I did not doubt them for a moment-or at least that they might try, and show me thus as a shorn lamb, disgustingly, beyond all one's experience. Thereat Jane threw the door of my study open and called for Sylvia, albeit softly. Panic then was upon me like a net. I drew her back and slammed the door.
'Go out and I will do it', I declared. But no-we want to see you put them on, was said. I turned my back on them to do that shameful deed. The drawers are softer and more clinging than my normal, proper underwear.
'How sweet you look!', said Muriel and halted me from putting back my trousers on until I was 'inspected' by the pair and made to draw the knickers tightly up until my manhood formed a lump that was visible through the fine batiste. I begged them for the thousandth time to let me be. Muriel looked serious at that and told me to draw my trousers up. I am to be inspected day and night to ensure that I am wearing the ridiculous attire.
'You know the penalty', said Muriel.
I cannot bring myself to feel that I am any longer the possessor of my soul. I feel the drawers all day around my person. They produce the most peculiar sensation I have ever known. My testicles are constantly caressed by the material which has the same effect upon my other private parts. Dear Heavens, dare I write to Deirdre and beg her to return? I fear that if I do-and much I wish to now- I might be scorned by her as well. How desperately I have wandered from the true path that I set myself in life!
Muriel's Day-Book
A delightful ride with Roger. Truly, he has merit and does not rush his hedges nor such skirts as come to his attention. Upon his suggestion, we met discreetly at a halfway point and then circled around his private wood where we would not be disturbed, said he, for he had sent his foresters away.
We settled ourselves, after a fine, refreshing gallop, in a clearing where the sun had enabled a small sward to grow. Delightfully springy it was too, being compounded of both moss and grass, and I asking him if he wished to discuss the condition of the Nation, or philosophy.
'The philosophy of affections', he replied and-we lying down-he cradled my head romantically on his arm and sought with gentlemanly caution underneath my skirt to an inch or two above my knees, I not disturbing his hand in its search.
Roger is a fine bookman seemingly and discoursed to me, while pecking lightly on my lips, of much that he has read of love's fine doings, even quoting passages therefrom that stirred me deeply while his fingers made a tour around my garters, felt my thighs above-not hastening but in a teasing way such as one rarely comes across with urgent males who are too quick to put the poker in. Thus did he speak to me of one Brantome who wrote the 'Secret Lives of Ladies', so he said, and had much to plainly speak upon the things the long-gone ones had done, such as ladies 'frotting' quims to quims that were as frothy as with soap.
'I would not know of such', I smiled, but tipped my tongue between his lips to show him that I merely teased. There were gallants-so he told me Brantome wrote, who fucked their ladies two by two, sometimes a wife and mistress in the self-same bed, and gentlemen who 'trod' their daughters first, before they wed.-'Oho! That is a gentlemanly thing to do?', I asked.
'I would not know of such', was his response in taunting echo of my own.
By then his hand reached my slit which he toyed with gently, seeking out my spot and bringing it to tingle to his touch so enervatingly that I squirmed and begged him with my eyes to do the deed. I must have received there many a fine prick, said he. He clearly sought me to respond with more impassioned words, but I would not. A woman knows a man the best when he does all the speaking at the first. As to himself, I asked, how many cunnies had he breached?
'Of late? A score or two'. He smiled and pretended a soft yawn upon my open mouth forcing my legs apart just as I wished him to, for such a move excites me much, reminds me of days past, my naughtiness.
'Tut-tut, you have not been over-busy then', I riposted whereat we exchanged tongues more. I drew my knees up. He uncovered me and tucked my gown around my waist, leaving my bottom naked on the sward.
'I shall be busier with you. Perhaps also with Jane, and…'
'Sylvia?' At last his penis had sprung out. I fondled its firm girth, soothed up and down the vibrant rod. Her name excited him the more. Even as I uttered it he got between my open legs and rubbed his crest against my furry mount.
'Has she been trodden yet?', he asked.
'Not yet. Has Daisy? What sweet legs, she has, what lovely tits. Have you not even brought her nipples up? Oh, Roger-put it in me now!'
'Wait, woman, wait', he answered me. I adore such mastery. All women do who are not dead to adoration of one's form. His bulbous knob had found the entrance to my honeypot. It parted the rolled lips and slipped within, then stayed itself most maddeningly despite my wrigglings. Both my wrists were gripped and held above my head, he arched upon me; self-possessed, all his supposed vagueness had gone. I knew it for a trick of his. Women can sometimes be so, too, when in the lure of some desire that they are minded not yet to express.
'Fuck me and you may have us both', I said.
“Both you and Jane-and Sylvia, also?' His prick moved in another inch. I squeezed upon it rapturously. No one had fucked me thus before. I knew the stimulating thrill of it. His voice was husky and dark as was my own.
'I want your cock more, Roger. No-not Sylvia. But Daisy, yes. How sweet to hear her whimper under you, but you must promise that you do it to her… OOOH!'
My words had such effect that he was in me to his balls in one long stroke, holding my wrists still, crushing me, and thus he pinned me, cheek to cheek, both of us breathing heavily.
'Stir your legs more, woman. Lift them up!'
“Won't-won't', I said like a young girl, and turned my face more into the soft sward as if I would deny him then my lips. His tongue entered my ear. I closed my eyes. I murmured it was naughty, wicked, bad. His prick stirred in me slowly, throbbing well. I held it clenched within my spongy grasp. What lovely little liquid sounds came as he moved! I hissed my breath in, stirred my bottom just a trifle then, but-as if regretful-let it plump again upon the grass and wore a dull, rebellious air.
At that, he clasped me firmly around the waist and rolled right over upon his back, carrying me with him with his prick still deeply sheathed so that it was I who straddled him. And thereupon he smacked my bottom hard and gasped, 'Now buck your bottom, woman, and get on with it!'
'Yoo-ow! You beast!', I laughed. I slewed my hips up, down, and rode him well, sitting up straight and jogging as I did. The deepest penetration is secured that way, I think. I felt completely pierced, absorbed, fulfilled. I spurted, spattered love-juice on his pubic hairs, eyes rolling and my hair all wild. My moans betrayed me, for then he rolled right over once again and pinned me again beneath his virile form.
'Keep your legs open-wider-wide!', he gasped and mashed his lips most passionately to mine.
'Come in me-come!', I choked. The grass tickled underneath my bottom and the world was all a-heave.
“Wait, woman, wait', he groaned and stirred his throbbing pestle more. I had never felt myself so conquered since I was Sylvia's age, and loved each second of his savage thrusts, his mouth all over mine, his hands holding apart my bottom cheeks.
'Yes, sir, but do it, sir, please do', I whimpered like a girl again, for I felt that such play-acting pleased him so long as he remained the master of my hot, orgasmic fate.
It did indeed. 'You are a naughty little girl', he mouthed, but still he would not-as it were-obey commands, and threshed me more before he came and shot his huge, warm jets within my clenching maw until both of us lay quivering in the gruelly pools of our delight.
His body crushed my own. With any other man I would have murmured, 'Get off, do!', but with Roger I remained quiescent, breathing softly till he drew his steaming penis out and knelt to button up his trouser front.
'You may rise now', he said to my feint astonishment, for though it was said gallantly, there was a strain of strong command in it. He sat to one side, back against a tree, and lit a cigar the while that I repaired myself. Then, having done so, I was ordered to sit down with him, his arm around my shoulders placed.
It was then that he commenced a discourse that I listened to with awe, for so many things he said about me were correct. I was the leader of a pack, he said, and Jane could well be my accomplice.
'At the moment, I suspect, you have young Sylvia in thrall. What of Mansfield himself? How does this come to be?'
I snuggled more into his arms and felt myself-as I so often have with men-superior.
