– The choice of a profession.
– The struggle to be silent.
– How Anna lee stole the watch.
– Horsed and birched.
– The man who looked on.
– Blood on a bottom.
– The effects of the birching view.
– Lucy the housemaid.
– An enjoyable encounter. short and sweet.
– “Frank” puts a few questions.
And now, to avoid unduly lengthening this veracious record of events, I will pass over a period of many months; resuming the thread of my story at the time when “Frank” had reached the age of seventeen-and-a-half years.
She had attained her full height, which was five feet, five inches; she was prettier than ever, and her figure was well developed.
I could vouch for the lower half of her body, but I had not as yet seen the upper half naked.
Being now quite “grown up,” she always wore coats with long tails, and as she made a very good-looking young “man,” I often noticed my parlour maids casting admiring glances at “Mr. Francis,” as she was now called by the servants.
I always treated her as a lad, and had never allowed her to suspect that I had discovered her secret, as I was determined to wait until she herself made known her sex to me I felt sure she would tell me some day; and then, most likely something would happen.
I was now really fond of her, and I could quite plainly see that she loved me, for she showed her affection in many little feminine ways, of which she was unconscious, but which would certainly have betrayed her secret, had I not already known it.
During the period which had passed, I had often been away from home, occasionally for a month at a time; but “Frank” had always remained at Oakhurst, never manifesting the least desire to leave the old place, even for a day.
She had no girlish accomplishments, but she was fairly well-read, and on the whole, better educated than nine out of ten girls of her age; and though I no longer set her lessons, I still kept her under discipline, taking her across my knees, and spanking her, whenever her conduct gave me a reasonable excuse for doing so. And she was occasionally very wilful.
And I must confess, that now she was a full-grown, well-developed young woman, I enjoyed, more than ever, taking down her trousers, and reddening her broad, plump bottom.
I never spanked her severely, though I always took care to bring a blush to the white cheeks, and the smart was sufficient to cause the tears to rise to her eyes, and to make her squirm a little against my stiff prick; the friction invariably giving me extreme pleasure.
Big as she was, she never made the least objection to my taking her across my knees, and she did not appear to mind the punishment much.
Moreover, with the quick instinct of a woman she had, of late, seemed to divine that I liked spanking her; and I really think that she now and then behaved wilfully, merely that I might have a reason for whipping her.
But it never seemed to strike her, that a young man between seventeen and eighteen years of age would never have allowed me to spank him like a child.
She was not very consistent in her impersonation of a young gentleman.
I do not know whether she had ever spanked any more little boys, but I dare say she had; for when the desire to inflict corporal punishment is once raised in a person, male, or female, the passion generally remains.
And she certainly was possessed of the desire at the time she had spanked little Tom.
She had quite lost her rather imperious way of dealing with the servants, and they had all become devoted to her; especially my own man Wilson, who somewhat neglected me, while he looked carefully after everything belonging to “our young gentleman,” as he called “Frank when speaking to her.
I sometimes felt rather disturbed at the thought of the scandal that would arise if the girl’s secret was discovered; and it might be discovered at any moment.
How the ladies, young and old, in the neighbourhood would talk about me, and lift up their hands in horror at the idea of my having kept for three years at Oakhurst, a young girl dressed up in boy’s clothes.
I do not much care what people say about me; but for the sake of a quiet life, I did not want my neighbours to find out anything about “Frank.” Of course, I should eventually have to send her away from Oakhurst, but I intended always to take care of her.
In the meantime, she amused me, and I was looking forward to the moment, when, all disguise thrown off, I should clasp her in my arms and embrace her as a woman should be embraced by a man.
There is a proverb which says, “everything comes to him who waits.”
I had waited a long time, but I did not think I should have to wait much longer.
The girl was certainly fond of me, her temperament was warm, she liked to touch me, and when she was sitting on a stool beside me, she often glanced up in my face with a yearning look in her pretty blue eyes.
All these little signs were significant, and I was almost certain that she would have let me do anything I liked to her.
But, before I touched her, I wanted her to tell me, of her own accord, that she was a woman.
Although she had as yet never hinted at her true sex, she, with a curious perversity, always seemed to be annoyed when I talked to her as man to man; and one night, out of mischief, I teased her so much, that she was on the point of declaring herself.
We were sitting in the drawing-room after dinner, and I said: “Frank, you are now a young man, and you should be thinking of taking up some profession. I will do all that is necessary in regard to money. What would you like to be? You are too old for the army; but there is the law, the church, and the medical profession. Which of the three will you study for?”
“Oh,” she exclaimed, turning quite pale, “I don’t know I have never thought about anything of the sort. I have been so happy here with you.”
“What! in spite of all the spankings?” I said, with a laugh.
She smiled faintly.
“Yes, in spite of the spankings I don’t mind them much; and you never give me one unless I deserve it.”
I again laughed, saying: “No, I don’t think I do, And I am very pleased to have you with me We get on together very well.”
“Then let me stay with you,” she put in, quickly.
“But I may get married some day, and then all our old habits would have to be changed, and you might feel discontented. That is why I think you had better adopt some profession, so as to become to a certain extent independent.”
The idea of my marrying seemed to move the girl deeply; she coloured up, her lips trembled, and she looked at me with a most pathetic expression in her eyes.
“Oh, dear me!” she said in a broken voice. “I never thought of that. Oh, what shall I do!” she added, bursting into tears.
I was sorry I had agitated the girl, but I laughed, saying in a bantering way: “You silly lad. You are too big to cry like that.One would think you were a girl.” She looked at me, with the big tears running down her cheeks, and said: “Oh I know I ought not to cry; but I can’t help it. I, -I am”-she stopped suddenly and buried her face in her handkerchief.
I thought I had pushed the joke far enough; so, I told her not to cry; that after all, there was plenty of time to think over the matter, and that she need not bother herself about it for the present.
She seemed to be satisfied with what I had said; and she dried her eyes, smiling gratefully at me, and in a short time she was chatting and laughing merrily.
She was a light-hearted creature, who evidently thought that “sufficient for the day is the evil thereof.”
She played a game of chess, and afterwards she read to me for some time; then we parted for the night, with the secret still untold.
A fortnight passed without anything happening worth recording. Then certain events occurred, the details of which I will relate, though “Frank” had no part in the affairs.
One morning, just after breakfast, I was in the hall, fixing on one of the panels a number of Eastern weapons; when a young girl came in, bringing me a note from one of my neighbours, who had left it at the lodge with orders that it should be taken to me at once.
The girl, named Anna Lee, was fifteen years old; she was a friendless waif who had been left in the village by a band of gipsies, five or six years previously; and she would have been sent to the workhouse, had it not been for the charity of my lodge-keeper, Mrs. Grove, who took the deserted child into her cottage, and had kept her ever since. The note required an answer; so, telling the girl to wait in the hall, I went up to the library to write a reply.
I hastily scribbled a few lines, and then I went back to the hall, gave the note to Anna, and told her to take it to its destination without delay.
She went away and I finished arranging the trophy of arms; then I went to the little table on which I had placed my watch before beginning my work. I looked about carefully, but the watch was not to be found.
It was a massive, old-fashioned, gold lever, which had belonged to my father, consequently I valued it very highly.
As no one had been in the hall but Anna Lee, I felt quite certain that she had stolen the watch.
I was very angry, and at once made up my mind to go after the girl, hoping to be able to catch her before she had time to hide her booty; so, without saying anything to my servants, I started off.
Hurrying down the avenue, I passed through the lodge-gates out on to the road, and looked up and down it, but the girl was nowhere in sight; so, I thought I had better go back to the lodge and speak to Mrs. Grove.
She received me with great respect and ceremony, ushered me into her neat little sitting-room, and made me sit in the best chair, while she stood before me, waiting to hear what I had to say.
Mrs. Grove was about forty-five years of age; a good-looking buxom woman, whose husband had been lodge-keeper; and on his death I had allowed her to remain in charge of the lodge, as she was quite capable of performing all the duties of lodge-keeper, with the assistance of her grown-up daughter.
Mrs. Grove had been born and brought up on the estate, so she was devoted to me, and to everything connected with Oakhurst.
I told her what had happened, and asked her to keep an eye on Anna’s proceedings, and if possible, find out what she had done with the watch.
The worthy woman was quite concerned on hearing of my loss, and she was furious with Anna, who was, she said, a naughty, troublesome girl in every way.
Then, she went on: “Anna may not have hidden the watch anywhere as yet; perhaps she has got it on her person; so when she comes back I will search her, and if I do find the watch, I will give her the soundest birching she has ever had in her life-and she has had many a one from me.”
I smiled at the emphatic way she spoke, thinking to myself that if the watch was found on Anna, she would get her bottom well warmed.
Mrs. Grove continued: “If you have time, sir, I should like you to wait and see what happens, and if I have to birch the girl, I should very much like you to be present.
I think it would be a bit of satisfaction to you to see her well whipped for all the bother she has given you.”
I was rather surprised at Mrs. Grove offering to let me see her birch the girl, but I was delighted with the offer; for since I had become a “lover of the rod,” I had often had a wish to see a girl birched, and now there was a chance of my wish being gratified.
It would be deliciously exciting to watch a bottom, that I had never seen before, reddening under the strokes of a birch-rod wielded by a buxom woman.
My cock began to stiffen at the thought!
I said that I would wait and see the affair out, whatever happened; then I added: “I have no doubt that Anna is the thief, but if she has not got the watch in her possession when she comes back, we can do nothing.
We cannot birch her without proof that she has stolen the watch.”
“No, sir, I suppose not,” said Mrs. Grove in a tone of regret.
She had hardly finished speaking, when we heard the outer door opened, and then closed, as the girl entered the cottage.
Mrs. Grove called her, and she came into the little parlour, jauntily, but when she saw me, she started and looked rather uneasy for a moment; then she informed me that she had delivered the letter.
Anna Lee, as I have before said, was a little over fifteen years of age, a well-grown sturdy wench, not bad-looking, but her face had a saucy expression; she had a dark, olive complexion; black hair; and bold, black eyes; very white teeth; and red lips.
She was supposed to have gipsy blood in her, and she certainly looked as if she had. She was neatly dressed in a cotton frock, with a white apron, and on her head, she wore a linen sun-bonnet with scarlet ribbons.
Altogether she was a nice morsel for the birch. She took off her bonnet, and was about to quit the room, when she was stopped by Mrs. Grove; who did not waste words, but at once came to the point. She said: “You were up at the house a short time ago.
The master’s watch was stolen out of the hall I believe you stole it.
I am going to search you.” So, saying, she caught hold of Anna, who was so taken aback that she never even denied the charge, but stood perfectly still during the whole time she was being searched.
Mrs. Grove first felt in the girl’s pocket; then she passed her hand down the girl’s arms to see if the watch was hidden in her sleeves; then unfastening the front of her dress, she thrust her hand down her bosom, but she did not find the object of her search.
So, I began to think that Anna had not got the watch on her person, and consequently that I should not have the pleasure of seeing her bottom whipped.
But Mrs. Grove had not finished her search; and much to my surprise, she put both her hands up under the girl’s clothes, and after a little groping, cried out in a tone of triumph, “I’ve got it, sir!” at the same time producing the watch, which Anna had managed to stow away in some of the mysterious recesses of her underclothing.
The culprit, thus caught almost red-handed, did not say a word.
She turned a little pale, a sullen expression came to her face, and she stood twisting the hem of her apron between her fingers.
“Now, you hussy!” said Mrs. Grove, “you shall catch it! I’ll make your bottom smart, you horrid young thief.”
Then, going to the door, she called out to her daughter: “Come here, Fanny, and bring the rod with you.”
The girl’s black eyes flashed, and she darted a look of hatred at Mrs. Grove, saying, sullenly: “It is not right that I should be flogged before a gentleman.”
“Hold your tongue, you bad girl! You ought to be publicly flogged in the middle of the village!” said Mrs. Grove angrily.
At that moment, Fanny came into the room, carrying in her hand a formidable looking birch-rod, which she placed on the table. This rod was much longer, and bigger in every way than the one I had used on “Frank.”
Fanny was about twenty-three years old; a tall, strapping, broad-shouldered country lass, as strong as an average man.
Her mother briefly told her what Anna had done; adding: “I am going to flog her soundly. Take her up, and mind you hold her fast.”
Fanny glanced at me, blushing a little, but said quietly: “All right, mother; I’ll hold her tight. This will not be the first time I have hoisted her for you.”
She seized Anna’s wrists, turned half round, and swung the big girl easily up on her broad back; then slightly separating her feet, and bending well forward, she brought the culprit’s body into a curved position, with her bottom well thrown out, at a most convenient angle for receiving the punishment.
Mrs. Grove stepped forward, and rolled the girl’s skirt up to her shoulders, doing the same with her petticoats and chemise, which, though coarse, were clean; then she carefully pinned up all the garments in such a way that they could not fall down while the culprit was being birched.
As Anna wore no drawers, she was now naked from her waist to the tops of her stockings.
For her age, she was remarkably well developed; her bottom was broad and fleshy-there was plenty of room for the birch to play on- her thighs were large, and she had rather thick legs, which were encased in white cotton stockings, gartered above her knees with black ribbons.
Her skin, clean, and wholesome-looking was of an olive tint, rather coarse in texture, but quite smooth; and I at once noticed that both of her round, plump buttocks were marked with faint, pink lines, evidently the traces of a flogging which had been inflicted not many days previously.
Mrs. Grove rolled up her sleeve, displaying a muscular arm; then, taking up the rod, she lightly touched the girl’s bottom with the end of the twigs, pointing out the pink marks on her skin, saving: “There, sir. Those are the marks left by a birching I gave the wicked girl, only three days ago, for being saucy to me.”
A slight shudder passed over the culprit, as she felt the birch touching her bare flesh, but she did not utter a word.
“How many strokes shall I give her, sir?” asked Mrs. Grove, as she drew the rod through the fingers of her left hand, so as to separate the bristly twigs.
My eyes were fixed on the girl’s fat bottom. I was greatly excited, and I had a stiff prick, so that it was as much as I could do to preserve a calm, judicial demeanour while I replied to the question.
“I think that eighteen strokes will be sufficient, if you lay them on well.”
Mrs. Grove smiled, saying: “Never fear, sir. I will lay them on in a way that will astonish her.She is going to get a birching such as she has never had in her life before.”
Anna moved uneasily on her “horse’s” back!
Raising the rod high in the air, the woman laid on the first cut with considerable force.
Anna’s plump flesh quivered involuntarily, and long purplish streaks at once showed on her olive skin: she gave a convulsive start, contracted the cheeks of her bottom, threw back her head with a jerk, and drew her breath through her teeth sharply, with a hissing sound.
Again and again, the stinging rod swept through the air, falling with a loud-sounding “swish” on the culprit’s writhing bottom; the sharp pain seemed to take her breath away; she gasped, and made a gurgling noise in her throat; clenching her teeth so tightly that I could see the outline of her jaws through her cheeks, while the tears streamed from her eyes, but she did not scream.
Swish! Swish! Swish! She could no longer suppress her cries, and a long, shrill shriek followed each slashing scored on her red buttocks.
Swish! Swish! Swish! Mrs. Grove birched slowly, pausing between each cut, so that the culprit felt the full sting of the stroke, before the next one was applied.
She roared, and begged for mercy, and she struggled and plunged so violently, that Fanny, strong as she was, staggered once or twice.
Swish! Swish! Swish! Swish!
Her bottom was rough with weals, scarlet in colour, and speckled with livid dots.
Screaming loudly, and entreating to be let off, she drew up her legs, and kicked them about in all directions, and arching her loins, she twisted her body from side to side, so that I occasionally caught sight of her small cunt, which was just beginning to be fledged with curly, black hair; and I noticed that the little, pink lips were gaping slightly, as if mutely sympathising with the smarting bottom.
Swish! Swish! Swish! Swish! The rod rose and fell, slowly and relentlessly; the girl’s shrieks became piercing. She struggled hard, kicking vigorously, and a few small drops of blood appeared on each cheek of her crimson bottom.
Swish! The last cut fell on the quivering flesh of the shrieking girl: and Mrs. Grove, putting down the rod, wiped her hot face with her apron.
Then she unpinned the girl’s clothes, letting them fall down over her scarified bottom; which had looked very much like a great plum-pudding. Fanny let go the victim’s wrists, and she stood on the floor, crying, twisting herself about, and actually dancing with the smarting pain of her well-birched bottom.
Mrs. Grove smiled grimly, saying: “There, Anna, I don’t think you will steal anything the next time you are sent to the house on a message. Go away.”
The sobbing girl, with pain-drawn, scarlet face, trembling lips, and cheeks furrowed by tears, limped stiffly out of the room, with her hands pressed to her sore bottom.
I glanced at Fanny, noticing that she was smiling, and that her eyes were sparkling; but when she saw me looking at her, she became grave, and blushed; then taking up the rod, she hastily left the room.
Mrs. Grove turned to me, saying: “Well, sir, I hope you are satisfied with the flogging I gave Anna. She will remember it for some time. She won’t be able to sit down comfortably for days.”
I was now more excited than ever, and I had some difficulty in preventing myself showing my feelings, but I told Mrs. Grove, as calmly as possible, that I was perfectly satisfied, and also much obliged to her for the trouble she, had taken.
Then I left the lodge, filled with an intense desire; for, strange to say, I had been more inflamed by the sight of the whipping I had just seen inflicted, than I ever had been when whipping “Frank.” The punishment had been so severe; the agonized contortions of the girl’s naked body had seemed to me voluptuous: the quivering of her flesh; and the appearance of her blood-spotted bottom; the occasional glimpses of her little gaping cunt.
All these things had set my blood on fire; my cock felt as if it would burst, and my balls ached. I hurried back to the house, went up to my bedroom, shut myself in, without taking notice of anything, and threw myself into an easy-chair; my tool still in full erection.
Then I saw that one of the housemaids, named Lucy, was in the room, dusting it.
She was about twenty-five years old, a good-looking, and very plump young woman, with a quantity of dark brown hair, and big, hazel eyes.
She had been a little startled by my very abrupt entrance, and she stood gazing at me.
I, in my turn, gazed at her; and very “fetching” she looked to me, at that moment, in her clean, well-fitting, pink cotton dress, which showed off the swelling contours of her full bosom, and the breadth of her hips.
It had hitherto been my rule never to take liberties with my female servants; not, I must say, from any moral scruples, but simply because I thought the practice dangerous, and likely to lead to trouble of all sorts.
Moreover, I am fastidious, and servant girls are not always so clean, either in person, or linen, as they should be.
But now, my standing prick made me forget everything but the fact that I wanted a woman; and as there was one in the room, I determined to make an attempt on her virtue.
I knew nothing whatever about her; she might be a virgin, or she might not. If she was a virgin, she would soon repulse me; if she was not, she would most likely let me “have her.
All these thoughts passed rapidly through my head as I looked at the trim housemaid. “Lucy,” I said, “you are a very pretty young woman.”
She looked surprised, for I had never made such a remark to her before; then she simpered, seemingly pleased with the compliment. I then went boldly up to her, put my arm round her waist, and pressed my mouth on her red lips, in a hot kiss.
She struggled a little, but I noticed that she did not blush, or seem at all frightened at my sudden assault, so giving her another kiss, I sat down on a chair, and pulled her on to my knees.
She resisted in a half-hearted way, saying: “Let me go, sir! Let me go!” But I held her round the waist with one arm, and kissed her warmly, at the same time feeling the outlines of her bubbies through her dress.
Then I slipped my hand under her petticoats, and took hold of the calf of her leg; this made her struggle a little more, and she exclaimed: “Oh, don’t do that, sir! Take away your hand! I won’t allow you to do that!” But as she made no violent effort to escape, I pushed my hand further up her clothes, and opening the slit of her drawers, I thrust my hand between her closely-shut thighs, and with my forefinger, tickled the “pleasurable spot,” which was thickly covered with soft, curly hair.
She now ceased struggling, and leant back against my shoulder; her face grew red, her bosom began to heave, and a sensuous look came into her eyes.
The woman had, without doubt, felt a man’s hand on her cunt before, or she would not have been so quiet.
I tickled her a little more, making her stiffen herself, squirm about on my knees, and giggle; her breath came and went, she was evidently excited, so I thought the moment had arrived for me to finish the job.
Lifting her up in my arms, I carried her to the bed, and laid her down upon it, without her making the least resistance; and she lay quietly on her back with her hands over her face.
It was plain that she intended to let me poke her, and I was glad of it, for had she resisted, I think I should have raped her, so excited was I at that moment.
I got up beside her, slipped both my hands under her clothes, unfastened her drawers, and pulled them right off her legs; then my hands roved freely over her very plump charms.
I squeezed the cheeks of her large and fat bottom, stroked her great, round thighs, tickled her cunt again, and gently pulled the hair. Then I unfastened the front of her dress, and plunged my hand as deeply down between her big bubbies as her stays would allow.
Unbuttoning my trousers, I let out my rampant prick, then I turned up all her clothes above her waist, so that I might inspect her naked figure; but she did not like being looked at, for she at once covered her slit with one hand, mid tried to pull down her chemise with the other; saying: “Oh, do not expose me so!”
It is strange that some women who will let a man feel them, and poke them, do not like to let themselves be seen.
I laughed, and pulling her hand away, took a good look at everything she had; finding that she was clean in every respect, and that her linen was of a very good description; her limbs were shapely, her skin was white, and the curly hair shading the “spot” was light brown.
Stretching out her legs, I got between them, and inserted the tip of my tool into her cunt, which was fairly tight; then, clasping her in my arms, I forced the weapon deeply into the sheath, and began to poke her vigorously.
She seemed to enjoy it, for she threw her arms round me, and bucked up well to meet my thrusts; but as I was so much excited, the fun did not last long; in a moment or two the spasm seized me, and I sent the hot fluid in jets up her vagina, while she wriggled her bottom, and squirmed about under me until she had received all I had to give.
I pulled down her clothes, and she looked up in my face, smiling. Her own face had a contented expression on it, and her eyes were glistening.
“Oh, sir,” she said, pretending to pout, “you should not have done that. You took me by surprise.”
“Never mind, Lucy,” I said, laughing. “You seemed to like it; and I am sure I did.”
She giggled, and a slight blush appeared on her cheeks.
Jumping off the bed, she calmly fastened up the bosom of her dress, and shook her petticoats straight; then going to the glass, she arranged her hair under her cap; and when she had settled everything to her satisfaction, she turned round, and looked roguishly at me.
I gave her a kiss, which she returned, and then she left the room, looking as fresh and tidy as if nothing had happened.
I performed some necessary ablutions, and sat down, feeling much better; and I said to myself that now the ice was broken, I would often amuse myself by poking my plump and pretty young housemaid.
That night, after dinner, I told “Frank” how the watch had been stolen, and how it had been recovered. She listened attentively while I was speaking, and when I had finished, she began to question me.
“Was the girl punished in any way?”
“Oh, yes,” I replied. “The girl was ‘horsed’ on Fanny’s back, and birched by Mrs. Grove.”
“Did you see her birched?” “Frank” asked, in a tone of great interest.
“Yes, I did.”
“Oh, did you really!” Then, with a humorous twinkle in her eyes, she said, demurely: “Was it not rather strange that you should be present while the girl was being birched?”
I laughed, saying: “Oh no, I don’t think there was anything strange in my seeing her punished. I have been present on other occasions, at the birching of a girl.”
“Oh, indeed! You never told me that before.”
Again, I laughed. “I don’t tell you everything I see or do, Master Frank.”
“No, I suppose you do not,” she said smiling. Then she went on: “Did Mrs. Grove birch the girl as severely as you once birched me?”
“I should rather think she did,” I replied.
“Why, the birching I gave you was nothing compared to the birching the girl received. There were drops of blood on her bottom when the punishment was over.”
“Oh, how dreadful!” said “Frank,” shuddering a little.
“How awfully sore she must be at this moment. It was sore for hours after my birching, although there was no blood.”
“Perhaps you have a finer skin than Anna. But she will soon get over the pain, she is a strong girl, and her bottom will be healed in a few days.”
The subject then dropped, but “Frank” seemed to have been moved in some way,- whether it was pleasantly, or unpleasantly, I could not make out-by our talk about the flogging; she became silent and abstracted, occasionally looking at me in a peculiar way, and I thought that perhaps she was going to tell me her secret.
But she did not, so I rallied her for sitting so silent, and told her to get a book and read to me.
She smiled, and getting up from her chair, went away to the library, returning in a short time with a volume of Shakespeare; then, seating herself near me, she read “The Tempest,” in a way that showed she possessed a large amount of histrionic talent.
The time passed quickly, and it was late before we separated for the night.
