Chapter 4
A trip to town-Mr. Bowler's emporium and its female attractions-Noreen, a strapping young trollop-Her scorn for gentlemen admiring her tightly-clad thighs and backsideA dreadful incident!-Noreen assaults an elderly fancier-Joshua Snook, Esquire, of Snook's Hall-The problem of Noreen's disobedience-Mr. Bowler promises to have Noreen broken-in-Whip and harness are prepared-Noreen strapped bare-bottomed over a yoke-bar-Her resistance-Noreen driven all day round the yoke-circle-Leather-lash and whipcord-Noreen's sturdy bottom-cheeks skinned and salted.
I saw Mr. Bowler often enough on the hunting field or at the justices' sessions, where he was a stern moralist in dealing with poachers, vagabonds, and all who threatened social propriety. If he devoted his private discipline to such vulgar sluts or tarts as Pat or Ange-and Noreen whom I had yet to see-then the world marveled at his devotion to moral improvement. As for Tracey, it was village opinion that the girl could not be placed in better hands for the next five or six years. Perhaps, from time to time, Mr. Bowler's penis might stiffen a little and slip from his trousers-as if having a mind of its own. Perhaps it would then chance to slip between the girl's legs or widen Tracey's arsehole or find its way into her mouth. Was not that incontrovertible proof that she was a seducing young whore, who could even endanger Mr. Bowlers invincible morality? And was that not ample reason for a little bare-bottom discipline?
My own days were occupied with settling matters to do with the estate at Coombe. Yet I enjoyed cameos of Laura and Ruth like two soft, loving creatures together. And I rode Sian hard. However, this was soon overshadowed by the most dreadful outrage.
As soon as my leisure allowed, I resolved to ride into town and take a view of the saddlers which had brought so much wealth to Mr. Bowler. The day was mild and balmy, the long decline of summer giving a sleepy and languorous air to the handsome terraces of gentlemen's houses and the busy streets with their shop-windows bright with goods.
I found Mr. Bowler's emporium soon enough and was not much surprised to find several well-dressed gentlemen admiring the polished saddles and harnesses, the whips and brasses, which were offered as his stock in trade. I dismounted, gave a boy sixpence to hold my horse, and then saw that something beyond the fine leatherwork was causing these gentlemen to lick their lips and gaze passionately at what they saw.
Often enough, Mr. Bowler put one of his girls to work in the shop at some menial task. Noreen was the cause of the present excitement among the gentlemen who stood agog. You would not, I assure you, think her the finest of ladies or the greatest of beauties. Her lank dark hair, trimmed at her collar, framed a fair-skinned face whose brown eyes and resolute features had an impudent and disdainful air. Yet Noreen, at twenty-one years old, is a strapping young wench with a strong appeal for men who like girls of that kind.
She was dressed, as befitted a stable-girl, in singlet and denim riding-trousers. The clinging cotton of the pale blue singlet showed a young back that was strong and straight, breasts that were firm and well controlled, a belly still flat and well-muscled. She wore a broad leather waist-belt which drew the faded blue of her riding-jeans smooth and taut over her lower figure. Though Noreen was a strongly-built girl she was not the least flabby. Her sturdy legs were still trim at the thighs, her hips taut yet robust. Noreen's bottom-cheeks were quite full and also broad but without a pinch of surplus fat.
I soon saw what it was that held the voyeurs entranced. Where the glossy leather had been laid out, Noreen was polishing the floor with wax and cloth. She knelt, sitting on her heels, with her back to them. Head bowed, the lank dark hair and level fringe moving with the energy of her polishing, Noreen was a young tart whom any man would like to have harnessed bare-hipped between his shafts. She was aware of the men behind her. Once or twice she flicked back the length of hair and, with jaw set strongly, tried to dismiss them with a glance of contempt from her brown eyes. They remained unmoved. How lovingly they gazed upon the straight young back and trim breasts shaped by the singlet! As the girl sat upright on her heels, the jeans tightened smooth as drumskin over the spread of her broadened buttocks. The stout central seam of the seat was strained deep and tight into Noreen's rear crack, then under her legs. The young bitch offered a most suggestive view, Noreen's butt-halves being shaped as clearly as if she had been naked and appearing so lewdly separated.
To thread her way between the saddles and har--. ness, Noreen was obliged to back towards her admirers on hands and knees, polishing vigorously as she did so. As she lifted her hips from her heels and presented herself on all fours, the watching gentlemen uttered a gasp that was clearly audible to all around. The collar-length of lank dark hair fell around the girl's firm young face with its wide-spaced points to the cheek-bones. From the rear, the smooth jeans-seat was drawn taut over the statuesque mounds of Noreen's buttocks. With hips broadened she presented herself as a big-bottomed girl in this posture. The central seam of the jeans-seat which divided Noreen's butt-cheeks so deeply, also seemed to part the very lips of her cunt where it was drawn under her legs. The soft pussy-flesh was clearly visible as a tell-tale bulge in the tight denim.
The men positioned themselves to enjoy the fullest view of Noreen's strapping young bottom-cheeks and thighs as she backed towards them. There was one old fellow, with white hair and apple cheeks, whom I did not then recognise. Yet he was Mr. Joshua Snook of Snook's Hall, a libertine in his day but now rather, decayed. He had wealth, however, and was able to command certain pleasures from the girls of his village.
Mr. Snook entered the shop and stood just behind Noreen as she labored. Aware of his presence, the young wench stopped her work. She remained motionless on hands and knees, as if waiting for him to go away. But old Mr. Snook merely raised his foot and touched the toe of his boot between Noreen's buttocks, letting her feel it there. It seemed he knew the girl's name.
"I believe it is your backside that interests me most of all, Noreen," said he, "I must have you bending with your pants down. You'll reach back and part your buttocks with your hands so that I may have a good long look into your crack...."
Noreen's brown eyes slanted angrily at him, as she shook her fringe and flicked back the spilling hair. Two spots of fury glowed on the points of her wide cheek-bones. She sat back sharply on her heels and in doing so caught old Snook off his balance!
He went down heavily amid the harness and saddles, though without doing himself much injury. Noreen scrambled to her feet and began to defend herself. Happily, two of the shop porters held her and strapped her wrists behind her back. In full view of the other watching gentleman, the young tart had criminally assaulted a gentleman of property!
Old Snook and Mr. Bowler had long been cronies. Yet Mr. Bowler now swore that he had tolerated Noreen's insolence too long. She had been sentenced to several years detention by the magistrate (Master Miles). As an alternative to imprisonment, she was allowed to live under supervision by another magistrate (Mr. Bowler). From the age of sixteen until it pleased them to order her release, Noreen was the virtual slave-girl of the saddler.
The smiles among Mr. Bowler's employees showed that Noreen was in great trouble. Soon the strapping young wench would have cause to kick and scream, dance and fart. Noreen was merely told that she would be kept under lock and key for a few days, doomed to suffer retribution. However, I received the warmest invitation from Mr. Bowler. On Thursday following, Noreen was to be broken in, once for all. Would I care to attend the ceremony?
Curiosity, if it be a vice, is the strongest fault in me. I rode over first thing after breakfast to find the preparations under way. To see a strapping young trollop like Noreen broken in to obedience was a deeply exciting prospect, though I was a little apprehensive that something might be done to her which would cause a scandal. I need not have worried. Master Miles, Mr. Bowler and I were the three justices for the neighborhood. Much good might it do Noreen to complain to us! From now on, the young bitch was to be kept as safe in Mr. Bowlers establishment as any of the reformatory girls. Twenty-one-year-old Noreen might be as resentful and insolent as she chose. There would be no danger of the young tart telling tales of what was done to her or making trouble for us.
I arrived in Mr. Bowler's comfortable and sunlit parlor just before eleven to find that glasses of madeira and slices of spiced seed-cake had been set out on the sideboard for three of us. Mr. Bowler himself was one, I was the second, and old Joshua Snook the third. Master Miles was unable to attend. His attention was given that morning to Sally Fenton, a cheeky fair-haired imp of fourteen. The youngster's impudence and the masters sense of public duty required him to spend a few hours with his bambocnn his hand and Sally Fenton bare-bottomed oveif his study sofa. I
It was proper that old Mr. Snook should witness Noreen's ordeal for her assault upon him. Yet, having promised to conceal nothing of my adventures from you, I am obliged to warn you of the old gentleman and his ways.
Joshua Snook had been a prodigious libertine in his day, master of Snook's Hall and every girl in the parish. Now he had passed three-score-and-ten by a little margin. The stiffness and vigor of his lust was hardly more than memory. This great hunter of cunny and butt was reduced to mumbling at the prey he could not bite, as the poet has it. Yet his lips and fingers mumbled over two or three girls every week. He liked nothing better than to have a girl with her legs open for his attentions to her pussy-flesh. Or else, in the case of a broad-bottomed girl like Noreen, it was her backside which excited him most. He must have her buttocks held apart so that he might peer eagerly into Noreen's crack. Her anus charmed him like the Koh-i-Noor diamond.
Unable to employ the instrument with which nature had endowed him, old Mr. Snook liked to put girls to the test with squirts and probes, syringes and douches. Those who understood the reason for this found his crapulous tastes a matter of amusement rather than censure. Mr. Snook would take one or two girls into the tiled room with its table conveniently placed for them to lie over, stools to support them bending, kneeling or straddling. For an hour or two he would be happy as a child with new toys. To see them make love head-to-tail was his favorite excitement. Then, how his eyes would twinkle to see a hard-faced young blonde, such as Pat, release the warm golden flood between her legs. How he would smile as the effect of his syringing caused a certain rudeness to peep out between Sally Fenton's bottom-cheeks, bringing dismay and apprehension even to the face of such pretty impudence.
Mr. Bowler greeted us heartily, handing out wine and cake.
"You are not pressed for time, gentlemen? I trust not. A buxom young filly like Noreen must be thoroughly broken in. Presently she will be stripped and harnessed over the yoke-bar in the stable-yard so that she may be driven. Yet when such a rebellious young wench is to be brought to obedience, she must be under the whip for the entire day. And every day after until she learns her lesson."
"There will be time for inspecting her, though?" asked Mr. Snook anxiously, "There will be time for that?"
"More than enough, sir!" said Mr. Bowler proudly, and old Snook gave a little smile of satisfaction.
As we sipped our wine I had a view through the window across the terrace with its roses and ornamental urns. Just beyond lay the stables and I caught a glimpse of Noreen in the company of two grooms. She was dressed in the same light blue singlet land working-trousers as on the day of Her crime against Mr. Snook. Yet she had not learnt her lesson. The young tart was struggling and wrestling against the two grooms who led her to the yoke-bar in the yard. Noreen twisted her legs and lunged against them with her strong young hips, contesting every inch of the way! She bowed her shoulders against their hold and the lank dark hair flew this way and that as she twisted her head, trying to bite their hands as they gripped her. I should be a hypocrite to deny the excitement I felt at what I was about to see. Noreen with her firm young features, the fury slanting in her brown eyes, showed only hatred and defiance. Anger still glowed on the points of her cheek-bones. As she struggled against the grooms one could not but admire the thighs so robust yet trim, the young hips that were broad yet agile, the big-cheeked firmness of Noreen's bottom.
Most contests between a master and his girl-pupil are soon decided in favor of authority. A teacher with a cane would print obedience on the bare cheeks of Linda or Valerie's fourteen-year-old bottom in half-an-hour or less. Even a tomboy of fifteen like Michele would soon learn her lesson after a taste of whipcord across her bare buttocks. Noreen, however, was a strong young woman of twenty-one with a burning resentment. Her backside and legs were sturdy enough to take formidable discipline. She would defy and resist to the uttermost. She would be bare-legged and bare-bottomed, obliged to show what lay between her thighs and between her buttocks. Noreen's master would be pitiless in meeting her challenge. Can you wonder that my excitement grew at the prospect of such implacable fate as her continued struggled ensured her?
"They will be ready for us now," said Mr. Bowler presently, his voice betraying an excitement even greater than my own.
We walked out together across the terrace in the warm sunlight of the late morning. Under the archway we found our way into the stable-yard where the drama was to take place. At the centre of the paved yard was a short iron pillar, about three feet high, like a capstan for mooring ships. Threaded through it at the top and securely bolted down was a pair of yoke-bars. Each wooden bar was at least a foot thick. They branched closely out from the post projecting from the capstan like the hands of a clock. At their outer ends they were about three feet apart. The object was to have Noreen bending over the first one, which supported her belly, while her wrists and leather collar were strapped to the forward one. Thus she was held down by the harness, bending right over and presenting herself to be driven round and round as she turned the bar.
With the aid of two stable-boys, the grooms had bent the struggling rebel, though Noreen was still fully dressed. They had buckled the straps on the forward bar round her wrists. A leather collar was attached to this same bar by a short chain. Despite the twisting of Noreen's head they had slipped the collar round her neck and were buckling it at her nape. What a sight she presented! There was fury in the slant of her brown eyes and fair-skinned features under the level fringe of dark hair. Yet the grooms now had her bending tightly forward over the rear bar in a posture which brought a sparkle to old Mr. Snook's eyes. The seat of the denim looked tight enough to split as it moulded the statuesque mounds of Noreen's broadened buttocks. Once again, the stout seam of the seat was drawn tight and deep into Noreen's crack, between her sturdy young ass-cheeks. From there it was strained under her legs, parting the soft lips of her pubic flesh. As when she bent to her labors in the saddler's shop, Noreen's panties were shown in outline under the tight seat of the denim. The briefs of stretched cotton were the only kind that could be worn with working-jeans.
The grooms held her head, pinched her nostrils, and slipped a rubber "bit" between Noreen's teeth. This was an inch thickness of black rubber, wedged into place and held by laces which were tied at the back of her head. The object was to protect her teeth as she ground them in the frenzy, as well as to subdue her shrillness in the open air.
They undid the broad waist-belt which she used to hold her working-jeans in place. A stout harness strap was tightened round her bare skin, pinioning her firmly on the rear yoke-bar. Noreen could twist her hips and squirm her backside a little, she could even kick out at us, but that was the sum of her powers to resist. Yet, as she flicked back the collar-length of lank dark hair, the face she turned upon her master was suffused with furious resentment.
"Tell me," said old Mr. Snook to his host, "has the young tart been permitted certain leave of absence as yet? I hope not, for she will feel her predicament more acutely if she has been refused."
Mr. Bowler smiled.
"In tribute to you, sir, Noreen has been refused all such indulgence today. Rest assured, Noreen is well able to perform any such act which you may demand. If she fails to, it will be disobedience and not inability. We shall know how to cure that."
Old Mr. Snook met the defiance in Noreen's eyes with a grin of delight and expectation at these words. For all the resolute tilt of defiance in her young chin, the delinquents eyes showed their first uncertainty. The rising pressure between her legs and the unease of Noreen's bottom had served to remind her of the humiliation which could be exacted by Mr. Snook.
One of the grooms held her legs to prevent kicking. The other undid the jeans and pulled them off. Noreen's panties-the white cotton of stretched briefs-came as well. Mr. Snook darted forward and picked up these fallen panties. Among the consolations of old age, he was in the habit of collecting such items as his souvenirs d'antan. Noreen's panties would be his first acquisition from her. The old gentleman liked them best when they had the appearance of being well-worn. He boasted several pairs culled from Shirley Ross, Jacqueline Grant, and a dozen more delinquent young women of the reformatory. Jane Mitchener's schoolgirl panties lay in his drawer and so did several pairs of Sally Fen-ton's. What memories must have risen in his mind as he pored over them in his study at night.
Naked but for the pale blue singlet, which ended at her waist, Noreen presented herself to us over the yoke-bar. Though strongly built, she is pale-skinned. What smoothness in the young tart's firm thighs and bare hips! The cheeks of Noreen's bottom swelled full and broad as she awaited her discipline.
At a word from Mr. Bowler, the grooms strapped the girl's ankles together, so that Mr. Snook might fulfil his ambition. He went forward and sat on a little chair just behind the bending girl. Though she tensed and tried to squirm, his hands parted her full pale buttocks and he gazed, smiling, into the butt-valley of Noreen's crack. We heard her gasp and curse inarticulately through the rubber wedge in her mouth. He fiddled between Noreen's ass-cheeks for some time, chuckling as he did so.
"You fat-arsed young tart, Noreen! Did you think yourself too grand to show what nature has given you? Don't try to clench those cheeks together, miss! Now, your rear loophole, Noreen! Ah, does that make you quiver? I must spend a morning or two with you so that we can make such a tight little dimple perform a trick or two...."
So he went on. With her buttocks pulled hard apart, the young woman had no choice but to submit to his attentions. As his fingers began to pry at her anus, Noreen's butt retorted rudely which sent old Mr. Snook into a fit of laughter and delight. At last it was our host who drew him gently away from the object of his adoration, for old Snook would have played and grinned all day.
"We must go and inspect the stable-whips," he said quietly, "I should like to leave Noreen with the grooms and apprentices for ten minutes."
And so we did. Yet this was merely a pretext, Mr. Bowler having decided upon his whip before we entered the saddle-room. It was a handsome instrument with a bound-handle, yard-long switch of tapering leather. At its base, the switch was thick as a thumb. Yet it dwindled to a pencil-point tip and a trailing lash of six inches.
We returned after ten minutes and found Noreen still strapped bending, her bottom as yet unstriped by leather. However, I was able to fondle her a little before her ankles were unstrapped. The soft and brown-haired flesh between her legs was now wet with arousal from the grooms attention. Yet they did not dare to risk giving her a pumped-up belly for nine months. The signs of their withdrawal appeared in arcs and half-dried trickles of passion over the pale cheeks of Noreen's bottom and down the backs of her thighs.
Noreen twisted her bare legs and squirmed pro-testingly at our investigation of the state she was in. Yet as Mr. Snook pulled the girls ass-cheeks hard apart again, we saw the moist gleam of saddle-soap where it had been used to lubricate Noreen's butt-hole. The reason for this lubrication lay on the ground close by. It was a candle, about the thickness of a broom-handle and with a rounded tip where the wick appeared. The state of this tip, as well as one or two muddy blemishes further down was proof that Noreen had been made to have the full length of it up her behind.
Mr. Snook picked it up and held it for the girl to see, causing anger and confusion to mingle in Noreen's brown eyes. He stroked back the dark fall of hair from her face.
"Was it a tight fit, Noreen? Did you like the feel of a little butt-exercise for a change? I'm sure your master will make use of such a fine broad-bottomed candle-holder at his next banquet!"
These pleasantries ended. The grooms freed Noreen's athletic legs from the ankle strap, so that she could be driven round and round as she pushed the yoke-bar. For his part, Mr. Bowler touched the cold leather of the switch across the young woman's bare flank and smiled at the impudent resolve in her brown eyes and firm features.
"This is how rebellious fillies are broken in, Noreen. We harness them to the bar and drive them with the whip. Did you think your thrashing would be quickly over? Ah, no, Noreen! You must bear hour after hour of discipline before you are unfastened. Those big rear cheeks of yours may be skinned long before that, but the whip will still drive you. I shall make you smart appallingly from now until this evening-longer if necessary. Your bottom and even your legs shall feel the naked anguish of the whip for the rest of the day. If you still choose to defy me, you shall be brought back here tomorrow morning-and every morning until I am satisfied by your submission. I mean to break you in, Noreen, as my pony-girl. You shall have regular obedience-training. Swell those big ass-cheeks out towards us and drive the yoke-bar round its circle!"
There was a pause, during which one could just hear the light but audible excitement in the breathing of the onlookers. The girl flicked aside her fringe and her brown eyes met Mr. Bowlers with loathing and contempt. I did not then know the entire reason. It seems that while we were fetching the whip the grooms, on Mr. Bowlers order had "milked" Noreen. That is to say, one of them had slipped his fingers into the rear parting of her strong young thighs and manualised Noreen systematically to climax. This was done to make the twenty-one-year-old shopgirl "get it out of her system." In other words, they wished to prevent the danger of Noreen, in her frenzy, trying to masturbate by squeezing her thighs on her clitoris and vaginal lips in order to distract herself from such ferocity of the thrasing and the cuts, of the whip.
They had made Noreen come twice, finishing her quickly so that the punishement need not be delayed. Nor was it. Mr. Bowler now raised the thin black riding-switch and brought it flashing down across the pale cheeks of Noreen's bottom. The stones of the yard sang with the impact. Such naked anguish seemed to paralyse her a moment. Then a frantic cry burst through her rubber bit as her hips surged and twisted.
"Noreen, you young whore!" laughed Mr. Bowler, "Drive the bar round!"
Before she could even contain the smart, let alone obey him, he cracked the rippling switch across the lower softness of her pale buttocks. Noreen's bottom-flesh jumped and quivered as she emitted another shrill cry. I chided her with a smile as she writhed.
"Keep your back straight, Noreen! Your bottom facing your driver!"
Was it deliberate disobedience that prevented her from driving the yoke forward, or was she immobilised by the searching anguish? Noreen twisted her strong young legs together, tensing her rear cheeks desperately, her hind crack pressed to a thin tight line. Two long plum-colored weals embossed her butt-mounds. Mr. Bowler touched the cold leather lightly across her squirming ass-cheeks, letting Noreen feel him measure the next cut. He thrashed hard and in her torment she turned on her hip, offering her flank. Mr. Bowler gave her two purple weals on hip and thigh before the girl turned her backside to the lash once more. He gave her a savage stroke aslant her ass-cheeks and we heard capitulation in Noreen's cry. The young woman's surging bottom was in a fine state with several red imprints of the switch and one raised and darker welt across its centre.
Noreen's bare legs strained with a sudden effort. Her head went down and her bottom faced up a little more as she pushed with all her strength. The yoke-bar creaked and moved. At last Mr. Bowler had overcome her first resistance. With her head and shoulders down a she strove forward, Noreen presented us with little more than a big girl's bottom and a pair of strong, active legs.
Mr. Bowler measured the strokes now. The stones of the stable yard rang to a rhythmic whip! ... whip! ... whip! Often the leather switch caught her with such excruciating accuracy that the smart stopped her in mid-step. Yet the next smack of the whip drove her on. A wicked stroke lashed her across the already raised welt and raised a punctuation line of ruby droplets-and Noreen screamed for the first time.
Sometimes Mr. Bowler would let the girl complete a circle of the yard with a single stroke of the whip. Sometimes he gave her a whip-smack at every step. But not for a moment was Noreen safe from the threat of the whip. Small wonder if there was dismay in her eyes. Every nook and cranny of the yard showed her a stable-lad with his stiffness in his hand, pumping excitedly as he watched her ordeal. With a strapping young bottom like Noreen's over the bar, there was not a groom or a stable-boy who would have taken pity on her.
There was no hypocrisy about this punishment. Mr. Bowler and the rest of us assured Noreen that we greatly enjoyed doing it. That short lash at the whip's end curled round and raised plum colored streaks on the pale flank of her hip. Several times after a sizzling whip-smack across her bottom, Noreen retorted before she could check herself. This seemed to add to the excitement and amusement of her admirers-the stable-boys as much as Mr. Snook!
Mr. Bowler mopped his brow, breathless from his untiring devotion to the young woman's moral improvement. He went into the stable to pour himself a glass of lemon barley and perhaps to make Tracey ease his stiffness a little.
While he was gone, a stable-lad ran out from his concealment, the front of his pants bulging as if a size too tight for him. In his hand the little devil had a brown pod of pica-pica, the cowitch plant. As country people know, its sharp little hairs embed themselves easily in the flesh and set up a virulent itching which drives the victim quite mad with its torment for an hour or two. No wonder, then, that the boy wore gloves. Noreen tensed her thighs against him but the cunning young spark got his hand between. He gave the warm folds of the young woman's cunt a long and vigorous rub with the pica-pica before he ran off again. Though Noreen had been made to come before the whip was used to break her in, the tantalising itch between her legs now drove her frantic.
Mr. Bowler returned to find Noreen butt-upwards over the bar, squeezing and rubbing her thighs desperately on the teasing itch which made her cunt prickle and crawl with nervous torment. Her firm young legs were thrust out at a slope behind her, her ankles twined and knees jammed hard together. Gasping, she tried to rub her love-lips between her thighs. The pale and sturdy mounds of Noreen's buttocks contracted together in a quick and urgent rhythm.
Mr. Bowler smiled at her, delighted to see that Noreen had been made to masturbate in front of us.
"Bring yourself off quickly, Noreen! And get those strapping young butt-cheeks over the bar so that we can whip you properly while you do it! We'll add half an hour to your discipline!"
He lashed her seat and the backs of her thighs as she lay squirming in helpless excitement and smarting desperation. The quivering leather smacked down in ear-splitting strokes on her bare flesh. It flashed across Noreen's bottom ... the backs of her thighs ... thighs ... bottom ... bottom ... bottom ... thighs ... thighs ... the backs of her knees ... bottom ... the backs of her knees again ... a line of ruby dots welled across Noreen's bottom-cheeks ... her thighs again ... another cut across her bottom and Noreen yelled wildly as she squeezed herself ... the backs of her thighs . . .her thighs again ... low across Noreen's bottom, drawing a tiny trickle of red ... her thighs ... a sizzling whip-smack across the full-cheeked swell of Noreen's bottom ... Noreen farted as the sturdy cheeks of her young bottom surged and writhed ... another ringing smack of the leather switch across the strapping young cheeks of Noreen's bottom ... again unable to contain the savage smart, Noreen farted and squirmed butt-upwards over the bar. . .
Mr. Bowler did no more than his duty. With the broad bare cheeks of Noreen's bottom presented over the bar and a whip in his own hand, any magistrate would have been pitiless with her. Noreen came presently with a gasping and shivering, to the delight of Mr. Bowler who wanted her to "get it out of her system," so that proper discipline could resume. Mr. Snook was almost jumping up and down with excitement for the rudeness we had heard from Noreen assured him that she was in an urgent plight. Mr. Bowler striped her with the whip twice more. As he touched the switch across her buttocks, taking aim, Noreen's bottom paid its rudest tribute to the slim polished leather and Mr. Snook quivered in a senile spasm. Mr. Bowler smiled.
"I'm going to hand you over to two young stable-lads with whipcord for an hour, Noreen. They were scolded yesterday for excessive whipping of a four-legged filly. I'll leave you alone with them!"
The two young drivers had all the lust of youth and pent-up desire. Each used a doubled length of whipcord, thrashing Noreen eagerly as they drove her round. They drew her hair back into a collar-length pony-tail to watch her face more easily. In her fury, Noreen tried to kick out at these two young masters. They rewarded her well, dodging the assault nimbly and thrashing Noreen's legs with their whipcord while she danced and twisted under the strokes. The imprints of the cord showed from the backs of her thighs, just under her bottom-swell, down to her knees and calves.
How those gentlemen who had so admired the full-cheeked view of Noreen's bottom in working-trousers would have liked to see her now! The insolence they had suffered from the broad-hipped young wench would have ensured they took no pity on her in such a predicament. Our two stable-lads followed behind her as she strove to push the yoke-bar. Whip-cracks echoed across the yard as they slowly embroidered Noreen's bottom-cheeks with the flashing energy of their whips. Noreen shrieked into her gag, yet whether it was anguish or abuse I could not tell. The collar-length pony-tail of dark hair flew this way and that as she twisted her head, bucking and writhing over the bar. A score of red droplets rose from the cord-pattern, where the whips had cut her backside, and trickled down her full rear cheeks.
Presently the lads paused, whispering and grinning together. They went forward and adjusted the front bar of the yoke, to which her wrist-cuffs and collar were attached, so that her head and shoulders were pulled lower and she bent more tightly still over the rear bar. As they drew her shoulders down, her buttocks began to swell and broaden still more. This extreme posture made Noreen thrust her hips and buttocks back harder, as well as bending her knees forward a little. For all her defiance, they made her show a complete rear view by bending her in this manner. Her big taut buttocks were pulled hard apart, the crack between them lay open, as if Noreen was offering it seductively to the lads.
Noreen's crack was now at the disposal of her two implacable young disciplinarians. At its centre, her tight and dark rear dimple offered a suggestive bulls-eye. As their sturdy young pony-girl strained forward again, the lads set up a slow but regular rhythm of whip-smacks. The wicked cord of the lash often curled and clung to the statuesque curves of Noreen's buttocks. Yet sometimes it was aimed with more severe intent. With lightning speed, the whipcord flashed between Noreen's bottom-cheeks in the most intimate of punishments.
There was another pause. The two young sparks decided they must train their filly over the hurdles. This was done by stretching several lengths of rope, about two feet above the ground. The ropes ran from the capstan of the yoke-bar and were tied fast to the walls of the stable-yard where tethering hooks had been set. As Noreen went forward, harnessed bending over the bar, she was obliged to overcome the obstacles of the ropes stretched across her path. They came just at the level of mid-thigh.
To "jump the hurdles" Noreen must cock one leg high and wide, buttocks parted and thighs open a she straddled. Then she must open herself again to draw the other leg after. One did not need the wisdom of Merlin to see what the boys aimed at!
At this moment, Mr. Bowler himself chose to lend support to his stable-boys. He handed each of them one of the tapering leather switches with its twelve-inch tail of lash. Noreen came to the first rope "hurdle" which touched her across the front of her thighs. She flicked back the short tail of her hair and the brown eyes under level fringe looked in dismay at Mr. Bowler. As a criminal under discipline, Noreen knew what would happen if she opened her legs wide and offered her buttocks spread!
"Obey your drivers, Noreen!" said Mr. Bowler with a smile, "Will you refuse the jump? Truly so? Very well. Some men might take pity on the state of your bottom. Here it will only inspire severity!"
The lads began to thrash the twenty-one-year-old shopgirl with the rippling leather of their switches. Noreen's bottom-cheeks, broadened and fattened by her posture, jumped like smacked jelly under the strokes. Jamming one knee into the back of the other to contain the smart, her toes curled with the intensity of the torment. Though the rubber "bit" between her teeth muffled her fury, she shrieked at her young drivers. Legs twisting and hips squirming, Noreen writhed under the whips but still refused the "hurdle." Even now, her resentment was stronger than her pain!
One of the lads, always slipping off to smoke cigarettes with Sally Fenton on the sly, took a gasper and lit it. Then he fitted it into a long slim fruit cane, like a giant's slender blow-pipe. Noreen was unable to see quite what he was doing. The lad grinned at us. Standing out of range of the young woman's legs, he reached forward. He touched the hot firefly glow between the young tart's broad and well-spread buttocks. Every sinew, from those of the stable-boys to that of old Mr. Snook stiffened still harder at this. The elderly admirer of the young woman's behind was delighted to see Noreen's crack caressed by glowing thrills. Those pale, most intimate inward slopes of her hind cheeks were touched up with a tickle here and then another there. Noreen shrieked and cocked her bare leg over the first rope, thighs and buttocks parted wide. A dozen times as she took the "jumps," the whip smacked between her open legs. A dozen times more, the flashing leather smartened the crack between Noreen's ass-cheeks.
By now the two lads had to unbutton their trousers to give their stiffness more room. They made Noreen take all the rope "hurdles" twice more. In the frenzy of her ordeal, the sturdy young trollop bit right through the inch of india-rubber fixed between her teeth. At last Noreen lay butt-upwards over the bar, knees buckling, the singlet hem pulled well up above her bare pale hips.
Though there was a pause, Noreen was not yet broken in, to Mr. Bowler's entire satisfaction. The smelling-bottle to her nostrils revived her drooping spirits. A lad tore paper from a roll, soaped it, and mopped over her wet thighs and the few muddy blemishes with which Noreen's bottom was still smudged. Having finished, he made a wad of the soaped tissue and disposed of it by poking it in Noreen's rear until it vanished from sight.
To make the smart of the whip blaze anew, they took the jar of salted fat and spread the contents over her whipped buttocks and thighs, till she gasped and squirmed. The mounds of Noreen's buttocks shone bright crimson and sleak with the grease. Mr. Bowler invited Mr. Snook and I to take tea in the stable-room while he recouped his strength.
"I'll come back in half an hour and deal with you myself for the rest of the afternoon, Noreen," he said to the squirming culprit, "I'm not at all satisfied with you yet!"
From the window I could just see Noreen with the two stable-boys who had given her the whip. They whispered a command in her ear and showed her the glowing gasper, which made Noreen clench her shining, blazing buttocks in fright.
The first boy held her head, adjusting his penis-knob to her mouth. Noreen's lips closed over the stiffness of his prick, her tongue working on the boy who had whipped her so soundly. The second lad walked round behind the bending shopgirl. He took her first between the legs and then stretched Noreen's anus on his lusty young tool. With his hardened penis up her bottom, even the coarse hair round his tool made Noreen wince as it touched her raw and salted ass-cheeks.
The young devils spared her nothing. In a moment they changed places. Noreen's butt was amazingly stretched on the tool she had sucked. To her lips, the second boy presented a gorged erection which bore certain lamentable proofs of its recent probing in Noreen's backside. Can one wonder that she pressed her lips tight and turned her head away? Yet they showed her the gasper whose tip sparkled and glowed. The lad slowly menaced Noreen's bottom with it once, between the cheeks. With a frantic cry at the ardent touch, the young rebel opened her mouth and sucked the penis presented to her lips, licking from it the tell-tale traces with which she had unwittingly blemished it.
The lad who stood behind her rode her young cunt with the energy of a demon. Yet he was wise enough to withdraw before pumping up her belly. His hammerhead stretched open Noreen's anus. He enjoyed the exquisite tightness for ten more minutes.
"Now the sperm in your backside!" he gasped, "Bend right over, Noreen, you young scrubber! Take it deep in your ass."
At the same time the other lad pumped his sperm over her tongue and held her head close, so that Noreen was obliged to swallow all the warm gruel which spurted from his young penis. Neither of the stable-boys released her after this. The tightness of Noreen's arsehole stiffened the boy behind her again and the thought of making her swallow a second helping revived the lad whom she sucked. So one of them gave her another squirting of thick and urgent passion, right up Noreen's bottom, while the other flooded her tongue and her throat for a second time. They withdrew at last and left her for Mr. Bowler's attentions.
The fact that the strapping young cheeks of Noreen's bottom had been so finely skinned did not soften her master. He drove this sturdy wench round and round upon the yoke-bar with singing smacks of the leather whip across her backside. It was dusk when the grooms undid her straps. Noreen's thrashed legs trembled and she sank to the tiles of the stable-yard at her master's feet.
Next morning he summoned her and demanded obedience to the most extreme commands. Thrashing had not cured Noreen of her anger and resentment, for one does not change character so easily. Yet she dared not invited a second "breaking in" over the yoke-bar. So, swallowing her fury and sullenness, she performed every act commanded of her.
A few weeks later, Noreen was put under the personal supervision of old Mr. Snook himself at Snook's Hall, the fine manor house of a village some twenty miles distant. I was to be his guest there many times and well recall my first visit.
I half expected to hear gossip among the locals, whispers of old Joshua Snook as a libertine and senile debauchee. Instead, I heard only the singing of his praises. He was the backbone of Old England, enemy to radicals and revolutionists, the defender of the Crown and the law against red socialism and anarchy. His preoccupation with enforcing cleanliness and discipline upon little sluts like Sally Fenton or Jane Mitchener, as well as big girls of Noreen's kind, was warmly approved. The villagers regarded it as nothing short of a scandal that he had not been rewarded with a peerage or, at least, a baronetcy.
So each morning, during her stay, Noreen was brought by his servants to the white-tiled room. Tense and yet not daring to resist, she removed her denim skirt or working-jeans. Noreen's panties came down and, clad only in her short cotton singlet, she was made to lie face down over the rubber cushions on the marble table. For safety's sake, her wrists were strapped to the comers at one end, her ankles pinioned together at the other.
For an hour or more, Mr. Snook would busy himself, alone with the girl. There was much patting and parting of those sturdy young buttocks, so full and pale. Pressing them apart, the old gentleman made his amorous inspection of Noreen's crack. His lips printed kisses on Noreen's bare bottom-cheeks and thighs. He obliged her to perform most rudely and lewdly as she lay over that table. All this his villagers and tenants knew.
Do you suppose they reviled him for it? How innocent you are! They swore that Noreen was a young trollop, a whore, a slut, a fat-arsed bitch who amply deserved the cruellest punishment that the magistrates could devise. And they swore that Mr. Snook was a fine gentleman of the old school who would let nothing stand in the way of treating her as she deserved.
You may imagine that I thought much of this as I drove back to Coombe where Laura, Ruth, and Sian awaited my attentions!