Portrait of a Disciplinarian (21 page)

‘Now open your drawers,’ Myrtle ordered.

Pouting more furiously than ever, Stephanie obeyed, knowing perfectly well what Myrtle would see.

‘You’ve been caned!’ Myrtle announced in delight. ‘Five strokes, and quite hard by the look of them. Why were you punished, and who by?’

‘My Great-aunt Victoria,’ Stephanie admitted, ‘for pranging my two-seater.’

‘You never could drive,’ Myrtle said.

‘I drive better than you,’ Stephanie retorted, only for her voice to turn to a squeak as a hard smack was applied to the seat of her shorts, breaking both eggs against the turn of her bottom and squashing the contents up between her cheeks and down her thighs.

‘Speak when you’re spoken to,’ Myrtle instructed, ‘and don’t be impertinent. Now let’s see how many eggs will fit down your fancy drawers.’

Stephanie hung her head and surrendered to her degradation, with the back of her drawers and shorts held as wide as they would go. Myrtle began to drop the eggs in, the warm, round shapes pressing between Stephanie’s bottom cheeks and quickly bulging out the seat of her drawers.

‘These are much more fun than splitters,’ Myrtle announced after a while. ‘I wish you’d had them at Teigngrace, then I could have loaded them up and paraded you about so that everybody would think you’d gone to the loo in your drawers. Wouldn’t that have been funny?’

‘No,’ Stephanie answered sullenly.

Myrtle merely laughed and dropped another egg down the back of Stephanie’s still open drawers. It came to rest on top of the others, not touching her flesh at all but adding to the weight, which had grown so great that she’d had to take a tighter grip on the waistbands of shorts and drawers.

‘You can let go now,’ Myrtle said.

Stephanie relinquished her grip. Both her shorts and the drawers beneath immediately sagged so low that the top of her bottom slit showed, while the eggs made a huge bulge in the seat of her shorts, sticking well out and also hanging down, just as if she had soiled herself, but with an impossible quantity of dirt.

‘You have no idea how comic you look, Stiffy! I wish I had my camera with me.’

Myrtle began to walk up and down, admiring the huge bulge in the seat of Stephanie’s shorts and smiling
to
herself, then dipped once more into her bag of eggs, drawing one out.

‘Three left,’ she said. ‘Let me see … yes, face, titties and quim.’

‘Not in me!’ Stephanie blurted out in alarm.

‘Tut, tut, Stiffy,’ Myrtle answered, wagging a finger. ‘I said not to talk, but don’t worry, I’m not going to ruin your precious virginity. I’m not that cruel. Now open your mouth, wide.’

Stephanie did as she was told, allowing an egg to be inserted in her mouth, with part of it still sticking out. The sight set Myrtle laughing again, until suddenly she gave Stephanie a hard, open-handed slap across the face, bursting the egg and releasing a great gush of mess. Most of it went down Stephanie’s cleavage, but a fair bit stayed in her mouth and some hung from her chin like a slimy yellow goatee, flecked with bits of shell. Myrtle gave a light chuckle, then reached out to scoop up the egg hanging from Stephanie’s chin and plaster it over her face, leaving only her eyes unsoiled.

‘Lift up your top, Stiffy,’ Myrtle commanded. ‘That’s a good girl. No chemise or brassiere? You always were a little show-off, weren’t you?’

Obeying without thinking twice, Stephanie lifted her shirt, exposing her pert, high breasts to Myrtle’s amused gaze. Another egg was removed from the bag, squashed firmly into Stephanie’s already slimy cleavage and rubbed well in over both breasts, bringing her nipples to erection and leaving her skin slippery and foul.

‘Quim,’ Myrtle said, holding up the final egg for Stephanie’s inspection. ‘I do hope it’s a rotten one, a lot of them were.’

‘Beast,’ Stephanie answered, but stayed as she was, her shirt still held high, her legs a little apart to prevent the weight of eggs in her drawers from pulling them down along with her shorts. ‘And … and please say cunt, not quim.’

‘Cunt?’ Myrtle echoed. ‘What a perfectly horrid word,
but
yes, why not? It suits you. All right, I shall squash the egg on your cunt.’

A whimper escaped Stephanie’s mouth as Myrtle stepped close, holding up the egg. It was touched to her mouth, hard and round against her lips, and lower, between her breasts, and over her belly, to where the waistband of her shorts was stretched over her navel. She closed her eyes as Myrtle’s hand burrowed in, the egg now cupped against Stephanie’s flesh, on her lower belly, down to the gusset of her drawers, then in up one leg hole to press upon the swollen, slippery flesh of her quim.

‘You’re sopping, as usual,’ Myrtle told her, and began to rub the egg between the lips of Stephanie’s quim.

‘Please, like that …’ Stephanie sobbed, ‘make me …’

‘I shall,’ Myrtle told her, ‘but not until I’ve had my fun with you. Now hold still. Why do you always have to wriggle so much?’

The egg was now pressed firmly to her quim, and Stephanie’s answer was another whimper, but she tried to resist the urge to rub herself on the hard surface, not in order to rescue her ruined dignity but because she had been told not to. Myrtle continued to rub, then suddenly let the egg slip lower, pressing it to the mouth of Stephanie’s virgin hole.

‘I wonder,’ she said softly, her lips just an inch from Stephanie’s. ‘Which would break first, the egg or your maidenhead?’

‘No, please, Myrtle,’ Stephanie begged, but she lacked the willpower to try and pull away.

‘I said I wouldn’t, didn’t I?’ Myrtle assured her, rolling the egg up the groove of Stephanie’s sex. ‘And so …’

Stephanie cried out as the egg was abruptly crushed against her quim, bursting to spatter her flesh with slippery mess and bits of shell. Then her cry broke off as Myrtle’s mouth found hers. She surrendered immediately, unable to resist the kiss even though it brought
hotter
shame than all the rest of the indignities she had been forced to endure. Myrtle was rubbing her and, as their tongues entwined, she thought she was going to be brought off. But then her tormentor suddenly jumped back.

‘Not yet, Stiffy,’ said Myrtle with a laugh. ‘I haven’t finished with you, not by a long way. All right, you can sit down.’

‘Must I?’ Stephanie asked.

‘Yes.’

Stephanie made a face but obeyed, lowering herself gingerly on to a rock. She felt the eggs in her shorts touch the hard granite and press out to the sides, then, as her weight settled, one broke, and another. She gave in, setting her full weight upon the rock, her expression one of disgust as more eggs broke, smearing her bottom with mess and squashing up over her already filthy quim. Some had gone up between her bottom cheeks, squeezing out at the back, while bits soon began to fall out of her leg holes, to land on the ground with thick, wet plops. Myrtle was grinning with delight, and waited for a while before giving her next instruction.

‘Stand up again. Let me see.’

Rising, Stephanie turned to show off her bottom, first sideways and then with it stuck out. Quite a lot of egg was on the ground or running down her thighs, but her drawers still felt heavy, and they and her shorts had pulled down further, leaving the upper half of her bottom slit showing.

‘Disgusting!’ Myrtle said happily. ‘But your bulge is rather too saggy now. I preferred it when it stuck out.’

‘You shouldn’t have made me break the eggs, then,’ Stephanie said.

‘Perhaps not,’ Myrtle admitted. ‘Oh, well, there’ll be another time. I’ll feed you until your stomach is about to burst, then make you do it properly and take photographs of you with your drawers full of your dirt, which I’ll send to all your friends and your bumptious
little
sister. She’s quite the little brat now, isn’t she? I don’t suppose you’ve told her what you’re really like?’

‘No,’ Stephanie confessed.

‘Maybe I’ll tell her myself,’ Myrtle suggested, ‘in a letter, along with the photograph, or I don’t suppose she’d believe her precious big sister could be reduced to being my plaything. How would you like –’

She broke off, laughing, as a larger mass of broken egg detached itself from the mess in Stephanie’s shorts and fell to the ground with a squelch.

‘Please don’t,’ Stephanie begged.

‘I’ll do as I please,’ Myrtle responded, ‘but if you’re a very, very good girl I might just let you off. Lie down on your back and keep that shirt up.’

Stephanie got down, sitting in the puddle of mess at her feet and lying back against a low bank of grass and moss. Her shirt had slipped down a little and she lifted it back, displaying her egg-stained breasts once more. She had guessed what was coming, and found herself unable to close her mouth, her jaw was trembling so much. Myrtle, after a quick glance to make sure they were truly alone, hoisted up her bright yellow dress. Beneath it she had on tight, frilly drawers and one of the new bras in a matching style, cut to flatten her breasts. She took both off, to stand naked but for her shoes, stockings and the yellow hat that went with her dress. Stephanie swallowed, her eyes fixed on to the low, furry mound between Myrtle’s thighs.

‘You first,’ Myrtle said, her voice now thick with desire. ‘In your drawers, but you’re to let me see too.’

‘All right,’ Stephanie answered, and her legs parted, displaying the bulging, egg-soaked crotch of her shorts. Their legs were so loose that she could pull one aside, exposing the gusset of her ruined drawers to Myrtle’s excited gaze. Her bladder was already tense, full from the coffee and milk she’d drunk at breakfast, but it still took an effort to let go. A low moan escaped her lips as she did, a little fountain of pee erupting into her drawers
and
quickly soaking through, to dribble down into the slimy mess between her cheeks and the rock beneath. She pushed, letting it squirt out, and abruptly jerked her drawers aside, showing off her filthy quim to Myrtle as the pee gushed freely, rising in a high yellow arc that spattered down into the pool.

She sobbed as she wet herself, her legs cocked as wide as they would go and her virgin cunt flaunted to her tormentor, who watched with eager fascination as the pee continued to gush out and spread into a broad, dark stain on the rock beneath Stephanie’s bottom. Twice she closed her gusset while her pee was still flowing, deliberately soiling herself, and again when her stream finally died, to let the last of it trickle down into the bulging mess within her drawers. Arching her back, she began to play with her quim and breasts, her head turned to the side and her eyes shut as her pleasure rose, too far gone to even feel ashamed of herself as she began to masturbate.

‘My turn,’ Myrtle said. ‘Look at me, Stiffy.’

Stephanie turned her head once more, her eyes wide as Myrtle stepped close. She was shaking so badly she could barely control the movement of her fingers over her filthy nipples and egg-smeared cunt.

‘That’s my girl,’ Myrtle sighed as she straddled her and pushed out her belly. ‘Open wide, Stiffy, and I’ll do it in your mouth, the way you like it … here you are.’

Mouth as wide as it would go, one hand busy with her cunt and the other with a nipple, Stephanie leant up, offering herself as a receptacle for Myrtle’s urine. It came, a golden spurt that splashed in Stephanie’s face and ran down her neck, then more, full in her mouth, to bubble from the sides and run down her breasts.

‘Drink it,’ Myrtle gasped, ‘drink it all up, Stiffy. Oh, I’ve missed this so much.’

Stephanie swallowed even as Myrtle spoke, deliberately filling her stomach with the hot, pungent urine, but letting the next mouthful spill out over her lower lip, not
to
waste it but to catch it in her hand and wet her breasts. More came, now a thick stream, and Stephanie closed her eyes and leant closer still, letting Myrtle’s pee wash over her face. Again her mouth opened wide and again she swallowed what she was given, masturbating furiously as she was pissed on, her fingers working in the slime of her cunt as the orgasm began to rise in her head.

Myrtle moaned, pressing her sex to Stephanie’s lips with the pee still coming. She was forced to swallow and it broke the rhythm of her masturbation, but she began to lick, with the piddle splashing in her face as her tongue worked among the folds of Myrtle’s quim. At last the stream of pee began to die, allowing Stephanie to swallow a final mouthful and use her tongue properly, while her fingers once more found the right rhythm between her own slippery cunt lips. Myrtle pressed forward, her quim pushing hard against Stephanie’s mouth, her gasps growing louder as they started to come, together. Her thighs squeezed in Stephanie’s face, fresh fluid erupted from her pee-hole, and as she came she was begging to be licked harder and telling the girl she’d just degraded how much she loved her.

Seven

‘
SHE WAS ABSOLUTELY
horrible to me,’ Stephanie declared. ‘Look what she did!’

As she spoke she pulled up her dress, exposing her bare bottom. Hermione gave a low gasp and put her hand to her mouth.

‘She put a load of eggs down my drawers and made me sit on them,’ Stephanie explained, ‘and other things. I hate her!’

She craned back to inspect her rear cheeks, not for the first time. They were covered in tiny red scratches from the eggshell, standing out from a more general pink but blending in with the harsh cane welts.

‘Your poor bottom,’ Hermione sighed. ‘And she spanked you too?’

‘No,’ Stephanie answered with rising feeling as she let her dress drop. ‘That was Aunt Lavinia and Aunt Edith. By the time Myrtle had finished with me I was utterly filthy, and she didn’t help at all but just walked off. I had to wash, and that meant stripping off completely and going in the pool. It took ages to get all the egg out of my hair, never mind my clothes, and of course they were soaking wet afterwards, and you know how long these shorts take to dry. What was I supposed to do except lay everything out to dry?’

‘Yes, but you couldn’t tell the aunts what had really happened,’ Hermione pointed out.

‘Of course not,’ Stephanie agreed, ‘that would only have made it worse. Not that it could have been much
worse
. I didn’t think they’d be looking for me, and I was getting bored just sitting there, so … so I decided to diddle myself, and I was just getting started when who should turn up but the aunts! They spanked me so hard, turn and turn about, with me over one’s lap while the other rested her hand. I lost count of how many times they swapped me over!’