Prologue
It wouldn't be fair to say that Jane Lowell was a bad girl. She did have some habits that would make the classic Winnipeg Whore look like Little Mary Sunshine, but she couldn't really be blamed for that. She was a victim of circumstance.
The first link in this chain of circumstance was Victor Edward Albert Lowell; he was her daddy. Victor Edward Albert didn't exactly invent money, but his vast industrial and financial empire managed to gather it up in alarming quantities.
It had been said of Victor Edward Albert that he could put two one dollar bills in a cash box and overnight they would produce a litter of tens. But it wasn't that easy, he really worked at being rich and would continue to do so as long as there was another million to be made.
As a result, he didn't get to spend much time with his family, so he did the next best thing, he gave them money. As fast as they could find ways to spend it, he would replenish the supply. It had become something of a game.
Now if Jane Lowell had become adept at playing this game, it was because she had an excellent tutor in the form of her mother, Bunny Lowell. At forty-two, Bunny still had an excellent figure, but made it look even better by encasing it in custom built foundation garments. If there was one thing Bunny preferred more than slipping into a new garment, it was slipping out of one for a young man. The younger he happened to be, the more she enjoyed it.
"Young men," she once confided to her bed hopping friend Ada, "are so much better. They are stronger and so eager to learn and I so enjoy teaching them."
Although Bunny made no great effort to be secretive about her hobby, Victor Edward Albert Lowell chose not to be aware of it. Why, he reasoned, upset family harmony by making a big fuss about a bit of innocent fun. He did, after all, pay the rent on a few lavish apartments around the city which housed, in each case, a charming young woman who could be so sweet to a tired old businessman who was sweet enough to pay her rent.
It was in this kind of atmosphere that Jane grew up. In spite of this, she didn't discover the joys of sex until the age of fourteen. This discovery came one sunny afternoon when she wondered why Bunny and the gardener had locked the door behind them when they slipped into the old carriage house behind the pool.
Being a curious girl, Jane had wheeled her brother's bike up to the side of the old house, climbed up and stood on the crossbar and peeked into the window. Inside, she saw Bunny bending forward with her hands holding the arms of a big chair. Her dress and slip were tossed high over her back, her girdle and panties lay on the floor beside her. The gardener's pants and shorts were tangled about his ankles as he moved toward the arched body which moved in an anxious swaying motion.
Jane had time for a quick lesson in male anatomy. She was surprised that the male accessory was so large and stood at such an angle. It was a brief lesson though, because the man pushed up close against the plump, curving buttocks and the sight was lost from her view.
It was while Jane was studying the next phase of male-female togetherness that the bike moved a little, she lost her balance and grabbed at the window sill. Unfortunately, her face was visible at the window when Bunny, alarmed at the intruding sound, looked up.
The interruption had come at a very bad time for Bunny. She was an extremely angry woman as she rushed outside and clutched the girl by the arm. When a very scared Jane was dragged back into the coach house, she received a terrible scolding. The theme of the lesson was that it is very naughty for girls to peek at adults. Bunny had a fine sense of morality and considered it quite immoral for daughters to peek at their mummies.
The gardener had moved rather quickly and though he was still in the room when Jane was propelled in, he did have his trousers in place. He was an interested spectator as Bunny, still delivering her sermon, pulled Jane over her lap, flipped the dress out of the way, lowered her panties and began to rain a series of very brisk spanks all over the dancing bottom.
Jane cried and kicked her feet as Bunny spanked on and on and on. Although the spanking hurt like blazes, Jane was hurt more by the damage to her dignity; the terrible embarrassment of a 'young woman' of fourteen being spanked on the bare behind before the interested gaze of a man. She thought she would die, but the brilliant color of her firm, young buttocks, as Bunny pulled the panties back up, indicated that Jane was still very much alive. She ran from the coach house as fast as her young legs would carry her. As she left the scene, the door was relocked. Bunny was not one to let a little interruption spoil a good thing.
Jane had no secrets from her brother Bob who was a year older and her best friend in all the world. Holding her offended bottom, she found Bob and told him all about what she had seen.
He was terribly interested and wanted a detailed account. His eager interest stimulated her to forget about the indignity of the spanking and to concentrate on her graphic report.
Later, after she had answered the same questions a half dozen times each, she gave in to Bob's insistent demands and displayed the results of the spanking. She felt deliciously wicked as she held her dress up while Bob lowered the little panties and feasted his eyes. He patted the spanked cheeks and was generally very consoling and, incidentally, quite nosy.
But a girl can't always give without expecting something in return. He was just a little nervous about dropping his trousers, but after that he became absorbed in guiding Jane through a lesson in the anatomy of the male. It was all quite innocent though, just the usual curious explorations of boys and girls.
After that, they concentrated on following Bunny around the estate or at the big country estate at the lake. They caught her a surprising number of times and learned very much.
It could not be considered too surprising that in time, their innocent little games got out of control. Jane had only commenced enjoying this stage of womanhood when Bob went out to play with his birthday present one day. The present was a gleaming new convertible, just the thing for a boy who had become seventeen and had everything else.
He missed a curve at a little better than seventy and after that, he didn't have anything, not even life.
Jane lived in a frightening state of shock after that. For months she cried, refused to talk, rarely ate, showed no interest in life at all. Bob had been the most important thing in her life and he was gone. Sixteen can be a crucial age for a girl at best, but for Jane, it was intolerable.
One day she followed the chauffeur into the garage when Bunny was downtown on a shopping spree. At first he was stunned by her obvious offer. When she left the garage a half hour later, she had found a new interest in life. Her period of mourning came to an end.
That fall, they sent her away to a residential school. The letter that came to her parents two months later indicated as discreetly as possible that Jane was a little too advanced for the other students and that it would be better if she did not return to the school after the Christmas holiday. Two members of the school's maintenance staff were fired and one male teacher operated under a cloud of suspicion.
Jane recommenced her education at an all female institution in January. She quickly discovered that certain joys can be accomplished without male participation and that other girls could be so tender and affectionate. She went on to discover that even teachers can be human; very, very human. When she was kicked out of the school in March, daddy was very understanding.
"Oh well," he replied casually, "you are seventeen now and if you don't want to go back to school, don't go." He bought her a nice car to keep her occupied and cautioned her to drive carefully. He was a very understanding father.
Bunny couldn't really understand what had happened to their daughter. "I just can't understand you, Jane. You have all the advantages other girls don't have, and yet you act like a common tramp."
"Just don't try to spank me again, mother dear," Jane answered confidently, "or I may decide to share the gardener with you. By the way, mother, "how's the new chauffeur in the back seat?"
"Children," Bunny remonstrated, "can be so cruel and unappreciative. You give them the best of everything and look how they turn out."
She became so despondent that she went into town for a massage. Amahl would make her feel good again. He would relax her tense muscles. His hands were so strong, yet gentle. His methods were so unorthodox.