Hirst Hall

Chapter 16 – In which my daughter is betrothed.

Lord Llanbedr arrived a week later.

During that week Sir Thomas had not abused me except on the day before his lordship’s arrival.  He came back for luncheon that day and after the meal happily announced that Georgina was to be allowed her proper dresses from that evening onwards.

“However, I should like to enjoy her in her current outfit until tonight.  Perhaps you would like to join her, my sweet.  That way I may admire you both.”

Without demur I went to change into my now familiar short dress.  When I returned my daughter gave out a little gasp.  She had not seen me so scandalously attired. And while my nipples were covered (barely) the dress did push my breasts out and made them look very large indeed.  Not to mention my bare arms and legs.

“Come, let us go to the Yellow Salon,” Sir Thomas said cheerfully.  Miss Hailsham accompanied us.

I quailed inwardly; I sensed there was more to this test of my obedience than my foreshortened attire.

Mrs. Jones joined us there and we were all soon seated apart from the housekeeper.

“To commemorate Miss Georgina’s last day with her titties on display I should like her to be about the house with a somewhat stickier face.  Do you think you ladies can manage that?”  Sir Thomas’ voice was teasing but calculating.

Miss Hailsham smiled broadly.  “Of course we can, Sir Thomas.  Would you like to begin, Mrs. Jones or shall I?”

“You begin, Miss Hailsham, by all means.” The housekeeper was smiling too.

“Come, Georgie.  Come and take my drawers off.”  The governess stood to make it easier.

Georgina quickly obeyed reaching under the skirts to undo the drawstring and let her governess’ undergarments fall down.  She was clearly practised at this manoeuvre.

Miss Hailsham stepped out of them and then sat back down and reclined in the chair.  “To work, little girl, you know what to do.”

Without even glancing at me Georgina had dived under the skirts and moments later I could see her head at the juncture of the tutor’s thighs.  Miss Hailsham gripped her head through the cloth and I could see her rubbing her sex all over my daughter’s face.  This went on for some minutes until Miss Hailsham stiffened and let out a series of little gasps.  Then she pushed the head away from her.

Georgina reappeared, her face flushed and smeared with Miss Hailsham’s secretions and her own spittle.

Straightaway Mrs. Jones beckoned her over.  Once more the drawers were removed and once again Georgina dived underneath the brown skirt.  By the time the housekeeper had reached her climax and pushed my child out, her face was completely smeared with both the women’s juices.  Some curls of her blonde hair were plastered to her cheeks and forehead with the sticky wetness.

“You look a picture, stepdaughter!” said my husband to my gasping daughter.

The poor thing was so excited at her humiliation that her hands were pressed together in front of her pushing at her mound through her dress.  One look from Miss Hailsham quelled that behaviour.

“I want you to remain like that until you dress for dinner.  Then you may wash yourself.  Is that clear, young lady?”

“Yes, Sir Thomas.”

“Now, your mother will of course want to keep you company!”

No, he couldn’t want me to!  Not that, it was too disgusting.  I would refuse.

“Mrs. Jones, would you mind asking three, no, make that four, of the footmen to attend us?” He was quite off-hand.

Oh God, that was revolting.  But at least it was better than what I had thought he wanted.  I was sure I would not have been able to go beneath another woman’s skirts.

Mrs. Jones reappeared minutes later with four of our footmen.  George, Hugh and David were there as I had expected.  The last was Stephen, who had only been with the household a couple of months.   He was a young man still with a bad rash of pimples.  They stood in a line awaiting instructions, all stealing glimpses at my scandalous attire and my daughter’s naked breasts and sticky face.

“Men, thank you for coming so promptly,” Sir Thomas began.  “Lady Caroline has an urgent desire to be as messy as her daughter.  I would be grateful if you would each in turn allow her to suck you off.  You are each to withdraw at the appropriate moment and leave your spunk in her face or on her tits.  Would you mind lifting them out for us, dear?”

Tears in my eyes I obeyed.  I merely had to stretch and my breasts popped out of their confines and sat on the top of the dress.

“Perhaps we had better start with young Stephen,” my husband said gently.

The pimply youth stumbled forward and fumbled with his fastenings. He brought forth his terribly stiff and red organ and approached me.

I opened my mouth in readiness.  That was too much for him and he exploded, spraying my face wildly with his slime. There was an enormous quantity of it and I could feel one large globule of it drip from my nose onto my breasts.  Dear Lord, this was horrible.

There were stifled guffaws from the other footmen but my husband was solicitous.

“Bad luck, lad.  Better luck next time!  You’re next George.”

One by one the men stepped forward and I sucked them at my husband’s command.  None of them lasted long. George sprayed my face wildly, much as young Stephen had, but with less volume.  Hugh aimed at the bridge of my nose and seemed to cover much of my forehead with his thick effusion.  I felt it running slowly down my eyebrows.  Finally David pulled from my mouth and pointing downwards sprayed his greasy mess all over my neck and breasts.  I must have looked terrible, encrusted in semen from my hairline to my nipples.

“Thank you, men, you may go about your duties,” said Sir Thomas and the men left with wide smiles on their faces.  He turned to us.

“You two make a fascinating matched pair.  Please remain that way till it is time to dress for dinner.  And Mrs. Jones, I am sure that Lady Caroline will want to inspect the house today and perhaps go for a walk in the gardens.  But first I would be so grateful if Miss Hailsham would do me the honour of making me a quick sketch portrait of her ladyship and her daughter.”  With that he left us for his own work.

In tears I sat for half an hour on the sofa beside my daughter as Miss Hailsham sketched our distressing condition.  For the first few minutes I could feel the men’s sperm slowly sliding down my face and dripping onto my breasts.  Some of it even slid into my cleavage and trickled down into my dress.  But after a while it stopped oozing and just began to dry into a sticky film over my features.  I had never felt more disgusting and dirty in my life.

When the sketch was done we were paraded about the house and grounds as walking obscenities.  It was supposedly in the nature of a tour of inspection, but in practice Mrs. Jones made sure that every one of the servants in the house saw us.  I had never felt more humiliated; I was sure that the footmen had told everyone what had transpired.  They could all see my displayed breasts and the white mess drying on them, on my face and in my hair.  We finished in the library, where my husband was poring over a large estate map.

“Well, ladies, you look lovely.  How about a walk in the gardens?”  And with that he swept us out through an opened window onto the terrace.

We walked through the gardens and the warm air completed the drying of the slime on my hair, face and bosom.  I could feel it beginning to crack and flake.  It itched and I wanted to peel it off but did not dare.

Sir Thomas held my hand and at one point said to me, “You look so beautiful like that, you should dress like that more often.”  It was so cruel and I hated him for it.

A little later he whispered to me, “You are the most exciting woman in the world, I wish I could fuck you right here and now.  Look how stiff my cock is.” 

I glanced down at the large bulge in his breaches and immediately my sex twitched in response.  I hated him for his unkindness and loved him for how desired he made me feel.  Lady Anne might indeed have controlled her husband during their marriage, but there was no doubt that now he controlled his second wife utterly.

Finally the promenade was over and Georgina and I were allowed to go bathe before dinner.  I sat in my bath and scrubbed my face, neck and breasts till they were pink.  I had Rose wash my hair twice to remove all traces of the terrible mess.  Even when I knew it was all gone I could still feel it there as if it had been seared into my skin.

I dressed for dinner in a beautiful gown to celebrate that my daughter would be dressed as a lady at dinner for the first time in weeks.  I was sitting at my dressing table and Rose was just piling my hair up in an elaborate arrangement when Sir Thomas came in from the adjoining room.  He looked elegant as always for dinner, but I was surprised as he never usually came in when I was dressing.

“Rosie, may I have a moment of your mistress’ time?”

Rose made to leave the room.

“No need for that, Rosie, I won’t be a minute.”  And he strode over to me, bent down and kissed me passionately on the lips. 

I flushed a little; I was not used to expressions of ardour from him in front of the servants.  What did he want?

He stood up again and undid his breaches.  His member was already half-erect and sprang forth. 

Oh, please, not that...  But his organ was at the precise height of my seated head and it was clear what he desired so I opened my mouth and took the head of him in.  I began to suck.  Please, I was thinking to myself, please don’t let him climax in my face.  I did not think I could stand to sit through dinner covered in his sperm.  Especially not if Georgina were there all beautifully dressed.

“Don’t suck, dear,” he commanded.

I just sat there with the head of him resting on my tongue, hot and heavy.  I could taste the maleness of him, that little dribble of liquid he gave off when excited.

“Look at me!”

I looked up along his chest at his smiling face.  What a sight I must have made sitting there, dressed for dinner and staring up at him with his big penis in my mouth.  I shivered at the image.

“I want you so badly, dear, that I considered ravishing you right here and now.  Instead I will content myself in sitting at dinner with the feeling of your lips around my cock.”  With that he pulled from my mouth, fastened his breaches around his stiff member and turning, left the room.

I sat there stunned as Rose came over and began to finish my hair.

All through dinner I could swear I could still feel him on my tongue.  I know that my sex oozed the entire time in anticipation of what he would do to me later.  And yet still it was a lovely meal.  Georgina looked radiant and beautiful in a yellow dress to match her hair.  She was vivacious and happy and we all danced attendance on her, even Miss Hailsham.

As we sat at breakfast, knowing that Lord Llanbedr was due to arrive in a few hours, I was luxuriating in that I would play Lady Dalrymple in full during the week he was here.  Miss Hailsham would just be the drawing tutor and Georgina would be the prospective bride.  Her hoped-for intended would stay for seven days and his parents, Viscount and Viscountess Hawarden, would join us for the last two days.  If all went well we might even seal the betrothal then.

“I hope you have devised a plan to land your young man, Miss Georgina,” said Sir Thomas.

Georgina blushed and looked at her plate.  “I think so, Sir Thomas.  Miss Hailsham has been helping me.”

Sir Thomas looked over at the governess and raised his eyebrows.

“I see no reason to tinker with a winning plan of campaign, Sir Thomas,” she replied sweetly, “Miss Georgina will tease her young swain and then find an appropriate moment to take her young beau aside somewhere private in the gardens and proceed to do unto him exactly what was done unto you by Lady Anne.”

Sir Thomas grinned.  “But unless Miss Georgina has been making every man in the house very happy, surely she lacks the requisite skill.”

“Mrs Shepherd has been most kind,” Miss Hailsham continued.  “She has supplied us with a variety of sausages of varying lengths, girths and firmness.  Miss Georgina has practised hard and, unless her young man is equipped in an exceptional fashion, I believe she is ready.”

Sir Thomas guffawed.  “And are you ready, Miss Georgina?”  He looked over at my blushing daughter.

“I think I am, Sir,” she whispered still looking at her plate.  Then she lifted her head up and looked straight at Miss Hailsham.  “Miss Helena, I mean Miss Hailsham, says I am.”

“Then I am sure you will do, dear stepdaughter.”

Lord Llanbedr turned out to be a charming young man, four years older than Georgina and handsome enough in an unprepossessing way.  He was no taller than Georgina and was of a slim build so that the two of them looked like a pair of poplars side by side.  They shared an interest in books, drawing and music and so had more than enough to discuss and do together.  Miss Hailsham was always there as a chaperone.  Knowing her predilections I could see there was no attraction of a physical nature on my daughter’s side, but there were enough hungry glances from his side to leave me in no doubt as to his admiration.  And Georgina could always find her satisfaction elsewhere as long as she did right by her husband.  I was more pleased than can be imagined.

On the day before his parents came we had a little fête champêtre in the sunken garden.  Two of the garden staff who were accomplished on the fiddle were hidden in a nearby bower and played country tunes, while the five of us dressed gaily and had our luncheon on the grass.  After a while Sir Thomas took me for a walk down towards the long drive.  There he pushed me against a tree and kissed me so fiercely that I was sure he was about to ravage me.  But no, after a few minutes he pulled me to him and we began to walk back, arm in arm.  I was sure my hair must be somewhat disordered; I know I was panting.  As we approached the sunken garden we met Miss Hailsham helped by the serving maid.

“Oh, Sir Thomas and Lady Caroline, I feel most unwell.  Would you mind helping me back to the house?”  She stumbled as we came close.

We assisted her back to the terrace and asked the maid to get her to her chamber.

By the time we returned to the remains of our lunch in the little garden, Lord Llanbedr was lying flat on his back on the grass with a look of utter amazement and satisfaction on his face.  Georgina was on one elbow looking down at him and teasing him under the chin with a buttercup. 

“My Lord, it reflects yellow so strongly you must love butter more than anything else!”  She had a look of twinkling triumph in her eyes.

“No, Miss Georgina, I could love nothing more than you.  Don’t tease me so.”

At this point Sir Thomas coughed and the young man shot up into a sitting position and dropped his hands to his lap as if his clothing might be misarranged there.  It wasn’t but the gesture was telling.

“A little more wine, Miss Georgina?” my husband said solicitously.

“Oh no, stepfather,” she replied coquettishly, “I still have a lovely taste in my mouth from the dessert!”

Lord Llanbedr’s face was the picture of rosy embarrassment, which we all feigned not to notice.

Viscount Hawarden arrived the next day and Lord Llanbedr took him aside almost before he had alighted from the carriage.  Within the hour he had visited both Miss Georgina to make his formal declaration and had been to see Sir Thomas to ask his permission.  The betrothal was announced at dinner.  My daughter was to be Lady Llanbedr and, in time, a viscountess.  My triumph could not have been more complete.

After dinner we ladies left to another room to discuss the plans for the nuptials.  The men remained to discuss business.

When they rejoined us my husband announced, “The Viscount and I have agreed that the wedding should be in the third week of September and that we should hold it here at Hirst Hall, in the chapel.  I realise that gives you ladies less than three months to prepare, but it seems cruel to keep such young people apart for too long.”  Lord Llanbedr once again went a trifle pink.

Later my husband informed me that the date was insisted on by Lord Hawarden as the next tranche of his mortgages was payable on the 1st of the month following the wedding and he wished to reduce the payments by reducing the principal with the thirty thousand pounds that would be paid on the consummation of the marriage.  Sir Thomas also told me that he had made it clear that the two thousand per annum to be paid to Lady Llanbedr would be paid to her account and not her husband’s.

The following two days were pleasant as we ladies happily discussed the wedding preparations while the men went out hunting and shooting.  I noticed that my daughter was the picture of propriety except that in the half-hour before her intended was due to depart she allowed herself to take a promenade through the gardens alone with her fiancé.  He returned looking a very happy young buck, she like a young lady who has learnt exactly how to control her man.

As the Hawarden carriage left down the sweeping front drive it passed a small pony trap coming the other way.  We were about to go back inside when Georgina gave a girlish squeal of delight.

“It’s Emma.  Mother, it’s Emma.”  Then she suddenly looked back up at the house, where Miss Hailsham was no doubt awaiting her and she looked nervous.

Miss Emma Missenden was not what I had expected.  She was darker than I had expected: her hair was almost raven coloured and her skin was had an olive hue as if she were from a Mediterranean country.  However she was entirely English, the poor scion of a good family who had been given an education at the discretion of a great-aunt, but who would now have to earn her living as a governess or a companion.

She and Georgina hugged and my daughter blurted out the news that she was to be married.

“But,” began Miss Missenden, “but then you will not need a companion.  Your letter informed me I was to come.  I am sorry to have not written back first.”

“Oh, but Miss Georgina will.”  I turned to see Miss Hailsham coming down the steps.  “Even when she is Lady Llanbedr, she will have need of a companion.”

Georgina blushed and looked down.

Miss Hailsham looked the newcomer up and down quite frankly.

“Emma, this is my drawing tutor, Miss Hailsham, Miss Helena Hailsham.  Miss Hailsham, this is my best friend, Miss Emma Missenden.”  My daughter was still slightly flushed.

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Emma.”

We went up the steps while footmen unloaded Emma’s trunk and as we ascended I heard my husband whisper to the governess.

“Is she, do you think?”

“It is hard to tell, Sir Thomas,” replied Miss Hailsham, “I will need to see her and Miss Georgina together.  Mrs. Jones will help.”

“Well, let me know when you do.”

“I’ll know by dinner, Sir Thomas.”  She sounded determined and I shivered inwardly on Miss Missenden’s behalf.

Sir Thomas headed off on his own business, I went to the Chinese Salon and the three women went off to the south wing.  I spent my time reading and writing and perusing the house accounts that Mrs. Jones had left for me.  I wondered what might be going on in the Old Nursery but did not dare intrude there for fear of what I might find.  But after some time I could stand it no longer and rang for a maid.  Mary appeared.

“Send word to Mrs. Jones in the south wing.  Ask her if my presence is required.”

Mary hurried away and in a few minutes Eliza appeared.  I noticed that while she had worn proper clothes during the visits of the Hawardens she had immediately reverted to the punishment dress on their departure.

“Your ladyship, Miss Hailsham says that, while your presence is not required, if you were to come it might help move events along.”  The girl looked and sounded nervous.

“Very well, Eliza, I shall come.” And I stood to follow her.

“Please, Lady Caroline, please may I have my clothes back.  Please?  I will be good.”  She was twisting her hands in her shortened skirt.

“Eliza, you may have your drawers back.  Tell Mrs. Jones.”  We were walking toward the south wing now.  “And you may have the remainder of your outfit in one week if you are good.”

“Thank you, your ladyship.  I will be good. Very good.”

“But do not forget what Sir Thomas said.  He never forgets an affront and if you misbehave he will have you buggered and in public.  Have you ever had a man?”

“No, Ma’am.”

“Well, believe me, Eliza, it hurts when you are taken in your bottom.  Especially the first time.”

We were there now and I took a deep breath as the maid opened the door to the nursery.

I entered looking as unconcerned as possible.  There was Miss Emma, naked and bound face down onto the sofa. Her face was turned towards the open door to see who entered.  Her fine bottom was striped with a dozen or more wheals, clearly applied by Mrs. Jones who stood behind the settee flexing a crop.  Miss Hailsham stood nearby with a kind smile on her face.  My naked daughter knelt on the carpet near her friend with her bottom on her heels and her hands in her lap.  She looked worried for her friend.

“Lady Caroline, help me,” cried out Miss Emma, “they are beating me.  Please.”  She sounded angry but more than that she was clearly terrified.  Her face was a mask of tears and spittle.

“Miss Hailsham, why are you having Miss Emma beaten?” I tried to keep my voice stern but fair.  The sight of another naked woman suffering as I had done was undeniably exciting though.

“Your ladyship, Miss Emma was asked to confirm whether she liked her kiss with Miss Georgina when they were at school and also to elucidate as to her feelings for members of her own sex.  She refused and was remarkably insolent.  It took quite an effort from all four of us to remove her clothing and have her bound to the sofa.  Mrs. Jones has just applied her first dozen strokes and I was just asking her to be so kind as to answer my enquiries.”  Miss Hailsham might have been discussing a pupil who had misconstrued a French irregular verb.

“Miss Emma, you are here as a companion to my daughter.  Sir Thomas has hired Miss Hailsham to act as tutor to young ladies here at the hall.  As such you are expected to follow her instructions as if they were my own.  Is that quite clear?”

“But... but... but, Lady Caroline,” the girl stammered, “Miss Hailsham asked indecent questions!”  She was staring at me open-mouthed now.

“Let me make it easy for you then, I shall ask.  Did you enjoy kissing my daughter and do you think that you would like to do it again now?”  I smiled at her in as encouragingly a manner as I could.

“You can’t ask that!  It is not right!”  The young lady was crying again and shaking her head as if to deny that the question had even been asked.

“Lady Caroline can ask what she likes, as can I.  You will answer politely and immediately.  Half-a-dozen more please, Mrs. Jones.”  Miss Hailsham’s voice never lost that sweet tone so perfect for young children.

“Nooo!  Aarghh!” The raven-haired tresses flew back and forth as Miss Emma shook her head furiously in response to the first of the new blows from the crop.  The howls and screams did not stop as the next five were cruelly applied.  Eliza brought me a chair and I sat facing the sofa.  I could see Georgina weeping as her friend suffered.

“Please, Emma,” she moaned, “please don’t fight them.  Just give in.  Tell them.”

I looked at the poor young woman’s bottom.  It was a sore sight now.  The first dozen had been laid in a row from the top of her bottom to the juncture with the thighs.  These next six were being applied at an angle across to form a diagonal grid.  The pain must have been intense and by the end Emma was begging for it to stop.

“Now, Miss Emma, answer Lady Caroline’s questions please.”  Miss Hailsham asked the sobbing and hiccoughing girl.  “No more prevaricating, if you please!”

The poor thing just moaned and shook her head.

“Ah well, another six please, Mrs.  Jones.  There always some slow learners in every class.”  Miss Hailsham actually managed to sound sorry for what she had just commanded.

“NOOO!  Please...  I will answer.”  The girl seemed beside herself.

“Come along then, quickly...  Or else...”

“I...  I... I don’t know if I liked the kiss.  It just happened.  And I don’t know...  I don’t know about Georgina.  I like her...  I like her but...  but...”  Her voice, barely audible to start with trailed off.

“But what, Miss Emma?” I asked as kindly as possible.

“But... but...” She tailed off again.

I looked pointedly at the housekeeper.

“But I like men too...”

It was my turn to be surprised.  Could one like both?  Miss Hailsham interrupted my thoughts.

“So you liked Miss Georgina kissing you?  But you also like men.  Have many kissed you?”

“No, Miss.  Just two.  I... I... mean just two kisses.  One from Georgina and one from Alan.”

“Alan?” Georgina sounded surprised.  “Alan who delivered the groceries to the school?”

Miss Emma nodded and blushed.

“How sweet,” said Miss Hailsham.  “Georgie, kiss Miss Emma.”

Georgina leant forward but Emma promptly buried her face in the sofa.

“Miss Emma, I will say this only once.”  Miss Hailsham sounded like a stern schoolmistress.  “If you do not do exactly as I say then I will ask Mrs. Jones to apply a half dozen more strokes for each failure to comply.  This will turn your arse into even more of a mess than it is.  As things stand you will not be able to sit for several days.  When we reach three dozen strokes on your backside I will flip you over and Mrs. Jones will stripe your tits.  Then will come your thighs.  I will have your absolute compliance sooner or later.  Now turn your face to Miss Georgina and let her kiss you.”

For a moment all we could hear were muffled racking sobs but then Emma turned her face towards her school friend.  It was blotchy and wet from crying.

Georgina leant in and took the poor girl’s face in her hands and then began to gently kiss her.  First little kisses all over her face before she began to concentrate on her lips.  Within minutes she was passionately kissing her open-mouthed and with her tongue questing deep in Emma’s mouth.  Her friend accepted it all, her eyes closed and resisting not at all.

“Stop now, Georgie,” said Miss Hailsham.

Georgina leant back; she was gasping and flushed.  Her nipples were as big and hard as buds about to burst into bloom. 

Emma lay there with her mouth open and her eyes screwed shut.  She too was gasping for air and letting off little moans.

“Open your eyes, Miss Emma, and look at me,” said Miss Hailsham firmly but not harshly.

Reluctantly the bound girl complied, blinking away tears as she sought the governess’ face.

“Now, young lady, we are going to unbind you.  When you are free you are going to lie down on the sofa and spread your legs as wide as you can.  Then Georgie here (she patted my daughter on the head) is going to suck your pussy till you come for us.  Then we will all be able to see how much you like women.  Is that agreeable?”

“Noooo.  I can’t, Miss... It’s not right!”  Emma was shaking her head and shivering violently.

“Six strokes please, Mrs. Jones,” Said Miss Hailsham calmly.

“Noooo...  Aarghh!”

Mrs. Jones had come round the near side of the sofa and began to lay the half dozen wheals across the poor girl’s bottom in the opposite diagonal to before leaving a diamond cross-hatched pattern on Emma’s very sore behind.  The poor thing howled and jerked frantically throughout.

“Thank you, Mrs. Jones. Her arse does look a state,” opined the governess. “Do you think she can take any more there?”

“Oh yes, Miss Hailsham,” replied the housekeeper enthusiastically.  “I can get six more on each of the diagonal patterns before I run the risk of breaking the skin.  After that we will have to flip her over and start in on her titties.”

“No... no... no...” whimpered the poor young woman.

“Now, Miss Emma, do you want to be untied so you can spread yourself for little Georgie’s tongue?  Or shall we have another six?  It is your choice, young lady.”

“No... no...”

“Ah well, it looks like six more, Mrs. Jones...”

“NO!  I’ll do it.  No more... please, no more!”

“Very well, Miss Emma.  But if you baulk now I shall have a full dozen applied next time.  Eliza, Georgie, undo her.”

Unbound the young woman slowly rolled herself over, groaning and wincing as her tenderised bottom made contact with the upholstery.  She lay there crying softly.  Despite her blotchy face she looked quite beautiful.  I saw that her breasts were full and of medium size, smaller than mine but much bigger than Georgina’s tiny ones.  Her bush was black and full and I wondered if Miss Hailsham planned to have her shaved.  Her hands came up and covered her breasts as if to protect them from Mrs. Jones who was ostentatiously flexing the crop. Slowly she let her legs fall open a little.

“Hush,” said my daughter tenderly as she leant in to kiss her friend, “let me.”  And she moved down and placed a kiss full on the furred mound.  Then gently but firmly she pulled her friend’s legs up and apart, opening her for her Sapphic attentions. 

“Salve please, Eliza,” she said and the maid hurried to get some.  Mrs. Jones remained there, a very visible insurance against backsliding, but Miss Hailsham drew up another chair and sat beside me to observe.  I wondered if her sex was as damp as mine.  I imagined it was.

When Eliza returned with the soothing lotion, Georgina began to run it over her friend’s cruelly damaged buttocks.  The poor girl moaned and winced and wept.

“Pull your legs up more, Emmie, I need to get all of you,” my child encouraged her friend. I saw how clever she was.  Soon poor Emma had pulled her legs right up so that her knees were near her breasts to allow the gently comforting fingers to rub salve into the entire area.  It allowed us to admire Mrs. Jones’ artistry with the crop.  The wheals were evenly spaced and of the same intensity.  It looked like a mathematical pattern sketched on human flesh.

When the rubbing was done Georgina’s mouth just lowered itself onto her school mate’s open and softly furred sex. 

There was a moan from Emma and one of her arms went up to cover her eyes.  But there was no resistance.  We all watched as my daughter’s skilful tongue set about exploring her friend. It teased and poked here and there. The moaning intensified.  Then her fingers joined in spreading Emma’s sex open to allow deeper access.  All too soon the hips were making little involuntary thrusting movements up against the sucking mouth.

“Oh! Oh! Ooooooh!”  It was clear that Emma had just climaxed in her friend’s mouth.

Georgina slowed but did not stop.  It was clear she would continue doing this until Miss Hailsham told her otherwise.

“Oh!  No...  No more... please.”  Emma’s voice was plaintive.

“Put down your arm, Miss Emma, and look at me,” said Miss Hailsham.  “And Georgie, slow down a little for now.”

Slowly the arm came down and wide-eyed the young lady looked at us surrounded by her disordered dark tresses.  She looked immensely lovely.  Lower down her sex was still being gently lapped at by her lover.

“Did you like that, Miss Emma?”

“Ye... Yerrs, Miss,” choked out the poor girl.

“Then you like Georgie sucking on your cunt?”

“Y...  Yes, Miss.”

“Say it then.  Tell Lady Caroline what you like her daughter to do to you.  Now!”

“I...  Oh God...  Lady Caroline, I like...  I like Georgina sucking on my...  on my...  my cunt!”

“Well done girl,” said the governess kindly.  “Georgina, bring her off again.  Quickly.  And then you’re done.”

My child raised her mouth and clamped it on her companion’s bud as a limpet clings to a rock.  Which was just as well as in a short while  Emma was thrusting her mound up into Georgina’s face and then letting out  wild cries of orgasmic pleasure.

“Pretty conclusive, wouldn’t you agree, your ladyship?” Miss Hailsham addressed me.

“I believe so.  I can’t imagine that Miss Emma will deny being a lesbian ever again.”

I looked over to where my daughter was lying between Emma’s spread legs with her head on her gasping friend’s stomach.  Her eyes were glazed with lust and the bottom of her face was wet with her lover’s dew.  She kept licking her lips unconsciously, but her gaze was fixed on Miss Hailsham.

“Yes, little Georgie, you’ve been a good girl.  Would you like a kiss?”  Miss Hailsham was teasing her now.

“Yes, Miss.  Oh, yes please!”  She began to scramble into a sitting position at the end of the sofa.

“Would you like it from me or Mrs. Jones?”

Georgina’s gaze flicked from one woman to the other.  She shivered as if the choice was hard to make.  “You please, Miss.  Please?”

Emma lay there watching, her legs now slowly coming together again as she rolled onto her side on the other end of the settee.  Her eyes followed as the governess stood and walked over to my daughter.

As I had seen before Miss Hailsham kissed first Georgina’s lips then her breasts and finally her sex.  The child squealed her way through several intense climaxes to the amazement of her friend curled up beside her.  When she was done and Georgina had collapsed next to Emma, Miss Hailsham wiped her mouth on a napkin and came to sit beside me once more.

“Tea, your ladyship?”

“That would be lovely.”  And I watched as Mrs. Jones with a glance sent Eliza hurrying away.

“May...  may  I dress?”  Emma’s voice was a quiet whisper.

“No.  You young ladies will have tea just as you are.”  The governess’ voice was matter-of-fact.

“Lady Caroline,” she continued, “I believe Miss Missenden will make an excellent companion for your daughter.”

“But I...  I...” began Emma uncertainly, “I don’t want her to be my mistress now.”

“Don’t be silly, little girl,” said Miss Hailsham with a giggle.  “She is not going to be your mistress; you are going to be hers!”