His posture was, for him, awkward in the extreme, for I had by then pressed one knee into the back of his own and so kept him at balance and quite unable to resist Claudia's determined attentions. I doubt that three- quarters of a minute passed before he yielded his manhood and sprang some fine jets of come into the bottle where they formed a greyish pool. At that moment, of course, Richard was at his weakest and I had little difficulty in manacling his wrists behind him.
It was Claudia who held his hair in this brief process while maintaining the bottle well over his cock, though by then it had expelled its last spurts.
Stricken cries came from him upon our then forcing him down on his back on the bed where his legs hung limp over the sides and the flask tilted at an angle to his slowly diminishing cock.
'Mama!', he bleated wildly, to our mutual amusement.
'Your dear Mama would never wish to see such a dismal sight', said I, 'And heaven forfend that she ever should'. Then, turning to Claudia, I added for his benefit, 'His penis clearly needs exercising regularly. He must do better than this. What a feeble performance! Pray, dear, will you see to him upon the hour, each hour?'
'It will be my distinct pleasure. The rapscallion must surely have more in his balls than this or he will be no use to any of us. Why, I have a deerhound that can produce more!', Claudia jeered while Richard paled and flushed by turns and looked exactly like a maiden whose drawers have been taken down for the first time and, under inspection, knows not where to look.
'An hour then. I will leave him in your hands. He may be fed bread and milk, but nothing else. See to it that you perform better next time!', I told Richard sharply. 'Have him attend to toilet duties as well', I added in an equally severe tone to Claudia whose gaze was as unblinking as my own.
To that purpose I shall put a collar and lead on him and have him crawl to the water-closet behind me', she said, and gave him a little kick on his ankles as though to emphasize the point, and this bringing a croaking plea from Richard to be 'allowed to go home'.
'You will be allowed only that which we desire', was my response and thereupon-having pointedly consulted a small clock on the cabinet-we left him to such a maze of thoughts as he must have found himself lost within: a captive in the house of strange, voluptuous females!
Four times today has he been milked of his sperm. Seemingly he could do no better than that and will sleep- still manacled-in an utterly weakened state. This, however, is but a beginning for Master Richard. I have always adhered to the view that a young male may become as much of a plaything for older females that a maiden sometimes does for her male elders. Maurice treads quietly past the door behind which I have Richard incarcerated and does not wish to see him. It is a little private business of my own, says he, and quite rightly. I allowed him to fete Claudia in bed tonight. She is always so sensuously wriggly between the pair of us.
As to Amy, Maurice has told me all. He is minded that I should take her in hand and prepare her for the sacrifice. I think not. I have Richard to attend to, not to say Deirdre. My hands are full in the most pleasant of ways. It would do well for Amy to be in the solemn presence of gentlemen only-a treat she will otherwise never have. I must say that Maurice looked rather pleased that I 'permit' that! Besides, it means that we need not have Amy here, for the time being at least, and this will avoid complications with Deirdre.
I may drop a hint to Deirdre that Amy must not be entirely neglected and, indeed, would be well to be 'diverted' in respect of naughty Richard's behaviour. Putting this to her as I shall, I believe she will allow herself to be convinced and may well be secretly comforted to have the otherwise difficult matter taken out of her hands.
We shall see!
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Phillip's Day-Book
I am surrounded by that darkness into which I have allowed myself to be led. Dear Sylvia is to spend some time with her friend Daisy, for which I am grateful. Her eyes question me frequently, and I have naught to say that could be of comfort to her. The dread I have that she may discover my undoing causes me to relinquish myself more and more into the hands of Muriel and Jane.
A moment of extreme discomfort in every sense came upon me last evening when Sylvia ventured into my study to bid me good night Her aunts had told her, she said, that my novel was progressing. The dear child appeared to have nothing else to say, and I did not doubt that my sisters had put her up to that remark. My desk being covered with paper on which I have endeavoured-though with little success-to ameliorate the wicked desires of Muriel and Jane, Sylvia perched herself lovingly on my lap and made attempt to peer at them, as if to express an interest in my work which she would not otherwise have.
Being unprepared for such, I made haste to cover them, which much put her out, and I endeavouring to explain that nothing was sufficiently good to be read yet.
“Well, Papa, they say you are a good writer, anyway', Sylvia said proudly, not having-to my relief-the forwardness to turn the papers over again to her view, though she looked a mite disappointed at my apparent secrecy. I was therefore put to the ludicrous exercise of explaining that I wanted her to read only the best I had written. This appeared to please her, for it gave upon her the role of a severe critic. What a ludicrous and shaming state of affairs! Moreover, she wriggled in her girlish way upon my lap all the time we were speaking, and in a manner that caused me some physical alarm. Her attire beneath her dresses is nowadays minimal and hence the warmth and roundness of her bottom exudes through the material.
At the same time I could not bring myself to push her off my lap, which brought me into severe physical embarrassment which I was afraid she could not fail to notice under her derriere. Nor could I retract my person from under her in the undue state of arousal to which I was in all innocence on her part being put.
It was then that Muriel intruded, telling Sylvia that she must hasten to bed and get her 'beauty sleep', as the foolish saying is. One last moist kiss from Sylvia's lips fell upon my own and then she scrambled off my lap, causing me to 'prong' visibly against her rising bottom cheeks. I flushed heavily, but fortunately she did not turn. Scarce had the door closed upon her, than Muriel cast her eyes down pointedly at my hapless state and declared her 'pleasure' that I 'have such a stiff attitude towards females'.
I replied not. I gritted my teeth and would have crossed my legs had my projection not been too painful for the task. I was then ordered to 'display' to her which I did, though in fear of Sylvia returning and seeing my near- bursting weapon. (I writhe to think that I shall be 'congratulated' by one or the other of my sisters on writing this).
My stiff cock was then handled gently and in the most fearfully exciting way. There are times-too many now- when one is forced beyond the barriers of pride and shame. Muriel leaned over my chair, her hand clasping my penis and rubbing up and down.
'Shall you come at a venture?', she laughed, thinking that a fine literary pun.
I shook my head. My cheeks were suffused. I knew veil enough that in such moments now I am utterly weak in her hands. My hips began to jerk despite myself.
Poor, dear Sylvia-being made to sit upon his naughty big thing, I was told.
'No!', I choked.
Thereat she laughed her cruel laugh and, taking a ambric handkerchief from the neck of her dress, wrapped id tied it tightly about my quivering erection.
'No? Very well, I shall leave it in this state, and I shall return in half an hour to make sure you have not messed into it', came her reply. She then swept out, leaving me bereft and with my testicles swollen with desire. Even as she closed the door I heard her calling down, 'Jane, there is something I wish to tell you'.
I had no need to try to guess what that might be. My name and dear Sylvia's would be used in the most untrue fashion. It was then, alas, that-my balls compressed on the chair and my prick having reached such a point of imminent effusion that it would not control itself-I spouted thickly into the enfolding handkerchief. The seat of my chair juddered beneath me, so violent was the spermatic explosion. Come dribbled back down my penis. Waves of exquisite pleasure were followed by a surging weakness amid which I knew to my horror that punishment was about to fell on me when Muriel returned. She would-and did-exult in my 'weakness' and 'the proof of her words'. I am a libertine who must be kept under control-so she and Jane proclaim, even though they know the truth of the
