“You think of his cock, though,” I murmured to her lips.
“I doh-on’t!” she trembled, making her mouth quiver deliciously to mine, but her voice betrayed her. The tips of our tongues touched, making me quite spoony with her.
“You do not get enough of your husband’s, hence you think of others. What is there in that?” came my stepmother’s voice while of deliberation she held the young woman’s thighs apart, admiring them as much as I, as Jennifer could see. Perhaps indeed that tiny point weakened her.
“I do… I do think of his cock, but I do not like him. Oh!” she exclaimed at her own temerity and covered up her face. I drew her hands away and rubbed her nose to mine playfully which I believe softened her the more.
“You do not betray yourself by so speaking, my sweet,” purred my stepmother, caressing Jennifer’s thighs as she spoke. “We are your accomplices and not your enemies. Dear Millicent’s actions are in trust to us, as yours shall be.”
“Mine? Oh, but I could never…!”
“Shush, child, for you are almost one at heart and yet withal a proud young woman. You will not be brought to him, but he to you, as Clive was brought to his Mama.”
“I do not wish to think of that! How could it be?”
“You will think of it, Jennifer. What help have you now save to do so? There is nothing so lewd in such motions as you believe. The male is brought to the female for her satisfaction. Once given, then he is removed, or put to further service as you wish. Your pleasures have been limited until now, though need not be.”
Jennifer twisted her fingers, turned her rings around and knew not where to look. A silence obtained. We waited for her to speak.
“If, if… if I gave in to him once-oh! I know how it would be!”
“Foolish girl, have you not imbibed each word I spoke? His prick is all you seek, and briefly perhaps, for there will be others when you find your way and learn to conquer and not to submit.”
Jennifer gazed at her nervously, though there was also a tinge of curiousity in her look, “You will not always be here,” she mumbled.
“Nor shall I have need to be, for once quelled and mastered he will remain so. How proud and cold you can look when you wish it! Why, you are halfway there to your own salvation.”
“It is true, Jennifer.” I soothed her arm. She could not mistake the meaning in my eyes. I tugged at her sleeve. A thought had struck me, and proud I was that it had perhaps escaped my stepmother. “Come-come to the room you have with Clive,” said I. She hesitated for a long moment and then uncoiled her legs. Her drawers lay on the floor and she would have picked them up had I not drawn her with me.
“What is to do?” she asked.
“You will see,” I replied. Her uncertainty as to our truthfulness was melting rapidly. I uttered, however, a little prayer as we ascended with my stepmama in train for I relied on old habits. Not mine, but those of Millicent. Fate proved me right. Reaching my hand beneath the pillows in the bedroom where Clive had been sent to wait, I drew out triumphantly the underclothes he had worn.
“They are not mine!” declared Jennifer and sought her nightdress quickly as if to assure herself against some trick.
“No, my dear, they are Clive’s now-his uniform of petulance, submission and sin. Show her the drawers, Clara!”
I had forgotten that small touch and opened them. The stains of sperm lay dry for her to see. Her eyes opened and her hand went to her mouth. “Oh then, it is true!” she gasped.
“What else but truth have we purveyed to you?” my stepmother responded. “Yet do not think of revenge in sheathing his father’s prick in your cunny. There is no revenge. It shall be on his part an act of equal submission to the power of Woman.”
“Oh no! I cannot, I cannot!”
My stepmother sighed and made her sit upon the bed. For a full moment she gazed at her soulfully and then turned to me. Her lips formed words that I well could read: “Fetch the cane!”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Most wickedly, no doubt, the thought of caning the adorable Jennifer thrilled me to the core. I, who have trained many a young lady since, knew this to be a prime occasion. A cane lay in my stepmother’s luggage. She was ever ready for all occasions. Taking it out, I fondled it lovingly and envisaged the proud bottom that was soon to receive it.
Pray do not think, however, that there was viciousness in my thoughts. I have never wielded the cane cruelly nor would ever do so. It urges, it impels, it conquers the proudest. When I re-entered the bedroom my stepmother had already rolled Jennifer over in the guise of “tidying” her underskirt beneath. Thus she was bared and, being in that frame of mind that young women are when they know not which road to take, permitted the fondest of kisses to fall on her sumptuous orb, deep cleft as it was and smooth as ivory.
She made to stir as I entered and would have glimpsed the cane before it seared her had not my stepmother deftly clambered on her back and held her down. A shriek rose: “What are you doing?”
“Oh, Jennifer how lovely you look,” I murmured, not sarcastically but with all sincerity, for such girls do when well put up to it. Her garters had been adjusted, her stockings made taut. The moist fur of her cleft showed well beneath her globe. I raised the cane and knew she sensed a danger.
“No! What are you at?” she cried and tried to heave.
SWEEE-ISSSH! The cane seared across her peach and brought a shrill cry from her of the uttermost dismay, leaving a thin pink line in its fiery wake.
“You will LEARN, Jennifer,” my stepmother murmured and with her knees full clamped against the young woman’s sides, held her firmly down. HOOOO-ITTTT! Ah, what a song the cane makes in the air! The tip was thin and caught her in its passing, bringing from her throat a horrified screech.
“STO-HO-OPPP IT!” she cried and then “Oh NO!” as again I swished it in. Her hips jerked violently, her bottom screwing all about and showing flares of red upon the creamy skin.
“You will take his prick tonight, my love, you will learn. Whose cock shall she then take, Clara?”
“Her Papa’s. I mean, her Papa-in-law’s,” I corrected myself quickly and awkwardly and covered up my foolishness in giving her another which brought a high-pitched scream from her.
“More slowly, Clara,” my stepmother admonished me, and I knew my impetuousness. There is a rhythm to the matter, as I have long since learned. Each stroke must be measured and absorbed.
“Why are you do-doing this? I can’t bear it! OH!”
“You will learn to obey your superiors in wisdom just as the males will learn to obey us all. Shall you take his cock tonight?”
“No! Yeeeee-eeeech-ow!”
I had accorded her another, sweeping it now up beneath her bulge and bringing her to strain her lovely legs. In utter anguish she shook her hips, my stepmother bouncing gently on her shoulders as she faced me. Upon Jennifer’s superb bottom was now a pink criss-cross of stripes.
“You will take his cock tonight, Jennifer.” My stepmother’s tone was implacable.
“I won’t, I won’t, I can’t I-Neeee-ynnnng! Ah, stop it, do! Mama!”
Thus do they all cry out, but it avails them nothing. I have known Mamas to listen and smile, knowing their pets to be receiving only what they themselves once needed to endure before the fleshy peg rammed in between their cheeks and brought them to a bubbling bliss.
“Doo-wah, Doo-wah! Dooo-wah!” I heard Jennifer sobbing incoherently, her bottom now aflame. One must be merciless. One judges well. Her cheeks perhaps had not yet been cleaved, but soon must be. Her cunny had not bubbled often enough on a prick. The waste of it was sad. She would make a superb mount as Clarissa had done, though I knew little enough of her developments save what my stepmother had told me and that she ruled the household now.
I raised the cane again, though loathe to stripe her hard. My stepmother motioned me. I let it sink.
“Give her a moment,” she murmured, “for I wish her every act to be voluntary. Do you hear me,
