Poor Caroline blushed crimson under the lash of his sarcasm, for well she knew that it was not the presence of this fumbling gawky lout that embarrassed her, but the idea that a few hours back she had warmly welcomed his ardent caresses, and had most avidly handled and caressed his vigorous bolus. The fact that her uncle had apprehended her in the midst of this delectable pastime caused her confusion, especially as she had previously submitted herself to only the lascivious caresses of her uncle.
As before mentioned, Caroline blushed a deep crimson, under the wicked shaft of her uncle's fierce sarcasm and faltered in the center of the library. Poor Carl looked wildly about, like a trapped bird seeking vainly for egress. He felt almost as humiliated as poor Caroline and most ardently regretted that he had submitted to the proposition of the feverish girl. He felt that for all time henceforth he was through with women; never again could he relish having intercourse with another girl.
Lord Roxboro stood in the center of the luxurious room and surveyed the embarrassed couple.
Poor little child, so very embarrassed; and yet so recently she had the satisfaction of having this same stable lout insert his vigorous prick into her cunt. And mingled with the stable odors, she proceeded to very thoroughly enjoy herself without any visible signs of embarrassment. What a strange world.
They gave evidence of most acute embarrassment. He looked from one to the other, thoroughly enjoying their discomfiture.
“Well, my friends, what do you want me to do?” he said, looking from one to the other, and they, like a pair of guilty children, hung their heads and remained silent.
He continued to calmly survey them, with the assurance that they were both at his complete mercy.
Strutting about the room like a peacock during the performance, he suddenly wheeled about on his heel and pointed his finger fiercely at Carl.
“You, sir, do you wish me to cast you off, out into exterior darkness? How will you obtain another position? Cast out from Roxboro, a discredited servant, without a vestige of reference, a rag of character, with nowhere to go.”
“Oh no, master, please do not do that!” cried poor Carl, blushing to the roots of his wavy hair and trembling at the dreadful prospect of being cast adrift.
Lord Roxboro turned majestically and surveyed his wretched niece:
“And you, miss, do you want me to cast you and your little sister from the hospitable doors of Roxboro? Do you desire to add to your guilt the crime of being the cause of your sister, an innocent victim of your licentiousness, forced to endure the misery and horror of a homeless existence-two girls adrift in the world, legitimate prey for every randy male that desires intercourse. Or perhaps this gallant stableboy will procure a horse stall somewhere and shelter you.”
“Ah, no, no! A thousand times no!” pleaded poor Caroline, terrified at the picture painted by her uncle. “The thought of such an existence would cause me to seek yon shimmering river, and ere yet the door had swung on the manor, I would be engulfed beneath the caressing waters of the merciful lake.”
“Tut, tut, Caroline. Don't dramatize this problem. You may both sit down.”
His lordship seated himself at the escritoire and took up a quill and scribbled furiously.
For several seconds nothing was heard in the room but the tick of the clock on the marble mantel. The scratch of the pen was heard as it swirled over the heavy bond paper.
Arriving at the end of his labor, he picked up the paper and dusted it with drying powder and carefully surveyed his composition.
Turning to both the culprits, he motioned for their attention and remarked:
“Both of you. I have prepared on this sheet of paper a brief account of what transpired in the barn today between you. This document you will both sign as a promise of good faith. I will place it here in the safe, and upon the very first evidence of misconduct between you two, I will cast both of you off and publish the contents of this letter. Now, Carl, you first, come here and sign.” He pointed to the paper. Carl approached tremblingly and extended his nervous hand to take the pen that Lord Roxboro held out. With fear and trembling, he affixed his scrawly signature to the document.
“Now, Caroline, you are next.”
She advanced with trembling knees and affixed her signature to the document, then, breathing a sigh of relief and almost fainting, she dropped the pen from her trembling hand and weakly wobbled back to her seat.
“Tarry here a little, I'm not finished with you both,” said Lord Roxboro. “There is more for both of you.” Going to the alcove, he soon returned with a camera and a tripod.
Adjusting this in the center of the room, he busied himself in various preparations about the machine.
Carl and Caroline watched Lord Roxboro with wonder-filled eyes not unmixed with apprehension. Finally everything was arranged and adjusted to his satisfaction.
“Come here, Caroline, and you also, Carl,” he commanded and motioned to the space directly in front of the machine.
They both sprang with alacrity to obey him and sought out the place designated. They stood there while his lordship busied himself with peeking through the lens and moving it about and adjusting it various ways until he gained the desired position. Finally uncovering his head, he looked over the camera at them and remarked:
“Now, children, what I am going to have you both do will be extremely easy, and confidentially I am of the opinion that you will both relish it to a surprising degree. Now, Caroline, you are to open the flap in front of Carl's pants, and take out that prong of his that you were so merrily bouncing on in the barn today. Quick, girl, get it out before it swells and we have to cut the top of his pants off.”
Caroline paled visibly and made a faint motion of protest:
“I'll take it out myself, Master Roxboro,” said the gallant Carl, wishing to spare Caroline the humiliation, and he made as if to unloosen the flap of his trousers.
“Silence,” roared his lordship. “Come, Caroline, take this succulent morsel out.”
“Oh, uncle, please do not ask me to do this. I can't!”
Carl was fumbling with the buttons of his pants when Lord Roxboro sternly stood up and commanded Caroline to listen.
Carl immediately dropped his hand and stood expectantly. “As I remarked, Carl, it is unnecessary for you to bother yourself about taking out your valiant bolus. Girls are better adapted to this sort of thing. They love to handle it.” He spoke in a silken, soft tone of voice to Carl.
“Most girls are particularly adept in the art of molding and caressing our feverish prongs. Come, Caroline, do as I tell you. This very instant, take it out, grab that charming piece of meat.”
“Yes, uncle,” murmured Caroline, reaching over hastily and unfastening the few buttons of Carl's pants and inserting her small, dainty hand into the depths of his trousers.
Lord Roxboro's eyes lit up with anticipation, and he quickly stepped to Carl's side, where he sized up Carl's glowing pintle.
“Ah! not so bad,” mused Lord Roxboro as he surveyed the magnificent prong, which was fully as large and robust-looking as the one that hung between his own legs.
“Ah, Caroline. I'll wager that jock did not quickly release you in the barn. Come, open his trousers fully and drag out his golden balls! Open them so that I can see all of his glorious root, balls and all! Hurry, Caroline.”
And Caroline quickly tore at the pants and lifted out all his genitals, displaying the huge and vigorous testicles, covered with stiff hair.
Lord Roxboro surveyed them with the air of a judge about to award a prize, and indeed it would be difficult not to betray admiration, for it is doubtful if anywhere in “Merrie England” one could find as perfect a prong and as hardy a bag of “nuts.”