'Now he's ready for the birch,' she said, with a chuckle, as she finished pinning up the tail of his shirt, and pulled the breeches quite down to the culprit's knees.
'Yes, I think it's my turn now, Simpson,' said Mr. Watson, who had taken a heavy bunch of birch from a cupboard, 'you will soon be sorry for your laziness and impudence, I feel quite kindly towards him now, Mrs. Jones, it's really wonderful how my feelings are soothed as soon as I take the swishtail in hand.'
His face was quite changed from the angry look it had a minute or two before, as he took up his position behind the culprit, who had been strictly mute so far.
No more time was lost, Mr. Watson's soul was very evidently in his work — swish — crash — swish — crash — swish — crash — that is what the blows sounded like to me, as he gave a sweeping flourish through the air at each stroke. The third blow elicited a subdued wincing cry from the lad.
'That's it, why don't you give it mouth, Simpson, as you did when you abused me and Mrs.
Jones?' he exclaimed. 'Does it cut you a little, my boy? Will you abuse us again, eh?'
This last was followed by a tremendous crasher, which drew little drops of blood from the wealed flesh, then blow followed blow, soon making the drops into little rills which fairly trickled over his buttocks and down his thighs, whilst poor Simpson's cries were awful to hear, mixed as they were with the swishing and crashing of the rod. How the poor fellow did beg for mercy, but all to no avail, the master was relentless, and cut away as if it was nothing much, jeering and lecturing the boy all the while.
Now my eyes fairly started, for there was young Simpson's affair sticking out rampant and redheaded in front of him, in fact I seemed to fancy that the boy purposely rubbed himself against the wall as every cut of the birch drove him forward, his cries ceased, and I could not make it out, but just then Mrs. Jones coming behind the master, put her arms round to his front, and unbuttoning Mr. Watson's breeches, exposed to my full view an enormous affair, nine or ten inches long, which she played with in her hands, passing them rapidly up and down the long white shaft, uncovering at every motion the ruby head of what looked quite a monster to me then, all the while agitating and rubbing her belly against his back as she did so.
It only lasted for about a couple of minutes, then I saw quite a jet of thick whitish stuff spurt from him right on to the boy's raw bottom, who evidently was unconscious of what was going on behind him, After this she buttoned him up again, and then Simpson was let down and cautioned as to his future conduct, and what he would get next time, then ordered to be 08 to his work, and sent away through the further door, which I have mentioned.
Of course I thought it was all over, and should have slipped away from my point of observation, had not Mr. Watson seized Mrs. Jones round the waist and borne her to a couch, kissing her, and putting his hands under her clothes till I got a glimpse of a splendid naked thigh.
'Was it nice, Dick? Did I give you pleasure, dear?' I heard her murmur.
'Heavenly, delightful, my love! And now it's my turn to repay you, open your lovely thighs and let me see what you know I love to kiss so!' he replied, pulling her willing legs apart, and regularly burying his face in what I then thought was a very dirty place.
She closed her eyes, and lay back almost as if in a faint, but one hand was pressing his head to keep him as it were to his work, whilst the other with clenched fist hung down by her side.
'Ah — r — r — re, Oh, oh. Lovely — delightful. Go on you darling. There — there — just on the little spot. Ah — r — r — re, I'm going to come. Oh — oh,' I could hear her say in gasping accents, and then saw her stiffen herself out in a listless state.
He kissed or sucked on eagerly for a moment or two, then jumping up, knelt on the bench between her legs, his great thing sticking out in front of his belly from a profusion of dark hair, which adorned that part of his person. He opened Mrs. Jones' thighs till I could quite see her love gap with pouting vermillion lips glistening with moisture, then to my astonishment he directed the head of his big engine, and opening those lips with one hand actually shoved the whole length of the tremendous thing up into her belly, till it was buried out of sight.
This seemed to wake up the matron, for suddenly throwing her arms round Mr. Watson, she heaved up her bottom to meet his thrusts, which he for his part was quite ready to respond to, kissing her face and lips ardently all the while, till after a few minutes both of them seemed as it were, to melt away, and lay listless in each other's arms.
Now was my time to slip away, which I did, but what an impression that scene had upon me, it thrilled my whole soul, and circulated a fire through every vein of my body, which increased so violently as almost to prevent respiration.
I was now only too well disposed, young as I still was to enter into any rude game that might offer with my own or the opposite sex.
I had a little bed-fellow, Sarah Marsh, about my own age, her I admitted to my confidence, and we resolved the very first chance to have a game ourselves with one of the boys.
It so happened that in a day of two was the annual treat, and we all went to the park attached to the hall to spend the day.
The village squire was a liberal man, the grown-up paupers, both old and young, were regaled to their hearts content, whilst the children ran about at pleasure in the grounds or a large wooded dell in the dark. Sarah and myself selected a pretty boy of about twelve for our sweetheart, and told Johnny Stones (that was his name), that we had something so nice to let him into.
Soon finding ourselves in a place quite free from observation, we told him the story about Mr. Watson and Mrs. Jones, and asked him to try and do the same for us; he was seated on the grass eating a cake so we soon had his little pintle out, it stood almost directly, and he tried to get into first one and then the other of us, but it hurt so much we had to give it up, and contented ourselves by sucking and kissing each other's affairs, which we thought very nice.
' Suddenly, 'Haw, haw — ha, ha — here's a go,' startled us from our game.
'Don't be frightened dears,' said a kind voice. 'I'll give you a shilling each to let me play with you.'
It was Squire Benson himself, and the sight of the bright silver soon made us at our ease, and we promised never to tell a word.
He made us unbutton and get out his affair, but what a contrast to the workhouse master's grand instrument, Mr. Benson's was a little thing only a trifle 6ve inches in length, but he was delighted to have us handle and kiss it, then laughing when we told him all about Mr. Watson and the matron, and how we had failed in our endeavours to get Johnny's thing into us, he told us he could tell a much better way which would do no harm, as the front way made babies; then he made me kneel all fours on the grass, and took Johnny's pintle into his mouth, wetting it first with his saliva before he made him shove at my bottom-hole, it soon slipped in, and my boy kneeling behind me with his arms round my belly, worked away in the vent-hole, and gave me exquisite pleasure; meanwhile the Squire telling my partner not to mind a slight pinch, soon planted his own affair in Johnny's bum, whilst he made Sarah tickle and play with him, and put her finger up his own bottom.
We kept at this game for a long time, till it was beginning to get almost dusk, I did not feel anything myself, except an exquisite titillation of the anus, but Johnny told me he felt the Squire quite plainly as he twice emitted into him, and that it was lovely and warm.
Our sweetheart was sent to a situation soon after this, and Sarah and myself remaining constant friends we kept our secret to ourselves, and varied our amusement as much as possible, using Angers or tongues as the fancy took us, still we were very careful, for fear of being found out, and did not run into any very great excesses.
Soon after I was twelve years old they put me out to be nursemaid in the family of Farmer Royston. He was the grandest man of the village after the squire and the rector, having a large farm and a 6ne water mill as well.
Mr. Royston was a widower, who had recently lost his wife, who left him with a rather large family of all ages, from sixteen to two years old, the household being now presided over by a Miss Mabel Wilberforce, in the double capacity of housekeeper and governess.
Master Charlie, the eldest, went to school, and only came home for the holidays, as also did the Misses Gertrude and Lily, who were fourteen and thirteen respectively, besides these there were Ave younger ones with whom I had more specially to do under the supervision of Miss Wilberforce; the farmer was a jolly fine man, not yet forty I should say, and had such a way of talking to or looking at the girls, that anyone could not be slow to see, that he had a considerable amount of human nature about him.
I ' slept in the nursery with the children, Mr.
