in his eyes, though he had seen me well enough as a watcher in the summerhouse.
Stepping in front of and to one side of him, Bertha gave a tug on the leash and drew him forward so that his bare knees bumped the side of the bed and his balls swung. My stepmother stood with arms folded near the head of the bed and close to me.
“Up with you, Master Robert,” Bertha said.
I felt he must have been coached in this, for somewhat awkwardly-and not apparently being allowed to use his hands whereby to lever himself up-he got upon the bed on his knees so that one of his legs nudged mine, making me start.
“Open your legs more, Clara,” came from my stepmother.
I gulped and obeyed. Clearly I was making room for my brother who by various murmurings from Bertha and tugs on the chain was brought in closer to me, but not so much that our bodies touched. I in a half-reclining position found my eyes level with the bulbous crest of his cock and saw more clearly than ever how the faint blue veins stood out upon the noble column of flesh. Bertha then moved behind me and at such a distance that the leash was taut, so preventing him, as I divined, from jerking forward.
“Now, my love, you are about to see in a matter of minutes how the male is pleasured, how brief that pleasure appears to the females-though I may say that I believe it to be intense-and how he is enfeebled afterwards. Robert-you will not move now, sir, or I shall have your buttocks made redhot.”
My lips were parted, my own face suffused. I knew not where to look yet ever felt my gaze drawn to the wondrous weapon he displayed. It was then already some good eight inches long and of fair girth. His balls were heavy and reminded me of ducks’ eggs, though hairy. As our stepmother’s hand approached his tool, his teeth gritted and he stared straight out above my head. A snorting sound came from his nostrils in the moment that her beringed fingers enfolded it, the tips running gently up and down the swollen shaft before she took hold of it more purposefully.
“This, Clara, is called ‘milking,’” she said to me quietly and then began to frot him, luring her ringed fingers up and down his prick so that his breath panted and flowed out in longing moans. “One may take one’s time about it, Clara. You will learn in due course how to modulate the movements of your hand, whether to bring the male on quickly and to make him gush or to quell his sense of urgency, for if the cock is held tightly-so! — then he cannot come in any event.”
“Gaaar-ah!” my brother choked and his head hung back.
“Be quiet!” she scolded him and now, cupping his balls with her free hand, tickled them beneath with her little finger, causing his hips to rock.
I swallowed and my eyes grew bleared. The most itching and tingling of sensations made itself felt in my cunny so that I longed to toy with myself but had not the daring to do so in front of him. I confess that I let my thighs sag even wider so that my cuntlips veritably pouted at him and so no doubt increased his mad desires. Certainly he panted more and his mouth gaped the while that her luring hand worked steadily.
“There will come a time, Clara,” said she-while all the while Bertha stood silent in the background-“when I shall modulate his explosions of sperm the more. He will learn to come only on a certain count-which is to say perhaps fifty strokes of my hand, or the same number when embedded in a quim or bottom. Should he, or of course any other male in training, give way to his lewd excitement and eject his sperm prematurely, then punishment will follow and he will receive no pleasuring during a disciplinary period. For the moment, however, since Robert has not been milked before, I propose to give him a certain leeway.”
“Neee-ynnnng!” Robert gritted. He was plainly near his tether for our stepmother’s hand was warm and comforting and, being soft as velvet, must have teased him beyond endurance. The poor soul, he did not try to disgrace himself, but having for the first time his younger sister so lewdly displaying herself to him the while and the lips of her pretty cunny to his view, he could not help himself. The breath literally whistled through his nostrils and her finger, I swear, tickled his balls the more.
“Oh, you bad boy-you naughty boy,” she breathed, which words as I learned are manna to the yearning male, whether he be fifteen or fifty, for they deem them both encouraging and exciting while yet obtaining overtones of admonishment. Our stepmother now was watching his face. She knew the signs.
“I c… c… can’t help! Oh, Mama!” he whined.
“Come then-come-spill your juice. Let us see how fiercely it spurts,” she commanded and to his profound dismay, no doubt, loosed her hold on him around his prick while still couching his balls on her palm.
I had of course never seen the male sperm erupt before. Perhaps by instinct I slumped down a little, thus inadvertently showing as much of my bottom to him as my slit. Desire must have raged in him for then with a croaking cry a veritable jet of white creamy liquid shot out and up in an arc that seemed to poise like a seagull in mid-air before it splashed down on my belly and my bush. So warm and lovely did it feel that I was entranced and, being just as quickly followed by another and another, so that the stream seemed endless, I felt myself inundated and all of a sticky swimming while Robert juddered, his hips jerking violently.
“More, you young brute, more,” our stepmother intoned.
“HAAAR!” shuddered he. The jets were weaker now in their erupting. I could see them clearly bubbling out of the tiny hole in the knob of his cock. His thighs quivered violently and his jaw sagged the more. The bulb glistened deliciously with his spendings, and all the while our stepmother firmly cupping his balls while Bertha continued holding the leash taut to keep his head up. Then at last he was done and the last dribblings fell and spattered on to the bed. A long shuddering sigh came from him and his expression softened, his body slumping as much as the leash would allow.
All was then still and quiet.
“Very well, take him out, Bertha,” our stepmother ordered. Limp as a reed he was drawn off the bed by a tugging of the leather strap. He looked cowed and yet his face appeared angelic, perfectly unlined and smooth.
“They are best when young,” my stepmother observed, “yet the older men are equally amusing in their ways and can be known to ream a girl more vigourously. I prefer my beginners to be put to older men. Ah, what a froth you have from him upon your bush! It will be a full half hour at least before his young cock can be urged up stiff again. A man twenty years his senior may take even longer, yet no woman is exhausted in any wise by having a single fuck and, as I told you, can have several in a row, enjoying the last as much as the first and mayhaps more so. You had best bathe now, dear.”
“Yes, Mama,” I assented, though I so rarely called her that.
As ever, she turned away as if the entire matter had passed already from her mind and I knew that I was simply to imbibe what I had seen. Casting off my dress in my room and feeling a pleasant stickiness all between my legs, I put on a robe and went along to the bathroom-which is to say the one that I and Sarah used, for Stepmama now had her own, and a third and smaller one was for Papa’s use. Finding the door locked, I shook the handle impatiently.
“Who? Who is it?” came Sarah’s call. Her voice sounded nervous. When I answered, there was a splashing sound, a noise of grumbling, and then the door was partly opened and she stood holding a towel about her.
“Oh, is the water warm still? Have you finished?” I asked.
“Yes, but only just,” she replied crossly and blushed. Not speaking, I cast off my robe and then my chemise and stood naked. The water was perfumed and inviting. Only recently then had we had water to come through taps in the bathrooms and it was a perfect joy, though made much heat and work for the servants in keeping the stove going to heat the water. Being cautious of her mood I got in and laved myself, sinking back with quite a smile upon my lips, for I knew more than she and indeed had learned more.
“Clara, what is to do?” she asked nervously.
“Why, you were very naughty and so was I. Mama was not displeased with us really,” I replied simply.
“She is not our Mama-not our true Mama,” Sarah said crossly and let the towel fall and began to brush her hair. Standing upright as she was her bottom protruded delightfully and I thought of how I had had my tongue there and teased her up while she wriggled. I did not doubt that she had enjoyed it and chided her inwardly for being a hypocrite. Besides, she had been tongued as well and could not now pretend that she had struggled overmuch against the insistent protrusion of our stepmother’s tongue.
“Did you not like it?” I asked and soaped myself all over.
“No, of course I didn’t, it was horrid. I did not know before that people did such things. If she whips me again I shall tell Papa.”
“Will you not blush to tell him all?” I asked slyly whereat she spun around and scowled at me, though looking
