Sadopaideia Vol. II: Being the Experiences of Cecil Prendergast--A Victorian Erotic Classic
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Category: Erotica/Classic Erotica
Description: Final Volume in the Once-Banned Classic of Victorian B&D. It's no wonder so many Victorian and Edwardian British males grew up with a taste for being birched and doing the birching! Cecil Pendergast, a young undergraduate at Oxford, has embraced the art of domination over the adventurous young women his circle. What follows is an unforgettable saga of bondage an discipline as practiced by our ancestors.
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler Editions,
eBookwise Release Date: December 2007
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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [160 KB]
Reading time: 109-152 min.
CHAPTER I. AT THE SEASIDE
London was growing very hot. For once in a way England had a summer worthy of the name. But for Muriel, I should have fled from the heat and lack of air of Town long before. But the little house in South Molton Street offered far too great attractions to be deserted easily. However, one day when calling there, Muriel shewed me a letter and asked me what I thought of it. It ran as follows:
The wife and I want to go globe-trotting for about six months or a year and we're in a difficulty about the two kids. Of course they're safe at school most of the year, but the question of their holidays bothers us. Would you be an angel and take charge of them, at any rate for the summer six weeks? You'll find them rather a handful, I'm afraid. The discipline at their school is not so good as it was for you at Clifton, and Gladys thinks they are too old to be corrected as you were in the good old-fashioned way. But I daresay you will be able to manage them. Anyhow, if you will take them I give you carte blanche and will of course pay all bills. Do be a sweet sister and say they can come to you, and let us get out of England. They "break up" in a fortnight, so there's not much time.
Always your loving brother,
"What do you think of it?" said Muriel.
"Well, what were you going to do this summer?"
"I hardly know; of course, there are lots of people I could stay with, but these children sound rather alluring, don't you think so? Rather a handful-'carte blanche' for me I"
"They'll be damnably in the way. If they're about I can't very well be on the premises. How old are they?"
"About fifteen and twelve I fancy. But of course you'll be on the premises. You can be a younger brother of my husband's if you like, or anything. The thing to do is to find a nice quiet little place where we can take a cottage or bungalow, quite by itself, where we can do just as we like. I bar all English watering places."
"I know just the place you want, it's a tiny village called Croyde, in North Devon, just between Ilfracombe and Clovelly. I stayed at Woolacombe one summer-that's just round Baggy Point-and drove over to Croyde. It's perfectly beautiful. And there are two cottages right on the beach with no other house for quite two hundred yards."
"It certainly sounds lovely; but how can we get to know about the cottages, whether they are to let, and soon?"
"I'll run down and prospect."
"Do, there's a good boy, and I will write and tell George I'll take the children off his hands."
I went down to Woolacombe next day and found a house agent at Morthoe. By the greatest of good luck, the cottages had been thrown on his hands suddenly, and I was able to take them for two months. So a week later saw Muriel, Juliette, and me surrounded with luggage-the cases naturally were not forgotten-on Morthoe station waiting for the "jingle" and cart to take us and our belongings to Croyde.
We had decided to dispense with servants, the wife of the coast-guard was to come in, in the mornings, and cook breakfast and dinner, and the rest of the day we were to do for ourselves so as to have perfect freedom.
Muriel had written a "leading" letter to her brother about the management of her nieces, and his reply was quite explicit:
I give you absolute authority to manage both Gladys and Ethel as you think best. In your own case I know the strict discipline of Mrs. Walter was most advantageous. My wife had no such Spartan training and consequently suffers. But both the girls take after our family, I fancy, and will be all the better for a firm hand.
Muriel's eyes glistened as we read this letter together, and we looked forward to the girls' coming eagerly.
They arrived, the first week in August, having seen their parents off to Homburg on their way round the world.
Gladys was a plump fair girl of fifteen, just budding into womanhood. Her breasts were just beginning to swell and the rounded hips gave promise of a most voluptuous figure when fully developed. Ethel was a slight dark girl of twelve, straight and lissom, a regular tomboy, and quite a child. They both were very excited at the prospect of a holiday away from father and mother and kissed their aunt and Juliette most affectionately. Me they greeted quite frankly, though Gladys gave me what was suspiciously like "the glad eye."
"Now children," said Muriel, "we're going to have a splendid time, this is the land of Do-as-you-like, no lessons, no one else to consider, only enjoyment and fun-bathing, lazing, exploring, sailing all day long. Only one thing, we must be punctual at meals, and when bathing we must be careful not to go out too far."
"Can we bathe now Auntie?" said Ethel eagerly.
"Not to-night," said Muriel, "it's too late, but to-morrow morning early we'll all bathe before breakfast."
Ethel looked glum. "Oh, I want to bathe now."
"No, wait till to-morrow, dear."
Gladys gave her sister a glance. "Mother would let me bathe now," insisted Ethel. "I want to bathe now."
"Ethel dear, you must do as you are told; don't make me angry with you the first evening. Come, let's play Coon-Can."
"I want to bathe now."
"Shut up, Ethel, don't be silly," said Gladys. But Ethel still looked sulky.
"Ethel," said Muriel, "we'd better understand each other straight away; you must do as I tell you, or we shall quarrel. Your father has put me in charge of you and given me complete control of you. Now we can be quite happy all of us together if you are obedient-you won't find me strict in all reasonable things-but you must obey me, otherwise I'm afraid you will have to be treated like a naughty child and punished, and we don't want punishments on a holiday."
Though her tone was as soft as honey, there was a gleam of expectancy in her eyes as she glanced at me that boded ill for Miss Ethel in the future.
The latter said no more at the time, and we played cards until we went to bed.
Next morning, I woke early and, putting on my bathing suit, called out to the others. Before long they appeared in mackintoshes and ran down the beach to me in the surf. Muriel and Juliette's figures I knew well. Gladys looked a perfect picture. Her dress revealed every graceful line of her slim young body, and though, as I realised by a quick glance she gave my person, she evidently was not altogether ignorant of the difference of sex, there was still a fresh innocence about her carriage that was more than disquieting to me, clad as I was in a tight varsity costume. Ethel on the other hand simply revelled in her freedom from petticoats. There was no sign yet of any breasts, but her legs were beautifully shaped and her plump little bottom filled her bathing suit admirably.
"Oh Auntie!" she said. "I do wish I could wear my bathing suit all day, it's so much nicer than those horrid petticoats." Muriel laughed.
"For shame," said Gladys, looking self-consciously at me.
"Do let me, Auntie."
"Well, perhaps, during the morning on the beach, if no one else is about."
We romped and swam about in the surf-there is not much chance of real swimming on the North Devon coast-until at last, just before we were going out, a big wave caught Gladys unexpectedly, and bowled her right over. Her legs went right up in the air wide apart. The stockinette was semi-transparent now it was soaked through, and I caught a glimpse of all her secret charms, half-concealed, half-revealed by the clinging material. More than that, her struggles underwater, to regain her feet against the undertow, burst the top button of the costume and she appeared with it open nearly to her waist. "Oh, look at Gladys, shewing her titties," shouted Ethel in high glee. Gladys covered in confusion, with a quick glance at me, ran to the mackintoshes, slipped one on, and flew to the cottage. But she was not quick enough to escape my keen and watchful eye. The bathing dress gaped wide open and, as her sister said, shewed both her budding little breasts firm and plump and round.
In spite of the chill of the water, the blood raced through my veins and I felt my costume growing tighter and tighter as John Thomas asserted his presence in a quite unmistakable manner. Muriel turned to Ethel, "What did you say?"
"Gladys was shewing all her titties I" laughed the child.
"How dare you say such a thing, you rude little girl!" And before Ethel knew what was happening Muriel had seized her under one arm and, turning her behind up, gave her several sounding slaps on the tight little bottom.
"Don't you dare say such a thing again." Ethel was more surprised than hurt, but she was evidently very angry at the ignominious treatment. She wriggled away and darted a vindictive glance at Muriel and ran up the beach shouting out, "Gladys shewed her titties."
I looked at Muriel. "This must be settled," she said to me. "Juliette, bring Ethel to me when she is dressed. You had better keep out of the way for a bit as it's the first time."
I didn't like this, you may be sure, but thought it wiser to comply, so, went to my room, shaved and dressed leisurely. As I was brushing my hair I heard Muriel's voice lecturing Ethel. I could not quite catch the words, but I heard Ethel say, "What! Whip me! I've never been whipped in my life! You shan't, I tell you. You shan't." There were the sounds of a struggle and then, "You shan't take my drawers down. Gladys, help, help-oh!" This last exclamation was preceded by the sound of a smack. From the sound I guessed Muriel was using the back of a hairbrush. The smacks went on, so did the cries-angry at first, but soon the note of pain crept in and at last real sobs took their place. Oh, how I longed to be there! I pictured to myself the round little bottom growing pinker and pinker under the blows. I saw in my imagination the little cheeks contract and loosen as the brush fell upon them--the ineffectual struggles-the plunging and heaving of the small body. The cries and sobs kept time with the crisp smacks which fell quicker and even quicker as Muriel warmed to her work. I heard Muriel's voice raised above Ethel's sobs. "I'll teach you to talk before gentlemen about your sister's titties! How dare you, you saucy little minx! Will you ever be rude again? Will you? Will you? Will you?"
By this time Gladys had evidently come down, for I heard her voice, "Oh Auntie!" The whipping finished now; evidently Muriel was beginning gradually. "Ethel was very rude just now about you, before Mr. Prendergast, and I had to punish her."
"Yes, I know, I heard her; but isn't she rather big for a whipping? Mother never has whipped us.
"So I learn from your father. So much the worse. But don't you make any mistake, I was whipped till I was eighteen or nineteen at school. So you see, even you are not too old if you deserve it."