Old-Fashioned Values (19 page)

“Yes, sir,” Rachel replied softly.

“Have you wanted to have your bottom taken by your master for a long time?”

“Yes, sir.”

John turned to Sally. “What about you, young lady? Do you think you’re ready to make this most important submission to the man who has taken you in hand?”

Sally didn’t take her eyes off Mark. “Yes, Dr. Gammon,” she said, very clearly.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Mark had absolutely known what John was going to say, Sally thought. He must have. Mingled shame and anxiety flowed through Sally’s body like an electric current, joining at her pussy with the tingling arousal she knew so well now. She had known it—though she had for a long while refused to admit to herself that she felt it—ever since Mark had said he would spank her for saying ‘fuck’ on their second date.

“But, sir,” she said softly and just to him, though she knew that John and Rachel watched her very closely, “does it have to be tonight? Couldn’t we… wait—just a week or two?” The words came from her heart, but in them she heard, as she seemed to hear so often these days, that a deeply buried part of her had decided to test the resolve of the man she increasingly thought of as her lord. Something in her loved it all too much to let her forsake the chance to push, and see what happened.

She saw Mark glance at John with the slightest flash of uncertainty. She kept her eyes on Mark’s face, though, and almost immediately he looked back at her again. “No, Sal,” he said. “It’s going to be tonight.”

“Oh, sir. Please. Maybe I’m not ready after all.” She felt tears of shame and fright come into her eyes, but that only seemed to heighten her pussy’s response inside the lace panties Mark had specified for the evening, underneath the nice blue skirt she had put on for dinner.

The beast awoke in Mark’s eyes, and Sally drew breath sharply to see it there, arising so much more readily than it had ever appeared before. “Sally,” Mark said, somehow raising his voice without increasing its volume at all. “I don’t want to have to spank you first, but that’s where you’re headed.”

Now Sally darted her eyes over to Rachel, who seemed to be trying to work out whether Sally really meant the reluctance she professed. Rachel said, “Sally, you know you told me…”

“Quiet, young lady,” John said. “This is between Sally and Mark. Do you need a spanking, too?”

“No, sir,” Rachel said, desperately chewing on her lips to avoid smiling.

“Sally?” Mark said. “Answer me. Are you going to be a good girl for me when I take your bottom tonight?”

Sally looked desperately at him. Rachel had been going to remind her, Sally was sure, that just the previous week Sally had confessed to her that she couldn’t stop fantasizing about Mark fucking her bottom. Rachel had said in a voice filled with relief, “Thank you for saying that—it’s the same way for me, with John.”

Silence succeeded for a long, long moment. Then Mark said, “Sally, go to our room and wait for me there.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to spank you.”

“Oh, please, sir…”

“Mark,” Rachel said. “I don’t think…”

“Rachel,” John said, “go get your hairbrush.”

Sally had the sensation that she was on some kind of merry-go-round that seemed to go faster and faster, and you weren’t sure you liked it but it was definitely, absolutely the most excitement you thought your body could handle. Except that this merry-go-round of dominance and submission involved your heart and your soul and your mind as well.

“Sir!” Rachel said. “I’m just…”

“Young lady, go get your hairbrush. If I have to ask you again, you’ll be very sorry.”

Sally watched Rachel get up, for the moment so caught up in the authority of John’s tone that she didn’t even remember that her lord had given her an analogous command.

“Sally,” Mark said. “Get going, please.”

By the time Sally reached the top of the stairs, where the house’s five bedrooms opened off a broad landing, Rachel had already begun to cry out under the angry thud of the hairbrush on her bare bottom. Sally swallowed hard and walked through the door of the bedroom John had showed them when they first arrived that afternoon. She flipped on the light, and saw again how lovely the room was, with the chenille coverlet on the four-poster bed and the paintings of the boats in Vineyard Haven harbor.

To her surprise, she started to cry. Mark came in right behind her, and she turned to look at him, feeling the tears stream down her face. His face, which had been set in an expression not angry but determined, shaped itself instantly into a look of concern, and he crossed the distance to her in two steps and took her into his arms, just holding her tightly for a long moment.

“You know I want to,” she whispered.

“Mm-hmm,” he murmured back, the vibrations from his chest seeming to soothe her nerves.

“But I need you to make me.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Do you think… I mean, is that wrong? That… that I want you to spank me before you make me… do that? Because all of a sudden I just felt like I wasn’t normal, and I shouldn’t be in a nice room in a nice house on Martha’s Vineyard. This kind of house… well, my parents’ friends have houses like this, and they’re all, you know, normal. And I’m not normal.”

“Oh, Sal. Nobody’s normal. Nobody.”

“Oh,” Sally said. “I guess I never… You mean that lots of people want to do… that, and they do it in every kind of house?” She giggled a little through her tears, to think about all the different kinds of ladies who might be having their bottoms fucked right now, all over the world.

“Yes,” Mark said, nodding, “and other stuff. But it’s not the stuff they do that matters. What matters is that people do the things that make them feel like they’re living a real life.”

Down below, they heard Rachel wailing in pain, and then falling silent. Aftercare must have begun.

“Come have your spanking, Sal. Just a little one.”

“Okay, sir,” she replied.

Mark sat in an old Windsor chair and Sally laid herself over his lap. He raised her skirt to bare her bottom in the pretty lace panties, announced that he wanted to spank her in those panties, and then he did, with his hand, ten times in the middle, ten times on each cheek, and ten more in the middle. Sally sniffled as she felt her bottom growing warmer and warmer, but she resolved to be a good girl for her spanking, and so she grasped the legs of the chair and pushed her bottom up the way she knew her lord liked, loving the knowledge that he thought she looked cute and sexy in the lacy panties.

Afterward, Mark rubbed her there for a very long time, while she gave little moans, and he murmured things like, “Mustn’t get too excited yet, young lady. You still have dishes to do,” and, “So naughty and yet so very good.”

Finally, he stood her up silently, and hugged her very, very tightly.

“Time to help Rachel with the dishes,” he said.

“I love you, sir.”

“I love you, too, young lady.”

Rachel waited at the bottom of the stairs, and Sally hugged her hard there. Rachel’s eyes shone with tears the way Sally knew hers must also, but now she couldn’t help smiling in answer to Rachel’s smile, too. Suddenly to know that they would, in this very strange way, share the experience of undergoing this most shameful of all erotic acts—the one they had confessed to one another they longed for—made Sally’s heart feel very light.

“Let’s do the dishes very slowly,” Rachel whispered. “Okay?”

Sally giggled. “Okay.”

Mark and John had gone to ‘get ready,’ as John put it, by the time the last dish was put away. Sally shivered as she wondered what getting ready meant, and what would await her in the lovely bedroom. Rachel hugged her one last time, on the landing, and then both girls entered the rooms where they would yield their bottoms up to their masters.

“Close the door,” Mark said softly. He stood by the bed, still fully clothed. He had put two pillows in the middle of the bed, and Sally had no illusions about what they were for, though she of course blushed all the same to see the preparation made so matter-of-factly. She would be naked, she would go over the pillows, and her bottom would be proffered to the man who would now deflower it. Next to Mark on the bed lay two other things; when Sally had closed the door behind her and turned back, she realized, a fiery blush seeming to consume her face and her heart beating a mile a minute, that they could only be a tube of lube and a blue butt plug.

“Come here, Sally,” Mark said. Then, when she stood before him, “Strip down to your panties and get over the pillows.”

“Shouldn’t I take my panties off?” she said, with a little quaver in her voice.

“Do as I’ve said, Sally,” Mark replied calmly.

Sally swallowed. She unzipped her skirt and let it drop, then took off her sweater and bra, feeling Mark’s eyes on her breasts the way they always seemed to fix an appreciative glance when she uncovered herself. To her startlement, he reached out and took her left breast gently in his hand, to play with the nipple and make her whimper.

“Mine,” he said. He had never said anything like that before, and it seemed to move the fire of the blush instantly down into her pussy. She moaned.

“Over the pillows now.”

Down the hall, Rachel gave a faint, ambiguous shriek. Pleasure? Pain? Both in one? “Oh, God,” Sally whispered.

“Do as I’ve said,” Mark commanded. “Or I’ll have to tie you up and take your bottom that way.”

Sally moaned at that, too, and couldn’t help saying, “Oh, not yet. I’ll be good.” She had been hoping for weeks and weeks that Mark would tie her up. But to have that and her first anal at the same time would be too much. She clambered onto the bed, blushing anew as she offered her lace-pantied bottom to her lord.

Then she realized how wonderful the position really was. She had been in versions of it dozens of times, of course, but not for this. She had been spanked, whipped, and fucked this way, with her face away from her lord’s, but she had never been… trained. That was it: this was the perfect position for Mark to begin training her to please him in this most important, most wicked of ways. She could not know what he was going to do; he had the lesson, and he would deliver it, in the region such a lesson belonged.

Idly, she wondered for a moment why for her there seemed to exist such a strange, strong link between her backside and education, but Mark drove the thought away with a kiss to her right bottom-cheek that made her giggle. He kissed her left cheek, and then he kissed her right in the middle, right where under the little strip of lace lay her untried anus, and that made Sally sigh, blush, and dampen the little lace panties terribly.

Then, to her shock, he hooked his fingers under the lace, pulled the gusset of her panties aside, and laid it across her right bottom cheek. “Oh!” Sally exclaimed, wondering why it felt so much more shameful to know that Mark was looking at her back there, down there, even though her panties were still on.

“These panties are so pretty, sweetheart, that I couldn’t bear to take them off you yet. You’ll have your anal training with them like this. Then I’ll take them off, when I fuck your bottom.”

“My anal training?” Sally squeaked, her heart pounding.

“We have to get you ready for my cock,” Mark said matter-of-factly.
We:
because of course as Mark’s taken-in-hand girlfriend, Sally must above all do Mark’s bidding and follow Mark’s wishes. Mark wished to fuck Sally in her bottom, and so the project of preparing her virgin anus for his lordly, erect penis fell upon both their shoulders. “Then, in the future, we’ll keep training you there until anal is something we both enjoy.”

“What?” But Sally knew, because it was an essential part of the fantasy. Anal was something Mark enjoyed and Sally endured—at least in the beginning. It was the ultimate sign of her submission to him, for that very reason—like taking him in her mouth, but more shameful and somehow symbolically much greater.

“A girl doesn’t feel as much pleasure in her anus as she does in her pussy, of course. And, as you know, it’s shameful to be fucked there.”

“Oh… I…” Mark seemed so much more confident than he had been earlier, and it made Sally very happy even as it increased her apprehension for her little bottom-hole. Also, it made her pussy flow so greatly with arousal that she started to worry she might get dehydrated before the act was consummated.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Talk as dirty as you possibly can, and as shamefully,” John had said right before they parted ways. “Make her feel like your property, and like it’s your pleasure that matters. I promise you that Sally is the kind of girl who will absolutely love it. I have a feeling that you’ll find, when you meet her family, that Sally has the sort of parents who tried so hard to demystify sex that it made her yearn in the opposite direction—it also made her, paradoxically enough, able to enjoy being humiliated. When that happens, you get a girl who loves to hear you call her a come-slut and an anal-whore.”

Mark almost said “Seriously?” yet again, but he stopped himself and opted for, “Thanks.”

“Have fun,” John said.

“You, too.”

“Oh, I will—I promise,” John replied with a wolfish grin, and disappeared into his own room.

Now, with Sally’s adorable ass raised and offered to him, Mark felt the depth of his arousal might somehow literally swallow him up and pull him out the window into the booming surf that seemed to match the power he felt flowing through him when he told Sally that she wouldn’t enjoy having his cock in her ass, but she had to have it there anyway.

“Reach back and spread these cheeks for me, Sal,” he said. “Offer me your cute little asshole.”

Sally whimpered and obeyed, spreading her bottom open, with the lace panties still on it, and nearly stopping Mark’s heart with arousal at the sight of her tiny pink anus and, lightly covered with its red-gold curls and almost hidden by the lacy panties, the little pink cunt that he couldn’t help stroking now with three fingers of his right hand, just because he loved to hear the submissive noises Sally always made when he touched her there. To have his beautiful, aristocratic, eighteen-year-old girlfriend laid out like this, as he had commanded, for his wicked pleasure, seemed impossibly wonderful. As he worked her pussy, pushing his fingers inside the pretty panties and even tugging the lace against her cunt-lips to tease her, Mark couldn’t seem to get enough of thinking to himself, “I’m going to fuck that little bottom. I’m going to fuck her right in her cute pink asshole. I spanked her bottom, and now I’m going to train it, and then when it’s ready I’m going to fuck it.”