Hirst Hall

Chapter 15 – In which my daughter and I come to terms with our position.

The following morning saw the four of us at breakfast.  It might have been an everyday repast at any great house except that my daughter was sat there with her little breasts framed by her bust-line rather than hidden by it.  I was determined to fight back.

“Georgina, I think we should go riding this morning.”  I made it sound as decided as possible.

“Lady Dalrymple, I was hoping to sketch Miss Georgina this morning,” Miss Hailsham countered politely.

“I should like to have my daughter for half of every day, Miss Hailsham,” and I looked to Sir Thomas for support.

“That seems reasonable,” he replied equitably.  “Miss Hailsham. I assume you can sketch in the afternoon as well as in the morning?”

“Yes, Sir Thomas.” She was again as polite as one might expect from any governess.

“Well, then that is settled.  Miss Hailsham, each morning you will ask Lady Caroline which half of the day she desires to have Miss Georgina for.  The other part she is at your disposal for your tutoring.”

“But Mama, I cannot go riding like this,” Georgina said quietly, looking down at her exposed bosom and half-naked legs.

“Your mother has,” Sir Thomas said happily, “but, as I know she prefers to ride astride and will no doubt wish you to do the same, you may have a long skirt.  But your pretty chest will remain bare till you have earned your proper clothes back.”

“Yes, Sir Thomas,” my poor little girl said humbly.

“We must make sure you are ready for Lord Llanbedr when he comes,” my husband continued.

“Ready?” I queried.  “How so, husband?”

“Well a lady should always have a plan for how to ensure her husband is run to ground,” he said conversationally.  “Many years ago, I spent a season up in London having a wild time.”

I rolled my eyes, having heard these tales just days before.  He noticed and grinned.

“Well, wife, at the end of the season I was summoned back to Hirst Hall.  My father had decided it was time for his son and heir to marry.  The House was not ten years finished and our new wealth from Green Mountain was on full display.  The number of desirable young ladies was pleasantly large and I spent an enjoyable summer playing the eligible bachelor.  There were ladies from excellent families and ladies with wealth and ladies with beauty.  Never, it seemed, all three together though.

“Sometime in August a small Welsh beauty appeared at one of our house parties.  While she was undoubtedly attractive, she was neither from a great family nor of any particular wealth.  She teased me quite unmercifully, both in the sense of flaunting her beauty and of making fun of my rather pompous young maleness. I could not decide whether I loathed her or was attracted to her.

“Then one day young Anne and I were having a picnic with others in the sunken garden south of the orangery.  It was a warm day and she’d had a little more to drink than was her wont.  I saw my opportunity and invited her to explore a small wilderness nearby.  While there she slipped tipsily and fell against me.  I kissed her before she had any chance to resist.  I remember her smiling at me and shyly kissing me back.  Then she slid to her knees, undid my breaches and took out my cock.  In her drunkenness she not only kissed it and licked it, she sucked it and finally swallowed the entire thing.  Not even the whores in London had done that.  And when I came, which as you can imagine took mere moments, she swallowed it all.  Then saying nothing she buttoned up my britches and took me back to the others.  I was so dazed I think she led me like the prize bull in a harvest fair parade.

“The next day she professed eternal shame at her behaviour and anger that I had taken advantage of her inebriation.  There was no way that she would even be alone with me again.  I, in turn, was desperate for her and obsessed to the point of unreason.  We were engaged within the week and married in two months.  It was not till our wedding night that she confessed that she had never been very drunk and that swallowing my cock had been the most exciting thing she had ever done which she proved by repeating the performance.  And she confessed that I was far from the first, though she did alleviate the shock of her deception by telling me I was the biggest.

“When much later I had my revenge by humiliating her in public, I discovered that Anne found that every bit as exciting as sucking cocks.  In fact during our entire marriage I was never sure who was in control.  I felt myself the lord of the manor but always wondered if I were dancing to my lady’s tune.  So, Miss Georgina, you must find your own way of ensuring Lord Llanbedr is well and truly hooked, landed and gaffed!”

“But I don’t...,” began Georgina before trailing off.

“Miss Hailsham will help you,” said Sir Thomas, “and your mother probably has some ideas too.  Now I must go to the estate office.”

“We will go riding this morning, Miss Hailsham,” I immediately asserted, “as soon as Georgina’s dress has had a proper skirt stitched onto it.  Would you care to join us?”  I was interested to hear her response.

“That would be very kind, Lady Caroline.  I should enjoy that.”

And it was indeed a lovely ride once Georgina had got over the embarrassment of riding with her breasts exposed.  I carefully kept to the quieter parts of the estate and young Ralph kept a discreet distance ahead and twice warned us of estate labourers so we could turn to one side.  Miss Hailsham was a better horsewoman than I expected, having heard that she was brought up in London.  She applied herself to riding with the intense determination she seemed to put into her drawing and her other duties.

That afternoon I sat and read for a while and then tried to write a letter.  My mind, though, kept drifting to what might or might not be happening in the old nursery.  Eventually I could stand it no longer and went to investigate. With trepidation I quietly opened the door to the room steeling myself against what I might see.

Georgina was sat in the window seat, angled so that the afternoon sun was catching her body.  She reclined comfortably against cushions and had her face turned to look out at the westerly view across the park.  She was quite naked.  Her legs were drawn up so that her feet were beside her bottom and her knees were spread apart, leaving her sex spread open. This openness was enhanced because the fingers of both her hands had peeled open and were holding apart the lips of her sex.  Not just the outer ones but the inner ones too.  Her sex was so opened that one could actually see her hole.  Her little bud was stiff and her pink flesh glistened with a sheen of wetness.  Clearly she was somewhat excited by keeping this wanton pose.

Very close to Georgina sat Miss Hailsham on a small stool with a sketchpad in one hand and a pencil in the other.  She was concentrating on sketching my daughter.  Except that she wasn’t sketching all of her, she was only drawing her open sex.  It was there on the paper, larger than life-sized and in amazing detail.  I would have been impressed at the quality of the work had it been of a more normal subject.

At that moment the draught from the open door must have alerted them.  Georgina glanced over from the view, clearly expecting Eliza or Mrs. Jones.  It wasn’t till her eyes opened wide in surprise at seeing me that she released her hold on her sex.  Instead she swiftly covered herself with the same hands.

Miss Hailsham having seen me too, turned back to Georgina.  “Now, Georgie, what have I told you about not changing your pose unless I tell you to?”

“But, Miss, it’s my mother...”  Georgina sounded nervous and shocked.

“Yes, I know Lady Caroline is your mother.  However while during half the day you are to be the dutiful daughter, during the other half you are my pupil.  Now spread yourself wide again.  Show us how sticky you are.”  Her tone was both teasing and authoritative.

Slowly Georgina spread her sex open again.  The poor girl was now blushing a shade of pink that almost matched the rosy hue of her innermost flesh.  It was hard not to notice though that the inner folds of her sex were if anything moister than before.

“Please mother, please don’t stay...” she begged me in desperate tones.

I hesitated.

“But perhaps Lady Caroline would like to see our sketches from the last week?”  There was a distinctly mocking and challenging undertone to Miss Hailsham’s voice.

“Very well,” I managed, determined not just to flee, “I would like to see your work.  I take it there are drawings by Georgina as well as of her?”

“Oh yes, your ladyship.”  Miss Hailsham replied.  “If you just give me a couple of minutes to finish this study of your daughter’s pretty pink cunt, then we can show you our sketches.”

I knew she had used the word just to shock me but I stood my ground and closed the door behind me.  Georgina was once again looking out the window and I could see a solitary tear running down the cheek nearest me.  She was clearly humiliated, upset and excited all at the same time.  Why did I not derive any pleasure from being displayed?  Lady Anne and my daughter both did.

I could see that the drawing was complete apart from the final details of the blonde curls on my daughter’s mound and indeed in a few minutes time they too were detailed in.

“Well done, Georgie, all finished.  You deserve your kiss now.”  Miss Hailsham put down her sketchpad and leant towards Georgina, who shrank back against the cushions.

“No, please Miss, not in front of my mother...” Georgina sounded quite desperate.

“No?  No reward then?  Very well, let us show off our drawings.  I’ll ring for tea first.”  And she stood up and went to ring the bell pull by the mantelpiece.

My daughter’s tear-pricked blue eyes followed her every movement.  She was still in her open pose on the window seat, but her fingers had at least released their spreading grip. “But Miss, I want it...  Oh, please Mother, please leave for one minute.  Please?”

I just stood there, irresolute and confused.

“No, Georgie, it is not polite to ask guests to leave the room,” continued Miss Hailsham firmly.  “You have earned your kiss, now do you want it?  I would like an affirmative or negative response.  No more silliness.”

“Oh please...  Please Miss...,” Georgina’s gaze was on her governess but it kept flicking to me.  She was now pinker than ever.  “Please, Miss, p... please m... may I have my kiss?  Oh, God...”

“Why of course you may,” said Miss Hailsham sweetly, “you deserve it for posing so nicely.”

She approached Georgina who had not moved upon the seat.  I did not know whether to run or stay.  I knew that if I left I would have lost some of my pride before this strange young governess.

Miss Hailsham took my daughter’s face in her hands and began to kiss her.  Not chastely, but passionately and hungrily.  If there had been any remaining doubts as to my little girl’s tastes they vanished at that moment.  She melted as her tutor’s urgent tongue quested its way into her mouth.  Her hands came up to meet on the back of Miss Hailsham’s head, gently running over the bun of brown hair.  That she loved the woman was clear, whether it was infatuation or something deeper I did not know.

Soon the governess’ head moved downwards and began to kiss Georgina’s hard nipples.  The woman actually managed to suck the entirety of my girl’s breasts into her mouth, first one side and then the other. 

Georgina was moaning now, head thrown back, mouth open and eyes screwed shut.   I am not sure she even knew I was there anymore.

Miss Hailsham moved again, leaving a wet trail of saliva across Georgina’s belly as she went.  When she reached her target she kissed it, and then licked it before finally sucking the entire little bud into her mouth.

“Waah!”  Georgina convulsed, shoving her sex upwards into the other woman’s mouth.  She groaned in evident climax.  It seemed to go on forever as Miss Hailsham refused to relinquish her lips’ grip on the morsel of flesh.

Was that what it looked like when I reached my peak in the Yellow Salon before everyone?  I had no need to touch myself to know that I was damp below my waist.  It is not that I am attracted to women; it is just that the scene before me was so undeniably, intensely sexual.  I also confirmed for me that I liked to watch others have sexual relations.  For reasons I do not understand it excites me.

Finally Miss Hailsham raised her face, shiny with wetness, from my daughter’s sex.  Poor Georgina lay upon the cushions gasping for breath.

“What do you say, Georgie?” The governess was teasing now.

“Thank you, Miss, thank you for my kiss,” the girl whispered back.

“Come then, let’s show your mother our hard work!”  And Miss Hailsham sounded suddenly like the young woman she was under that entirely perverse teacher personality.  She wanted to show off her artistic abilities as much as anyone.

The tea arrived, brought by Eliza in her short uniform.  Her eyes widened as she saw me there.

Miss Hailsham arranged me on the sofa and placed a table before me.  Eliza laid out tea upon another.  Georgina, still naked and with her flush slowly subsiding went about helping get all the drawings out.  She and her tutor huddled together by the window seat deciding on and arranging the pictures.  They made an incongruous sight: one short and fully dressed the other utterly naked with her long legs, fair hair and willowy figure. 

Occasionally Georgina would shake her head and whisper, “Not that one, please Miss?”

“Of course that one, it shows you so well!” Miss Hailsham would whisper back.

As they were about ready, the door opened and Sir Thomas strode in.

“Mrs. Jones told me you were all up here,” he boomed.  “All that sun streaming in, perfect place for tea.”

The two young women whirled round.  Georgina flushed pink once more as Sir Thomas looked her nudity up and down quite blatantly.  Miss Hailsham curtseyed and a moment later so did her charge.

“We were about to look at some of our drawings, Sir Thomas.  Does that sound agreeable?” Miss Hailsham enquired politely.  Georgina just turned pinker.

“Capital!” And he came and sat close beside me on the settee.  “Pour the tea, please, Eliza.  And Eliza, if I hear that you have been insolent with my wife one more time, I’ll have you buggered.  In public.  Is that clear?”

“Yes Sir Thomas.  I am so sorry, Sir.  Your ladyship, it won’t happen again.”  The girl was in tears and I suddenly felt sorry for her.  She looked so vulnerable with her breasts half-out and her legs bare below the knee.

I felt my husband’s thigh pressed against mine through my dress.  I shivered as his presence had its customary effect on me.   This was going to be difficult.

The first sketch was of Miss Hailsham’s head and was by Georgina.  It was half-finished and showed a good hand but without the governess’ manifest talents.

“This is the sketch that Miss Georgina was making of me the first afternoon,” Miss Hailsham explained, “after you left on your trip.  It is unfinished because I asked her if she were attracted to women and at that point the sketching class finished for the day.  Bring the next one please, Georgina.”

The second one was a quick sketch by Miss Hailsham and showed Georgina bound hand and foot on the sofa we were currently sat on.  There were stripes from a strap on her bottom and her woebegone face was towards the artist.

“This was later that same day.  Mrs. Jones had just strapped her backside and Miss Georgina was just affirming to me that she did think she was partial to women after all.”

The next one was with my poor daughter sat upon the sofa with her legs wide apart and drawn up and her arms bound along its back.  Between her legs knelt a fully dressed woman.  I could tell immediately that it was Mrs. Jones from the style of the dress.  Georgina’s face was a mask of shock and lust.  It was so remarkably intense.

“This is the last sketch that first day.  Mrs. Jones had just given Georgina her first Sapphic orgasm. And our little girl went on to have two more soon after.  After this she no longer denied her true self, though she did baulk at letting herself take part in some activities, at least till the crop made her think again.”

After this there were numerous other sketches, almost all by Miss Hailsham.  Most showed Georgina with Mrs. Jones.  There were drawings of her sucking and licking every part of the housekeeper’s body.  There was even one portrait where my dear daughter had her tongue actually inside the woman’s bottomhole.

“We did have to use the crop a few times before Miss Georgina agreed to do that particular one.  But she managed it and now she loves it?  Don’t you, Georgie?”

“Please...  please Miss...  Oh, yes I like it...”  My daughter would not meet our eyes but stared at her feet.

“Like what, Georgie?”

“Like... like... I like licking your arsehole, Miss.  And Mrs. Jones’.”

There were several drawings by Georgina of Miss Hailsham or Mrs. Jones, naked in various poses on the window seat or the sofa, but never together.  In comparison with her own positions these were positively chaste.

The last three shown to us were noteworthy: all were by the governess.  The first was drawn to show the view as Miss Hailsham looked down along her body to where Georgina was sucking on her sex.  The hard muscled body was caught in a foreshortened pose and my daughter’s face was shown with her chin in her tutor’s sex, her tongue out on her lover’s bud and her eyes looking up, wide with devotion like those of a puppy.

The second showed Eliza wielding a clyster.  Georgina lay over the bed with her bottom raised and her hands yawning the cheeks of her bottom apart.  The device was fully inserted and the maid was pushing the plunger home.  What made it different from my morning ritual was that, whereas I buried my head in the covers to hide my shame, Georgina was looking back at the artist with a look of open-mouthed lust on her face, the tip of her tongue poking out to touch her lip.  I do not know whether it was the humiliation or having her bottom played with that was more exciting for her.

The final one showed Georgina reclining in the window seat, legs akimbo, while she worked the two dildoes I had seen the day before in and out of her body.  As yesterday the smallest one was in her bottomhole while the larger one penetrated her sex.  The look of lust was intense and perfectly captured by the artist.

“I’m afraid poor Miss Georgina was not allowed to climax until the sketch was done.  She found it very difficult, didn’t you, Georgie?”

“Yes, Miss, very difficult.” 

“Do you remember what you promised if I let you come, you little strumpet?”

“Yerrs, Miss...”

“Tell us then.  Tell your mother and Sir Thomas.”

“Please, Miss?...  Oh God...  I...  I...  I promised to let you pee in my f... face... and to d... drink it, Miss.”  Georgina was crying now, but I could tell by her voice and the flint-hard nipples how aroused she was.  This was, without a shadow of a doubt, exciting her.  She kept unconsciously rubbing her thighs together as if to bring herself relief.  She stood there eyes shut and so very vulnerable and beautiful.

“And have I, little girl?”

“No, Miss.”

“But you know I will someday, don’t you?”

“Yesss,” she whispered.

Miss Hailsham leant in very close and standing on tip-toes spoke directly into her ear.  “And you want me to, don’t you, you little whore?”

“No, Miss...  Yes, Miss...  I don’t know...  Yes, I want it!” Her fingers were sliding across her thighs towards her bud.

“Don’t you dare, you little harlot.  Not without my permission.  Do you want to come?” The iron in her voice held Georgina in thrall.

Sir Thomas’ hand found mine and squeezed it. I realized I was holding my breath.

“Yes, Miss,” came a little girl’s voice finally, “yes, I want to.  Please may I come for you?”

“Open your eyes, look at your mother and play with yourself.  And tell her when you are coming.”

“No, please not that, please, Miss,” Georgina was begging.  But her eyes opened and her fingers moved to her mound.  She stared at me, unfocussed, as she frantically rubbed her little bud.

“Ah! Ah! Ah! Aargh!  I’m coming, Mummy!  Mummy! Coming, Mummy!”  She was squealing as she furiously tugged her little nub of flesh about.  Slowly she slipped to her knees before us.  “Thank you, Miss.  Oh God, thank you.”

I have to confess the scene had made me unbearably hot, even though it was my own flesh and blood.

“Thank you, Miss Hailsham,” said my husband evenly, though I could tell from the monstrous bulge in his breaches that he was as affected as I, “most edifying!  Perhaps I can return the favour.  Please won’t you and Georgina join me tomorrow for tea in the Yellow Salon?

The following morning, Georgina was with Miss Hailsham and she did not join me until luncheon.  We said nothing of the happenings the day before or of what she might have been doing before lunch.  We sat in the Chinese Salon and talked of friends and the house parties to come, of dresses and balls.  We pretended that yesterday had not happened nor that teatime was fast approaching.  I wanted to ask what it felt like to derive pleasure from being humiliated, what a woman tasted like, why she didn’t hate Miss Hailsham.  I lacked the courage to broach the subject.  I was too well brought up, too well mannered and far too shy.

At half past four Mrs. Jones appeared to fetch us.  I looked at her; she seemed somehow different.  Perhaps it was that I had now seen her naked in a dozen different sketches.  Or maybe it was that she had been so intimate with my daughter in so many different and obscene ways. I now knew that her figure, always so well hidden in her brown dresses, was very fine indeed if not quite as voluptuous as mine.

“Lady Caroline, Miss Georgina, it is time for tea, if you please.”  In truth it sounded like the summons it was.

We entered the salon to find Sir Thomas, Rose, Eliza and Miss Hailsham already present.  The maids stood off to one side, while the governess sat in one chair and my husband had the other.  Mrs. Jones went to stand behind my husband as she always seemed to.  That left the sofa for Georgina and me and so we sat decorously beside each other.  Georgina was staring at the portrait of Lady Anne in her scarlet riding habit.  I had by now become accustomed to its subject’s startling gaze.

“As Miss Georgina managed to entertain us so well yesterday,” Sir Thomas began, “I thought today perhaps both ladies might care to amuse us.  I have thought of a diverting competition for you both.”

I swallowed hard and kept my gaze on my hands in my lap.  Obedient, I had sworn to be obedient.

“To begin with, Eliza and Rosie, please undress your mistresses.  You may leave on their boots.”

We stood to make it easier for our maids.  In Georgina’s case it took mere moments as her tiny dress fell away as soon as it was unbuttoned and she stepped out naked.  In my case it took longer as dress, corset, shift, petticoats and drawers were all removed, leaving me naked but for stockings and boots.  I don’t think my daughter had ever seen me in a state of undress before and she did stare at me.  I caught her perusing my breasts (I knew she had always desired bigger breasts like mine) and my flared hips.  My complete lack of a bush made her blush; I supposed I was the first woman she had ever seen without one.

“If I did not know, I would swear you were not mother and daughter,” said Sir Thomas, “a thin blonde girl and a statuesque auburn woman.  Still, as we know, you have some sexual traits in common.  Now I would like you both to kneel on the sofa side by side, bottoms towards the fireplace and heads on the back of the sofa.”

We complied with unfeigned reluctance.  Soon enough though were kneeling side by side.

“Now turn your heads and look at each other.”

I turned and saw Georgina with her head resting on her hands and looking at me.  I could tell from her slightly parted lips and the stiffness of her nipples that she was already excited by having to kneel naked beside me. I tried to smile at her, but I was sure my effort was nervous.

“Knees apart, ladies, about a foot should do.  Well done.”

He came to stand directly behind us and then I felt his hand running over my bottom, stroking and patting it.  It felt pleasant despite the indecency of the scene.  He always left me helpless.

“I should like to stroke yours too, Miss Georgina, but I have promised your mother that no man will touch you here at Hirst Hall.  I shall confine myself to enjoying the view.”

“Thank you, Sir,” choked out my daughter.

“What do you think of the sight, Mrs. Jones, Miss Hailsham?” Sir Thomas continued.

Miss Hailsham stood and walked over to us.  Please don’t let her touch me, I begged silently.  She stroked and patted Georgina as she might a pet dog.

“I do like Georgina’s hindquarters, Sir Thomas, all long legs and tight buttocks.  But I also like a woman with proper hips and Lady Caroline has a most excellent backside for a woman her age. She is firm like a twenty-year old, must be all that riding.  May I, Sir?

“Be my guest, Miss Hailsham...” 

Nooo!  Please, not that...  But it was too late.  Her hands were running over my bottom, stroking and patting me.  Then she kneaded my buttocks and I groaned out loud before finally giving a little wail as she pulled my cheeks apart to inspect my bottomhole.

“Magnificent, Lady Caroline, you are quite magnificent!”  I could not tell if she were teasing me.

Mrs. Jones in turn did no more than stand and look at us.  I was so grateful.

“I cannot decide which I would prefer in my bed to keep me warm at night, Sir Thomas,” said the housekeeper.  “Both would make a bedwarmer quite redundant.”

“Well, Mrs. Jones, I do not believe Lady Caroline will take you up on that offer.  Will you, my dear?”

“No, Sir.  I will not.”  It was a repulsive notion.

“Now, today’s game will involve what we a have already established to be the most sensitive parts of both your bodies: your arseholes.”

Oh my dear God, no!  I did not think I could stand having Georgina know how any touch there affected me.

“Miss Hailsham has agreed to manipulate this toy in your bottom, Miss Georgina.”  Here he waved the smallest dildoe. “While for you, wife, it will be this one and Mrs. Jones has agreed to do the honours.” He waved the second one at me before handing them both to the governess and housekeeper.

“No competition is complete without prizes and forfeits.  The prizes, self-evidently, will be the pleasure you two derive from having your arseholes toyed with.  The winner will be the lady who manages to climax the greatest number of times.  The loser will receive strokes of the crop equivalent to the difference between her score and the winner’s.  Is that clear?  I think half an hour should do the trick.  Then we can stop and have our tea.”

Merciful Lord, this was going to be terrible.

“You will keep looking at each other and for each time I have to remind you to keep your eyes open you will lose one point.  For a climax to count I expect you to tell us that you are having one.  Right, the time starts: NOW!”

I glanced back to see Miss Hailsham dipping the little dildoe in ointment before sliding it into Georgina’s bottom.  I saw her eyes open in response and then I felt the same sensation in myself as Mrs. Jones shoved the larger tool into me.   She was quite rough with it, pushing the entire length into me in one long shove.  I groaned in discomfort but kept my eyes on my daughter’s blue ones.  She was already gasping and wriggling her bottom in response to her governess movements.  Within a couple of minutes she was squealing.

“I’m coming...  Oh Mummy, I’m coming...  It’s so good...”

I was horrified.  I wanted her to win, knowing I could take (and even enjoy a little) the pain better than she could.  But I wanted her to win by one or two climaxes, not many.  Please, not many.  I had to keep up.  I vigorously shoved my bottom back against Mrs. Jones in an obscene parody of my movements in bed with Sir Thomas.  I concentrated on the feelings of pleasure radiating from my bottomhole in waves.  I felt my ecstasy climbing.  I imagined him sinking his big organ into my backside: so big, so deep.

“I’m coming again, Mummy!  Again...”

And she was, gasping for air and with her tongue out and flicking up and down.  In shock I realised she was imagining licking some woman’s sex as she climaxed.  I had to concentrate.  I unfocussed my eyes and just imagined Sir Thomas behind me ploughing my bottom, forcing his entire length into my bowels.

“Oh God, I’m coming...  Coming, darling...”

I had caught up one climax, but having done that I struggled to focus on the task.  Had I been allowed to reach down and touch my bud it would have been easy, so easy.  I tried to concentrate on my pleasure, but it was hard.  This wasn’t Sir Thomas and it wasn’t our bedroom.  And while Mrs. Jones could push my pleasure higher and higher with the clever way she used the dildoe, she could not supply the last little push over the edge.

Georgina was having no such trouble.  Her hands were still on the back of the sofa but her face had slid down and she was hanging there, her back arched so she could shove her backside hard back against her tutor’s hand.  Her eyes were open but utterly glazed over. Her tongue was still stuck out to its limit.

“Ungh, coming Mummy...  Coming Miss. Coming again.”

She seemed to be almost delirious and I stared at her in horrified fascination.

“Ungh, fuck my arsehole!  Fuck my arsehole!  Fuck my dirty arsehole!  I’m coming, Miss... your little slut is coming...

It was hard to tell where one orgasm stopped and the next began.  I was going to lose terribly.  I had to stop thinking of her.  I let myself go to another place.  I imagined James the gardener slowly forcing his gigantic penis into my bottomhole, stretching me, hurting me, opening me, filling me.  Over and over again.  Hurting me!  Stretching me!  I viciously shoved my bottom back and forth and then finally...

“I’m coming, coming... Oh, Thomas, I’m coming...”

But that was it for me and I watched as Miss Hailsham drove my daughter on.   One of her hands had come off the back by now and her face was on the cushions while she hung from her remaining arm.  She babbled a string of obscenities as she sought one more climax.

“Fuck me, Miss, fuck your little whore.  Shove it up my arse!  Please Miss, harder, deeper...  Let me suck your cunt, please let me suck your cunt...  I’m coming...  your dirty whore is coming...”

“Time ladies, please!” Sir Thomas’ words released me from my purgatory.

I felt the dildoe removed from my bottom and saw Miss Hailsham do likewise from Georgina’s.  My dear child was still thrusting her bottom back and forth as if to recapture the damned thing, her face buried in the cushions.  Slowly she slid over on one side and lay there gasping, moaning and crying.  I gathered her up onto my naked lap and stroked her hair.  Poor, poor little girl.

“How many times do you think Miss Georgina managed to come for us, Miss Hailsham?” my husband enquired in the tone of a scorekeeper.

“Eight for sure, Sir Thomas, though it can be difficult to tell them apart when the she slips into her little harlot mode.”

“Less one for when I told her to open her eyes is seven.  And my wife, Mrs. Jones?  I counted just the two.”

“Two it was, sir.  I think her ladyship rather needs to be touched somewhere else as well.”

“And so, my dearest, you lose by five.  Would you mind bending over my chair and gripping the arms.  Mrs. Jones will do the necessary.  If you release your grip the stroke does not count.”

I eased Georgina’s head off my lap and onto a cushion.  Stoically I walked to behind the chair and leant forward, letting my breasts swing out for all to see.  I gripped and did not release the arms.

Five fiery red stripes from the crop were applied to my posterior, marching in a row down from the top of my bottom.  The housekeeper was not gentle and was quite expert.  I imagined she had beaten enough errant maids.  Each vicious cut was echoed by a molten surge in my sex.  By the end I knew that the slightest touch on my bud would drive me to a climax.  It was not to be.

“You may dress Lady Caroline now, Rose. “ She hurried over and carefully I dressed trying to avoid pressure on my flaming behind.  Finally, gingerly, I sat back on the sofa.

“What about your charge, Miss Hailsham?  Shall she dress?”  My husband was solicitously passing me a cup of tea.

“I think not, Sir Thomas.  Miss Georgina has been a complete trollop this afternoon.  Haven’t you, Georgie?”  The governess was pulling my daughter into an upright position beside me.

“Yes, Miss.  But please let me dress.  Please?” 

“No, you have behaved like a whore, you can sit like one.  Now, back straight, head up, tits out and move those knees apart.  Wider...  that’s it, let everyone see how wet your slit is.  Perfect!  Now, would you like a cup of tea, little girl?”

“Yerss, Miss”

And like that we had our afternoon tea.  I was grateful that they could not see my sex which was as hot and wet as Georgina’s, just from the heat in my damaged behind.  Georgina sat there with her breathing shallow, her nipples like little flints and her slit glistening.  She was clearly terribly excited being made to have tea undressed before her mother, stepfather and governess, not to mention the servants.  And that despite having already climaxed numerous times.

Much later I lay on my husband’s bed while he gently rubbed salve into my striped bottom.  It soothed and excited in equal measures.  He was naked and his big member was as stiff as a fire poker.  I was getting hotter by the second as he ever so gently ran his fingers over each weal.

“Would you have had her beaten as hard?”

“You were never going to win today, my dearest.”  I could feel him moving behind me and felt his stiffness suddenly resting in the cleft of my bottom.  Oh Dear Jesus, how I wanted him...

“How did you know?” I whispered, arching myself and spreading my legs.

“She enjoys being humiliated, more than you can imagine.  Perhaps even more than Lady Anne.  She at least could hide it, Georgina positively radiates it.”  The head of him began to push between my buttocks till it rested against my tight little hole.

“So I couldn’t win?  Aaagh...” He had shoved himself into me.

“Never.   I would have your daughter paraded naked around the whole house except that she would drip on the carpets.”

“Ah! Oh! Ooooh!” He had pushed right into me, his hair tickling the painful stripes on my buttocks.  “I’m coming, husband, I’m coming!”

“You’re as big a slut as your daughter, wife,” and then he really began to plough my bottomhole.  Soon I was quite, quite lost.