Chapter One June 15, 2007
Posted by saradelacour in : From The Manor House , trackback
Here we have for your reading pleasure the entirety of Chapter One. There is at the beginning a biologically amorous base considered by some more “normal”, before all of the many sexual proclivities and perversities are explored. Things can warm up quickly after that…
(From Anna’s Journal)
It’s really true! All the things Sofia told me early in the term weren’t just stories. She was the only friend I had here at this sinkhole of a school, with nothing but girls and all of them snotty. Well, I can hold my own in the attitude department, thank you! But it WAS nice having someone to talk with late at night. We swapped books, shared treats from outside, and eventually confidences. She didn’t tell me everything at first. In fact, I bet she left some things out, now that I know. At first we just talked about regular things: clothes, and boys, and kissing, and shoes, and movies, and boys…
She told me she had seen the stable boy pissing one day. She said his thing was in his hand like some fat sausage, and he squeezed it after he was done. She told me he was almost as big as some of the horses!
I was shocked that she would admit having noticed them, but I knew exactly what she meant. Three months later, when she left school suddenly, it was rumored she had been caught out by nature and by Matron–that Sofia and the stable boy had been caught rutting in the hay late one night, and that she was quite knocked up.
I could believe it, though none of the other girls said they did, but then, I had watched them do it several times before. The part I had a hard time believing was that she could take that much of his pole. It looked huge in the moonlight, even from where I sprawled hidden in concealment, watching them as I frigged myself, my wet slit drenching my busy fingers. He was very large, direct, and quick to the point, with few preliminaries. He seemed single minded in his pursuits, always flipping up her skirts and beginning to fuck, with a steady, muscled piston action that she willingly accepted! They had little time together, and HAD to be quick, poor things.
But on that last occasion, they were not quick enough it would seem. One of the girls overheard Matron telling Cook, or so the story goes (and luckily I was not spying on them on this occasion, or I would have been found out as well, caught with my hands in my knickers and a very wet spot!) She found them locked together like dogs, and she watched them for quite some while; she told Cook-he had a tool meant for bigger jobs, and she needed to observe for her report.
She waited till the boy began to buck and shake, pumping at Sofia’s bent and opened form like a maddened bull, and then she silently stepped out and smacked his exposed buttocks loudly and cruelly hard with her man-sized hand, the opened palm and fingers leaving bright red marks…or so I heard.
It coincided with his climax. He jerked even deeper inside poor Sofia, pinned there like a butterfly, naked in the hay this time (they were taking such a chance!) as she took his spray inside her, and then all over her backside and thighs as he was so rudely pulled from her. Being the big strong behemoth that Matron is, she marched them straight away to the Headmaster’s Office, not even allowing the tousled pair time to dress themselves.
There they were both chastised, and the stable boy was taken away by Matron; he was gone the next day, and has not returned. (It is too bad, as I was just beginning to think I would try the things Sofia suggested. She had urged me to study him much more closely, and had been so helpful in many ways. But it was not to be, and just as well, if he is so terribly fertile. Perhaps he’s being kept at stud like a breeding stallion somewhere; now there’s quite a fitting punishment!)
Sometimes I liked to think of him, somewhere, kept busy at his labors, kept hard and helpless, as girls surrounded him and pulled at his prong, while some of them held his hands and used them rudely to pleasure themselves, much as I was doing as these thoughts occupied my late night fancies. I have been doing it more often since watching those two rutting away. It was lovely, and I’m almost sorry he did not return. Sometimes at our lessons, I think about what it must be like, about how I would feel, being opened and filled up like that, being with a lover, being naked and so wantonly displayed, as was Sofia. She is very beautiful in her way. The boys all think so too. But they haven’t seen her naked, as I have, excepting, (of course) the stable boy. He’s the only one, at least she says it, and I do believe her.
As to Sofia herself–she told me what happened in breathless whispers the next day, her demeanor soft and languid with some great exhaustion. I had ditched French, which was easy to do when Mam’selle drinks like that the night before! It was in a stolen half hour after breakfast that we spoke, when Sofia had been returned to the dormitory, where she was waiting for the car to arrive and take her away…because she was indeed pregnant.
The Headmaster had talked to her for quite some time after the Matron had taken the stable boy away. She was made to stand there, naked to his gaze, hands clasped behind her at the waist, feet a little apart and terribly open to his examination. She was pale and terrified, marked only a little by the attentions she had previously received: her breasts a little reddened from the boy’s rough fingers, and from rubbing the harsh wool blanket when he had mounted her from the rear and plowed her like the farm boy he was.
Of course her lips were a little bruised from hurried kisses. Her mound though was quite swollen and still red, from the friction of his shaft as he plumbed her depths. She reeked of her own arousal and the slick, still wet coating of his potent sperm. It dripped slowly down her thighs, and made her feel so whorish and ashamed.
The Headmaster would not let her close her legs. He looked at the gleaming skin there and smiled as he met her eyes. She blushed vividly as he continued to look at her silently, his eyes taking in every detail, and knowing exactly what they told of her activities. She had been very naughty, this little naked nymph. He told her so.
He took her to a little examination room, and probed her deeply, proving that she had indeed given herself up to a thorough fucking earlier. She was horribly embarrassed, as the boy’s come slid down her naked limbs, and her own wetness increased in a flow as he worked her squishy cunt with his fingers while she stood bent at the waist, arms resting before her on a leather doctor’s table.
She said he made her lie down, her back on the high narrow table and spreading her legs far apart. He made her hold herself wide open to him as she lay blushing deeply, mortified. She had to hold her knees as far apart as she could and up to her chest. If she did not, he said he would use the restraints, and bind her in place like that. Sturdy leather straps that were made to hold difficult patients in place were there in several places along the table’s length, and so she felt she must obey.
She moaned slightly as she told me. Her breathing was quick, and she seemed almost agitated as she spoke.
She said he examined her for a LONG time, with his fingers and with some sort of metal and rubber instruments. He asked deeply personal questions the whole time as he touched her, and pinched her, and rubbed her stretched skin there in her most intimate places. He made her answer completely and in lurid detail, though she could barely speak.
Had she taken the boy’s thick cock in her mouth? Kissed and sucked it? Yes, she had. Her whole body blushed and spasmed as she admitted it. (I knew she had done it, as I had seen her try to engulf that monstrous thing before he slid it between her legs. Her oral attentions had made his cock grow even more alarmingly red and turgid.) Had she tasted his come, drunk it down and swallowed? Had she taken him in her ass, while on her knees and spread like the loose woman she so obviously was? Did she come while he stuffed her full of his meaty rod and sprayed her womb with his seed? Was she ready for more? Did she dream of it? Her cunt was so very wet that she must be a natural born receptacle for cock, and for semen. He said all these wicked things to her quite matter-of-fact in tone, and she told me that it made her feel very strange. She was also very aroused, and ashamed of it.
“You desired it, did you not?” he had said. He had made her answer him with words, as well as with the obvious and visible responses of her body.
As he said these awful things and made her answer, he worked his one hand in circles on her exposed mound, there at the “v” of her legs. The fingers of the other hand left off exploring her sodden pussy and slowly exposed that other hole. She said he put his come-wetted finger in her there. He pushed it in and out, so very deeply–so slowly, she felt she couldn’t breathe, or think. First one finger, then two! Then he seemed to go a little crazy–he put his mouth on her! He did things that made her writhe and scream, though no one heard anything.
She said that parts of it were incredible, and it seemed to last for hours. It was as though they were there forever. She lay there, exposed and passive on that leather table, and he licked and sucked at her until she seemed to faint. Even then, he continued to touch her, and keep the hard little button inflamed and trembling under his insistent fingers.
He had told her that her she WAS indeed pregnant. He could tell from her insides, he said, already beginning to swell a bit, if you knew where to look. She said he pinched her hard then, right on her cunny, cruelly squeezing the little pearl where it hid beneath its hood. He made her get up from the table, and he pushed her down across his wool clad thighs. A strict, old-fashioned over-the-lap spanking followed, first with his hand, and then still more with a paddle. The wood and rubber made a terribly loud noise, and it hurt like blazes, she told me. But her voice was dreamy and filled with remembered pleasures as well.
He teased her quivering flesh with soft strokes and caresses in between. Then he used his hand again, so hard on her abused globes. He made her stand in the corner, her wrists clasped behind her head and held there, her flaming bottom exposed to him, her sticky thighs widely parted. She stood silently, her posture causing her breasts to jut out before her, the nipples like cherries begging to be picked, as he made all the arrangements. She would be leaving, going to some sort of Mother’s Home on a wholesome Farm that would be more suitable for her needs than private girls’ finishing school. He stared directly at her as he spoke to others about her, telling them she was a naughty girl, who needed strict observation and discipline to keep her in line, as she was wanton. Indeed, she was a vixen, who seduced the stable lads.
She cried a bit at the unfairness of that, for it had only been ONE lad, only one, and they were in love…she thought. But she remained standing before the headmaster, and she was secretly pleased to feel the caress of his eyes on her body as he spoke. Then he finished with the orders, and called her to him. She walked slowly to where he stood, bringing her tired arms down, and demurely placing them to hide what he had already so thoroughly viewed and felt. He would have none of it. She was made to stand by him with her hands at her side, that he might see her ass or her pussy, quite close, with her sweet jugs above. She wondered when he would allow her to dress…and where were her clothes? He would not allow it just yet, it seemed. He made her turn that he might study the color that stained her white bottom. He spoke again, as he touched her lightly there, and said she would be taken to a place meant for such as she. Sofia would get all that she needed there.
But before he released her to pack and await transport, she was going to have to face facts a bit more. She would have to take her punishment for the crime of being caught fornicating with the help.
How tawdry, he’d called it. He said she was VERY naughty, and naked, and reeking of the lust she’d inspired in her own loins and in the stable boy. He said she’d enjoyed tarting around the barn naked, did she? She obviously responded sexually to that, and even to his examination of her. She was so complete in her arousal-the wet state of her slit proved that, as did her flush, her erect nips. And her movements when he touched her proved it as well. They all went to show that she was far along the path of lascivious behavior, and that she needed to feel the impact of her actions. She needed to feel the impact of more than that. Naughty students at HIS school took the cane. She’d been warned before, hadn’t she? Poor Sofia could only nod slowly in agreement.
She tried to plead, to distract him with her mouth and other charms, but he was quite unmoved. She had TAKEN her spanking like a good girl, she told him, begging now, pleading for leniency. It was not enough though, for a bad girl such as she. They both knew it.
He bound her hands to an overhead hook, still naked and helpless, ass still heated from the spanking she had just endured while splayed across his firm thighs, and his hands began to stroke and squeeze the flesh she was so obviously willing to offer up to stable boys. He pinched and pulled her nipples roughly, telling her of the changes her body would face in the next months. Her breasts would swell, he could tell they were already changing. Then he began to suck the reddened nubs, so erect in the cool early morning air, and she felt a line of fire run from her titties to her womb, while the sensation jumped inside her as she gasped and swayed.
He told her that her body KNEW–her titties knew– they would need to be sucked, often and hard, to ready them. They would become so very sensitive, so full and milk laden. He stroked the slight round of her warm belly as he spoke, working downward, making her aware of her own sensations. He cruelly brought her almost to the brink of spending again and again, but would not allow it. She was shivering and pressing herself onto his hand, riding it like a mindless bitch in heat.
That’s when he made her take five hard strokes with his bamboo cane. He did it slowly. He spaced them out deliberately, like lightning that struck again and again, biting and licking the full cheeks, alabaster flesh already overly stimulated and his fingers moving in circles on her soaked clit between the strokes. She said the pain was awful, it was more than she could stand–terrible!
But the WORST part was being made to come while he did it. After the last two strokes, he used one hand to trace the lines, and one to make her come, again and again, like an earthquake, she said, as she wailed and shook and pled for mercy. She had become hysterical as he kissed the welts, running his tongue along the heated flesh, then gave her five more, five searing strokes that made her scream like an animal. He left her there, shaking and dripping, until Matron returned with her discarded clothes from the barn.
They wouldn’t let her wash. All would be taken care of at The Farm, Matron told her, looking unbearably righteous and smug. Sofia was made to wait in a spare room until all the other girls were in class for the morning, then she was brought to the dormitory to pack.
She was still shaking as she told me her barely credible story.
I didn’t believe the part about the Headmaster. So I made her show me.
“Prove it!” I said, and made her bend over the thin hard mattress. She whimpered very slightly as she assumed the position. I raised the thin cotton skirt up slowly, revealing a once-fresh pair of white schoolgirl panties. I pulled them gently down, but even that much irritation caused her to wince and begin to tremble even harder.
Poor Sofia! I gazed at her white bum, laced with crimson welts that were fading but still quite visible. She would feel the car ride the whole way there, and tomorrow she would still know it. I couldn’t help myself as I watched her tiny motions, gazing at the girlflesh before me, with its violated rosebud and split-fruit cleft…still so very juicy, with dried semen like lace on her skin. My fingers traced the lines of the Headmaster’s discipline, and the catch in my friend’s breath as her sighs deepened shocked me. What shocked me more was my desire to have seen it all occur, and the effort it took not to bring my hand down hard on that red patch, where his handprint lingered.
I felt feverish. So did she. Her ass was very hot to the touch as I ran my palm over it softly. There was a noise–even above the rushing in my ears I could hear it–and Sofia stood up quickly, her face pale and eyes puffy from tears shed hours before, and those to be shed now that she was leaving. Matron stood there, her little eyes even more suspicious than usual as she saw me there with Sofia. She stared at us both and sniffed the air quite loudly, looking pointedly at Sofia, who blushed from the roots of her hair on down. I just stared back at Matron. I boldly stated I was just fetching my book for French Class. She didn’t believe me for a moment.
“Get it…and Go!” she spat at me, and turned her calculating gaze upon my friend. “It’s time for you, Sofia,” said Matron, never one to mince words or waste them on the lower forms. Sofia picked up her one bag, containing her books and personal possessions. She darted to my side and hugged me hard and kissed me full on the mouth, then moved to follow Matron’s order. I heard her whisper– or thought I did–
“I won’t forget you, Anna!” And she was gone!
It’s been two weeks. I haven’t heard from Sofia, though I pestered and begged Matron and FINALLY got an address to write to my poor dear friend there at the Mother’s Home. I had to rub Matron’s big old feet for three nights to get it. Ugh! But SHE quite liked it, and I got what I wanted. There was only a little trouble about my missing part of French class that day. Matron must not have mentioned seeing me. Perhaps there’s some soft underbelly to the old cow after all!
I keep having these thoughts. Daydreams–dreams at night too. All of them are about the things Sofia told me…and I’ve started to look at the Headmaster much differently. Sometimes when he looks at me, I start to tremble and get a warm deep glow in the pit of my belly. He seems so cold and stern, so learned and controlled. He is so different from the rude young boys. Yet I know what he did with Sofia; not cold at all! I think about it happening to ME…not just once, but over and over! I have to touch myself every night now and sometimes during the day. Otherwise I’m afraid I would be caught rubbing on the furniture like Aunt Ethelred’s cat!
I think someone was in the shadows watching me last night. All the others were asleep, but it felt as though eyes were on me as I squirmed and arched on the bed, my hand not NEARLY what I wanted, but having to do, as it is all that I have. I wonder–was it Matron? Or someone else? Did whoever it was like seeing me come? I did it twice, as I was so very frustrated. I kept thinking of things like what I’d seen-Sofia so lewd and luscious in the barn, and the stable boy so strong and determined. She would play coy at first, but soon he would have her skirt up and her panties down…Or even naked! Then he would pursue her in the afternoon quiet, till he had caught her and made her take his member out, releasing it from his blue and work-stained trousers, and he would fuck her senseless.
Or I would think of what the Headmaster had done, of seeing my dear friend tremble and arch under his care as he diddled her, as he spanked her. I even thought of it all happening to me. I think I began to want it to happen to me. I would explode with a violent climax when I touched my little clit and thought of these things, late while the others slept, close but unseeing as they dreamed of more innocent things.
Lately I roll the waistbands of this stupid uniform skirt until it’s too short and the teachers frown. I sewed the blouse seams over so that it fits tighter now. I seem to have lost the top two buttons. It is a hideous little girl’s outfit, complete with cotton stockings and Mary Jane shoes. I want to wear grownup clothes and be glamorous, not stuck here. But I’ll show them. They can make me wear little girl clothes, but I’m NOT a child, and I’ll prove it to them! The two other male teachers who are here on occasion have noticed, and I like the attention! They truly choked hard when I leaned over a bit and showed my panties as I “dropped” my pencil. I think the Headmaster was watching too. I rolled my hips a bit as I walked away. What if I hadn’t worn my panties? Then they WOULD have been shocked! Too bad the stable boy still hasn’t been replaced.
But soon, very soon, the term will end and I’ll be OUT OF HERE! I’ll find somewhere I’m appreciated!
Comments»
Fantastic reading, very erotic. Thank you for sharing it! I found it engaging and refreshingly well written. A total turn on for me - (a heterosexual female sub spanking freak!)