Part XI

Heated by the conclusion the story and the delicious idea of Fred enjoying his own mother, Alice and I enjoyed a mutual gamahuche before putting out the light.

Next morning, as we dressed, Alice said, “I had the most delicious dream, dear Beatrice, in which Miss Pennington birched me well. No doubt seeing her spank you yesterday put it in my mind. She was not very severe with you - now tell me true, did it not excite you somewhat?”

I felt myself blush a little.

“Beatrice! I declare, you are spoony for Miss Pennington!”

I admitted that the birching had inflamed me, and told Alice how Miss Pennington had caressed my bottom. “Seducing your mother, dear Alice, has quite turned my head to the pleasures that can be had in the arms of an older woman, and I think she might be amenable to yet warmer embraces,” I said.

In class that day I gave Miss Pennington cause to criticise me, and she administered another birching. Again, she did not flog me too hard and as she spanked my posterior I wriggled on her lap hoping to somewhat stimulate her in return. Once more I noted heightened colour in her cheeks as she sent me back to my seat. At the end of class that day, I lingered behind. Miss Pennington noticed me and said, “Lady Beatrice, do you require something?” in her usual formal, almost cold tone.

“Dear Miss Pennington, I wanted to apologize for my lack of attention in class today. I am becoming a young woman now and it is increasingly obvious that my behaviour has not been what it should be, especially to you.”

Miss Pennington’s severe look softened to hear my words. “I am glad to hear this new attitude, Lady Beatrice,” said. “It does you credit.”

I wanted to soften her yet further, and so I took her hands in mine and kneeled before her. “And also I must apologize for those shameful caricatures I made of you. I know that I expressed sorrow at the time, but I did not mean it - I only spoke to stop the flogging. But now I am truly remorseful! Dearest Miss Pennington, I know how hard you work to educate we young ladies and to prepare us for a world that does not treat us well. I have never treated you with the honour and respect you deserve!”

As I spoke these last words, my head was buried in her lap, as if in genuine remorse but in truth so that I could press my forehead against her belly and maybe even exert a pleasing pressure on her cunny.

She quite melted to hear these words, lifting to my feet and saying, “Lady Beatrice, I thank you for these words.” As she spoke I saw not the stiff and severe governess I had so grown used to, but rather a warm and emotional woman.

“I shall do better, dear Miss Pennington, and you must remind me if I go astray again.” Saying this, I gave her a warm hug laying my head against her breasts - once again I was playing the innocent but naturally my goal was to inflame her. She looked a little taken aback at this and somewhat hesitantly returned my embrace.

“Run along now, dear Lady Beatrice, you are indeed a sweet girl,” said she. I observed her colour was up and her breath came a little faster, and as I left the classroom I was confident I had made a good start on seducing her. I resolved to proceed slowly but firmly, until she was ready to take the most indecent liberties with me.

About three weeks after, Alice received a letter from her mother, enclosing a further private letter from her to me, as well as a missive from Fred.

Frances’ letter to Alice mentioned that Mr. Marchmont had returned to France, taking William with him, while she remained at the hall to look after Fred. No doubt, I thought to myself, Mr. Marchmont was eager to once more pursue the grossest indecencies with Henri and Aurora.

I may say here, Walter, that he took such a fancy to the house that he later bought it. When Alice and I finished school at about the age of seventeen, we spent a few weeks there. I had not then repeated William’s tale to Alice, but I chose to do so, for it was my intention to bring about a grand frolic. I was successful in my endeavours and not only did I at last get Mr. Marchmont to fuck me, but he fucked Alice as well. It gave me the greatest delight to see father fuck daughter, and I kissed and petted Alice as he plunged his noble cock in her willing pussey, she murmuring all the while, “Oh, Papa, yes, dear Papa, fuck me!” and such like words of salacious ecstasy as the paternal sperm filled her womb.

We cavorted with Henri and Aurora as well, both now most attractive and accomplished lovers with absolutely no prejudices. Aurora was with child, though whether Mr. Marchmont’s or William’s or even her brother’s was unknown. How I loved to see the men fuck her and then spend all over her swollen belly, just as much as I loved to see Alice drenched in her own dear father’s sperm.

It was during these orgies that it came out William had fucked Alice some months before her twelfth birthday, a fact that her father found greatly stimulating. He enjoyed seeing his daughter being fucked or buggered by Willie - ah, Willie who too soon after was in his grave.

Of course we were both much more interested in Fred’s letter but we were disappointed - it was just a few lines. He reported that he was active in making the attempt on his mother, all the more so since Lucy had once again returned home, claiming the need to tend an ailing relative (though Fred speculated this was a ruse to let her enjoy her brother once more). Her absence left him “quite wild with lust” as he put it. But with his ankle still in plaster he lacked the opportunity to bring matters to a head with her. He owned that he had tried the ruse of asking his mother to help him dress or even bathe, but she said to do so would not be proper and had the servants assist him. “Yet doubt not,” his letter concluded. “Once this blasted cast is off, I shall find the excuse to creep into her chamber and stimulate her passions just as my dear Beatrice did. My love - and more! - to you both. Look to hear from me soon.”

Frances’ letter to me was much more interesting, and I shall transcribe it here for your delectation, dear Walter, so that you may better know better what a hot and lecherous woman she is.

Frances’ letter

Darling, daring Beatrice -

Let me begin by saying how keenly I miss you - you have become more to me than simply my daughter’s friend - you have become my lover, and I pine for you. Your dear sweet caresses and your lively wit - how I miss them! And how I sorrow to miss the chance to take delight in you as you grow from a girl to a woman, to see your bubbies - perfect as they are now - grow, and the hair spread over your charming pussey. Oh, my dear! How many times have I idled in a delicious reverie, dreaming of your lips about me, pleasuring myself with the toys I so enjoyed using on you, as you used them on me.

But this letter is not to be a dreamy recapitulation of our cavorts, dear girl, much as I would like composing such an epistle; rather, I have a more serious purpose.

My sweet Beatrice, I write on a delicate matter - fie, look at this! I blush to think of what I am about to write - and how can I blush when we have been so intimate? So to the point -

Beatrice, I must ask you what you know of relations between Frederick and Alice. I had been most delighted to see how sweetly Alice wheeled Frederick around the grounds before she returned to school.

At the end of this perambulation, I helped Fred out of the bath- chair and into the house. Once he was settled I returned to the bath-chair to fold and bring in the blanket. Dear girl, I found that blanket stained with semen. Now as I mentioned before, I was aware Fred had discovered the delights of masturbation; it is a practice polite society frowns on, but I regard it as natural and indeed healthy. However, dear Beatrice, I had placed the blanket on Fred myself at the start of their walk and so I knew it to be clean. What conclusion could this leave me but that the emission had taken place during their ramble?

My first reaction was one of horror. Had Frederick exposed himself to Alice? Worse still, had he forced himself on her, taking liberties of the grossest sort? Yet Alice had not looked distressed upon her return - far from it, for indeed she appeared the picture of health and happiness.

My next thought, dear Beatrice, was perhaps that Alice was a willing partner in whatever had taken place. But was she just a spectator as Fred handled himself? Did she help him to an emission? Or was it worse, had they enjoyed each other to the full? My son and daughter, committing the crime of incest!

Ah, Beatrice, try as I do to keep shame from me, the emotion springs up in me as I admit - do you think me terrible? - that I find some excitement in the idea of Alice and Fred enjoying themselves in this way.

I thought to write to you to ask what you knew, dear Beatrice, of how things stood between my children, for I know you are close to Alice and I do not imagine she has many secrets from you.

But as I have been writing this letter, I have started to wonder how far your intimacy might have proceeded with my daughter. I reflect on the fact that you have shared a room with Alice for about a year now, and that in this year you have both begun the change from child to woman. I think of all the natural feelings that arise in the body at this time (and indeed remember my own long-ago encounter with one of the servant girls) and I begin to imagine you may have explored each other’s developing bodies to the utmost, embracing the temptations that flesh is heir to. Dear Beatrice, that does not alarm me (rather, it charms - even excites me -) but it is a thought that (as thoughts are wont) leads to another.

I recall that glorious night in your room shortly before you left the hall (and took something of my heart with you) and fresh questions arise in my mind. Perhaps it was mere coincidence that ‘Pearl’ (to judge by my caresses of her growing contours) seemed to be at about the same stage of development as Alice. But I was struck by how perfumed ‘Pearl’ was, for the children of the staff wash but seldom. Beatrice, when I was helping Alice pack before she returned to school I noted that one of her bars of soap was of the exact same scent. It could be, perhaps, that ‘Pearl’ had filched some of this expensive soap. But how likely was that? And why was it that ‘Pearl’ was so reluctant to let me see her face? She knew I was not really angry with her, and it would have been only advantageous for her to have her mistress’s favour. Then I think of that night we recited speeches (let me say I most enjoyed your declamation of Regan’s speech that you delivered to Mr. Marchmont, dear) and I recall how able a mimic of voices my daughter is.

Dear Beatrice, was ‘Pearl’ truly Alice? This thought, which I admit shocked me at first, no longer seems so terrible, for reasons I will come to explain. My little love, I do not insist you betray any confidence; but do know that should matters stand as I suggest, my affections for you will not change - and perhaps we may even find new ways to explore our passions.

You will know I have been tending Frederick these past few weeks and I must tell you, dear Beatrice, his conduct has not at all been what a son’s should be. He casts the most longing glances at me (thinking his gaze unobserved), and his hands rove about me freely, somewhat masked as the natural hesitancies of the invalid. If he has indeed seduced his sister, it seems he now wants to seduce his mother.

I have maintained the strictest decorum towards him, but the truth is his behaviour excites me. I have observed his swelling prick in his breeches (he remains quite oblivious of this) and indeed it seems a fine, study tool. Beatrice, I am inclined to yield him the laurels and let him have his victory. And you will gather from this that if indeed it was Alice in your bed that evening, why, I am not at all angry with you, my love.

And so once again I urge your candour; let there be no secrets between us, my dearest.

May it not be long until you are in my arms once more - and believe me your truly loving -

Frances

Postscript - I have included herein a more formal letter of greeting; this you may show to Alice, should she be curious about what I have written to you - for if my speculations are indeed idle fancies I would not want her to think that we were carrying on a clandestine correspondence. But if matters stand as I suspect, I leave it you your judgement as to whether you show her this missive. A kiss.

I shared this letter with Alice in the greatest delight and it quite fired our passions. After we had somewhat satisfied our heated blood in just the way you will imagine (I hardly need write it), we discussed how I should reply.

“A full and frank confession is the wisest way,” counselled Alice. “For Mama is clearly enamoured of Fred, and I should like to join in the fun once we are all back at the hall.” This was exactly my thinking, and so I replied to Frances with candour.

That letter is lost, dear Walter, so it must suffice to say I admitted that Pearl had indeed been Alice, and that just as Frances thought, Alice and I had been most free with one another for many months. I owned that Alice and Fred had played together, but passed over the depth of their affair for I felt there was only so much candour dear Frances could accept at once. Out of the same prudence I did not mention Alice’s intrigue with William.

I also said that Fred had indeed spoken to us both of his growing desire for his mother and his aim to seduce her. “Dear Frances,” I wrote in closing (something like this, at least) “I urge you to keep to the path you have chosen, pretending ignorance of his wicked desires; for to let him think the victory is wholly his will greatly increase his stimulation - and, I am sure, yours too. Perhaps the truth can be told when next we all meet at the hall but for now - dear Frances, my love! - do let him think he has seduced you all unawares.”

The letter written and posted, I turned my thoughts once again to Miss Pennington.

Alice was my willing companion in my seduction of the governess, helping me find little ways to please and flatter her in the weeks that followed. When we were walking in the school grounds one day, for example, Alice pointed to a blossoming cherry tree and suggested I make a posy for Miss Pennington. I did so, presenting it to her with a curtsey. Another time, I used my artistic skill to draw a portrait of her - and this one, you may be sure, was respectful and flattering. In class the governess’s attitude to me began to change, becoming more expressive and gentle. The change was slight, for Miss Pennington generally maintained her prior formality, and I do not think any of the other girls noticed. Of course Alice saw it, alive as she was to all the shades of erotic expression.

“Dear Beatrice, press on and soon you will win her,” said she. “And indeed I begin to see why you wish it, for she is a truly handsome woman.”

Some three weeks after Frances wrote to me about her son’s manoeuvres, a letter from the young satyr himself arrived. Alice ran up to me with the treasure, still unopened, in her hand. “Beatrice, feel the thickness - there are several sheets in here. Oh, he must have been successful.” Placing the letter in a pocket, she said we would read it together that night. I confess neither of us concentrated well in the schoolroom that day, but so softened had Miss Pennington become that she did not remark upon it.

Tucked up in bed that night, Alice broke the red wax seal, stamped with Frederick’s signet ring, unfolded the missive, and began to read it out loud.

Frederick’s Letter

Angelic Alice, beloved Beatrice! (“Somewhat poetic” observed Alice - “He seems full of joys, that’s a promising sign, dear.”)

I write to tell you that my conquest is complete; victory is mine - and, ah, it was no easy campaign, but what a reward! By Jove, how splendidly mother fucks!

Some ten days ago, the doctor deemed me ready to have the cast removed. You may well imagine the sense of freedom I felt to be free of that damn bath-chair and able to walk where I would. While I had tried to exercise my leg during its confinement as the doctor advised, the muscles had still weakened such that I needed to continue use of a crutch. And this, dear girls, was indeed a disguised blessing, for Mama offered to accompany me on my walks, bidding me take her arm in mine. How it thrilled me to feel my body pressed close to hers! I played up my weakness, sometimes pretending to stumble so that I could seize her about the waist as if for support. Sometimes I even managed to arrange it so that my flailing arm - all by chance, as it seemed to her - fell across her glorious bosom. She offered only solicitous care and no remonstrance at these intimate little touches. Sometimes I would take her by the hand as if we were admitted lovers, and we would walk for many minutes like this before she gently put my arm through hers to observe the more proper style.

One day we were surprized by an unexpected shower of rain, and, since I was unable to walk fast there was nothing for it but that we both were deluged. Mama had worn only the lightest of clothing, and how prettily the wet fabric outlined her figure! I do believe she was quite embarrassed, yet did I detect a tremor of a warmer feeling in her? I felt the damp cloth against her skin did indeed stimulate her. Ah, dear girls, all this pleased me greatly and I felt I was making a credible attack on her outer fortifications. Consider, too, with Father gone I had all the greater share of her time and I was increasingly confident that I should soon take over the privileges that were more rightly his.

Yet how to continue the conquest? I racked my brain so! I could not claim a nightmare and ask to share her bed, for I am too old for that and I could not somehow go to her chamber when it was dark, pretending to be my father, for he was in France. I could not even spy on dear Mama because the keyhole to her room was rather small and moreover did not give on to the inner chamber, where she might undress. I went so far as to imagine using cantharides on her, but where would I get such a tincture?

I then thought of bribing Lottie (you will recall, cook’s pretty little daughter) to assume the role of ‘Pearl’ and go to mother’s rooms - then I would surprise them in the act and she would be in my power. But after giving Lottie a sixpence to strip for me I saw her bubbies were so much less developed than yours, dear sister, that Mama would detect the subterfuge.

(I may say, dear girls, so raging with passion was I that I prevailed upon Lottie to bring me to a most delicious spend with her fingers and mouth - how surprized she was as my seed spurted all over her naked body! She demanded a joey to add to the sixpence, or, she said, “I will tell your mother of the nasty thing you have done to me, for my Ma is always talking of the evil of carnival knowledge and this is what she must mean!”

“Carnal knowledge, Lottie,” said I. “And you shall have your coin as long as you promise to keep the secret.” I think that when she has grown a little, in a year or two, she will be amenable to all sorts of fun).

But such complicated strategies proved needless, for Mama herself presented the opportunity I so keenly sought. You can be sure my eye were never far from Mama’s body, and so when I saw a grimace of discomfort on her face as she was quizzing me the following day on my school work (which she had made sure I had kept up), I enquired what ailed her. “I believe that soaking we took has raised an ache in my shoulders.”

“Dear Mama, I shall knead you to ease the ache,” I said. “You have cared for me so well these past weeks that it is only right I try to succour you now.” I bid her sit on a low stool and lean on her writing desk, and stood behind her to begin my manipulations. I began my gently working my fingers into her shoulders. “Does that help, dear Mama?” I asked.

“Indeed it does, Frederick, you are most gentle,” said she.

Now I decided to see if I could push matters on a little. I undid the top two closures of her dress. “Fred, what are you about?” said she. “I am just exposing your shoulders a little, Mama, the better to help you.” I continued my operations and Mama owned that it was much easing her. She seemed to drift off into a pleasant reverie and so, with great care so that she should not notice, I further undid the remaining closures. I began to stroke and caress her fair skin, and I felt her breathing begin to change as my actions had the effect I intended.

I was by this time almost bursting out of my breeches with desire. I felt it was time to make the boldest attack and so I pressed my body against her back so that she should feel my hard cock pressing into her.

“Frederick!” said she, but before she could exclaim further I slid my arms round her to place my hands on her breasts. I pressed my lips against her neck and began to kiss her.

“Frederick!” said she. “How dare you embrace me in this way - do you not know I am your mother, sir!”

“Dear Mama, let me embrace you - you have been so kind to me of late, and I do so want to be closer to you.” Saying this, I worked one hand round her back and under her clothing so that I could caress a breast directly; with the other I freed my cock from my breeches and pressed once more against her so that she could feel it directly against her skin.”

“Wherever did you get such an impudent, wicked idea!” said she - yet in a whisper, not a shout - “How can you think of such actions with your mother!”

All this while I continued to kiss her neck and shoulders, even kissing her ears and darting my tongue therein. “Do you not know how beautiful you are to me, Mama? Oh, I have gazed on your lovely charms so often these past weeks, and how I have dreamed of kissing and caressing you!”

“It is incest you propose,” said she. “The punishment, were we discovered, would be terrible.”

“But we shall not be discovered, Mama, for no servant would dare enter your chamber without permission, and besides, we can lock the door.”

My hard cock was still thrust against her, and I could tell she was becoming increasingly aroused. She turned her head to me now, meeting my eyes directly, a blush of shame on her face.

“You must cease this behaviour at once,” she whispered.

“Dear Mama, I cannot, see how stiff you make me!” I said, directing her hand to my rampant cock. “I must kiss your dear lips, my loved mother.” So saying I pressed my mouth to hers and she resisted but briefly. I plunged my tongue into her mouth and she kissed me back with growing delight.

“Dear Fred, this is a sin, and you must never speak of it to anyone,” she said. I slipped her clothing fully off her shoulders, exposing her to my excited gaze. Falling to my knees I began to kiss and caress her glorious bubbies. “Oh, Fred, you are so wicked” she gasped, but I knew she was lost.

“Let us go to your bedroom,” I said to her, taking her by the hand and leading her to the inner sanctum. As she stood her dress fell to the floor, leaving her just in charming drawers, silk stockings and shoes. Shutting the bedroom door behind us and turning the key in the lock, I embraced her in my arms and kissed her once more. Now my hard pego was jutting against her belly, and she dropped her hand down to hold it. “Why, Fred, you are indeed quite the man,” said she. “Lie on my bed and I will give this fine fellow the kisses he so much wants.”

I lay down and watched in the greatest delight as Mama engulphed my cock in her mouth. She kissed and sucked me with every sign of the greatest pleasure, licking and kissing my balls as well. “Oh mother, dear mother, how delightful - it is too much!” I groaned as I spent into her mouth, pouring a perfect torrent of sperm into her. She willingly swallowed every drop before once more kissing me most passionately.

“And now I must see you naked,” I said, slipping off one stocking and then the other followed by her drawers. At last her glorious cunt was revealed to my eyes, a sight that so enflamed me I felt I might spend at once. I stooped to kiss and lick her, laving her sweet cunt and running a finger inside. She wriggled with the greatest delight, murmuring my name as I caressed her clitoris until she spent in an agony of passion.

Covering her face and mouth in eager kisses, and handling her bubbies, I whispered in her ear, “Did you not enjoy that Mama? Can anything so delightful truly be a sin?”

“You are a dreadful boy, Frederick, to engage in such acts with your mother, yet I cannot deny you have given me the greatest pleasure.”

“And we have greater pleasures to come, Mama,” I replied. “Now I shall lay down and you shall mount upon me.” Mother blushed at this, but did not demur. She straddled me, her cunt over my stiff-standing prick, locking her eyes with mine as she began to lower herself onto me. Ah, I do not have the words to describe how glorious it felt to possess her! Her loving cunt embraced my prick so warmly. She began to move upon me as I caressed her bubbies. “Dear Mama, how wonderful you are, how finely you fuck, yes, fuck me, you cunt is most beautiful” - I ran on like this, saying I know not what until with a groan of ecstasy I spent. Feeling my incestuous sperm deluge the very womb I had come from, Mama too spent.

As we lay on the bed, fondly kissing, she whispered to me, “How wrong this is, dear Fred, mother and son - ah, it cannot happen again, and I should not have allowed this.” But as she spoke my fingers were toying with her wonderful hairy pussey, and I could see the passion building in her once more.

Directing her attention to my cock, again hard as marble, I said, “Dearest mother, now we have embarked on this path, let us not turn back but walk it to the end.” She did not resist as I mounted over her and once more entered her. Mouth pressed to mouth as I plunged in and out of her cunt, our tongues and saliva mingling. The stimulation was so intense that it was but a few moments before I gave my third tribute to love, Mama clutching me fondly as I spent.

After we had somewhat recovered, Mama said to me, “My dear son, this is very wrong, and I wonder whatever gave you the idea to seduce me so deliciously. But you must be very discreet, my dear Fred, for if it were uncovered it would disgrace us both for ever.”

“Dear Mama, say that you will let me have you again and I swear to keep the secret always,” I said. She blushed but did not demur. Bidding me dress, she kissed me once more and gave my prick a most delightful suck. “Go now, Fred, so that you are not missed. I will clean myself and join you later.”

Ah, dear Alice, dear Beatrice, such joy I felt as I left Mama’s chamber - does not Mama have a glorious body, and how hotly she fucks! We have coupled many times since then, for under the pretext of tending to my school work it does not seem amiss that I visit her room each day. She has quite forgotten her former reluctance and our encounters grow ever more ingenious. She has shown me her collection of dildoes, and bid me use one on her bottom-hole while I was in her cunt. It was but a short step from this that she was lecherous for me to fuck her arsehole properly, and great was my delight to push my pego therein and fill her bowels with my loving semen. She has used a dildo on my bottom too, and we have even made water for each other. Of course I have not revealed that I know that you too seduced her, my Beatrice, nor yet than when she fucked ‘Pearl’ she was indeed fucking her own daughter. But I have it in mind that when we are all next at the hall I shall engineer a grand orgy, and Mother shall fuck daughter and son together - what a revel that will be!

Let this be enough from me for now, for Mama is waiting for me and I am dying to be in her cunny and arsehole - but be assured I often dream too of your charms, dear sister, dear Beatrice -

Your brother and lover,

Fred.

We were both delighted by this letter, and how Frances had taken my advice to let Fred think the victory his alone; and moreover Alice - as you can imagine - was most excited by the idea of fucking her mother along with Fred. “It will be a grand orgie indeed - and little Lottie sounds ready for all manner of larks, we shall have to make her part of our games too.”

This was a most exciting idea, and a revel to anticipate; but I was more focused on Miss Pennington, with whom I felt I was almost falling in love. How I wanted to undress her, suck and nip her titties, and glory in her cunny!

The next day was a Saturday and so there were no lessons. The local girls went home (for they only stayed in the dormitory on week days), leaving the school grounds quiet. A little out-of-sorts due to my unsatisfied passion for the governess, I took a book and repaired to a spreading tree to shift my thoughts elsewhere. But as I made my way to the spot, I saw the object of my fascination on her hands and knees in the kitchen garden, digging in the soil with a hand-trowel. How my heart beat to see her there! I tried to maintain a semblance of calm and walked over her. “Dear Miss Pennington, what is it you are doing?” I asked.