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Authors: Angela Meadows

BOOK: The Education of Victoria
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‘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 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 onto 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 onto 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 too 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 leant 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.

‘Don’t 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.

Chapter 4
Victoria Pleases the Headmistress

For the second time in a week I stood in Madame Thackeray’s study bedroom but today being Sunday I was dressed in my finery. I wore my hooped green silk dress with several layers of starched petticoats to make it stand out and a low neckline that made my breasts prominent. On my feet were matching green silk slippers. Although it was just an hour after lunch, the light coming through the window was a dull grey. It was snowing again and already the mountains surrounding the Venus School for Young Ladies were capped with white. While it was surely cold outside, a roaring fire in the hearth kept the room more than comfortable given that I was fully dressed. My fellow pupils were either in their rooms or in the drawing room engaged in quiet pastimes, but I knew I was to experience more energetic activity.

I stood patiently while Madame read from the report presumably written by Beatrice and the other senior girls who had observed me. They had watched as I had entertained young Albert. For an hour each day for the last week my task had been to excite him, draw him to the edge of an orgasm and keep him there in delicious agony of anticipation. I had not been successful in every respect. I knew I was going to be punished but I hoped the girls had been charitable to me.

Madame laid the papers on her desk, took off her spectacles and looked at me.

‘Well, Victoria, I see that you disobeyed my instructions,’ she said sternly.

‘I did?’ I enquired, uncertain of what response was required.

‘I told you not to touch yourself and yet you did, on three occasions.’ I recalled the three times that the senior girls had called out as my hand wandered between my legs.

‘Yes, Madame,’ I acknowledged sadly. My colleagues had not spared me from my fate.

‘For those lapses you shall be punished. I also see that you failed to control Albert five times. Five times he ejaculated when you were charged with merely keeping him excited.’

‘Yes, Madame, I am sorry, but he is so, ah, high-spirited.’

‘Nonsense, girl, it is your skill that is wanting.’ Her stern expression softened a little. ‘However, I note from Beatrice’s report that on the last day you succeeded in keeping him erect for a whole hour without orgasm. That certainly suggests that you have some talent. Beatrice also notes that you used your initiative in utilising your whole body to retain his interest.’ My memory was that Albert’s hands and mouth were all over me, caressing my bosom, my buttocks and especially my feminine parts. He gave me intense pleasure while also ensuring that his interest was maintained.

‘Thank you, Madame.’ I curtsied in acknowledgement of her praise.

Madame’s hand stroked the large ebony phallus that lay on her desk then moved to lift the leather crop. She gripped the handle in her right hand and caressed the supple leather at the other end with her left.

‘I think that under the circumstances I will lessen your punishment to six strokes.’ I felt a little faint and gulped saliva.

‘Yes, Madame, thank you,’ I said weakly. The memory of the four strokes she had given me earlier in the week was all too fresh in my mind and imprinted on my buttocks.

‘Now, Victoria, undress if you will.’

‘Yes, Madame, but could you assist me with the fastenings, please?’ Madame Thackeray rose and came around her desk to stand behind me. She deftly undid the buttons of my dress and helped to pull it from my arms and over my head. The dress was followed by the petticoats, one after another. At last I stood in just my slip. I pulled that off too and stood before my headmistress completely naked. The smallest hint of satisfaction seemed to pass across her face. It was the first time she had had a full view of my body. Her eyes looked me up and down, alighting on my ample bosom and perky nipples that now hardened under her gaze. Her eyes descended to the bush of dark brown hair that covered my mound and a small smile passed across her face. Then she picked up the crop and pointed to the elephant stool that stood at the foot of her large bed. I took the steps towards the stool slowly and reluctantly.

The padded leather seat of the stool came up to my waist. When my pubic hair was just touching it, there was a prod in the middle of my back and I was forced to bend right over so that my head and arms fell forward over the other side of the elephant. I balanced with my bottom elevated. The first time that Madame had beaten me I had just rested over the stool like this, and so I waited for my beating to begin. I was surprised when Madame gripped my right wrist and wound a black silk cord around it before tying it to the nearest leg of the elephant. She repeated the action with my other arm and my ankles. I struggled a little but found that I could not move neither arms nor legs or shift my position on the stool even an inch. The cords, though soft on my skin, were as strong as ropes of flax.

‘There is no point in trying to move, Victoria. You are bound tight. I do not want you shifting while I select the site for my stroke.’ Immobile, I felt completely defenceless and exposed.

Nothing happened for some time except for rustlings behind me. I wondered if Madame was moving my clothes from where they had fallen. With my legs secured wide apart and my hands also tied firmly I was not comfortable but knew full well that my comfort would decrease considerably very soon. Then I heard Madame’s soft breathing behind me and knew that my punishment was about to begin. I tried to clench my buttocks but with my legs forced apart knew that my crack was wide open.

‘I want you to know, Victoria, that what you are about to receive is not a punishment.’ Madame spoke quietly and calmly. ‘It is a part of your training. You will acquire the skills that we teach here at the Venus School for Young Ladies but you will also learn that pain and humiliation are powerful tools in the arts of sexual pleasure. Today you will suffer the pain and humiliation; soon you may be administering it yourself.’

I had no idea what Madame was talking about. I had thought that our lessons were to give us skills for pleasing the men who would be our husbands. Did some men like to beat their wives or even be beaten by them? These thoughts were swept from my mind when the first blow arrived. The air screamed and my right buttock exploded in a foot-long strip of pure pain. I yelped; in fact, I more than yelped, I shouted, not words, but an animal noise that I did not know could emerge from my mouth. The heat began to subside just a little before the second stroke came, this time on my left cheek. I screeched again and sobbed and begged.

Madame was an expert. She knew just how long to wait between strokes to build up the anticipation and terror and she had the skill to place each line exactly where she wished. Every stroke of the crop extracted the full measure of response from me. When she was done, my bottom and upper thighs were ablaze with the six stripes she had administered and my throat was raw from screaming. My wrists and ankles pulled involuntarily and ineffectually at the bonds but I knew that Madame would not release me yet.

I recalled what had happened after my previous beating and suddenly my body was desperate for her touch and I knew that my sex was swelling. I imagined that Madame was waiting and watching, observing the growing pinkness of my lips and perhaps the first drips of moisture running from my vagina. It seemed that an eternity passed before that first exquisite contact; the lightest of touches; a fingernail against the top of the crack between my buttocks. Gently, tantalizingly, deliciously, the finger travelled down, over the puckered skin of my arsehole and then between my swollen lips. It explored between them, each movement making me shudder with pleasure. I expected her to enter me but the finger withdrew. I was sad and nonplussed. I wanted her touch; my body needed her touch. While my beaten buttocks still burned my desire burned even hotter.

But then something round and smooth and cool pressed against my fanny. Fingers parted my lips and the object slid into the vestibule to my hole. It felt like a vast hard ball was pushing against me. Then with a little more force, it entered me. I gasped as my canal opened to receive it. I realised that it was the huge ebony dildo that lived on Madame’s desk. I was horrified. It was so large, surely it could not enter me; I would be torn asunder. Nevertheless, slowly and skilfully Madame introduced it into me. It felt as if I was being impaled on an admittedly blunt and smooth but nevertheless immense stake. It threatened to pierce my whole body and emerge through my throat. Each thrust pushed it a fraction of an inch up my tunnel and each movement sent spasms of pleasure through my clitoris. While my head swam with delirious ecstasy I realised that Madame really knew how to use a dildo. She didn’t just force it into me, she withdrew it a little way and twisted it, and each re-entry renewed the feelings that rippled through me.

At last it seemed that no more of the long black instrument could be forced into me. Now Madame began a repetitive oscillation that made the whole of my insides vibrate in unison. If I had been delirious before now I was raving. I moaned and screamed as wave upon wave of orgasm passed through me. At the end I think I did swoon because the next I knew was Madame untying the bonds around my ankles. The dildo had been removed, but my vagina, like my buttocks, burned with the memory of what it had experienced; the vastness of the rod and a vacancy where it had been. Madame pulled on the cords binding my wrists and the silk fell away.

‘Get up, Victoria.’ I slid off the elephant, my legs like jellied eels. I had to rest my hands on the top of the stool to steady myself before slowly turning to face the headmistress again.

I gasped with surprise when I saw her. Madame Thackeray was naked. I couldn’t help but examine her body, and she stood calmly while I looked at her. For a woman past her youth she was extremely handsome. Her breasts were not large but were firm, and her nipples pointed upwards. They and the aureoles were a deep red. Her stomach was flat and her thighs smooth and strong. Her skin was smooth and unblemished. My eyes were drawn to her sex. Her pubic hair was neatly trimmed and formed in tight blonde curls. Her skin glowed pink and showed a sheen of perspiration from her exertions. A few moments passed, and then she smiled and held out a hand.

‘Come, Victoria.’ She took my hand and guided me around to the side of her bed.

‘Get on,’ she urged and while I struggled to climb onto the high mattress she slid her bottom onto it and lay back on the pillows resting against the headboard. I found myself kneeling facing her. She parted her legs, and then bent her knees, raising her thighs. As she did so her sex appeared, a glistening pink gash beneath the fair wisps of hair. She slid down the satin covers and pulled her knees up to her shoulders. Her lips gaped open.

‘Now, Victoria, your education continues. I know that Albert showed you how a mouth can pleasure a woman. Let us see if you learned from the experience.’ She pulled her thighs further apart so that her crack widened. A long, swollen clitoris peeped from its hooded nest.

Her words recalled the delight that Albert had given me as his lips and tongue worked at my sex. There was a heat coming from her mount and a sweet odour filled my nostrils with desire. This woman, who had beaten me and had excited me so, sought pleasure from me. It seemed to me to be a great honour. I tipped forward, lowering my face towards her vulva. I extended my tongue and it touched the hot, taut skin. I felt her body tremble through the tip of my tongue. Slowly I licked up her crack tasting the honey that was oozing freely from her vagina. The sweet, musky flavour excited me and I pushed my tongue between her lips searching for the source of her juices. My lips met hers and my nose touched the firm but silky clitoris. She sighed and groaned and shifted her grip on her thighs to give me even greater access. I pressed my face hard against her fanny, my cheeks against her groin, my lips pushing her labia apart and my tongue questing deeper and deeper.

My tongue was inside her hole, lapping at the flowing juices. I shifted an inch or so and now my mouth closed around her clitoris. I nibbled with my teeth, pressed my lips against it and rubbed my tongue up and down in a sucking motion. She moaned and began to thrust her abdomen against my face. I wrapped my arms around her thighs, not stopping her movement but ensuring that I did not become dislodged. She began to scream and shout and wriggle but I held on and kept on sucking and licking and biting and chewing on her sex. All my being was focused on her cunt; all my desires were directed to her orgasm; time meant nothing. She let out a huge cry and a great convulsion passed through her. A great gush of fluid flowed from her vagina and I drank it thirstily. And then she subsided, I let go of her thighs and her limbs sagged on to the bedcovers. I backed away panting because for the last few minutes I had barely been able to catch a breath as my mouth was so closely locked to her sex.

I looked up to see her watching me, her head raised from her pillow.

‘You do have talent, Victoria. With training you will be a fine cunnilinguist. Next week you will begin to study fellatio – the art of using your mouth to pleasure a man. I have no doubt that you will succeed at your studies. You may go now.’ Her head fell back, her eyes closed and her muscles relaxed. I slid off the bed and retrieved my slip. Then I gathered up my dress and petticoats and left Madame snoring softly.

I returned to our bedroom and found Beatrice sitting at her dressing table in her slip, writing a letter. She turned towards me as I entered the room, my arms full of clothes.

‘Oh hello, Victoria. I presume you have had your interview with Madame.’ I dropped the clothes in a heap by my wardrobe. I was suddenly aware that my buttocks were still stinging quite severely.

‘Yes, Bea. Madame beat me.’

‘I knew she would. How many?’

‘Six.’

‘Let’s have a look, lean over the bed.’ I did as I was told and bent over the edge of the bed quite grateful to rest my torso on the mattress. Bea stood up and came to stand behind me. She lifted my slip and I could feel her gazing at my maltreated buttocks.

‘Oh yes, she’s given you six good ones there. Do they still hurt?’

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