to the bannisters. Mama would nip her with her teeth, perhaps. I did not really know the way of things, felt both despondent and yet proud. Adelaide had failed the test, had not been quiet. I knew instinctively one should be quiet, and on tiptoe to passion, as Papa had said. I had not mentioned Arnold of deliberation-or I had forgot. It did not matter, anyway. I could not see his lips rimmed with her salt. His Mama would delay him from the deed, or mayhap hold him back. Imaginations of his withered penis in my mind. I was a coward, so I told myself. I should have stayed and should have watched, yet had a slight distaste for orgies of that kind, however ceremonial they were. I did believe they were. Oddly enough, they have solemnity. The men's pricks rise, but are not shown.
The girl is feted afterwards with drinks, caresses, praise- all that, then order is restored and partners quietly chosen. This I learned in aftermath, but knew it also from an instinct that I had. Some thirty minutes passed before I heard a footfall on the stairs. I knew its weight, I sensed its purpose, and sat still, my belly warm, my knees apart beyond the latitude of ladyhood. I waited on repentance and on hope. The door opened to admit my father-in-law. 'The girls will have you first-then Y, he said. A small black whip hung down beside his thigh. The end was knotted and it twitched. I rose as if to greet him, but I did not smile. 'It is the price-the penalty', he said. 'In my own house?' I tried to stare him out, could not, and bowed my head a little. To his glee, I think. 'There will be others on your bed, between your thighs'. 'Mama will not permit'.
'She will be occupied, and is already so. Nests may be spermed today-it is the way of it. Remove your gown and your chemise. You have no drawers on, I believe?' 'I have not, no'. My mood was moody, ever changeable. From earth I trod on swamp and then on earth again.
'Kneel well up on your bed and let your bottom overhang the edge.
The whip will not lambast you overmuch, I swear'. 'And who prescribed this penalty?' I loosed my dress, began to draw it off. His eyes glowed at my nakedness beneath, my stockings taut as father had desired. 'Tradition, Emily-and there are others you will need to learn. My Lord, yes! I was told your legs were beautiful. Indeed they are. Turn round and show your bottom to me, girl'. My gown discarded, I cast off my silk chemise and laid it on a chair, exposing as I turned my cleft cheeks to his wicked view. 'Superb! All that has been said of you is true. A perfect arse-a wondrous globe! Now, Emily, to the bed. Kneel up and place your hands before you as you do-and do so with a certain grace, I see, that well becomes your future. Legs apart, girl! Have you not been taught to show?' I did not answer, hung my head, displayed my cleft, my quim, to him, and knew not why I did it and yet knew I must. His maleness was apparent in his stride, his stance, the bulge beneath his trousers, just as Papa was, and James, and Pamela's companion. I heard footsteps, heard a laugh from Adelaide, and then Papa's gruff tones. She uttered up a little 'Oh!', a girlish squeal, and was no doubt prepared to say her prayers. 'ZOOO-WHITTT!', I heard, and then the whip's tip scorched my nether cheeks. I yelped, bucked forward, rocked. The sting was deep. It swirled across my bottom and explored the chasm, but before I could recover came another and another then, snake striking, biting, a full flare of heat. I heard a wailing high inside my head and knew it to be mine, heard my thin screeches echo to the walls.