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  1. #1

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    Frank and I (Chapter Five)

    If you missed the previous chapters
    Chapter One
    Chapter Two
    Chapter Three
    Chapter Four




    "FRANK'S" DEVELOPMENT. MAUDE'S BIG BOTTOM. AN AFTERNOON IN THE ARBOUR. HOW TOM WAS SPANKED AND HOW "FRANK'S" HAND WANDERED. THE MOTHER'S COMPLAINT. FRANK PAYS THE PIPER. A SEVERE FLOGGING. BOUND AND BIRCHED. THE GRATITUDE. THE CURTAIN STILL NOT LIFTED.

    I will now pass over a space of time. It was the middle, of June; "Frank" had been with me over nine months, and she said she was between fifteen and sixteen years of age. She had grown a little taller, and the contours of her figure had become rounder, but she still looked quite like a boy, in her male attire; for I had taken care that she should always be dressed in long loose jackets which concealed the swell of her bust, and the breadth of her hips; and so far, the secret of her sex was known to no one but myself.

    During the past months, I had the pleasure of taking down her trousers - though not as often as I should have liked - and each time I saw her half-naked figure it appeared to have become more developed; the bottom broader, and plumper, the thighs rounder, and the calves of the legs larger; and while looking at these uncovered charms, I could quite believe she was the age she represented herself to be.

    I never birched her now when she committed an offence, because I preferred to spank her while she lay over my knees, on account of the intense sensual pleasure I experienced where her belly rubbed against my tool, in her writhing. For, though I never spanked her severely, yet the smarting pain always made her twist herself about in a lively manner; causing me once, much against my will, to spend profusely; thereby cutting short my pleasurable sensations.

    She always bore her punishment pluckily, she would cry, and wriggle, but she never made a noise by squealing out loud; and after the smart had passed off, she would become quite composed, never showing the least sulkiness, nor did she blush, or look shyly at me as she formerly had.

    In fact, she appeared to take her occasional spankings as a matter of course; knowing that I never gave her a whipping unless she deserved it. Whenever I did happen to take her across my knees, I really believe I was the more moved of the two - in a different way, of course - for I am sure that I was always more affected by the tickling of my prick, than she was affected by the smarting of her bottom.

    I had grown fond of her, and I think she had begun to have a tender feeling for me, for she would sometimes sit on a stool at my feet, and nestle close up to me, resting her head against my knee in quite the girlish way, and looking up at me, with an affectionate smile. On those occasions, I had some difficulty in preventing myself taking the dear little creature up in my arms and kissing her all over, at the same time telling her that I knew she was a girl.

    But I always managed to restrain myself. There was no hurry, and I intended to wait some time longer before attempting to "pluck the rose".

    I frequently went away, for a few days at a time, to London or other places, and whenever I returned home, "Frank" always welcomed me most warmly, her eyes sparkling, and her cheeks flushing with pleasure; she would take my hand and press it between hers; and I am sure, had I given her the least encouragement, she would have kissed me. But I used merely to shake hands with her in the ordinary male way, and ask her some trivial questions.

    The weather at this time was glorious, and the country was in its full summer beauty, so "Frank" and I spent a good deal of our time in the open air, walking, or driving. I had wished her to learn to ride, but she always refused, and I think I knew the reason of her refusal. She did not like to ride astride, which she would have been obliged to do in her character as a boy.

    And so the days slipped by; the girl being my constant companion, and I thought I knew her disposition and tastes completely; but, later on, I found that I did not know quite everything.

    Towards the end of July I went up to London, where I spent ten days very pleasantly, as I knew numbers of people, and always had plenty of invitations of all sorts; moreover, there was Maude. I slept with her every night, and in the mornings I always renewed my vigour by birching her big, white bottom till it turned as red as a rose; the smarting pain making the tears come into her eyes. But she was very plucky; she would bury her face in the pillow, and allow me to go on whipping her till at last she could bear no more.

    Then she would roll over on to her back, and with outstretched legs, flushed cheeks, and her eyes sparkling through the tears that filled them, she would wait for the furious assault which was soon made upon her by me.

    On my return to Oakhurst, "Frank," as usual, was delighted to see me, and she hovered about me all the evening a most affectionate way. But I was destined soon to see a curious phase in her character, one hitherto unknown to me.

    About a week after my return, on a beautiful afternoon, I took a book and went out into the grounds, intending to go and read in an arbour which had been built under two large oak trees at some distance from the house. This arbour was a favourite resort of mine on a hot day, as the place was always cool and shady, being constructed of latticework, and covered with creepers of various sorts. It was furnished with a couple of low, round, Moorish tables for holding coffee cups; there was a long cane chair well cushioned, and on the floor there were two or three Persian rugs.

    On approaching the arbour, I heard voices: one being "Frank's," and the other was the voice of a child. Now, as I had never before known "Frank" bring a child of any sort into the grounds, I felt rather curious, and I wished to see what was going on inside the arbour, without being seen myself. So I did not go into the place, but slipped quietly round to the back, and peeped in through the creeper-covered latticework. "Frank's" companion was a slight boy of about fourteen, whom I recognised as one of the children of a most respectable woman named Mrs. Barker, the wife of a gardener who lived in a cottage near my lodge gates, but who was not in my employ.

    I was aware that all Barker's children were known by "Frank," but I did not think she would have associated with any one of them.

    The boy, Tom, was a good-looking little fellow, with dark eyes, and curly, brown hair; he was clean, and was neatly dressed in a Knickerbocker suit.

    "Frank" and he, apparently on very friendly terms, were sitting side by side on the long chair. I watched, and listened attentively. The first thing I heard "Frank" say, astonished me. She put a question to the boy.

    "Have you ever been spanked?"

    "Yes, Master Francis," replied Tom. "My mother often gives me a spanking."

    "Then you know what it feels like?"

    "Oh, yes. I knows very well. Do you, master?" said little Tom, grinning.

    "Never you mind," said "Frank," shortly. Then she went on. "I will give you six-pence if you let me spank you. I won't hurt you."

    I pricked up my ears, and smiled, on hearing the cool request made by "Master Francis." Tom laughed, but at once agreed to let himself be spanked; stipulating, however, that he was not to be hurt.

    I looked on with increased interest. The little affair was getting exciting.

    "Master Francis" lost no time, but at once laid the boy across her knees, unbuttoned his knickerbockers, pulled them down to his knees, and tucked up his shirt, as coolly and methodically as if she had been accustomed to the job. I laughed silently at the girl's deliberate way of setting to work at her strange task.

    The boy had a chubby little bottom. which she looked at for a moment or two; then, with her right hand she stroked and squeezed the boy's flesh, exactly in the same way as I had often stroked and squeezed hers and at the same time she put her left hand under his belly, and kept it there, her fingers, no doubt,
    touching his little prick.

    I saw her face suddenly flush, her bosom heaved, and her eyes sparkled.

    "Ah-ha, Miss"' I said to myself, with a chuckle, "you have your hand on it. for the first time in your life, but not for the last, I'll bet.'"

    The boy did not move; and after a moment or two, she took away her hand; then putting her arm over his loins she held him in position, and began to spank him; gently at first, but she seemed gradually to get excited, and she spanked harder and harder, reddening the boy's skin at each smack. He began. to cry loudly, and writhe, but she held him firmly down, and spanked away vigorously, making the urchin scream, kick up his legs in pain, and put his hands behind him.

    She stopped for a moment, seized his wrists, and put her right leg over his legs, then went on spanking the boy, in spite of his yells and struggles, until his bottom was crimson. Then she ceased, and let him roll off her lap on to the floor, where he lay on his face, howling lustily, with his knickerbockers down, and his scarlet bottom bare. He evidently never had bad such a spanking in his life.

    "Frank" was quite out of breath; her face was very much flushed, and I could see her bosom rising and falling, under her jacket. She was obviously agreeably excited; there was a pleased expression on the face, her eyes twinkled, and her lips were curved with a slight smile.

    Rising from her seat, she lifted the squalling child on to his feet, buttoned up his knickerbockers, and tried to soothe him, but in vain. His bottom must have been smarting considerably; he was thoroughly frightened, and he sobbed and cried, vowing that he would tell his mother. Then, without waiting for his sorely earned sixpence, he ran off as fast as he could.

    I had been extremely amused by the scene I had witnessed, but I was very much surprised at "Frank's" proceedings. I did not think she would have been up to such tricks.

    Leaving her in the arbour, I slipped quietly away, walked back to the house, and went up to the library, where I sat down to think over the whole strange affair.

    After turning over everything in my mind, I came to the conclusion, that the whippings the girl had received from me, had raised in her the desire to inflict corporal punishment on some one else. Such is often the case. And as she had come to puberty some time previously, her sexual instincts had awakened, and she, naturally, as a female, had chosen a boy as her victim, not only for the pleasure of spanking him, but also that she might make herself acquainted, by touch, with the male organ.

    I expected I should soon hear more about the affair; as the boy would certainly tell his mother how he had been treated by "Master Francis," and the woman would most probably come to me and make a fuss.

    In about half an hour's time "'Frank" came into the room, looking a little pale; and her manner was nervous. She took a chair near the window, sitting silent and thoughtful, but glancing every now and then at me, with a queer look in her eyes.

    I had a strong inclination to laugh, and to tell her that I had seen her spanking Tom, and feeling his tool; and I also had a desire to let her feel what a full grown prick was like. But I restrained myself.

    "Where have you been?" I quietly asked.

    She started, looked confused, and blushed. "I have been in the arbour."

    "What were you doing there?" I inquired mischievously, suppressing a smile. She grew redder, and more confused, hesitated, and at last stammered out, that it was a very cool place to sit in. Then she took up a book and began to read, as if to avoid further questions.

    I also began to read, and nothing more passed between us at that moment.

    The windows were open, a cool breeze was blowing into the room, the leaves on the tree were rustling softly, and the birds were singing; everything was calm and peaceful, except "Frank," who was restless and fidgety.

    I think an hour must have gone by, when a knock came at the door, and one of the maids appeared; saying, that Mrs. Barker was in the hail, and that she wished particularly to speak to me.

    "Frank" put down the book, and stood up, looking very uncomfortable; no doubt guessing that Mrs. Barker had come to make a complaint.

    I went down to the hall, where I found the woman in a great state of indignation; and she at once poured out her story; telling me how Master Francis had cruelly spanked her son Tom, for no reason whatever; that his bottom was very sore, and as red as fire; that she would have the law on Master Francis; and all that sort of thing. I soothed the justly irritated woman with soft words, gave her a sovereign, and told her that I would punish "Master Francis" for what "he" had done.

    Mrs. Barker was a sensible woman; she thanked me for the money, and took her departure, perfectly satisfied.

    I was sorry the affair had occurred, as I did not want to have any scandal about "Frank," and I was afraid the woman would talk, although she had promised to keep silence.

    I was not a bit angry with "Frank" - quite the contrary.

    In fact, I had a sort of fellow feeling with her. She liked spanking; so did I. Besides I could not help thinking that it was my whipping her, that had made her want to whip.

    Nevertheless, I should have to punish her, as I had promised to do so.

    I went back to the library, where "Frank," looking very woebegone, was waiting for me. I put on a stern face, saying: "I suppose you can guess what Mrs. Barker had to say to me?"

    "Yes," she replied in a low tone.

    "Well, you are a nice boy, I must say. What on earth induced you to spank the unfortunate boy?" I said, feigning great indignation.

    She shifted her feet uneasily, blushed, twisted her fingers together nervously, and replied, in faltering accents: "Oh, I -can't-tell-exactly. You have-often-given me a spanking; and I-I-think it has made me feel-a wish-to-spank some one too. I can't explain why."

    "But why did you spank him so severely? His mother tells me his bottom is red and sore."

    "I did not intend to spank him so hard, but somehow or other I got excited and hardly knew what I was doing. I am sorry I hurt him so much," she said blushing more hotly, and looking more confused and uncomfortable than ever.

    Then she added, with a catch in her voice, and with tears in her eyes: "I suppose you are going to flog me."

    "Yes. I must birch you this time. Fetch me the rod," said I, handing her the key to the drawer in which the instrument of punishment was kept. I was sorry for the girl in one way; but on the other hand I was delighted at the idea of birching her; I had not had the pleasure of seeing her bottom for some time, nor had I birched her since the day on which I had flogged her so severely for striking Jane.

    She went to the drawer, unlocked it, and brought me the rod, and as she handed it to me, she looked beseechingly at me, while the big tears overflowed her eyes and began to slowly trickle down her cheeks.

    "Oh, please don't birch me so hard as you did the last time," she pleaded.

    Then without another word, she took off her jacket, let down her trousers, and heaving a deep sigh, extended herself at full length on the sofa. Taking my handkerchief I tied her wrists together, a proceeding which frightened her; and in a quavering voice she said: "Oh, why have you tied me? I will lie quietly if you do not flog me very hard. Oh! please don't flog me very hard."

    "I am going to give you a dozen smart cuts, and I have tied your wrists to prevent you putting your hands over your bottom in the middle of the punishment," I said, turning up her shirt, and tucking it well out of the way.

    She gave a little sob, buried her face in the sofa cushion and a slight tremor passed over her. She dreaded the rod!

    I took a long look at her plump, well-shaped bottom, exposed in full nakedness before me. The swelling cheeks in their milk-like whiteness were very pretty, but I thought they would look more sweet when they were blushing rosy red under the stinging kisses of the rod. I passed my hand caressingly several times over her cool, smooth, soft skin; and then, laying my hand firmly on her loins, I held her down, and began to birch her smartly; but not so severely as on the previous occasion.

    She burst into tears, and at each cut she gasped and shuddered, drawing in the cheeks of her bottom; and as the strokes continued to fall, her flesh began to twitch, she writhed and twisted, and cried bitterly with pain. Then, raising her head, she looked over her shoulder, and fixed her eyes, dilated with fear, on the dreaded rod each time it rose in the air; and each time the cut fell on her shrinking bottom, she flattened herself down on the sofa, throwing her hips from side to side with impatient jerks, and uttering little shrieks - but not loud ones – until the twelve strokes had been inflicted.

    On the whole, she had borne her punishment fairly well, for it had been rather a severe one; her bottom being extremely red, and a good deal striped, when all was over.

    I must confess that I had thoroughly enjoyed birching the girl, and, as a natural consequence, I had a very strong erection. I am not a cruel man under ordinary circumstances; but latterly, whenever I had seen the girl's bottom reddening and writhing in pain under my strokes, I had felt no pity for her sufferings; my only sensation being one of intense desire

    Consequently, on this occasion, I was, as usual, full of lust, and I was strongly tempted to clasp the half-naked, crying girl in my arms, press my lips to the glowing cheeks of her pretty bottom, and finish the whole affair by turning her over on to her back, and taking her maidenhead then and there. However, I curbed my ardent desire; and to rid myself of the temptation, I untied her wrists, telling her she might go away.

    She got off the sofa, standing for a moment or two with an expression of pain on her face, crying silently; her trousers hanging about her feet, and her legs bare. Then she buttoned up with trembling fingers, put on her jacket, and walked out of the room.

    I sat down in an easy chair, and lighting a cigar, began to smoke, thinking to myself that I had passed a rather exciting afternoon. It was then five o'clock, and as I did not feel inclined to go out, I remained in the library, reading until it was time to dress for dinner.

    When I reached the dining-room, "Frank" was not there, and as she had not made her appearance when the soup had been put upon the table, I sent one of the maids to find out what was the matter. In a short time she came back and told me that "Master Francis" was not coming down, as he had a bad headache. On hearing that I smiled, saying to myself that the poor little girl was suffering more from a bottom-ache than a headache. She did not come down at all that night, and I quite missed her as I sat by myself after dinner.

    However, at breakfast next morning, she turned up, bright and fresh, greeting me quite in her usual manner, without the least sign of either sulkiness or shyness. On my making a few tender inquiries, she informed me that her bottom was still a good deal marked, and though it was a little sore she could sit down in comfort. Then she took her seat, smiling at me as if to prove her words, and ate her breakfast with a hearty appetite. She was, without doubt, a high-spirited, loveable girl, and I longed to kiss her.

    A week passed without incident, and then I went to the seaside, leaving the girl at Oakhurst, very disconsolate, though she had not asked me to take her with me. No doubt she thought her secret would be more likely to be discovered if she left home.

    I was away a month, and during the whole time I received a letter from "Frank," every three days; she wrote long, chatty letters, and I always liked reading them, for they showed that the girl was cheerful and happy.

    I returned home in September, and by a curious coincidence, it happened to be the same day of the month, on which a year previously I had picked up "Master Francis."

    She had remembered the day, and after giving me a warm welcome in the hail, she followed me into the drawing-room, and, again taking my hand in hers, she told me how grateful she was for all my kindness; adding that she had been perfectly happy ever since she had come to Oakhurst; and she hoped I would let her remain with me. The girl had certainly always appeared to be happy; and moreover, I think she had got to be very fond of me, in spite of the smart bottoms I had given her – perhaps she was fond of me because I had given her smart bottoms.

    I settled down to the life I usually led at that period of the year; riding or shooting every day; going out to dinners or parties in the neighbourhood, and paying occasional visits to London.

    "Frank" still continued to keep her true sex concealed.



    Chapter Six coming soon

  2. #2

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    It's strange how some folks go about reading these offerings, chapter four has has over 3 times as many views as chapter three?

  3. #3
    Sex Goddess
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    Ah, for the "bad" old days, when writers took their time and were literate and erudite. Are those days gone forever? Do we live in a time where instant gratification is the norm, and if the writer doesn't have a sex scene on the very first page, then he or she is skipped and/or deleted? I refuse to believe it. I believe that readers are hungry for literate, well-written, erotic stories, that take their time. I believe quality will will out in the end, and these Victorian erotic tales will still be read long after most of the so-called erotic stories of the present have been swept into the dustbin of history.

  4. #4

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    The whole story FRANK AND I
    A study of flagellation in England by the author of "Dolly Morton".

    Paris

    Printed for distribution amongst private subscribers only.

    1902.


    can be read here:

    http://www.horntip.com/html/books_&_...C%29/index.htm

  5. #5

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    A most interesting Story...
    a Most old school story from about the Late 1800 to early 1900's and most intriguing... most excellent in development and Progression
    Just the Rantings of a Horny Old man hpy!

 

 

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