GOOD BREEDING (6 page)

Naked apart from her high-heeled slippers, Clara Bestwood stood in the centre of her husband’s bedroom floor. She was still tousled and flushed from his bed but he had dressed. The curtains were pulled back and sunlight flooded the room
. She was watching him with bright eager eyes, fresh from another of her newly discovered peaks of pleasure, the trails from her husband’s emission glistened on her thighs but she stood with her legs apart and her hands behind her back, her breasts proudly thrust forward.

A coffle of slaves was being taken out to the fields from one of the compounds. The line wound along the bottom of the garden, in full view of the house.

“They might be able to see
you if they look up, Clara,” Adam
told her as he lounged against the frame of the French windows that led out onto the upper terrace.

“Do you want them to?” she asked.

“I’m not the one who’s stark naked. It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other.”

“Then it doesn’t to me either.”

He lit a cigar and blew a cloud of smoke into the bright air. “Masturbate, Clara,” he said softly.

He turned to see her slow, sly smile as she brought her hands around to the front, cupped and caressed her breasts, pulled the nipples into their full, impressive erection – something even he hadn’t seen before that day – and then slid them down to her groin.

“Have Phyllis trim that jungle down there,” he said as he watched the long fingers of one hand curl under her body and disappear up inside her while the others began a hard rubbing at her clitoris.

Adam went around to stand behind his wife and admire her figure, the thighs and legs were long and powerful – of course he had always known
that, but now they
were
available to his p
l
ans and the possibilities were
endless – her but
tocks were high, tight,
prominent and
wide,
her back was graceful, rising from the broad swell of her hips to a slender waist and then widening to the superb shoulders and graceful neck. Her dark hair was coming undone and tresses fell down from her usual bun at the nape of her neck.
She began to moan and her movements took on a shuddering intensity as her climax neared. Adam could see her hands working more and more feverishly so he went to stand in front of her again and watch her face soften and melt into ecstasy as she sampled another orgasm.

She had nearly driven him to despair by her inability to climax with him. He had lain with enough women to know that the fault wasn’t his and he knew about her strict upbringing. It was meeting Phyllis that had hatched the idea of using another woman to unlock her, but then his researches had taken a surprising turn just as his fortunes worsened and it had become imperative that Phyllis succeed. And she had in spectacular fashion. Clara had ridden his cock like a woman possessed, and had been puppy-like in her desire to please. Amateurish, certainly, but promising.

However, he felt he would probably always prefer Phyllis’s more louche behaviour in bed over Clara’s impassioned desire to please him. But pretty soon that would not present a problem and everyone would be happy.

Clara gave a final groan and tottered sideways a few steps then sighed and relaxed, smiling hopefully at him, her large eyes shining with devotion.

He beckoned to her and took her in his arms, listening to her whispered declarations of love for him
with nothing but smug pleasure and running his hands up and down her back.

“I shall do with you whatever gives me pleasure from now on, Clara. If it pleases me to whip you, you shall be whipped. If it pleases me to share you with another man, you will be shared.”

She made no protest, just a soft moan of pleasure into his shoulder.

“You will not spend a night in bed alone from now on. If I do not require you, or if I have no plans for you, you will summon Phyllis.”

She looked up at him in sudden dismay.

“Yes, you silly goose!” he chided her gently. “I know all about it. I planned it, just as I will continue to plan what happens to you.” She relaxed back into his arms. “Tonight
you will be caned after dinner,
”
he added.

Sir Archibald and Lady Stuart were of the opinion that Clara’s buttocks and thighs were among the finest on the island. They were displayed over the back of the same chair as Lady Stuart usually bent over and although she
proved rather too noisy for the company’s taste and her snivelling a little less than attractive, she received her first ever dozen with promising willingness, and the display of welts on her tight young flesh was so exquisite that Adam had her stay where she was for the rest of the evening

Chapter Six

“Now you’re properly settled in, Clara,” Lady Isabelle said a
week later. “We could do with your help in the mating shed tomorrow. Dorca and Phyllis will be there as well but many hands make light work and it can be a long morning in there.”

They were strolling across the South lawn, listening to the singing coming from a field where the slaves were working.

“Of course, I’d be delighted to help. It sounds…….interesting.”

Isabelle looked at her young guest. She had bloomed over the past few days but there was still a long way to go before Adam could be sure she would manifest her true destiny.

“Oh it is that!” She put her arm through Clara’s and leant closer. “Now that you are truly one of us, how do you and that handsome husband of yours fare in the bedroom? Has he beaten you since the caning?”

Clara blushed furiously. The memory of having to hitch up her skirts and bare herself to hosts and servants alike was still a powerful one and caused a
stirring in her loins as she recalled abandoning her modesty and dignity in the face of her husband’s pleasure. She had squealed and wept and wriggled under the cane but when he told her to remain bent over so that everyone could admire her, she nearly fainted from sheer pleasure. She had been taken to his bed every night since then and Phyllis had had to soothe her back and bottom with cool compresses after several beatings with a belt. But in the wake of the thrashings he was tireless and she had learned to open her mouth and her bottom to a man.
The rush of submissive excitement she had experienced the first time she knelt before Adam and took him into her mouth was something she would never forget. Neither would she ever forget the feeling of the thick splashes of sperm spilling into her mouth and throat, chokin
g and hot, tasting foul but all
the better because of it. Secretly she felt it was quite right that a man’s spend should taste horrible to a woman, it only accentuated the fact that she was submitting to
improper use of her body for his pleasure. But however great her enthusiasm for taking him in her mouth, she still needed practice and every evening before dinner, she knelt before him and allowed him to penetrate as deep into her throat as she could take him until he ejaculated.

Affording Adam use of her bottom was proving more of a problem. Buggery usually took place after a good, prolonged thrashing and although the pain rendered her totally compliant she just couldn’t seem to relax enough to allow him comfortable passage. As a result Phyllis was using siesta time to ram leather covered wooden phalluses into her backside, daily, to stretch the sphincter muscles and the rectum itself. Clara was living for the day when Adam could thrash her as hard as he wanted, secure in the knowledge that when he required her tightest and most secret channel, it would open easily for him.

S
he knew she existed in a shadowy limbo in between those times that her husband took his pleasure with her or com
manded her in whatever form
.

“He does beat me, thank you Lady Isabelle, most agreeably and thoroughly. I believe I am the happiest woman alive, although I
do know I have a lot to learn. F
or example I have
felt the cane, the crop, the belt and of course the hand but as yet I have
to feel a proper whip.”

“We are to go to a garden party next weekend, my dear, and I expect that will be put to rights there.”

Clara raised her eyebrows. A garden party seemed an unlikely event at which a girl might expect to be whipped, but then they did do things differently out here……

The mating shed was a windowless barn set well apart from both the house and the slave compounds. At each end there were lean-to sheds. As the women approached it, Lady Isabelle outlined what they were about and its importance for the estate.

“When the girls catch they are sent into the hills to birth and nurse and the offspring are reared there while the mothers return to work. But only the best stock is used in the mating shed and it is considered an honour among the slaves. The females are kept in one shed for a comple
te menstrual cycle
and until they are at their most fecund
while the males
are kept in a separate shed for the same length of time. As they are normally at it like knives in the slave compounds, they find this a wearisome trial and are more than ready to copulate on demand. Both sexes are kept strictly shackled so that no masturbation is possible. Today, girls, it will be our task to ensure that we encourage the maximum amount of sperm into vaginas that are open and receptive. Clara, Phyllis, if
you are
in
any
doubt
about what you should be doing
at any time, merely ask myself or Dorca for help. I need hardly add that a successful mating is important to the estate’s well being.” So saying she led her little troop into the shady and dusty interior of the shed where Alex was waiting for them.

“Good day, ladies,” he said. “We’ve a load of sul
len and none-too-pleased stallions
for ye today, but don’t worry, we’ll truss ‘em up weel for you
.”

He turned on his heel and left. Phyllis and Clara exchanged nervous glances but Dorca took Phyllis’s arm and Lady Isabelle took Clara’s. Over at one end of the shed was a screen, similar to the ones they were used to seeing in England
where they kept out draughts. Behind this one they found a dre
ssing table with a ewer
of fresh water
and
a bowl
on it and
two chaise longues.

“Now come on girls!” Isabelle encouraged them. “Down to stockings and corsets. That usually gets ‘em good and hard. But in case it don’t
,
use a crop. A couple of good swishes with a crop will get you a handsome stand every time!” She grinned at her audience and with girlish giggles they fell to disrobing. Clara felt a different sort of excitement as she unbuttoned her blouse. Curiosity – she still didn’t really understand
what she was going to be doing -
mixed with the excitement of what Isabelle’s last remarks implied. It appeared that s
he was about to be required to do to a male what she had only just begun to get used to having done to her
. She was fast becoming proud of the way the sight of her body made Adam hard almost instantly and she had on several occasions spotted a tight bulge in Sir Archibald’s breeches when she had been around. Now she was to deliberately use her body to excite a male – but she was secure in the knowledge that it was her host’s and her husband’s will that she do so. Soon four flushed and
excited women stood behind the screens and Clara thought they made a very handsome gathering, the corsets mounded their breasts up to perfection, hers, she noted smugly, especially so, closely followed by Phyllis’s, then Dorca’s coffee gold ones, now unmarke
d and pure once more, and then L
ady Isabelle’s shapely, neat ones.

Isabelle sauntered – and Clara noted
how
the deliberately seductive way she walked
made the most of her buttocks
– over to a chest and withdrew four riding crops and four gloves, which she handed to everyone.

“The glove goes on the left
hand,” she told them. “You’ll be amazed at how much more spunk you can get out of them with a couple of squeezes and a few strokes with one of these beauties.”

Clara slipped hers on and then gazed in horror at it. The satin glove’s palm was covered in sharp little steel studs, sharp enough to cause havoc in the male genitals. Phyllis laughed in pure delight as she pulled hers on and then, cunt naked but with spectacularly constricted waists, swelling hips and breasts the four women waited until Alex had finis
hed wheeling in the first batch of males from
one door into the barn. They listened as mysterious metallic cli
nks issued from over the screen
and there were grunts of effort from the men with Alex.

“All set for ye!” Alex called and then the door was
slammed shut and the only light came from windows set high up in the walls.

With Lady Isabelle leading the way the four white women stepped out, ready to begin the mating.

Clara’s attention was immediately
riveted on the male bodies. As one who was only just becoming properly acquainted with them, the four bodies before her now took her breath away. The naked forms we
re tied in taut X shapes on wooden frames
which hung vertically from the ceiling on leather straps and were anchored to rings in the floor in the same fashion
about six inches above it
.
Each body was supported by five or six vertical struts
behind it
, keeping the body rigid.
The bonds were of thick leather and as her eyes took in the superb, ebony skinned musculature, she was glad of it. Each man’s head was encased in a leather hood that had eye holes and nostril holes only. The mouth, as Lady Isabelle pointed out to her and Phyllis was plug
ged by a huge stopple. The uprights
, against which the males’ backs were tied
,
curved forwards gently so that the groins were thrust forwards. Apart from ties at ankles and wrists, Alex Sweeney had ensured that the powerful thighs were bound as were the biceps and the waist.

At the groins dangled the ladies’ first targets; the thick but limp penises hung over the ripe balls in between the impressively thick and strong thighs, but as the male slaves’ eyes took in the feast of white womanhood sashaying towards them, Clara was delighted to see the one in front of her begin to stir and lift itself away from the body, seeming to strain towards her. She had never witnessed an erecting penis in such blatant surroundings and found it more thrilling than she could have believed.

“Steady now, girls!” Isabelle called.
“W
e may need to cool them down a bit
. Clara, go round behind yours, he’s going to boil over if you’re not careful!”

She wasn’t sure what Isabelle meant by that but did as she was told and saw
that from behind
the tight buttocks protruded from between the
uprights and even a novice such as she could see what was needed. With great daring she swung her crop across her slave’s bottom and saw the strong body arch against its restraints, she sliced into the hard lumps of gristle again and noticed how the shaft of the crop sprang back strongly. The male buttocks were indeed very different from the female she concluded. Next to her Phyllis was discovering the same thing.

“Blimey, Ma’am!” she laughed as she let a third lash fly, “I hope my arse ain’t so hard
!”

The shed echoed to a few more minutes’ lashing and then Isabelle called them round to the front again. The penises were now thoroughly u
ninterested and the men writhed
on the grids.

“Good, that’s cooled them off, now we can bring ‘em back on at a steady pace!”

Isabelle stood in front of her slave and began a gentle to and fro slapping with the keeper on her crop, knocking the penis from side to side. At the same time she
carefully
let her free hand play through her pubes and rub at her clitoris, while she parted her legs widely. Clara watched entranced as the penis performed its magic again and the scrotum beneath tightened and crinkled in a way her tongue and fingers were just getting used to.

She turned and copied her hostess’s actions, squealing in delight as her slave throbbed into erection even as she knocked his cock from side to side with increasing roughness.
It di
dn’t seem
to
discourage it
however and it increased in size and thickness in front of her delighted gaze until it attained a vein throbbing and ribbed hardness
, as well as
a size that had her
licking her lips.

“Clara and Dorca, keep ‘em up and hard while we fetch the bitches!”

Clara watched as Phyllis and Isabelle went to a door in the side of the shed and knocked on it, immediately standing aside. The door opened and a strange trolley was pushed in, a bit like a
coster monger’s barrow but Dorca
called her attention back to her own job
before she could take in much more
.

“
U
se the glove
, Madam. But don’t pull the foreskin back,
” she was told softly and
watched as Dorca worked the glove along one shaft squeezing it tight and then wrenching the studded glove back and forth. The slave managed a strained gasp from inside his hood but incredibly the cock actually seemed to benefit from the torment and seemed to swell to an even bigger size.

Clara turned to attend to her responsibilities. She furled her hand around the hot shaft in front of her
and was delighted to find that her fingers couldn’t encompass the girth of the thing. She
smiled at how the head seemed to be trying to squeeze out of its protective hood, the slit grinning invitingly at her. Beneath her fingers she felt the ribbed steel of the shaft itself under the soft skin and revelled in having no mercy; some instinct told her that chances like this would not come often on the island. She exerted every ounce of her strength in squeezing and then slid her hand up and back down. A muffled bellow of protest burst from under the hood and the gleaming body strained every muscle to follow her hand and alleviate the agony; an agony which in no way diminished the rigidity of the erection.