force lifted it so that it poised three inches off the bed, her feet scrabbling to take purchase on the floor, but all in vain. She was deliriously elevated, ready for our fingers and our tongues, her vain cries pealing through the air. 'Emily, twist on your back and put your mouth up to her quim', said Jane-a throaty thrumming of excitement in her voice. I could scarce see how I could, for my back would be precariously supported on the bed's edge, but by digging my heels into the carpet and with Jane a-straddling me and gripping my slim waist between her legs, I managed the quaintly acrobatic act and lay face up beneath the girl's furred quim while my sister bent and thumbed her bottom cheeks apart to run her tongue around her puckered rose. 'THOO-AH!', moaned Catherine while Arnold gripped the nape of her neck and pressed her face into the quilt, I in that moment sleeking up my tongue and finding that small bud at the upper meeting of her lovelips which extols desire from even the most frigid of females, given she is firmly held. 'Mmmm…', came from Jane who evidently had snaked her tongue into the girl's warm bottomhole.
'MA-MA! MA-MA!', moaned Catherine in smothered tones. In her up-slung position her tummy was supported both by my up-reaching hands and by Arnold's arms, and from the wild movements of her fine, long legs, I knew her feet to be raised from off the floor. -'No, no, no, no!', whined Catherine, but her cunny by then was moistening well. The sleek folds of her cunny parted to my tongue. I sought within and found the silken walls and heard her whimpering as Jane, too, titillated her. 'Do not let her come, my pets. My prick will do that', I heard Arnold say. 'Her bottom is open for you now', said Jane, and at that I slithered-back down-on the floor as my sister stepped aside, though gripping the girl's rich buttocks in her hands, as I saw on rising. 'He can't! He mustn't! Oh, dear heavens, save me- let me rise!', screeched Catherine. 'Fetch the birch, Emily.
I have one ready in the cupboard there', said Arnold, pointing as he spoke. A letch-as men are wont to call it-came upon me then to see it done: to see, perhaps, how Jane herself had looked when being trestled. Had her legs kicked much as Catherine's might, and had her bottom reddened, had she screeched as this girl surely would? There was in me a hardness I had not expected-a sense of that 'revenge' of which Arnold had spoken, though I knew not the source of that emotion nor-its real direction. The implement being quickly found, I turned back to the bed where Catherine was alternating pleas with imprecations all the while that Arnold held her neck and Jane her bottom cheeks, her fingers well pressed into the proud flesh. Was I to swish the twigs? I knew not how to, though. Indeed, there is an art to it, for only a third or so of the bunched teasers should hiss a path across an offered orb, and even so with artfulness, not rage. The wrist should act with suppleness. I speak in hindsight, having learned much since. 'I will do it, Emily. Come, hold her neck. Keep a firm grip thereon-ignore her howls. She may have to become more used to this in future weeks'. 'I won't-no never! Don't you dare!', cried Catherine while my hand slid beneath his own, and I extending the birch to him. 'You, Jane, sit on the bed and ring her waist', came the command, the which my sister gladly did, her legs askew and facing him, as I was with my feet tucked under me. 'I will do anything!', squealed Catherine in pleading, though she most obviously knew not what she said. 'You are going to', replied Arnold coldly. Taking up position at her bumptious rear, he tapped her with the twigs and brought a nervous squeak from her. 'Don't, please! I will let you-honestly!' 'After your medicine, no doubt you will, but pray remember, Catherine, that it is not I alone you have to please. There are other pricks that wait, my sweet, to invade your bottomhole and squirt their urging juices in. Your bottom cheeks will positively bloom with all the nourishment they will receive'.
SWOOO-ISSSH! 'NAR-HAAAR! Oh NO!', came from the maiden then, and I admit to screwing up my eyes as the twigs assailed her lovely derriere, making her roll it all about while Jane held both arms to keep a hold on her. 'Please, please! It stings! No more!
WA-HOOO!', wailed Catherine beneath the searching sweeping of the twigs. 'No MORE? Are you to say the same after your first cock, Catherine? You who have taunted, teased, and boasted of that which you have never had?' 'I have… I almost… THOOOO! It's burning me, it's burning!' 'It is meant to, dear', said Jane, and cast at me over her shoulder a look of utmost mischief, and at the same time challenging such thoughts as I had often had of her. 'No, stop-no, stop! It's not fair! HAAAR! YEEE-OUCH!' 'A labour of love, and all is fair in it. Six for a girl who teases, Catherine; a dozen for a stubborn one. Which will you be?', growled Arnold then.
'I'll be… I'll be… I'll be… FOO-AAAARGH!' 'I find that no reply at all, my dear. Quite clearly you need extra ones. You must take the cock freely, Catherine, or else must take the birch before the cock. Which shall it be?' 'I will t…t… take… I will!'
'Freely, I said. You heard me, girl!' SWOOO-ISSSSH! again, and a long, sweet howl that came from twixt her lips. 'Freely, yes, freely yes, I'll let him-let you-do it. Please, oh please!' 'Say that you want a prick up your bottom, Catherine, now-say it!', commanded Jane while the girl writhed. 'She has said sufficient for the moment. Ladies, let her be. Release her! Catherine, you will not move except to push your bottom up', said Arnold as we eased off from the bed, Jane moving to one side of him and I the other.
'MOO-HOOO!', sobbed Catherine. Her cheeks were reddened-strawberries and cream, hips swivelling. Her feet had taken purchase on the floor again. She looked most piteous and defenseless, as a birched girl does, yet I felt no pity in me for her plight.
Rather did I hold my breath as he thumbed her stricken cheeks apart and exposed the dark-brown orifice between, Jane fumbling at his straining buttons as he did, and bringing his big pego out. Restored in majesty, it glowed its head, albeit showing dried flecks of my spendings, and of his. 'N… n… n… n…!', came then from Catherine as the great, quivering prodder nosed against her waiting hole. Arnold then flexed his knees and pushed hers inward from the back, making their positions utterly lewd, and yet with an animality that came sweetly to my eyes. I could see the plum already sinking slowly in her orifice, forcing the rubbery ring and making her fingers clench and unclench. -'No, no, no!', she moaned, but such a petulance is permitted from a girl untried before. Her shoulders rippled, hunched. In vain she tried to squirm her hot bulb sideways, but Arnold- already the part master of his goal-had clamped her hips on either curving surface, strained his loins, and sank a full third of his penis in, mouth open as he did so, for my eyes like fireflies danced about the pair. Catherine had raised her face, chin resting on the quilt, mouth open in a wondering O. Fair fit to take another cock, I thought, and wondered if I ever might-would dare-to take two males at once: one twixt my lips, the other working in my honeypot. 'Go on, go on- oh, Arnold, let us see it go right up', urged Jane. Her eyes were polished pebbles, bright and clear. 'Doh-doh-doh- don't!', whined Catherine, but it was clear that she had surrendered to his will. As I had done, upon a different bed, she stilled her hips and peeped a long pink tongue out as his prick surged up and buried itself firmly in her fundament. – 'WHOOO!', came from her, and then her head hung down, her bottom bulbing tight into his loins. 'My god, she's tight-the first one in', he groaned, but like a gentleman he held it in to let her savour the huge pulsing of his rod before he stirred it slowly back and forth, drawing out almost to the helmet's rim and plunging powerfully within again, each stroke bringing from Catherine a whimpering moan. 'Let me kiss her-feel her titties', Jane exclaimed. Already she was wriggling her own hips, as I was, too.
'No! Not until she is more docile and does not need the birch. A girl should not be cozened at her trials. Unless she is much younger', he added thoughtfully, grimacing at his pleasure while he worked.
The sounds that came from Catherine were much as I had uttered, too, upon the first invasion of my derriere. At first there is a stinging, then it dies. The crest of a warmer wave approaches, laps the cunny, warms and moistens-subtly-the tight interior wherein the cock stirs slowly back and forth. He who goes like a whippet to his task will never bring a girl to pleasure. The action must be that of pumping strongly on each inward stroke- never with haste, but with a powerful ease that speaks authority. The girl may whimper inwardly-may utter now and then a sob-but pleasure will soon take her if the male is knowing at his task. Nor should she roll her bottom in the act, for that destroys the rhythm of the thrusts. As the moment of delicious crisis comes on her, she may work her hips a little, back and forth, the which will tell him that she wishes to receive the cooling draught. He will feel her nipples hard, tits slightly swollen.
Should he brush her cunny with his fingers, he may feel her spurt, and know that she has yielded to the fleshly bliss with all abandon.
Whether to finger a girl when she is being corked for the first time in her bottom is a matter that concerns as much the character of the girl as the finesse and determination of the male. A maiden who has been ultimately stubborn, not even lending her bare bottom to caresses-one who averts her lips and blushes and will not be kissed-should be pumped the first time, and no more. Only afterwards is her pouting cunny fingered to see how moist it has become-whether it pulses, whether she has spilled. She will then be left to her thoughts, and given a playful smack perhaps, but no more 'comforting' than that. Silent treatment of such a stubborn maiden is the best. On the next occasion she may be seized without warning, and the cock urged up her bottom without recourse to the birch. On such occasions the gendeman must control himself and keep his shaft full buried inbetween her
