Gary Fowler has holiday arrangements, and a not unwanted request from Mrs. Barton.
Gary slept long and deep and dreamt of Ariel, the self monikered hippy wife of a record producer. She had tried to interest him in stones and scented candles and had wanted to smoke her home made cigarettes before making love to the attractive ex-soldier and, as she saw it, victim of the state. His fags and booze were the only herbal remedies he was interested in, however, and Ariel was made prey to his own type of exploitation. At the time, he hated the condescension of her need to do good, he felt that she was making herself grand by deeming others necessary for her help.
He had been meditating about the possibility of her actual sincerity in recent weeks. At the time he had been angry when he realized that there was nothing of value in her bedroom, strange he thought, in that massive house.
He scraped his sleep away and found out he wasn’t alone. Ah, yes. He had followed a ridiculous girl back to her bedroom; she was young. He jolted his head upright in bed.
Lady Anne was still with him, one huge breasts was covered by their blanket, the other lay on top, her smugly contented face sighed into his chest hair. ‘Morning Gary darling.’ She whispered softly, as he lay back down.
‘Err…mornin’.’ He shuffled and Lady Anne bedded her face deeper.
‘You were snoring, my love. It sounded…like music.’ Gary was pretty certain it did not.
He tried to make sense of the previous evening. Of course, there was that stupid tuition, and then. Did he have sex with this girl alone, without Samantha shouting at him.
Annie took his hand and placed it on her round belly. ‘Do you feel it darling?’
‘What the hell!’ he thought, and then he remembered. He had, encouraged by both Samantha and her daughter, inseminated this girl. He had done it a few times, in different places. He did it when his balls ached and he thought they would produce nothing, but with the magic of Annie’s softness , they had always managed it.
And now it seemed, he possessed a spaniel. ‘I feel so alive this morning!’ soothed a smitten Annie. ‘How do you feel my love?’
Was this another of Samantha’s games? This girl had been abusive and plainly demeaning to him just the day before.
‘Aye, I feel grand.’ He replied, not wanting to encourage too romantic an attachment.
‘I am so “at ease” with you.’ she replied lyrically.
He began to think practically and looked at his watch. It was seven in the morning and he had to consider his day. He had workmates to pick up in an hour.
‘Lets make love again darling,' Annie smooshed, ‘give me more of that lovely, creamy manfullness.’
Gary doubted this was in his ability, but he was also concerned. Girls of Annie’s age were fertile as turtles; maybe he had succeeded in doing his manly duty.
‘I'm going to have to be off lass, got a gang of lads waitin’, like.’
‘No, no! You can’t go!’ she replied desperately.
‘Don’t worry lass, I’ll see yer tonight, eh?’
‘But, but…' she sobbed frantically.
He rose and dressed, hampered by a ludicrously attracted Annie.
‘Will there be some brekky doesn’t stairs?’ he asked.
Annie wiped away her tears. ‘Let me make it for you, honey?’
‘’Err, aye. That’d be grand.’
‘Mmm, I have to feed my man’. She rubbed his crotch.
--------------
Annie burnt everything. Bacon, sausage and eggs. It was the worst breakfast he had ever had. ‘Would you like more scrambled eggs my love?’ she asked.
Samantha walked blurry eyed into the kitchen. ‘Is that burning?’ She asked, ‘Is that burning bacon. Oh, Annie you silly kitty!’
‘Morning auntie Samantha, Gary needed breakfast before he starts work, he needs to be big and strong if he is going to look after both of us.’ she placed her hand on her stomach.
‘Annie, not again. This is the third time this year.’
‘No, auntie Samantha, this is for real. Gary and I are in love and we are going to marry, tell her Gary!’
Gary looked at the two in total confusion. Was this some kind of weird plot?
‘Right, that’s it, I’m phoning your mother, she will know precisely what to do Annie, you need to learn to curb your emotions.’
‘But, I don’t want to go to Switzerland again, I want to stay here and look after Gary’s baby.’
Gary was in a madhouse. He decided to leave. ‘Sam…I mean Mrs. Barton, I’ve got to pick the lads up now, sorry.’
‘No, no, you can’t go!’ Screamed Annie.
‘It’s fine Mr. Fowler. Are we still expecting you later?’ she asked.
‘Aye,' a desperate, sobbing Annie held on to his middle tightly, ’The lads should be here about two. It should all get done today.’
‘Oh, that is good news,' replied a calm Samantha. Calm, despite the chaos going on around. ‘The Countess’s driver will come over for Annie this morning, we will pick up the pieces, won’t we sweety-pie?’
‘No, no!’ Annie replied, ‘I want Gary and I want his beautiful, yokel babies!’
--------------
Gary’s team was all excitement about the afternoon job during their early lunch. They had growing suspicions about the goings on at the Grange and were eager to partake in the semi-mythical activities.
‘What have I said about this bloody job that gets you all goin’?’ Gary asked.
Wayne made most sense in the group. ‘It’s all’t rumours Gazza. I heard from Dewey that she’s got a right pair of knockers and he says all ot’ nobs get their turn; so he says.’ Dewey was Bob Dewhurst, a butcher in town.
‘So that means you get yours eh?’ Gary replied.
‘You lookin’ forward to your turn, Jakey lad?’ Paul the foreman asked the young apprentice.
‘Do you reckon gaffer? he replied eagerly.
‘Aye, you’ got as good a chance as the rest of us.’ He replied with a wink.
‘I heard she’s got a little lass in all,' Wayne suggested, ‘just right for you, young fella me lad.’
‘that’ll make t’lasses in’t village jealous eh kid?’ Paul added.
‘Aw, give over gaffer, you know I’m courting’ An embarrassed Jake replied.
All of this talk was in the arena of fantasy and all understood. If there was any reasonable prospect of actually satisfying the demand that the team of men had, the conversation would have been very, very different.
---------
At last, two o’clock came and Gary’s van, full of enthusiastic workmen arrived at the Grange to complete the tiling job around the pool.
Their excitement was dashed by the appearance of Mrs. Barton as they pulled into the gardener’s drive at the rear of the house. She was dressed as Gary had never seen her dressed before, in tweed skirt and Barbour jacket, with her hair in a bun and with wing glasses. It was frumpiness, defined.
’Oh, you are here good, good. I’m anxious that you all start as soon as you can. Mr. Fowler has done his best, but I do need this work finished for tomorrow. Who is in charge here?’
‘Aye, that’ll be me.’ Paul replied.
‘Yes, Mr?’
‘Atkinson.’
‘Mr. Atkinson, please, tell your men that no one except Mr. Fowler is to come near the house, understand.’
‘Aye, I think they are all listenin’.’ He replied.
Samantha glowered at his perceived cheek and Paul bashfully looked downward.
‘See that they do. There have been a spate of robberies in the area and I do not wish my house to be among them.’
‘Aye, Mrs. Barton.’ Paul replied.
‘So, if you need refreshments, please send Mr Fowler to the back door.’
‘Aye Mrs. Barton.’ He repeated.
The team was very disappointed by this development. ‘Bloody hell,' said Wayne, ‘why ‘ave yer been leadin’ us oop ‘garden path Gazza.’
Gary was astonished. ‘Aye lads, I’ve been trying to tell yet not to get too excited.’
‘Well, I reckon that means we’re not gonna get our go.’ squeaked Jake.
‘Aye, lad,' laughed Paul. ‘we have got a job on though.’ He walked over to the pool followed by the team, removed the covers, and looked at the work done by Gary. Without using his level or square, he could see that it was excellent, the run off was perfectly graded, the grout was mixed well and had set finely, the tiles were perfectly cut, bevelled and aligned. The firm would be in good hands with this relative newcomer. ‘What a bloody cowboy job!’ he exclaimed. ‘Well, we ain’t got time to fix it. Let’s get this show on’t go eh?.’
This was the way of things. Praise did have a place in this society, but not in the automatic recognition of work well done.
‘Jake, get cleanin’ them tiles and start mixin. Wayno, here’s yet mark, Gazza, here’s yours. Right come on lads. Chop, chop!’. Freed from the duty of carrying, preparing and mixing, Gary, Paul and Wayne could work much more quickly and they achieved good progress. By six o’clock, it was complete and Gary was knocking in the back door of the Grange. The majority of the team watched Gary as Jake covered the new work. The back door was answered by Samantha in the nude.
‘Mr. Fowler, you have finished’. I must say that is such a relief.’
Gary was immediately flustered, Aye, he replied trying to shield his eyes, I’ll ‘ave to come round tomorrow to make sure it’s all set and level, but, aye, err… done.’
She moved forward in the doorway so that one more step would have exposed her nakedness to the entire work team. ‘Yes, please do, and don’t forget to come up to the house, Hmm?’ she stroked the outside of her large round breast. ‘Rachel and I have just one opportunity to learn from you before we...go away.’
‘Aye, Mrs…Samantha..’ Gary was firmly of the opinion that all education was purely on his side.
--------
The next morning Gary and his team were at lunch at the cafe in town after a hard morning on the deep end tilework. Jake the apprentice showed his progression within the team by initiating a conversation. ‘Eh Gazza, why are you off to Portugal by yer sen?’
‘Who say’s I’m off there by me’sen?’
‘Aye,’ Paul contributed, ‘he’ll be picking up some “senior-ita” on't beach.’ The spoonerism was intended and raised laughs.
‘Will they be any different, them foreign birds, Gazza?’ asked Wayne.
‘Likely I’ll have to learn “I’ve got a big knob” in “portu geese”. But I’ll be drownin’ in ‘em Wayno.’
‘You’ll be bringing all manner o’ them foreign diseases back Gaz,’ Paul warned. ‘our nip came back with a green bell end, so he said.’
‘Our uncle Ted, right, ' said Jake in his young high pitched voice, ‘said that some of the lasses have got tackle.’
‘True,' confirmed Gary. ‘Some of them Hong Kong’ers were “he me she me’s”, it weren’t till yer were being hauled off em by yer mates that you got to know.‘ he shuddered.
‘I’d never get caught out me, ' Wayne said confidently, ‘They’ll have beards and that.’
‘Thing is though, they wear loads ’a make up ‘n dresses with high collars, and most t’lasses ain’t got much in’t way o’ knocker anyway.’
‘Not like Mrs. Barton.’ Said Jake.
‘Eh, young lads got he’s eyes out for some elder crumpet.‘ replied Paul.
So the day went, hard work followed by excited speculation over Gary’s impending holiday. Come the end of the day, it was not without a little trepidation that Gary removed the ground sheets from the swimming pool at the Grange for the last time. The team had done an excellent job the day before. It seemed that this part of his duty had been complete. Maybe, he could extricate himself from the other. The one that was destroying him.
Samantha Barton opened the door to him. Fully clothed this time, but her breasts were obviously unprotected from gravity and jostled together eagerly. ‘Gary I hope there is nothing amiss with the pool? We would like to use it tomorrow, before we leave.’
Gary averted his eyes long enough from the straining buttons on Samantha’s blouse to delivery his reply.
‘Aye, everything has set, you can use it now if yer want.’
‘Thank you Gary for all of your hard work, but I have more pressing concerns right now.’
‘Oh aye, Mrs…. Samantha, what’s up?’
‘Its that silly, silly daughter of mine. She is being sent home from school today for being inappropriately dressed. Can you believe such a thing?’
Gary could quite easily believe such a thing. ‘Well, I ‘eard they could be strict, these public schools, like.’
‘Yes, I am hoping it will be just a technicality, the wrong make of blazer perhaps. But I fear it, well…'
Gary decided not to pursue this subject and rode the silence arising from Samantha’s fears, ‘Aye, well, sorry Mrs…Samantha, on Saturday, I’m all set, wit’ passport and that, but, ‘ow we getting’ there.’
‘Oh, we will be using my father’s private jet, we only need to go to the airport just outside of the city; it’s all arranged, the car to take us there, the limousine from Faro, you don’t have to worry about a thing darling. It’s a well oiled machine.’
Gary was much relieved. ‘So I just need to turn up here wi' me stuff?’
‘Yes sweetie,’ she moved nearer toward him so that her nipples brushed over his arm, ‘and we won’t be needing much of that, Hmm?’ it had been nearly two days since his complete reproductive exhaustion as the hands of Lady Anne and the river had flowed in to fill the void. He subconsciously began to generate infra-sound through his work boots, like a bull elephant.
‘Anyway Gary, I need to discuss Rachel with you, I believe that she is suffering, poor dear.’
‘Suffering Mrs…Samantha.’
‘Yes Gary, since her dear Daddy died, there has been nothing in the way of a father figure that could have stepped in and provided a paternal influence.’ She looked at Gary, hopeful for a response. ‘Don’t you agree?’
Gary didn’t quite see the thrust of her argument ‘Well, she has his lordship, don’t he get involved?’
‘You mean my father, good heaven’s no, he is only interested in his Peruvian mines, or his South African farms or his racehorses.’ Samantha frowned, ‘She’s just another little fat one as far as he is concerned.’
‘Oh, right.’
‘What Rachel needs is a firm hand, a man in her life who can provide a corrective influence.’ Gary wondered where this was going. ‘Of course I have tried, but the saucy, little trollop just ignores my attempts. I have begun to feel, over the past weeks, that you maybe have some little interest in her welfare.’
‘Aye, well, the lass is headstrong that’s fer sure.’ Gary replied.
‘And she most certainly appreciates your being around.’ She detected a not entirely unforgivable reticence in Gary, ‘Naturally, Gary I’m not asking you to step into Captain Barton’s shoes.’
‘Aye?’
‘No, simply to act as a constraint to her more wild characteristics.’
This seemed to Gary another incursion into the “what he had signed up to” tacit arrangement. “How would I do that …Samantha?’
‘Well, I am quite old fashioned when it comes to this sort of thing and firmly believe that these modern, new fangled, passive parenting approaches are not appropriate for my child.’
‘Aye, that ain’t the way I were raised.’
‘Exactly Gary, I want to show Rachel the consequences of her actions, however when this has come from her mother it has been, well, quite ineffective.’
Now, poor Gary was deprived of much in his childhood, however his greatest deprivation was when the Lord God Almighty skimped on him in the brains department. But even he could see what Samantha was driving at. She wanted him to give corporal punishment to her own daughter. His own body began preparing for this; energy that might, in normal function, be directed toward logical brain activity or moral capacity was being channeled southward, towards his testes.
‘She will be home in a taxi soon, the headmaster called me an hour ago.’
‘Aye, right.’ Replied Gary, still uncertain in his mind about what his own actions should be.
‘So, will you stay around? I need to find out from Rachel exactly what occurred and I fear that she will just clam-up under my questioning.’
Gary was now in the predicament that Samantha had carefully planned. One where he had to weigh temptation against a moral obligation to himself. ‘I don’t know …Samantha, I like, came here to mend a swimming pool and, like, found myself giving sex lessons. This is like a bit…'
Samantha then played her trump card. ‘I was thinking, that maybe we could make love tonight. Soft, gentle love. I have so missed that.’
This appealed to that romantic part of Gary’s nature. To him Samantha Barton was a beautiful woman and as a child he had often fantasied about marrying such an individual, but because of the brutally of his early life, he had suppressed that urge for so long. ‘Aye…Samantha. That would be grand, I’ll, see what I can do with Rachel, like '
‘Oh, thank you Gary, thank you.’ This was not before time. Rachel’s taxi was crunching on the long drive up to the Grange.
The Rachel that alighted from the taxi walked sheepishly to the house, she may have been sent from school for wearing non-standard clothing but now she wore a knee length pleated skirt and a blazer. The bag she carried gave all the impression of educational respectability.
She soon stood in the kitchen before her mother who showed herself disconsolate. ‘Rachel, poppet, you are going to tell me what happened. I promise I will not be angry, but you must tell me the truth.’
‘But Mummy, it was all of the other girls; they were picking on me and well it was my underwear…that…' Rachel looked at Gary. ‘Does Mr. Fowler need to be here?’
‘Rachel, I have asked Mr. Fowler to stay. I would like him to give my punishment more authority.‘
‘Punishment Mummy?’
‘Yes darling, you don’t think I could ignore this latest misdemeanour of yours, Hmm?’
‘But Mummy, it wasn’t my fault, it was the other girl’s that made me wear it, and Mrs. Simmons has already punished me, or tried to.’
‘Rachel, darling, what happened at school today?’
The young girl looked at Gary and then at her mother and began her tale loquaciously. ‘Mummy, it was that horrible Janet and Emma and Sophie who hid my skirt after games, I couldn’t find it and they said I had to wear the freshers skirt, the one the new girls have to wear and I said okay, even though it was really short and the first lesson was geography with Mr. Truman, who’s a real dish. Anyway I was at the front of the class and he kept looking from his desk over to mine and I realised that he could see my knickers.’
‘Oh, Rachel!’ replied her mother.
‘It made me feel funny Mummy, so I got really hot and had to loosen my tie and my top buttons, just a bit or I would have fainted.’
‘I see, carry on Rachel.’
‘After about five minutes, Mr. Truman had to write on the board and when he did the girls at the back started giggling and asking questions and Mr. Truman tried to answer them with his back to us.’
Garry understood his predicament.
‘Anyway, Janet, who sits on the side suddenly gasped and said out loud ”Mr. Truman” and pointed and he had a bulge in his trousers.’
‘What on earth!’ Samantha replied.
‘Mr. Truman got annoyed and sent Janet to Mrs. Simmons and about fifteen minutes later she came back to the class and said I had to go to Mrs. Simmons’s office.’
‘That seems so unfair, Don’t you agree Mr. Fowler?’
‘’Aye, it doesn’t seem like the lass's fault at all.’
‘So, I got up and felt all of this runny stuff on the inside of my leg and I realised that my panties were all wet and I couldn’t wear wet panties to see the deputy headmistress, that would be wrong. Rachel pouted and looked up at Gary. ‘Don’t you agree Mr. Fowler?’
‘Aye, it wouldn’t be the right thing at all.’
‘So, I went to the girl’s room to take them off. I put them in my satchel, here they are.’ She took out the offending item and handed them to Gary. ‘See, they are all damp and horrible.’
Gary held them and the smell of sexuality washed over him.
‘Well, as soon as I went into the office, that horrible Janet was there with a really evil grin on her face I could have just slapped it, horrid girl.’
‘I hope you didn’t do that baby.’
‘No Mummy, but Mrs. Simmons started acting all funny, she was sniffing the air and she looked like she wasn’t very well, all sweating and fanning her face. She told Janet to leave and come back at five.’
Gary was beginning to react in the same way as poor Mr. Truman.
‘Mrs. Simmons went to her cupboard and got her cane out and swished it around, she said she was going to show me how to behave as a young lady should in her school.’
‘I must say,' replied Samantha, ‘even though it is my own daughter, that I for one, approve of such action. Go on Rachel.’
‘Well, Mrs. Simmons asked me to put my hands on her desk and bend over, she said that I was to get six of the best. I did, but then she said that I was so naughty, that my caning was to be under my skirts, on my knickers, except I wasn’t wearing any.’
‘Oh, Rachel.’
‘And when Mrs. Simmons lifted my skirt and peeled it back to tuck it in to my belt, she could see everything!’
Samantha showed her displeasure with her daughter. ‘Rachel, you didn’t behave well at all, I hope that Mrs. Simmons made your bottom hurt.’
‘Well Mummy, I thought she was going to but she lifted the cane, like she was going to hit me but she just stopped, I turned around to her and I thought she was going to get really angry because she made this face. ‘ Rachel imitated a look of lust.
‘Hmm, ' Samantha considered, ‘I hope Mrs. Simmons wasn’t having second thoughts.’
‘That is what I thought mummy, so I asked her. “Aren’t you going to cane my bottom Mrs. Simmons?” and that just made her really angry. So angry that she grabbed my bare bottoms with both of her hands and started rubbing them.’
‘I am becoming more disappointed with this establishment by the minute, what do you think Mr. Fowler?’
‘Eh, oh,' Gary was snapped out of his reverie, ‘aye, it sounds like a strange school to be sure.’
‘Then she started sniffing the air and asked me if I was wearing perfume. We aren’t allowed to wear perfume Mr. Fowler.’
‘Oh, right.’ Replied Gary.
‘Anyway, I said no and she called me a liar, and when I turned round to look at her and deny it she was staring right at my little pee pee.’
‘Quite unprofessional!’ said Samantha.
‘She stared for ages, then when I looked back under my armpit, I could see that her hand was in her own knickers.’
‘Quite appalling behaviour,' tutted Samantha.
‘Mrs. Simmons said that what I had done would mean I had to get a special punishment, one that only the worst behaved girls get. She called it oral correction.‘
‘You don’t mean?’
‘Yes, Mummy, except that Mrs. Simmons wasn’t very good at oral correction, because when she started it began to feel really nice and then after five minutes, she started to do some kind of correction on herself, because she started screaming.’
‘Oh, baby.’
‘Then, when she stopped screaming she got really annoyed, and gave me my skirt back that Janet had taken and phoned the headmaster to send me home. Am I in trouble mummy?’
Samantha looked at her daughter with sympathy. ‘Baby, being a mother is so hard and sometimes we have to do things that we don’t like to do.’
‘Mummy?’
‘Listen darling, what you did was wrong and I need you to properly know that, so that you can be a better girl in the future '
‘But, Mummy,' I promise I will be better.
‘No Honey, Mummy and Mr. Fowler will need to ensure that you will behave better and Mrs. Simmons’s punishment will have to be completed here.’
‘Does that mean you will be giving me six of the best mummy.’
‘To begin with perhaps, but I know that Mr. Fowler and I share the same mind when it comes to corporal punishment and I don’t think you should expect it to be quite so easy.’
‘But Mummy, I promise to be a good girl from now on.’
‘Yes baby, but your promises are just words and Mummy needs to know that her little kitten is going to be good.’
Samantha produced from behind her the same dressing gown chord that had restricted Annie’s movements a couple of days before. ‘Mr. Fowler, would you be so good as to restrain my daughter’s hands behind her.’
Rachel protested at Gary’s firm grasp. ‘No! Please Mr. Fowler!’
Samantha used his first name in front of her daughter for the first time as she bound her wrists behind her. ‘Gary, I think you should tell my daughter exactly what you think she Is.’
Gary was unprepared for this request and although his hard on raged, he wasn’t quite at the stage of abandon that necessitated bad language. ‘You’ve been a naughty girl, Rachel?’ He offered.
‘Yes, ' Samantha added. ‘A naughty girl. ‘I think we should see what it was that made Mrs. Simmons so angry, Hmm?’
Mrs. Barton dragged her now docile daughter from the kitchen into the hallway, placed her left foot onto the second step of the stairs and looked at her legs, which flowed away from her skirt, and then lifted the hemline of her dress slowly. Gary was more interested in the attitude she took with regard to her chest. Rachel arched her back, and thrust her chest forward, her eyes looked back toward her mother like a frightened doe. ‘This is going to hurt Mummy, far more than it’s going to hurt you, darling’ Samantha said sternly. She lifted the hemline, exposing Rachel’s round bare buttocks. Her pronounced position also exposed the puffy, reddening folds of her outer vagina, which glistening under the lamps of the hall.
‘Mummy, I promise to be good. Please don’t hurt me.’ Rachel gulped and rocked back and forth, preparing herself. ‘Don’t hurt me…too much.’ She added.
‘It won’t be me darling. Mr. Fowler has agreed to administer this correction.’ Gary was again jolted out of his inner thoughts. Rachel was posed in a highly provocative manner, her legs were separated such that they seemed welcoming and her large breasts, though held by her substantial school bra, hung down in an aesthetically pleasing droop. Samantha moved her position to sit on the stairs and motioned her daughter to move directly in front of her. Her bound wrists began trying to prevent access to her vulnerable, fleshy rump ‘Now, darling. I want you to tell me how much you are sorry, huh baby? Proceed please Mr. Fowler.’
Gary had often given slaps to young girls, however these were usually delivered in the heat of passion. This was something quite new and he was uncertain of his own ability to be so cold-hearted. Faced with a bare bottom and a wriggling girl, he held the flat of his hand an inch away from her bare skin. Rachel could feel the warmth of it and bit her bottom lip. ‘I’m sorry Mummy.’ The young girl bleated.
‘That’s what we are going to find out honey.’ Replied her mother. Gary’s palm descended with a small tap on the upper part of Rachel’s rear end. ‘Again please Gary. I want her to feel it this time.’ Again he slapped, with a barely audible tap.
‘I don’t think we need to tickle the girl Mr. Fowler, let me give you a guide.’ Samantha raised her arm over the elongated torso of Rachel, stretched her hand, let it pause for a dramatic effect and brought it down with force on the top of her daughter’s right bum cheek. Rachel let out a little squeal that sounded to Gary, only partially one of pain. ‘Mr. Fowler?’ Samantha urged.
Gary had a few misgivings about smacking this girl, wayward as she was. But, the more that little round bottom exuded it’s warmth and the more her mother persuaded, the more he began to feel a sexual thrill from this non-passive situation. He slowly rubbed his fingertips over the light downy hairs at the base of Rachel’s spine, lifted his large calloused hand and landed it hard on the left side of the rump with a solid smack. Rachel responded with a little scream of half pain and half pleasure.
‘Now, Rachel, Mr. Fowler is trying to help. What do you say?’
Rachel thought for a moment, unwilling to obey her mother’s instruction . Another loud smack settled her mind. ‘Thank you Mr. Fowler.’
‘That is better young lady.’ admonished Samantha. ‘Do you think that is enough?’
‘’Yes Mummy, that’s enough.’ Smack! ‘No sweetie, you haven’t learned yet. Gary took his queue from Samantha and landed a loud crack on Rachel’s fleshy bottom, it began to alter colour from a pale white, to a soft blush. He again landed a blow on the same spot.
‘Carry on Gary, I want my daughter to feel the results of her bad behaviour.’ His erection grew as Rachel spilled her pain into the air of the hallway, the lush stair carpet dampening the sound. Samantha began to manipulate the many hooks on the back of Rachel’s school bra through her blouse. ‘Rachel darling, remember what I said about different types of man?’ ‘What, eek! What Mummy?’
‘’That, darling, that some men are soft and gentle, and some men are hard and unkind.’’
‘Yes Mummy. Oooch!’
‘And that it is our responsibility to understand that and behave appropriately.’ Her mother continued. ‘And why, why do we do this?’
‘So that, Argh!’ Rachel arched her back as her undergarment relaxed and her breasts loosened in their blouse. ‘We can get what we want?’
‘Yes baby, so that we can get what we want ' Mrs. Barton began to gently cup the dangling breasts of her young daughter. ‘Oh, I always knew you would be special my love. You are going to drive men mad. The country is full of stupid, rich and powerful men. Idiot men like your uncle, how he sits in parliament is a total mystery '
Had Gary heard of Miss Haversham, he would have understood his current position a little better. But he did understand one thing, he was still engaging in Rachel’s tuition and for this reason began to feel less distressed about his actions. There was something about orderly structure that allowed him to reconcile his undoubted violence.
Rachel’s punishment continued and the effects of her voice, which, from the fearful shrieks of the first blows, had began to merge into the sounds expected from hard sexual intercourse as Samantha massaged the breasts of her supine issue.
Samantha posed her another question. ‘Are you going to apologize to Mr. Truman for making his cock hard when you go back to school, girl?’
Rachel objected to this. ‘But mummy, that wasn’t my fault…It was…' To this she received a sharp slap on the face from her mother. The young girl was silenced and gasped as a flush of panic rose in her body.’ Samantha reached down to her daughter’s legs and parted them, leaving a palm wide corridor of access to her vagina.
‘Slap her pussy please Mr. Fowler.’ She instructed. It wasn’t difficult for him to move his sustained thwacks from the pink round skin of the girls buttocks to the pink twitching crotch area. Rachel howled a long tone into her mother’s chest. ‘Oh, fuuuck!’ this did not stop Gary, who issued more of the treatment into her nether area.
‘Okay baby,' Samantha explained. ‘This is new, but you must control it huh?’ Rachel body was beginning to contract, a sexual convulsion was beginning. Samantha, let go of her daughter and signalled to Gary to do the same. This left Rachel to shiver and twitch her way back to stability. Mrs. Barton obviously knew her stuff and her daughter had been taken right to the edge. ‘Oh, baby. You have done so well, but you have to intervene a little earlier with your self control.’
Rachel looked at her mother with a wet pout as her wobbly legs tried to stabilize themselves. ‘Sorry Mummy, I couldn’t do what you wanted.‘
‘It’s okay honey, you have lots of time to learn.’ She slowly untied her daughter’s arms and sat her on her own lap, cradling her still quivering form, ‘You can think about what to do when you are all by yourself, I used to do the same when I was your age.’
‘Really Mummy, did you get slapped when you were a little girl too?’
‘Oh, yes baby, and it took me a long time to enjoy it. But I want to help you so that you like it more quickly. The men who used to slap me didn’t care about me the way that I care about you.’
“Oh, thank you, thank you Mummy!’ Rachel cried.
The pair hugged for a long moment before Samantha spoke. ‘Now, kiddo. Do you want to be fucked by Mr. Fowler’s nice cock, Hmm?’
‘Oh, yes please Mummy.’
‘Let’s both take his clothes off, hey?’
Gary saw the two females eyeing him and he sacrificed himself to their attentions, in no time he was naked, and the only part of his body that wasn’t upright was his penis. Because this was fiercely horizontal.
‘Mummy, why does it do that?’
‘Bob up and down?’ Samantha replied, ‘That’s because his blood is surging around it and his heart pumps his blood, and that is the movement of his heart.’
‘Does that mean Mummy, ' Rachel considered, ‘that when I am playing with a man’s cock, I am playing with his heart?’
‘Oh, my clever child. Yes, yes, that is exactly what we are doing, so we must be careful, hmm?’
‘Careful Mummy.’
‘Yes, we must judge a man before we play with a man’s heart because a broken man will not give us what we want, just like an unmoved man, they will not give us what we want.’
‘A broken cock won’t give us what we want either will it Mummy.’
‘No honey, you are so clever! Now, let’s get these clothes off, has baby been doing her exercises?’
‘Yes Mummy.’
‘Because we don’t want your lovely titties to go all big and saggy like Granny’s do we?’
‘No Mummy.’ Samantha removed her daughter’s blouse, exposing the young girl’s architectural chest to Gary’s lustful eyes. Her sexually enhanced state had, if anything, increased their volume and deepened their hue. He could more than imagine the nourishment both of the pronounced teats would give to her offspring. Even now, at her age, they pointed out at a succulently divergent angle, begging for a pair of babies to be clamped onto them. For the moment, she had to be satisfied with her mother.
‘Oh, you are just perfect baby.’ She took the underside of her daughter’s right breast in her hand and softly squeezed. ‘Mmm, just one look at your dear father’s mother made up my mind because she had the loveliest perky tits. I knew the combination of my mother and his would produce a wonder.’ Samantha heaved her own chest and sighed happily. ‘Right, now let’s get this penis inside you. It’s not going to take long for you to cum is it baby?’
‘I don’t think so Mummy.’ Samantha stood and placed her daughter’s right foot on the third stair.
‘Now, bend your back darling, show him your lovely pussy.‘ Rachel pointed her rear toward it’s intended target and turned to observe the reactions of it’s potential invader. And lovely, that pussy was. The skin that surrounded it was still blushing from the treatment that had been metered and the vertical, oval lips, moistened by her robust health invited Gary, whose penis was magnetically drawn towards it, as though it were being pulled by a chord.
Samantha noticed this with satisfaction. ‘Yes, Gary. It’s all yours. Yours to do whatever you like with. Do you want to spunk up inside it? Do you want to squeeze your balls and unleash all of your dirty semen into my lovely, lovely daughter’s cunt’?’
Gary hadn’t spoken for many minutes. ‘Aye, I’d love that.’
‘Mmm, it is her time, she is in the right time for you Gary. One drop of your cum will make a dozen babies with my little darling, if you fuck her now Gary.‘
Gary placed his hands each side of the round buttocks that glowed in front of him. He was ready to satisfy the accumulation of lust that the prior hour had brought. The deviant sexual thoughts that had panned across his brain had stimulated every gland in his body and all of them had a channel to pipe their secretions directly to his testicles.
Rachel bent her right leg slightly, and this little movement put the two sexual organs on the same plane, they moved, chemically drawn, toward each other. Finally, Gary’s bright purple glans bumped softly into Rachel’s outer folds and emerged from the contact, whetted.
‘Oh, fuck.” Announced Rachel. ‘Mummy, please, I really want it.’
‘This is the beauty of anticipation honey?’ her mother replied, ‘Mr. Fowler is teasing you.’
Garry took hold of his cock and forcibly Pressed the now moist head against the softness of her labia. ‘Oo, oo. Mummy, I love it.’
‘Yes, baby. But control yourself. Think of silly things.’
‘Yes Mummy, can I use my fanny muscles please.’
‘Yes baby, if you think you’ll enjoy it more, but remember, try to control your emotions. This isn’t for your enjoyment, it is for you to learn how to reach the upper echelons of society, and we are using Mr. Fowler to do it.’ Gary immediately found the entrance with which he was dallying, tighten up, like a clam. He pressed the head of his penis into Rachel's hitherto welcoming cunt until it squashed and deformed. Samantha peered over her daughter’s rump to observe Gary’s repeated attempts at penetration. ‘Not quite so tight darling, too much is a little pointless, hmm?’
‘Yes Mummy.’ Rachel replied and Gary discovered a slight give in the powerful, tensile forces that restricted that softest part. The well controlled lips dilated enough to give him the slightest of passages.
Samantha’s mind worked through the possible practice scenarios that were available and finally settled on one. ‘Now baby, I want you to pretend to be a virgin again, do you remember that, darling?’
‘But that was ages ago Mummy.’
‘I know baby, but some men love fucking virgins, it makes them feel special, because they think they are taking something from you.’
‘I’ll try Mummy. Does it mean I will have to scream lots and lots too.’
‘Uhuh, honey, you can scream lots and lots. You can scream the house down if you really want.’
On this, Rachel’s body suddenly tensed and she turned around to Gary with a wide eyed look of alarm. She was acting. ‘Please don’t hurt me Mr. Fowler, please be gentle.’
The lava flow of passions that Gary was undergoing was not going to be sated by gentility. He responded to Rachel’s faux request with a soft grunt and began to press his cock forward.
‘Oh, god. It feels so big, it hurts, ow, ow.’
‘Aye, lass, ' replied Gary. I’m inside of you, do ya want more of it?’
‘No, no,' replied Rachel. Gary ignored her and bowed out her insides by another inch. ‘oh, god, I’m broken.’ Screamed Rachel in apparent distress.
‘Good baby,' directed Samantha, ‘now let him in suddenly.’
As the muscle tone in Rachel’s tunnel suddenly disappeared, the effect to Gary was a though some barrier had loosened. It was followed by a piercing scream from the young girl as his shaft mined into her depths to it’s fullest extent. ‘Oh, God, that’s so deep!’ The young girl shouted. His withdrawal was followed by a reapplication and a scream of similar intensity, yet shorter duration. Samantha watched the scene in front of her avidly, massaging her daughter’s breasts as the copulation began in earnest. Left to their own design, Rachel’s tits would have circled and bounced as Gary’s thrusts added momentum into the little girls body, but in Samantha’s hands they were stable and protected.
One could only imagine the hidden violence that was taking place internally from the dramatic external effects as Rachel’s flesh responded in waves and rivulets of energy. Gary was incited by this pantomime and pounded his cock, harder into Rachel now, than he had ever done before. He was performing a sexual sprint and terminal velocity was fast approaching. Using only a small proportion of her experience allowed Samantha to recognised this and she began pinching her daughter’s nipples and talking in an attempt to stimulate her in response. ‘Oh, yes, baby. Cum. Cum for Mummy. Soak up his spunk, little baby '
The sensation of Rachel’s quivering waist as she began to experience the beginning of her orgasmic contractions was too much for Gary to bear, the light began to rush toward him like a locomotive in a tunnel as he felt all of his current sensations momentarily deadened in a torrent of adrenaline and stream upon stream of his cum spurted into the young girl. He abruptly felt Rachel’s free hand cupping his ball sack gently as she screamed her joy into the downstairs hallway. Samantha joined in this finale. ‘Oh, yes baby take it, take all of that lovely spunk.’ Deep inside Rachel’s insides Gary felt a strange soft sucking as he ejaculated into her lovely moist cave, as though an alien intruder was trying to hoover his semen for it’s own purpose. It heightened his cascade and he howled his blessed relief to form a chorus of exhilaration with Rachel’s manufactured screaming. ‘Oh, fuck yes' Samantha cried out, ‘do you feel it Gary, do you feel Rachel’s cunt vacuuming up your spunk. You are going to give her a child Gary!’
The future complications of this revelation did not occur to the handsome young workman at this particular moment. He was in the middle of a profound experience as his mixture churned into the pulsating vagina of this young schoolgirl, the constant reminder that his seed had a certainty of fertilisation simply acted as a lightning bolt to an already tempestuous storm.
The winding down process from this intense sex took many minutes of shivering and twitching, but as Gary adjusted to life outside of this union his heart rate descended and his breathing became less frequent until Samantha broke the spell.
‘That was good, Hun, but it needs more work.’
‘Do you think so Mummy?’ Rachel replied.
‘Yes baby, you did overdo it at the beginning a little bit, but you need to give the impression that you are just being passive.’
‘Even though I am not Mummy?’
‘Even though you are not. I shall give you, oh, eight out of ten. Better than last time but room to improve, Hmm? Now pick your things up and toddle off for a shower huh, baby.’
‘Okay Mummy. Thankyou Mr. Fowler, bye Mr. Fowler.’
Gary’s legs were still unsteady from his efforts as Rachel left. ‘Aye, what do I get then?’ He asked.
‘You Gary, get to fuck my nubile daughter. That should be reward enough don’t you think?’
‘Oh, aye Mrs...Samantha.’ He replied gratefully.
‘Well, that’s good,' she replied , ‘because I’ve decided to satisfy myself tonight, I will no longer be needing your services.’
Gary was rather relieved by this. ‘Right, then.’ He replied, his cock slowly throbbing it’s descent.
‘Let me clean you off though, as my daughter isn’t here.’ He stood upright as Samantha descended into his penis, slavering away both his own and Rachel’s emissions, leaving his genitals lovely and clean. ‘Now, Gary, away with you. Be here tomorrow at noon prompt.’
Gary was very put out with the rather precipitous end to the afternoon, but, even though doubts plagued him concerning this strange relationship he journeyed back home in high expectation for the next week.