state it was the proper thing to do-she drove the point of her tongue between the luscious lips and wriggled it.
“Oh, how lovely! Do it more!”
Helen's face was full of wonder. Her bottom jerked and her fingers clenched and unclenched as Pamela's tongue began to work back and forth. Lifting her legs by instinct, she placed them on Pamela's shoulders and so hid nothing of her charms. Her lovelips became moist and oily as Pamela licked her and she could not resist twisting the upper part of her body and kissing Miranda.
This, in turn, gave Pamela yet another idea. With her finger, she reached up and began to play with Miranda's slit at the same time.
“Oh, it's nice! I like it, too!”
Both the sisters' bottoms bounced now as each had the most thrilling of sensations. Their bellies tightened and they felt as if they had fireworks exploding in them. Lifting their stockinged legs even higher, they implored Pamela to go on and on. By this time both Pamela's mouth and her finger were soaked in their juices, and she herself would have loved nothing better than to be receiving an injection at the same time. The thought even crossed her mind that such a thing might be possible, but then she chided herself for being even more wicked than she was.
The girls were each coming for a third time now- she could feel it. Their eyes rolled, they hugged one another, they kissed passionately, each seeking the other's tongue, so enraptured were they that all else was cast aside.
Alas, their merry party was soon to end. Even as Pamela decided they had both had enough for the moment, there came a knock on the door. Springing up, she put her fingers to her lips and quickly threw the sisters' drawers under the bed. Bidding them quietly to cover themselves and sit demurely, Pamela then answered the door.
“Miss, I'm sorry to disturb you, but the Mistress wishes to see you.”
Chapter three
Lady Belinda Bromley was, as she often nowadays told herself, in full bloom. At the age of forty-one, she possessed the full curves that drew so many men's eyes to her. Her ankles were slender and nicely turned, her bosom bold and firm. Her bottom and thighs were as well-fashioned as any in the neighbourhood, and if she thought that herself, then so did a dozen or more of her admirers.
Belinda came of good stock and knew it. Her husband, Sir Richard, was of a quieter nature, though given to the occasional discreet frolic. His wife never interfered with him in that respect, nor he with her. It was understood that the county aristocracy were of a sporting nature, and Belinda was considered a leader in many things that had to do with boudoirs and convenient sofas.
Her great rage of late was fancy-dress balls, and she was already planning another. Seated with her at this moment-or rather seated under her since Belinda's proud bottom was resting indiscreetly upon his cock-was Captain Henry Dancer, who looked as sprightly as his name. Fondling Belinda's breasts he sighed and endeavoured to move his stiff tool back and forth under her bottom, but her weight was too much for him.
“Such a bore, Henry, but I must see the girls' new companion. No, do not go, dear boy. I understand she is quite enchanting.”
So saying, Belinda rose and looked down with a pleased smile at the horny condition she had aroused in the Captain who was ten years her junior. Belinda adored younger men, but equally she adored some younger women and had entertained a number in her bed when her husband was absent. Sometimes these little affairs had taken place in the company of discreet gentlemen-a matter which called for much quiet movement between bedrooms when the servants were abed.
Hearing approaching footsteps, Belinda seated herself opposite her new paramour. A pleased smile broke across her beautiful features at Pamela's timid appearance.
“My dear, how enchanting to meet you! May I introduce Captain Dancer?”
The said gentleman had of course already arisen, though in doing so his trousers showed considerable signs of strain. Not being unaware of what was going on in the world, Pamela could not help but glance down once she had noted the swelling there. Seeing this, though saying nothing of it, Lady Bromley smiled anew. Being in a particularly sportive mood this day, she wanted some rather special enjoyment. So, begging Pamela to be seated and plying her much with sherry, Lady Bromley engaged her in apparently earnest conversation about her plans to give occasional lessons to the girls.
Pamela had dreaded this moment. She was little aware that rudimentary education among the rich was often little better than among the poor. The well-to-do had often better ways of disposing of their time than in learning drab additions, multiplications and divisions. In fact, though Belinda could count her bank balance, she was frequently to be found a dunce in other matters. She did not care. Bank balances and pleasure were the most important things of all.
So as much as she asked, Pamela was able to answer to her satisfaction. Whereupon Belinda put her slyest question.
“And the birch, my dear Pamela-you are schooled in the use of that?”
“Oh, no! I mean-not very much.”
Pamela was downcast. She wished that she had pretended she did know a lot. After all, it was surely easy enough to apply a birch to a young girl's bottom. Her expression appeared to say so, but her Mistress- though smiling for reasons of her own-was shaking her head.
“No, Pamela, 'tis not so simple. There is an art in it-is there not, Henry?”
Henry, very concerned in carrying out a private survey of Pamela's lissome figure, had listened to little that was said. Nevertheless he deemed it vital to agree and nodded.
“Oh, yes, m'dear, yes-lessons must be learned. And indeed the teacher must be taught.”
It was so exactly what Belinda had wanted him to say that she all but applauded. Thereupon, to Pamela's astonishment, she found herself rising as her companions suddenly did. They were to repair to the summer-house for a very important piece of education. Having rather fond memories of summerhouses, Pamela rather wondered what her fate was to be.
Captain Dancer walked ahead of them, looking very military and manly. Not only had his condition not abated, but to Pamela's eyes it seemed to have become even more stiff. Walking elegantly beside her, Lady Bromley explained that Pamela need only receive a small lesson, but one sufficient to brighten her up, as she put it. Pamela coloured at the thought of this, little knowing how even more attractive it made her look.
To her further surprise, Lady Bromley held her comfortingly by the waist as they entered the summerhouse. It was a much larger and more comfortably furnished one than Mr. Rumple had. There was a carpet, a divan, a sideboard, cabinets-and a bed in one corner. Bed, it was explained to Pamela, was the best place to birch a young lady. It added a touch of comfort to the experience.
“Naturally, my dear Pamela, you will have to bare your bottom, as all young females must. Occasional struggling is to be ignored and-if necessary-put down. The twigs of the birch must be well soaked beforehand to prepare them for the swishing across the offered cheeks. Now, Pamela, you must kneel on the bed and prepare yourself. The Captain will do the honours. Have no fear; it will only be what we called a taster, but it will warm your bottom well. You may wriggle all you wish if you do not otherwise move.”
“Oh! but I may not be able to help it!”
Pamela would have dwelt longer on her protest, but nothing availed and she wished not to offend her Mistress or jeopardise her post by refusing. Somewhat reluctantly and fearing the kissing of the twigs, she placed herself at last on all fours and had her skirt thrown to her hips.
“By Jove, what a bottom, what legs!” the Captain exclaimed.
It was a perfect posture, for the high bed allowed both him and Belinda to see almost all the curves and secret crevices of Pamela's form, even to her slit.
“A perfect treasure, as I knew she would be. Permit me to kneel in front of her so that I may hold her shoulders for the first stroke.”
Arranging herself thus on the bed in turn, Belinda bore lightly down with her fingers, so causing Pamela's head and shoulders to sink down and her bottom to rise more. Enjoying the resulting vista more than Belinda, who
