Augustus and Lady Maude Read online

  Obliging her to stand up, he next had Michele lying on the sofa where he examined with great care the state of things between her legs.

  Here, too, he was most thorough in testing her moral responses to the intrusion of a warm phallus. Indeed, he was more than justified by the result as he worked his stiffness in and out between her spread thighs. Who could doubt the moral response? We heard her, through teeth that clenched and ground with animal excitement, Michele groaning randily, “Fuck… Oh, fuck… Shit… Bollocks… Shit…

  Fuck… Shit!” The moral niceness of Lord Augustus may be observed by the fact that he again restrained himself from spending.

  Indeed, the consequences might have been graver, involving a swollen belly for Michele! Getting up from the leather sofa, he left Michele lying there and made her wait for what he was going to do to her. He had positioned her on her side, her back to the room, though she soon flicked aside the slant of brown hair and looked over her shoulder with sardonic lasciviousness in her crude young mouth and narrowed eyes. The white singlet ended at her waist, leaving her pale skin bare from that point down to her feet. She lay there looking like the most vulgar child of Venus. Her hind cheeks are trim and resilient as befits her youth, yet they fill to deliciously taut round globes when she touches her toes or thrusts her seat out. A woman's lines are emergent in that part of her figure. One cannot blame Lord Augustus for giving such long and loving attention to the bare rounded pallor of Michele's agile young bottom! With a truly randy young fifth-form girl there was no need to use threats or reprimand. An aristocratic finger dipped in vaseline-and he became Michele's teacher! The little vamp was instructed to turn over on her belly a moment and raise her trim young behind towards him. There were gasps and expressions of alarm from Michele at what he was doing to her young backside. But these were surely slanders to compromise him.

  To be sure, the sofa creaked in a steady rhythm but that was the girl's restlessness. His lordship gasped with the exertion of instructing the young pupil. He was giving her a lesson in female anatomy, a most worthy endeavour. He remarked that the pussy-flesh between her legs was soft, that Michele's anus was thrillingly tight, and that no amount of sperm would engender an infant in her rear. But these are mere matters of scientific fact. Yet his words would be wilfully misconstrued by our country's enemies. The truth is shown by his moral resolve. After a dish of Earl Grey tea he made Michele bend over the study desk. For a moment she tried to argue and resist. The little slut even threatened to tell tales of the past hour's antics if he attempted to thrash her. Lord Augustus met the challenge easily. He informed her that she would be in no position to tell tales anywhere for the next five years. That was the term of reformatory life which he proposed to add to her stay in that place-as its trustee and as a magistrate-for the obvious lewdness and contempt for propriety which he had found in her this afternoon. When she was twenty, she might tell what tales she wished-if she could find anyone who would bother to listen. He allowed her one choice only. Michele might either bend over the desk of her own accord or be strapped down by two of the servants. She did as she was told and he drew the singlet hem up above her waist, until Michele's hips and backside were completely bare. He went to the cupboard and chose a prison bamboo which was wickedly long and supple. At the same time he took care to leave the study door ajar, for there was everything to be gained by letting the rest of us see what a severe moralist he could be. You may be sure that, as she lay forward on the broad desk, Michele had twisted her face round anxiously to watch him, the hair swept aside, the brown eyes and pale complexion a study in fright. One could see her roused little cunt between the rear of her firm young thighs, and the pale cheeks of the girl-pupil's bottom were presented in a womanly posture.

  Lord Augustus teased her for five or ten minutes, touching the cane this way and that across her smooth young buttocks, as if taking his aim with great care. At last his jaw hardened and he slashed the cane down with vicious force across the bare cheeks of the schoolgirl bum. Michele leapt up from the desk with a screech and clapped her hands over her arse. Lord Augustus shook his head and beckoned two servants. These stalwart fellows seized the girl and held her over the desk with the power of their muscular arms. For the next half hour, Lord Augustus avenged the outrages which Michele had offered to propriety and decency in the brief period of her delinquent career. He measured each stroke of the cane with loving accuracy, made her wait for it, and then gave it with exemplary force. Michele writhed in frantic anticipation even before the bamboo whipped across her young backside. As the agony of the stroke blistered her smooth rear cheeks, she yelled with all the power of her healthy young lungs. He raised the finest bamboo weals across Michele's bare fifteen-year-old bottom that any of us could recall seeing that summer on any of the fifth-form girls. Twice he broke a cane across her young backside in his enthusiasm and once as he was bambooing the rear of her thighs.

  What a rewarding change he produced-from the moral point of view-in this little hussy. The sleek and slanting coiffure of the little vamp was now a disordered spread of brown hair. The hard and narrowed brown eyes brimmed over, the crude young mouth howled and yelled. It is not customary in such places to go beyond thirty-six strokes of the cane given to such a girl, though one does not keep a count. Afterwards it was rumoured that Lord Augustus far exceeded this. Who could say? Several of the weals had bestowed a tiny red trickle down one cheek or other of Michele's young arse! However, one accepts such incidents with equanimity in the moral discipline of the reformatory. The afternoon's events proved that our faith in the young nobleman's potential to fulfil his role in society had been entirely justified. Indeed, he returned a fortnight later and employed the pony-lash upon the bare cheeks of Michele's pretty backside. His reward went for beyond the moral satisfaction felt by a man of noble birth in doing his duty. After these sessions with young Michele, it was observed that he always hurried home to Lady Nerissa. The delightful young couple were apt to retire to bed early and rise late on such occasions. It would be idle to speculate upon the cause. Yet the beautiful Nerissa radiates calm and satisfaction for days after her lord has done his duty on Michele and her kind. There is need of young blood in the affairs of the county. Mr. Bowler and Lord Rupert are still vigorous, but old Justice Snook is somewhat past his prime. After dinner he retires to his study and his memories. The drawers of his desk are crammed with drawers of a different kind, stripped from the young women whom he has had under discipline these many years. He will study a handful of skimpy and silken translucence, smiling at the images these panties recall, of a harem lash smacking across the agile young cheeks of Sarah Thome's bottom. Or else he chooses a pair of black briefs in cotton web, musing upon this example of young Madam Hollingsworth's knickers. There are the trophies of Maggie and Julie, Noreen and the others to awaken smiles on his senile old face. Leave the old gentleman with the memorabilia of an honoured past! Lord Augustus is the new man. His friends declare that he is never more content than when he spends two or three afternoons a week doing his duty of moral reformation. He knows every curve and crease of Michele's fifth-form backside or Elaine's tomboy bottom.

  His duty done, he mounts his horse and rides home to the manor house. To see him is to know that all is well. England is in safe hands. With legs and backsides bare, Pauline and Elaine seek sisterly consolation in each other's arms! Their tears still flow a little.

  Pauline bewails the whip-stripes across her fat young buttocks. As for the younger sister, Elaine's tomboy backside promises a fine panorama of bruises the next day. Is there a splash of male passion on Pauline's thigh? A vaseline smear between Elaine's sturdy adolescent bum-cheeks? The tone of public life will not be improved by dwelling on such matters. Lord Augustus rides on. How can one not admire the system which inspires such allegiance? He needs no pair of Sarah Thome's panties to browse upon tonight. The young lord glows with the exhilaration of moral accomplishment. Unlike old Justice Snook, he needs no mementoes in order to reca
ll his days of vigour. Such things are the province of randy boys and old men. Let us not, however, pretend a sanctimonious ignorance in such matters. Lord Augustus is in fine form after a session in his official study with Pauline and Elaine. He can hardly contain himself until he is close enough to leap upon Lady Nerissa and roger that dear girl as if life itself depended on the release. And does it not depend upon it? Do not the lives and safety of us all, the hope of the county and the Tory party, depend upon Lord Augustus doing his marital duty with such enthusiasm?

  The severest whipping on the young buttocks of Michele or Elke would be justified by the effect which the chastisement of adolescent beauty may have upon the young nobleman's amorous energies. Let him hurry home and beget a little Augustus to rule over us all in the future. So long as we remember our allegiance to the young gentleman and his successors, we and our own children shall come to no harm. Neither republicanism nor anarchy shall ever darken this fair land of ours.

  The descendants of Lord Augustus shall stretch out to the crack of doom. When the day comes, you may be sure that his lordship's descendants will not begrudge one minute of their duty in reforming the manners of the daughters of the present gang of sluts and trollops who infest our towns and villages. That is our security for the future. We must not pry upon Lord Augustus and Lady Nerissa in their naked embraces. Yet as his lordship shoves his manhood into her, and thuds home with mighty thrusts of his loins, it would be a churlish fellow who did not charge a glass and wish him success. And if the salvo should hit the mark in her ladyship's womb, shall we not all raise our voices and give him a rousing 'three-times three?

  As he is still young and with so many accomplishments yet before him, it would not be surprising if there were to be a sequel to the events of the present summer. Yet for the moment, the editor takes leave of the patient reader and-as manager of his own peepshow-here rings down the curtain upon the little drama of Augustus and his cousin, Lady Maude. finis