The Prussian Girls by P. N. Dedeaux Read Free Book Online Page B

pencil spurs of each boot into the opened armpit of the mistress lying beneath her, and getting an imperial view of her superior's breeched bottom.
    “Tell me when you're ready, Karl.”
    “Yes, yes. But I want her to come with me.”
    “She will.”
    Wedell began heaving.
    “It's… it's…” said the big man with a snarl, as if some wolf were at his throat. He thrust his hands on the woman's thighs, pressing them too into the spikes. “Gott in Himmel, but… I'm… going to hose her insides out!”
    The Directress made a slight kicking motion of her right boot. And Wedell squealed. The steel pencil-spur had a spring which released an inch-long needle that could penetrate even a Percheron's plump side. It drove in her armpit where it joined to her breast. And the second, the left… was…
    “Aaaaaahhh!”
    This time the Directress not only dug the spur home, but worked it there for the seconds of Karl von Schmettau's scalding spasm, into which the mistress' scream melded as he uttered a torrent of curses in losing hold and pumping squirts of gism over the heaving, panting body beneath them. This too, in incredible paradox, was spasming in the ecstasy of very agony. Then Wedell lay back on her bed of spikes, cunt foaming, while the two replenished their glasses. When she was let up, she curtseyed, said, “Thank you, Hoheit,” and resumed her white Duty dress. One armpit ran with blood and soon stained it gory. Her front was patched with sweat and the Count's scum and when she turned to leave, the couple could not resist a common laugh-little prickings of rosy red starred the tunic all over, especially at the bottom, despite the knickers.
    I seem to think,” said Elizabetha Grumkow when they were alone together again, “that one of my mistresses will be sleeping on her belly tonight.”
    “I should have buggered her,” he said morosely. “Then I wouldn't have lost it like that at the end. If I thought the clumsy fool threw me out a-purpose I'd have put her to the yard and flogged that fat ass off her. Cut her to pulp and peelings and rubbed in hot pepper and vinegar, after. It's all they understand.”
    “You're insatiable, Karl, aren't you.”
    “For you,” he said with sudden tenderness, “yes.”
    “You must admit she showed great fortitude. She took it well.”
    “Could you?”
    “Yes,” said Frau Grumkow after a moment, and a light of bliss entered her otherwise rather cold blue eyes. “Now then, do you think you could give it me again? A really long drawn-out rogering, Karl. Any way so long as it's deep. After that little spectacle, I happen to feel… rather warm.”
    “I'm sure I could,” he said. “But first I demand my rights. Remember your motto, my dear. Just to keep you in training, Beth.”
    “Oh all right,” she consented crossly, tossing him the whalebone switch. “But make it quick. I'm randy.”
    “For you I use the cane. The long one.”
    “You would.”
    “Come, my dear. You know 'tis twice as agreeable, after.”
    “If not exactly, during. How many, Your Highness?” she asked mockingly, her fingers once more fleeing over the buttons of her breeches.
    “Twelve,” he said darkly, looking at the sudden explosion of her snowy flesh. “At least, let's say…”
    “I know, I know,” she said, moving to the desk with her britches at her knees now, “thirteen… the celebrated butcher's.”
    “Exactly, Beth,” he said proudly. “This is going to hurt you so much more than it does me. But think of our Emperor… throughout.”
    The Directress pillowed her face, after first removing her monocle, and in a quick thrill of apprehension that sent expectant shivers down her thighs awaited the onslaught of the enemy. The dark tongue of her clitoris stuck like some engorged stamen through her lips.
     
    Maria Daunitz, meanwhile, had made her way back to her chamber as best she could. No maid had been waiting outside punishment room to accompany her, and all those still guarding