27-03-2026, 10:07 PM
All credit to the author who is Angela Meadows
***
The oil lamp gave me a ghostly appearance in the long mirror due to my white-stockinged legs, white satin bloomers and corset, and the white skin of my face and exposed breasts. The only contrast was my brown hair and my small red nipples. For the first time since I had arrived at the Venus college for Young Ladies some six weeks earlier, I stood in the study of Madame Thackeray, the Principal. Why I was there I wasn’t sure. Somehow, I had displeased her while pleasuring young Albert during the evening’s lesson. Now I stood patiently awaiting her, standing beside her desk and looking at my image. To my right was a large bed, as this was Madame’s bedroom as well her office. The bed had heavy wooden head- and foot-boards with pineapple-shaped knobs at each corner. At the foot of the bed was a strange, waist-high stool. It was in the form of an elephant standing on four sturdy legs. Its trunk and two curved tusks pressed against the bed and it had a broad, padded leather back.
I turned my gaze to Madame’s desk. It bore just four items, two of which were framed photographs. One showed two ladies which I recognised in the dim light as being Madame Thackeray herself and Madame Hulot, her companion and assistant. They were dressed in light blouses and dark skirts and carried parasols. The other photo was a different style entirely as it showed a naked woman facing the photographer with a fine scarf suspended lazily from her right hand. She appeared to have no body hair whatsoever. I peered closely and was a little astonished to confirm that the figure was Madame Hulot. The other two items on the desk also seemed rather incongruous for that of a college principal. One was a black leather riding crop and the other was a magnificent ebony phallus. I bent to look at the latter more closely. It was broader and longer than the glass instruments that Madame had given us to practise with, and it had a pair of fist-sized testicles at one end. The other end was a helmet-shaped knob so large that I thought I would barely be able to get my hand around it. I could not imagine what use such a tool could be put to, but further examination was prevented by the scbang of the door opening. I stood up straight.
Madame swept in, circled me and sat at the chair behind her desk. Although surely in her early forties she was a handsome woman with long fair hair piled up on her head. She rested her hands on the leather desktop and looked up at me. “What is your purpose here, Victoria,” she asked curtly. “To study the arts and sciences required to manage our future husband’s household and affairs and to satisfy him in any way that he desires,” I recited the oft-heard catechism of Madame Thackeray’s college. “That is correct, Victoria, but you disappoint me. You have shown great aptitude for the arts of love but it seems that you cannot resist taking pleasure yourself.”
“But, Madame,” I protested, “You taught us to find pleasure in being touched and how to arouse excitement in our private parts.”
“I did indeed and valuable lessons they are, but what you have not yet learned is that there is a time to indulge your own pleasure and a time to devote to servicing your lover. Caressing and coaxing the male member requires all your attention, not least in preventing him from reaching a climax too soon. Instead of using both hands on your man you had one hand up your fanny.”
“I am sorry, Madame.”
“You will be, Victoria. However, there is another matter and that concerns Albert. He has a marvellous attribute and will be a great asset to us here, but he is inexperienced and spurts far too readily. As well as learning your own lesson you must teach him restraint.” I was nonplussed; what did Madame mean? She answered my unspoken question immediately.
“You will spend an hour each day before supper, handling Albert’s magnificent cock. You will ensure he retains his erection for the whole hour without ejaculating and you will refrain from fingering yourself in that time. A senior girl will observe and record transgressions. Next Sunday you will report to me at three of the clock and we will examine your progress. Each failure will be rewarded with a stroke of this.” Madame raised the crop and brandished it at me, “And now I will give you a taste of what to expect if you fail.” My heart beat faster as I realised that she intended to beat me. “Remove your bloomers if you please, Victoria.” I had little choice but to obey Madame. I tugged on the ribbon at my waist. The bow undid and the garment duly dropped to the floor. I stepped out of it.
“Now bend over the elephant.” The purpose of the strange stool had become apparent. I stepped slowly and fearfully towards it. When my thighs rested against the cool leather, Madame pushed against the small of my back with the riding crop. I bent forward until my stomach was resting on the padded back of the elephant. My arms and my hair dangled down. “Further,” Madame urged. I raised myself up on the tip of my toes and found myself delicately balanced on the elephant’s back. I felt Madame’s slippered foot slide between my ankles and push my legs apart. My feet lost contact with the floor and I really was lying across the stool. I was very conscious that my buttocks were as exposed as they could be, as were my most private parts.
I lay there listening to Madame’s soft breaths as some moments passed. Not even my dear, strict father had beaten me before so I had no idea what to expect. I trembled in anticipation. There was a fizz through the air and my left buttock burst into flame. I yelped, but before I could take a breath there came another screech of the crop and my right buttock exploded. “Please, Madame,” I appealed, but to no avail as the crop scorched across my left cheek a second time. I tried to struggle off the stool. “Be still, Victoria,” She was breathing deeply now, but her energy was not expended as the crop came down again on my right buttock. I screamed out, as it felt that both my cheeks were aflame. “That is enough for now,” Madame said soothingly. I remained thrown over the whipping stool like a sack of potatoes over a donkey. I sobbed but the pain began to subside a little. I felt a pressure in the small of my back, a finger that began to slide between my cheeks. It lingered, circling around my arsehole. Despite the smouldering fire in my buttocks the touch was like an electric shock. It became the centre of my attention. The finger moved on, parting my lips and slipping inside. I realised that my juices were flowing. The finger delved deeper and was joined by its neighbours and by a thumb that felt for and found my swelling button. I groaned as the pleasure competed with the pain of the beating. In fact, the pleasure seemed greater than I had ever experienced. In a few moments I was moaning as pulses of indescribable desire rippled through my abdomen. My thighs shook uncontrollably and I came with a gasp and cry. The hand withdrew. “There, that will teach you something, Victoria. Pain and pleasure complement each other, the former raising the latter to a new plane of sensation. You may dismount now.”
A little wriggling shifted my weight so that I slid off the elephant and onto my unsteady legs. I turned to face Madame. She was standing holding the door open, my bloomers dangling from an outstretched finger. “Don’t forget – five of the clock each evening, in the drawing room. Return to your room now.” I grabbed the under-garment and fled from the room and up the stairs. When I reached my bedroom, I flung myself face down on the bed. My bottom still burned but my thoughts were of the ecstasy that Madame had given me. Barely a few moments passed before there was a knock on the door, and a whispered voice asked, “Victoria, are you there?” I recognised the French accent of my friend, Natalie. “Come in,” I called, my voice breaking somewhat. The door opened. “Oh, Victoria, what has happened to you?” Natalie approached me and I could see her wide eyes staring at my bottom. “Has Madame beaten you? You have a cross of red marks on your smooth, white bottom.” I explained what Madame had said and the punishment I had received. Natalie laid her hand gently on my bottom. “Ooh, I can feel the heat still,” Then I began to describe how Madame had caressed me. “Do you mean like this,” Natalie’s finger traced out the same path as Madame’s and again my loins trembled with the delectable pleasure. “Yes, just like that,” I moaned. Natalie pressed her hand between my swollen lips. “You are indeed excited, Victoria. I am sure that just a little movement like this,” her fingers rubbed in and out of my vagina, “will make you come.” “I … I think you are correct,” I gasped as the tremulations increased to a climax. Afterwards we lay together on the bed and discussed the strange way that the beating I had been given seemed to make me quicker to achieve orgasm.
“Perhaps, Madame will find occasion to use her whip, on me,” said Natalie almost wistfully. As the clock in the hallway struck five, I entered the drawing room. My room-mate, Beatrice, one year my senior, was sitting on a couch, sewing in the light of the sun that was about to set beyond the mountain peaks. As I stepped towards her, I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see Albert joining us. Bea put down her work and looked at each of us. “Good afternoon, Albert,” Albert nodded his head in greeting, “Hello, Victoria. You know what you have to do.” I turned to face Albert and pressed a hand against his groin. His cock was already hard and straining at his lederhosen.
“You are not going to do it in those clothes are you, Victoria?” Bea’s voice carried a note of authority. I looked down at my long grey woollen skirt and high-necked, long-sleeved, white linen blouse, “You do not want to get semen on your day uniform. Take it off.” I had no argument to put to Bea, so unbuttoned my blouse and slipped it off my shoulders, then unfastened my skirt and let it drop to the floor. I stepped out of it and stood somewhat self-consciously in my slip. “And the rest,” I looked at Bea questioningly, “Yes, I said take off your slip. Don’t waste time.” Bea seemed to enjoy giving me orders. I grasped the hem of my slip and pulled it up over my head. For the first time in my life, I stood unclothed in front of a man, well a boy, as that was all that Albert was really. His eyes widened as he took in the full sight of my naked body. His adoring look immediately excited me and I felt my nipples swell and perk up. I began to sway from side to side feeling extremely sensuous. My breasts swung in response to my movement and Albert’s head followed them. “Now release him, and get down to work,” I came to my senses and remembered what I was supposed to be doing. I knelt in front of Albert and undid the buttons of his flies. Before I had finished his erect penis pushed through the suede leather and throbbed a few inches from my face. He pushed the braces from his shoulders and the shorts slid down his legs. He pulled his smock over his head and then stood naked but for his knee-length woollen socks and the slippers that the men wore inside the house. The rays of the sunset streamed through the window and illuminated his body. His skin seemed to give off a golden glow. I gazed at his marvellous tool, so long, so broad, so firm. There was a tingling between my legs and I lowered my arm so that my hand could find its way between my thighs. My fingers found my crack.
“Victoria, I can see what you are doing. That’s one black mark against you.” Bea’s sharp words wakened me as if from a dream. I remembered Madame’s command that I must not pleasure myself but concentrate on Albert. I resolved to do as I was told. I placed my right hand under Albert’s testicles and felt their weight on my palm. I caressed his scrotum with my fingers, the coarse curly hairs like a nest. I encircled my left hand around his shaft, my fingertips just meeting my thumb. I pushed my hand away from me pulling back his foreskin. His shiny, purple knob appeared and the tiny hole in the tip gaped. Albert moaned. I looked up to see that he had thrown his head back and he had clenched his fists either side of his thighs. I closed my right hand around his balls and pulled my left hand towards me. The glans disappeared in the folds of the foreskin. I repeated the movement just once but that was enough. Albert moaned again and shuddered and thick white semen gushed out of the penis and covered my bosom. It dribbled down between my two breasts. I released Albert’s penis and testicles from my grip.
“That’s hardly a good start, Victoria,” Bea’s sneer indicated her low opinion of my skills, “it hasn’t been five minutes yet. You’ve got to hold him at the edge for an hour. You had better start again.” Albert had sunk to the floor and was lying stretched out on his back on the thick carpet. His penis, though still three or four inches in length, flopped flaccidly against a thigh. “What should I do?” I appealed to Bea. “Caress him, his whole body, not just his cock. Use your bosom.” I knelt beside Albert and allowed my fingers to wander over his smooth hairless chest. He murmured with satisfaction. I lowered myself further until my nipples touched his skin then I moved from side to side so that my breasts made random curved patterns over his abdomen. The movement gave me pleasure too and my nipples become as hard as acorns. Albert opened his eyes and stared at me with a look of utter amazement. I glanced at his groin and saw his penis stir. I continued to move but watched in fascination as his cock unfolded and grew. It rose higher and higher straining towards the ceiling. The purple head forced its way through the foreskin and emerged like the fruit of some tropical plant. I was surprised by the light touch of fingers on my breasts. I looked round and saw Albert’s hands cupping and caressing my bosom. The touch sent a thrill to my stomach and beyond. I could feel my lips swelling and parting. I was in a dreamy state of pleasure and unable to think as my hand slipped between the folds of my vulva.
“Victoria! That’s twice.” I withdrew my hand and awoke with a start. I knew that Bea would report my misdemeanours to Madame Thackeray and my buttocks tingled with the anticipation of another beating. Albert continued to massage my breasts while I leaned over him. He was stretching his legs and pointing his toes. I reached out my right hand to grasp his erect tool, but as I did, he was convulsed with a spasm and another glob of semen spurted from the hole. “Well, I suppose that was a bit better. At least he lasted fifteen minutes that time.” Bea sighed, “You still have forty minutes left, Victoria.” It took a little longer to revive Albert after his second ejaculation but allowing him to play with my breasts and nipples kept his attention. I ran my hands all over his young, taut limbs and trunk, exploring a man’s body for the first time. It was so much firmer than a female’s, the muscles hard beneath the silky skin. He explored my body too, his long, supple fingers tracing the marks of the crop on my buttocks. His long, eager cock trembled and waved as we embraced and moved over each other but I succeeded in restraining him from another orgasm. My resolve only slipped as the clock struck six. He was kneeling over me and I reached between his legs to grasp his tool with both hands.
Albert groaned and arched his back. White drops of semen dripped on to my stomach. “Your time is up, Victoria. You can dress now Albert.” Albert stood up and pulled on his lederhosen while I lay back exhausted. The next day at the same time, Albert and I met again in the drawing room. We undressed and got to work caressing each other. Today it was Helga who was supervising us and waiting for me to make a mistake. Helga was a big, fair German girl whose conversation seemed to consist of shouted commands. Albert and I had been busy for about twenty minutes without mishap when my hand slipped between my legs. Helga was vigilant. “Nein, Victoria. You must not,” she bawled. Albert paused in his manipulation of my breasts and spoke to Helga in German. They proceeded to have a conversation. At last, he turned to me and smiled broadly. “I have explained your task to Albert,” Helga explained loudly, “He now understands that you are not allowed to play with your own private parts but he asks if there is any reason why he should not touch you there.” Helga shrugged, “If he wishes to do so I see no reason why he should not.”
Albert reached out, took my hand and guided me to the couch. He beckoned for me to sit down. When I had done so he knelt at my feet. I lay back and he pushed my knees apart and gazed adoringly at the wonders that I kept between my legs. I could not see much of what was happening from my reclining position but I imagined that his penis was still firm and wobbling gently. Albert placed his hand on the softest skin at the top of my thigh and wound the short curly hairs around his forefinger. Then he used both hands to peel my lips apart. He lowered his head until his hair and ears touched the skin of my legs. I was waiting for something but I was not sure what was to come. The muscles in my buttocks were tense and my fanny throbbed. When the touch finally came, I let out a gasp. His tongue touched my clitoris then slid down into my crack. Warmer and softer than a finger, the feeling was exquisite. He lapped at my hole which I knew was oozing my juices. He had started slowly but steadily he increased the speed of the rhythmic movement.
I knew that I was trying to teach Albert restraint but I could not stop myself from being carried away on the wave of orgasm. I sighed and arched my back as the pleasure took me. He sucked greedily on my fanny gripping my buttocks in his strong hands then gently allowed me to subside panting on to the couch. Albert stood up and I was delighted to see his penis still proudly erect. I slid from the couch onto my knees in front of him and eagerly caressed the magnificent tool. I took care not to grip it to hard but touched and flicked my fingers up and down the shaft, under and around his balls and the crack between his cheeks. I was torn between wanting to give him satisfaction and achieving my task. I am afraid to say that the former won and in a few moments he too shuddered and a fountain of white foam spurted over me.
Albert laughed. “We start again,” he said while Helga harrumphed in the background. The next day, Friday, we again had just one accidental orgasm and on the Saturday, we reached the chimes for six of the clock with not even one. Bea was again watching over us and had shown considerable interest in Albert’s eager exploration of my bosom and fanny. Now I was ever so carefully caressing Albert’s erect member and touching the tip gently with my fingertips. At the end of the hour, he was begging to be allowed to come and his penis almost trembled with impatience. As the hall clock struck six Bea left her seat and came towards us. “Well done Victoria, you can stop now.” She pushed me gently but firmly to the side and knelt in front of Albert. She opened her mouth and lent forward so that her lips surrounded the glowing head of Albert’s penis. Albert groaned as his knob disappeared into Bea’s mouth. Although I considered Albert’s penis to be exceptionally long and thick, still Bea inched forward taking more and more of it down her throat. Albert staggered and steadied himself by placing his hands on her head. His hips jerked as if to thrust his manhood further into her. I could not believe it when her nose finally rubbed against his pubic hair. Almost immediately Albert shuddered and his hips vibrated rapidly. I thought Bea would choke but she held onto his thighs while he shot his load straight down her gullet. Moments later he edged backwards, and his penis emerged shrunken and wrinkled. Bea gasped and took quick, deep breaths. She licked her lips and looked at me triumphantly. “There, that’s how you avoid getting semen on your clothes.” She laughed while I still looked at her in wonderment. “How do you do that? How can you swallow a huge cock and not gag?”
“I don’t know, Victoria. It’s just something I can do. I know that very few girls can do it even if they have tried. But the boys like it.” I looked at Albert still standing and swaying slightly with a blissful expression on his face. I began to pull my slip over my head. “Tomorrow, I have to face Madame,” I said sadly. “Do not worry, Victoria,” Bea replied kindly, “while you had some misadventures earlier you have shown today that you can keep Albert excited for an hour without allowing him to reach orgasm. That is a very great skill. I am sure you have already discovered that though Madame sticks to her word, she likes to mix rewards with punishment.” She gave me one of her knowing smiles and I wondered if she too had been disciplined by Madame Thackeray. I looked forward to the next day with curiosity as well as apprehension.
THE END
***
The oil lamp gave me a ghostly appearance in the long mirror due to my white-stockinged legs, white satin bloomers and corset, and the white skin of my face and exposed breasts. The only contrast was my brown hair and my small red nipples. For the first time since I had arrived at the Venus college for Young Ladies some six weeks earlier, I stood in the study of Madame Thackeray, the Principal. Why I was there I wasn’t sure. Somehow, I had displeased her while pleasuring young Albert during the evening’s lesson. Now I stood patiently awaiting her, standing beside her desk and looking at my image. To my right was a large bed, as this was Madame’s bedroom as well her office. The bed had heavy wooden head- and foot-boards with pineapple-shaped knobs at each corner. At the foot of the bed was a strange, waist-high stool. It was in the form of an elephant standing on four sturdy legs. Its trunk and two curved tusks pressed against the bed and it had a broad, padded leather back.
I turned my gaze to Madame’s desk. It bore just four items, two of which were framed photographs. One showed two ladies which I recognised in the dim light as being Madame Thackeray herself and Madame Hulot, her companion and assistant. They were dressed in light blouses and dark skirts and carried parasols. The other photo was a different style entirely as it showed a naked woman facing the photographer with a fine scarf suspended lazily from her right hand. She appeared to have no body hair whatsoever. I peered closely and was a little astonished to confirm that the figure was Madame Hulot. The other two items on the desk also seemed rather incongruous for that of a college principal. One was a black leather riding crop and the other was a magnificent ebony phallus. I bent to look at the latter more closely. It was broader and longer than the glass instruments that Madame had given us to practise with, and it had a pair of fist-sized testicles at one end. The other end was a helmet-shaped knob so large that I thought I would barely be able to get my hand around it. I could not imagine what use such a tool could be put to, but further examination was prevented by the scbang of the door opening. I stood up straight.
Madame swept in, circled me and sat at the chair behind her desk. Although surely in her early forties she was a handsome woman with long fair hair piled up on her head. She rested her hands on the leather desktop and looked up at me. “What is your purpose here, Victoria,” she asked curtly. “To study the arts and sciences required to manage our future husband’s household and affairs and to satisfy him in any way that he desires,” I recited the oft-heard catechism of Madame Thackeray’s college. “That is correct, Victoria, but you disappoint me. You have shown great aptitude for the arts of love but it seems that you cannot resist taking pleasure yourself.”
“But, Madame,” I protested, “You taught us to find pleasure in being touched and how to arouse excitement in our private parts.”
“I did indeed and valuable lessons they are, but what you have not yet learned is that there is a time to indulge your own pleasure and a time to devote to servicing your lover. Caressing and coaxing the male member requires all your attention, not least in preventing him from reaching a climax too soon. Instead of using both hands on your man you had one hand up your fanny.”
“I am sorry, Madame.”
“You will be, Victoria. However, there is another matter and that concerns Albert. He has a marvellous attribute and will be a great asset to us here, but he is inexperienced and spurts far too readily. As well as learning your own lesson you must teach him restraint.” I was nonplussed; what did Madame mean? She answered my unspoken question immediately.
“You will spend an hour each day before supper, handling Albert’s magnificent cock. You will ensure he retains his erection for the whole hour without ejaculating and you will refrain from fingering yourself in that time. A senior girl will observe and record transgressions. Next Sunday you will report to me at three of the clock and we will examine your progress. Each failure will be rewarded with a stroke of this.” Madame raised the crop and brandished it at me, “And now I will give you a taste of what to expect if you fail.” My heart beat faster as I realised that she intended to beat me. “Remove your bloomers if you please, Victoria.” I had little choice but to obey Madame. I tugged on the ribbon at my waist. The bow undid and the garment duly dropped to the floor. I stepped out of it.
“Now bend over the elephant.” The purpose of the strange stool had become apparent. I stepped slowly and fearfully towards it. When my thighs rested against the cool leather, Madame pushed against the small of my back with the riding crop. I bent forward until my stomach was resting on the padded back of the elephant. My arms and my hair dangled down. “Further,” Madame urged. I raised myself up on the tip of my toes and found myself delicately balanced on the elephant’s back. I felt Madame’s slippered foot slide between my ankles and push my legs apart. My feet lost contact with the floor and I really was lying across the stool. I was very conscious that my buttocks were as exposed as they could be, as were my most private parts.
I lay there listening to Madame’s soft breaths as some moments passed. Not even my dear, strict father had beaten me before so I had no idea what to expect. I trembled in anticipation. There was a fizz through the air and my left buttock burst into flame. I yelped, but before I could take a breath there came another screech of the crop and my right buttock exploded. “Please, Madame,” I appealed, but to no avail as the crop scorched across my left cheek a second time. I tried to struggle off the stool. “Be still, Victoria,” She was breathing deeply now, but her energy was not expended as the crop came down again on my right buttock. I screamed out, as it felt that both my cheeks were aflame. “That is enough for now,” Madame said soothingly. I remained thrown over the whipping stool like a sack of potatoes over a donkey. I sobbed but the pain began to subside a little. I felt a pressure in the small of my back, a finger that began to slide between my cheeks. It lingered, circling around my arsehole. Despite the smouldering fire in my buttocks the touch was like an electric shock. It became the centre of my attention. The finger moved on, parting my lips and slipping inside. I realised that my juices were flowing. The finger delved deeper and was joined by its neighbours and by a thumb that felt for and found my swelling button. I groaned as the pleasure competed with the pain of the beating. In fact, the pleasure seemed greater than I had ever experienced. In a few moments I was moaning as pulses of indescribable desire rippled through my abdomen. My thighs shook uncontrollably and I came with a gasp and cry. The hand withdrew. “There, that will teach you something, Victoria. Pain and pleasure complement each other, the former raising the latter to a new plane of sensation. You may dismount now.”
A little wriggling shifted my weight so that I slid off the elephant and onto my unsteady legs. I turned to face Madame. She was standing holding the door open, my bloomers dangling from an outstretched finger. “Don’t forget – five of the clock each evening, in the drawing room. Return to your room now.” I grabbed the under-garment and fled from the room and up the stairs. When I reached my bedroom, I flung myself face down on the bed. My bottom still burned but my thoughts were of the ecstasy that Madame had given me. Barely a few moments passed before there was a knock on the door, and a whispered voice asked, “Victoria, are you there?” I recognised the French accent of my friend, Natalie. “Come in,” I called, my voice breaking somewhat. The door opened. “Oh, Victoria, what has happened to you?” Natalie approached me and I could see her wide eyes staring at my bottom. “Has Madame beaten you? You have a cross of red marks on your smooth, white bottom.” I explained what Madame had said and the punishment I had received. Natalie laid her hand gently on my bottom. “Ooh, I can feel the heat still,” Then I began to describe how Madame had caressed me. “Do you mean like this,” Natalie’s finger traced out the same path as Madame’s and again my loins trembled with the delectable pleasure. “Yes, just like that,” I moaned. Natalie pressed her hand between my swollen lips. “You are indeed excited, Victoria. I am sure that just a little movement like this,” her fingers rubbed in and out of my vagina, “will make you come.” “I … I think you are correct,” I gasped as the tremulations increased to a climax. Afterwards we lay together on the bed and discussed the strange way that the beating I had been given seemed to make me quicker to achieve orgasm.
“Perhaps, Madame will find occasion to use her whip, on me,” said Natalie almost wistfully. As the clock in the hallway struck five, I entered the drawing room. My room-mate, Beatrice, one year my senior, was sitting on a couch, sewing in the light of the sun that was about to set beyond the mountain peaks. As I stepped towards her, I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see Albert joining us. Bea put down her work and looked at each of us. “Good afternoon, Albert,” Albert nodded his head in greeting, “Hello, Victoria. You know what you have to do.” I turned to face Albert and pressed a hand against his groin. His cock was already hard and straining at his lederhosen.
“You are not going to do it in those clothes are you, Victoria?” Bea’s voice carried a note of authority. I looked down at my long grey woollen skirt and high-necked, long-sleeved, white linen blouse, “You do not want to get semen on your day uniform. Take it off.” I had no argument to put to Bea, so unbuttoned my blouse and slipped it off my shoulders, then unfastened my skirt and let it drop to the floor. I stepped out of it and stood somewhat self-consciously in my slip. “And the rest,” I looked at Bea questioningly, “Yes, I said take off your slip. Don’t waste time.” Bea seemed to enjoy giving me orders. I grasped the hem of my slip and pulled it up over my head. For the first time in my life, I stood unclothed in front of a man, well a boy, as that was all that Albert was really. His eyes widened as he took in the full sight of my naked body. His adoring look immediately excited me and I felt my nipples swell and perk up. I began to sway from side to side feeling extremely sensuous. My breasts swung in response to my movement and Albert’s head followed them. “Now release him, and get down to work,” I came to my senses and remembered what I was supposed to be doing. I knelt in front of Albert and undid the buttons of his flies. Before I had finished his erect penis pushed through the suede leather and throbbed a few inches from my face. He pushed the braces from his shoulders and the shorts slid down his legs. He pulled his smock over his head and then stood naked but for his knee-length woollen socks and the slippers that the men wore inside the house. The rays of the sunset streamed through the window and illuminated his body. His skin seemed to give off a golden glow. I gazed at his marvellous tool, so long, so broad, so firm. There was a tingling between my legs and I lowered my arm so that my hand could find its way between my thighs. My fingers found my crack.
“Victoria, I can see what you are doing. That’s one black mark against you.” Bea’s sharp words wakened me as if from a dream. I remembered Madame’s command that I must not pleasure myself but concentrate on Albert. I resolved to do as I was told. I placed my right hand under Albert’s testicles and felt their weight on my palm. I caressed his scrotum with my fingers, the coarse curly hairs like a nest. I encircled my left hand around his shaft, my fingertips just meeting my thumb. I pushed my hand away from me pulling back his foreskin. His shiny, purple knob appeared and the tiny hole in the tip gaped. Albert moaned. I looked up to see that he had thrown his head back and he had clenched his fists either side of his thighs. I closed my right hand around his balls and pulled my left hand towards me. The glans disappeared in the folds of the foreskin. I repeated the movement just once but that was enough. Albert moaned again and shuddered and thick white semen gushed out of the penis and covered my bosom. It dribbled down between my two breasts. I released Albert’s penis and testicles from my grip.
“That’s hardly a good start, Victoria,” Bea’s sneer indicated her low opinion of my skills, “it hasn’t been five minutes yet. You’ve got to hold him at the edge for an hour. You had better start again.” Albert had sunk to the floor and was lying stretched out on his back on the thick carpet. His penis, though still three or four inches in length, flopped flaccidly against a thigh. “What should I do?” I appealed to Bea. “Caress him, his whole body, not just his cock. Use your bosom.” I knelt beside Albert and allowed my fingers to wander over his smooth hairless chest. He murmured with satisfaction. I lowered myself further until my nipples touched his skin then I moved from side to side so that my breasts made random curved patterns over his abdomen. The movement gave me pleasure too and my nipples become as hard as acorns. Albert opened his eyes and stared at me with a look of utter amazement. I glanced at his groin and saw his penis stir. I continued to move but watched in fascination as his cock unfolded and grew. It rose higher and higher straining towards the ceiling. The purple head forced its way through the foreskin and emerged like the fruit of some tropical plant. I was surprised by the light touch of fingers on my breasts. I looked round and saw Albert’s hands cupping and caressing my bosom. The touch sent a thrill to my stomach and beyond. I could feel my lips swelling and parting. I was in a dreamy state of pleasure and unable to think as my hand slipped between the folds of my vulva.
“Victoria! That’s twice.” I withdrew my hand and awoke with a start. I knew that Bea would report my misdemeanours to Madame Thackeray and my buttocks tingled with the anticipation of another beating. Albert continued to massage my breasts while I leaned over him. He was stretching his legs and pointing his toes. I reached out my right hand to grasp his erect tool, but as I did, he was convulsed with a spasm and another glob of semen spurted from the hole. “Well, I suppose that was a bit better. At least he lasted fifteen minutes that time.” Bea sighed, “You still have forty minutes left, Victoria.” It took a little longer to revive Albert after his second ejaculation but allowing him to play with my breasts and nipples kept his attention. I ran my hands all over his young, taut limbs and trunk, exploring a man’s body for the first time. It was so much firmer than a female’s, the muscles hard beneath the silky skin. He explored my body too, his long, supple fingers tracing the marks of the crop on my buttocks. His long, eager cock trembled and waved as we embraced and moved over each other but I succeeded in restraining him from another orgasm. My resolve only slipped as the clock struck six. He was kneeling over me and I reached between his legs to grasp his tool with both hands.
Albert groaned and arched his back. White drops of semen dripped on to my stomach. “Your time is up, Victoria. You can dress now Albert.” Albert stood up and pulled on his lederhosen while I lay back exhausted. The next day at the same time, Albert and I met again in the drawing room. We undressed and got to work caressing each other. Today it was Helga who was supervising us and waiting for me to make a mistake. Helga was a big, fair German girl whose conversation seemed to consist of shouted commands. Albert and I had been busy for about twenty minutes without mishap when my hand slipped between my legs. Helga was vigilant. “Nein, Victoria. You must not,” she bawled. Albert paused in his manipulation of my breasts and spoke to Helga in German. They proceeded to have a conversation. At last, he turned to me and smiled broadly. “I have explained your task to Albert,” Helga explained loudly, “He now understands that you are not allowed to play with your own private parts but he asks if there is any reason why he should not touch you there.” Helga shrugged, “If he wishes to do so I see no reason why he should not.”
Albert reached out, took my hand and guided me to the couch. He beckoned for me to sit down. When I had done so he knelt at my feet. I lay back and he pushed my knees apart and gazed adoringly at the wonders that I kept between my legs. I could not see much of what was happening from my reclining position but I imagined that his penis was still firm and wobbling gently. Albert placed his hand on the softest skin at the top of my thigh and wound the short curly hairs around his forefinger. Then he used both hands to peel my lips apart. He lowered his head until his hair and ears touched the skin of my legs. I was waiting for something but I was not sure what was to come. The muscles in my buttocks were tense and my fanny throbbed. When the touch finally came, I let out a gasp. His tongue touched my clitoris then slid down into my crack. Warmer and softer than a finger, the feeling was exquisite. He lapped at my hole which I knew was oozing my juices. He had started slowly but steadily he increased the speed of the rhythmic movement.
I knew that I was trying to teach Albert restraint but I could not stop myself from being carried away on the wave of orgasm. I sighed and arched my back as the pleasure took me. He sucked greedily on my fanny gripping my buttocks in his strong hands then gently allowed me to subside panting on to the couch. Albert stood up and I was delighted to see his penis still proudly erect. I slid from the couch onto my knees in front of him and eagerly caressed the magnificent tool. I took care not to grip it to hard but touched and flicked my fingers up and down the shaft, under and around his balls and the crack between his cheeks. I was torn between wanting to give him satisfaction and achieving my task. I am afraid to say that the former won and in a few moments he too shuddered and a fountain of white foam spurted over me.
Albert laughed. “We start again,” he said while Helga harrumphed in the background. The next day, Friday, we again had just one accidental orgasm and on the Saturday, we reached the chimes for six of the clock with not even one. Bea was again watching over us and had shown considerable interest in Albert’s eager exploration of my bosom and fanny. Now I was ever so carefully caressing Albert’s erect member and touching the tip gently with my fingertips. At the end of the hour, he was begging to be allowed to come and his penis almost trembled with impatience. As the hall clock struck six Bea left her seat and came towards us. “Well done Victoria, you can stop now.” She pushed me gently but firmly to the side and knelt in front of Albert. She opened her mouth and lent forward so that her lips surrounded the glowing head of Albert’s penis. Albert groaned as his knob disappeared into Bea’s mouth. Although I considered Albert’s penis to be exceptionally long and thick, still Bea inched forward taking more and more of it down her throat. Albert staggered and steadied himself by placing his hands on her head. His hips jerked as if to thrust his manhood further into her. I could not believe it when her nose finally rubbed against his pubic hair. Almost immediately Albert shuddered and his hips vibrated rapidly. I thought Bea would choke but she held onto his thighs while he shot his load straight down her gullet. Moments later he edged backwards, and his penis emerged shrunken and wrinkled. Bea gasped and took quick, deep breaths. She licked her lips and looked at me triumphantly. “There, that’s how you avoid getting semen on your clothes.” She laughed while I still looked at her in wonderment. “How do you do that? How can you swallow a huge cock and not gag?”
“I don’t know, Victoria. It’s just something I can do. I know that very few girls can do it even if they have tried. But the boys like it.” I looked at Albert still standing and swaying slightly with a blissful expression on his face. I began to pull my slip over my head. “Tomorrow, I have to face Madame,” I said sadly. “Do not worry, Victoria,” Bea replied kindly, “while you had some misadventures earlier you have shown today that you can keep Albert excited for an hour without allowing him to reach orgasm. That is a very great skill. I am sure you have already discovered that though Madame sticks to her word, she likes to mix rewards with punishment.” She gave me one of her knowing smiles and I wondered if she too had been disciplined by Madame Thackeray. I looked forward to the next day with curiosity as well as apprehension.
THE END
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