first poked her, had manifested an affection for me, which at times I found rather awkward, as I did not wish to be found out in an intrigue with one of my own servant girls. But yet I did not like to snub her, for I always thoroughly enjoyed myself when I did poke her; moreover she allowed me to spank her; and she had a bottom that was well worth spanking; it was so broad, so fat and dimpled; yet withal it was firm, and I revelled in it; especially as she could take a spanking better than any woman I have ever come across.
I sometimes spanked her till my hand was sore, and her bottom was the colour of beetroot, and as hot as fire.
I occasionally gave a dinner party to the neighbouring squires and their families, and on those occasions, it always amused me to see “Frank” in correct evening dress, looking quite the “gentleman,” taking into dinner, with perfect composure, some young lady, or buxom matron.
“He” always got on well with the ladies, to whom “he” was most polite and attentive; but since she had grown up, she had become shy with women, and they, I think, considered “him” rather a duffer, as “he” did not smoke, or ride to hounds, or go in for athletic sports of any kind. It had always been a source of wonder to me that none of the servants had ever any suspicion as to “Frank’s” true sex; but it is a fact, that during the whole period of her stay at Oakhurst, she managed to keep her secret from every one but me.
The time passed on; and at the beginning of July, I found that I should have to go up to London for some days, on business connected with the estate. I had not been, away from home for a couple of months, and when “Frank” heard that I was going to town for a time, she became sad and dejected; and on the day of my departure, she hovered about me the whole time, and I could see that she could hardly keep back her tears.
She had never before shown so much emotion at my going away; so I thought I would chaff her a little, in a good-humoured way; but I could not get her to smile; and she said, sorrowfully: “I shall not know what to do with myself, without you.”
I laughed, saying: “Why, I have often been away before. You must amuse yourself as you have always done.” Then I shook hands with her, and drove off, leaving her standing on the terrace, in an altitude of dejection. The girl was very fond of me; of that I felt sure.
I was detained in London longer than I had expected; but I received a letter nearly every day from “Frank,” and I could see from the way she wrote, that she was pining for me, and longing for my return. I also wished to go back to her; I often thought of her, and I did not go near Maud, but lived in chambers close to my club.
At last the day came when I was able to leave London, and I felt quite glad to find myself in the train on my way to Winchester.
When I arrived at the station, my dog-cart was waiting for me and in a short time I reached Oakhurst, where I found “Frank” on the terrace, waiting to receive me. She welcomed me warmly, her face beaming, and her eyes glistening; but as we were under the observation of the servants, she had to suppress all outward show of emotion, but I saw that she was much moved.
As it was rather late, I proceeded at once to my room and changed my clothes, then I went down to the dining-room, and we took our seats at the table. During dinner,
“Frank” did not talk much; she appeared to be quietly happy, there was a soft light in her eyes, she did not bother me with questions, and she seemed perfectly content to sit and look at me. When dinner was over, and I had smoked a cigar, we went into the drawing-room. It was a beautiful evening; the sun had been set for some time, and it was beginning to get dark; the long windows were open, and a gentle breeze wafted into the room the sweet scent of the roses which grew in profusion in the garden. On a tree, not far off, a nightingale was just commencing to sing, giving forth every now and then a few mellow notes; all else was still. It was an ideal night for love-making.
I was sitting in a low easy-chair, and “Frank” was sitting on a stool beside me. We were both silent; the light faded, and the room grew darker. She put her hand on my arm, and nestling close up to me said: “Oh, I am so glad you are back! I have missed you dreadfully.”
There was such a loving tone in the girl’s voice that it made me think she was about to tell me her long concealed secret: so I put my arm round her waist in lover-like fashion, for the first time, and whispered in her ear: “Why did you miss me?”
I could feel her tremble as I pressed her waist; she made no answer, but she rested her head on my breast and heaved a long, tremulous sigh.
“Why do you sigh? What is the matter with you, Frank?” I said, emphasizing the name.
Still she kept silent The nightingale burst into full song, its liquid trills filling the air with melody; I pressed her closer to me, and bending over her, said coaxingly, “Tell me, Frank”
Then she suddenly threw her arms round my neck, murmuring in a voice choked with emotion: “Oh, don’t call me Frank! My name is Frances, I am a woman, and I love you! I love you!”
My heart bounded with a feeling of joy and gratification. The confession had come at last! My patience was rewarded!
I lifted her off the stool on to my lap, and folding her in my arms, I kissed her passionately, on her eyes, her forehead, her cheeks, and her warm mouth. It was too dark to see her face, but as my lips pressed her soft cheeks, I could feel that they were hot with blushes; and she lay like a little child in my arms, her bosom rising and falling quickly.
After a moment or two, I said: “I knew you were a girl, Frances!” She started, and uttering a little cry of intense astonishment, asked: “How long have you known it? How did you find it out?”
“I have known it for a long rime. I found it out by seeing something you accidentally showed me on the day I birched you so severely.”
“Oh! Good gracious!” she exclaimed in a horrified tone. I laughed, and stopped her mouth with a kiss, saying: “What does it matter when or how I found it out. You have said that you love me, and I love you.”
“Oh, do you really? I am so, to glad, I was afraid you would be angry with me. I have been wishing for a long rime, to tell you I was a girl, but I never had the courage to speak,” she said in a low voice, clinging close to me. Then, after a pause, she asked timidly: “Why did you not tell me that you had found out I was a girl?”
“Because it would have caused bother, and altered all my arrangements; besides I preferred to wait until you told me yourself. I felt sure you would tell me some day; and I am glad the day has come at last. You are now my sweetheart, you dear girl,” I said, kissing her.
“Oh! how patient and good you have been to me all these years; and how happy I feel at being your sweetheart,” she said, in a voice vibrating with emotion. Then she got off my lap, and sitting down on the stool, put her little hand on mine and pressed it warmly.
“Now,” I said, “tell me when you first began to love
“Oh, I began to love you the day you took me into your house, when I was homeless and friendless, and ever since that time, my love for you has been growing greater and greater.”
“Did you never feel angry with me when I whipped you?”
“No, never. Of course I did not like getting a whipping, as it was painful;-the rod was dreadful-but somehow or other, I seemed to love you more after you had given me a spanking.” Then, after a pause, she added rather bashfully: “And I will confess to you, that at one time, I used to be naughty on purpose that you might spank me; for I liked to lie across your knees, and feel your hand stroking my bare skin; although I dreaded the pain that was to follow; for you always made me smart a great deal.”
I laughed at this queer confession, but was pleased to hear it, for it showed that the girl had a rather voluptuous disposition. Then I said: “So it gave you pleasure to lie across my knees, and feel my hand stroking your bare skin? Well, I shall be delighted to let you have that pleasure now, if you like.”
She made no answer, but gave my hand a squeeze, which I took as a sign of assent; so I at once lifted her up, placed her in position, and took down her trousers; which I had not let down for upwards of six months.
It was too dark for me-to see her bottom, but nevertheless I had great sensual pleasure in passing my hand over the swelling hemispheres of plump, firm flesh, which I stroked, squeezed, and played with in all sorts of ways, for a minute or two.
“Did you like that, Frances?” I asked, when I had done paddling with her bottom. “Oh, yes!” she replied, still lying face downwards on my lap. “It was very nice. It gave me a most pleasant sensation.”
I smiled; and to give her another sensation, I put my hand under her belly, and gently touched, for the first time, her virgin cunt She started, and a tremor passed over her: then I took away my hand from the “spot,” as I did not wish to frighten her by going too fast I intended, however, to take her maidenhead that night-and I did not think
