The Education of Victoria (8 page)

‘The camera was positioned much more closely so that I imagined that my form filled my uncle’s view. He clicked away using plate after plate as he moved the bed around in a circle capturing me at all angles. He told me to part my legs, lift my knees, throw back my head. Then he paused. The camera was between my feet, the glass eye peering right up my private parts.

‘“Oh, such beauty,” Uncle Pierre moaned from beneath his hood, “an exquisite flower, the lips resemble the petals of an orchid, the colour of a red, red rose. But surely we can get closer, the flower can open up. Natalie, darling, please pull your knees up and apart. Use your hands.” I brought my knees up to my ears and my bottom lifted from the fur coverings. I could feel my fanny opening revealing my secret hole.

‘“Yes, yes,” Uncle sighed, “but still, more can be done.” He emerged from behind the camera and approached the divan. He knelt on the floor and leant his head forward. From behind my raised legs I could see his face just half a metre from my pubis.

‘“I want you swollen with excitement, oozing with pleasure. In your innocence you will be unfamiliar with this state, but I can bring you to it.” He moved closer and now I could feel his breath on the inside of my thighs. The bristles on his chin briefly abraded my skin and then his lips made contact with mine and his tongue pushed into my crack. I think I jumped as if I had been struck by an electric spark but when I relaxed his mouth was there again. His tongue explored the folds of my labia; his lips gripped the rapidly swelling flaps then his tongue delved deep into my hole. Now it was my turn to moan, shivers passed up my legs and I struggled to keep hold of my knees to keep my legs apart for him.

‘His tongue slid up and found my little knob. It circled around and then his lips gripped it and sucked. Now his tongue descended again into the depths of my vulva and his nose rubbed against my clit. He gripped my buttocks and pressed against me, rubbing his face against me and digging deeper and deeper inside me with his tongue. And now the shivers became great shudders as the orgasm took me.

‘At my moment of ecstasy he was gone. There was an emptiness between my legs. But still the waves of pleasure passed through me. Somewhere in the distance I heard my uncle’s voice.

‘“Yes, yes, yes. Now the flesh is swollen and the juices flow. Stay still my dear, mon amour.” As my ardour subsided I remained grasping my knees and became aware of my uncle whirling like a Dervish. He grabbed a glass plate, thrust it into the wooden box, clicked the shutter, then whipped the plate out and repeated the movement. I cannot tell how many plates he exposed as I lost count. Finally, however, he finished.

‘“Thank you, my darling,” he sighed, panting with his exertion. By this time, as I had recovered somewhat, I was determined that I should give Uncle a little of his own treatment by return. I rose from the divan as he was busy sealing the last plate into its protective box. I knelt at his feet.

‘“I think, Uncle, that you must need some relief from your labour,” I said and raised my hand to touch him between his legs. I could feel his member swollen and hot.

‘“What do you mean?” he muttered as I began to undo his buttons. In a moment I had his penis in my hands and he was looking down at me with a look of such amazement on his face. I gripped his shaft in my hand. It was hard and as I pulled back the foreskin his purply red knob appeared. I gripped his testicles in my other hand and squeezed gently, then I lowered my head until my lips met the end of the tip.

‘“Oh, Natalie,” he groaned and swayed from side to side. I held his cock and balls firmly in my hands and started to lick his knob. Then, as we have been taught, I encircled it with my lips and began to suck while massaging the shaft. At that moment the urge came upon Uncle Pierre. He grasped my head with his hands and began to thrust his pelvis forcing his penis further into my mouth. I held onto the shaft tightly and now the battle between us was joined. I sucked and rubbed the bottom of his knob with my tongue while he tried to force it down my throat with thrust after thrust. I held on but my arms were tiring and my jaws were aching when he cried out and a gush of semen poured down my throat. He wilted like a plant that has gone without water. As he sank to the floor I released him and ran to pick up my clothes. As I left the studio he was slumped on the floor.

At dinner that evening, Uncle Pierre sat at the other end of the table from me and was quiet.

‘“No photograph for me this evening, Uncle?” He looked at me uncertainly but said nothing. “That is a shame,” I continued, “for I would like to see all the pictures you have taken of me.”

‘“All?” he whispered.

‘“Yes, every one.” He put down his knife and fork.

‘“You little devil,” he grinned, “and there was me thinking you were the naïve little girl. Come with me. Now.” He stood up, came to me, took my hand, then almost dragged me from the room and up the stairs to his darkroom. There, hanging from lines stretched across the room like washing in a laundry, were prints of his pictures. He put on a light and I saw image after image of me. There were the chaste pictures that he had already given me but they were but a few amongst many. My breasts, bottom and fanny featured in the rest. To see so many views of myself made me laugh.

‘“Why, Uncle? Do these pictures make your cock swell? Does looking at such images help you in your handiwork?” He nodded.

‘“But there are so many? Surely you do not need so many pictures to pleasure yourself.” He did not say anything but put the light out and led me back to the dinner table.

Next day I did not see my uncle. I was not required in the studio. Instead I relaxed in the library. I became aware that there seemed to be an extraordinary number of callers. The doorbell would ring, a servant would answer the door, someone would enter and a short while later they would leave. After the fifth or sixth visitor had been and gone in the space of two hours or so I became curious. When the bell rang again I opened the library door a crack and peeped out. The visitor was a man wrapped up in a cloak. The maid conducted him not to the drawing room but up the stairs. I followed at a discreet distance and saw that the gentleman was shown into my uncle’s darkroom. I hid behind a pillar and waited. A few minutes later the man emerged with a package wrapped in brown paper which he tucked under his cloak before going down the stairs and out the front door. I waited and a short while later another man wrapped up in a greatcoat was shown up the stairs, entered Uncle’s room then emerged with a package. I needed no more evidence to prove to myself that Uncle was giving these men pictures of me. Soon my fanny would be seen all over Paris. I was both annoyed and excited. I burst through the door into the dimly lit room. Uncle was folding brown paper over a pile of photographs.

‘“Is that for your next customer?” I asked in as angry a voice as I could muster. Uncle had not seen me enter and was taken by surprise.

‘“What? Oh, Natalie. I thought you were in the library,” he blustered.

‘“No, I’m here watching you sell my body. How dare you, Uncle Pierre, dishonour me in this way.”

‘“Oh, Natalie. In no way do I do you dishonour. To the men who look at my photographs you are an anonymous model with a matchless beauty. My friends, because that is what they are, are great admirers of the female form and merely provide recompense for my efforts and my supplies of chemicals and paper.”

‘“I seem to recall that it was me that made the effort, Uncle, spending all that time posing and doing other things.” I stepped close to him and ran my hand down the front of his trousers. I felt a swelling. “Don’t you think I should have a share of this compensation you refer to?” Uncle gave me a look then that showed that he understood that I was not really angry but keen to share in his good fortune.

‘“You are correct, Natalie, and I had not forgotten you. You shall share in the proceeds of our little endeavour.”

‘So that is how I have all this money.’ Natalie got out of bed and from her trunk took a cotton bag from which she scooped banknotes and coins. ‘And next time I go home Uncle is going to suggest another series of pictures of great women.’ She giggled.

‘Oh, Natalie, you are so wicked. Do you think your uncle was really going to pay you for posing?’

‘I don’t know, but I think he is now expecting special service whenever we are alone together.’

Chapter 8
Victoria’s Lesson in Intercourse

‘Good evening, girls. Tonight we come to a most important lesson in the arts of pleasure.’ I sat on the edge of my chair, my classmates alongside me equally agog to hear what Madame had to say. Already the crotch of my bloomers was damp with my excitement and anticipation. It had been over a month since the six of us had sat in our white corsets, knickers and stockings waiting to see what Madame would teach us. She stood before us in a long grey dress buttoned up to the neck, her blonde hair like a lantern bestowing its radiance upon us. Despite my state of partial undress I was not chilled because a log fire roared and crackled in the hearth, banishing the alpine winter and adding its glow to that of the candelabrum that hung over the divan occupying the centre of the floor.

I listened intently to what Madame had to say.

‘Last term you took your first steps on the road to discovery of your own bodies and of those of the male sex. You learned how to use your hands, your mouths, indeed in some cases,’ Madame glanced at me, ‘your whole bodies to entice and excite a man. This term your assignment will be to investigate the act of union between man and woman; intercourse, coitus, the penetration of the female organs by the male member.’ I felt Natalie, by my side, shiver with pent-up eagerness. I too felt the same emotion and yet I surprised myself. Just four months ago I knew nothing about love, very little indeed about my needs and aptitudes. Now I longed for a man’s hands on my breasts and buttocks, his cock in my mouth and his tongue on my clitoris. Yet despite all the practice I and the other girls had had in the skills of lovemaking we, or I at least, remained virgins. While my vagina had been penetrated by fingers, tongues, glass dildos and an immense phallus belonging to Madame herself, no penis had yet made an entry to my love canal. I did at least understand the purpose of intercourse. A couple of years ago my father arranged for me to have a tutor. He was a dull man of about thirty years who only seemed to come alive when discussing the natural world. Fish, frogs, birds, mammals, he knew everything there was to know about their life history including how they procreated. A bull inseminating a cow had been just one episode in my education. Thus I was able to follow Madame’s next words.

‘But first, girls, a warning. Intercourse is not without its dangers, not least the chance of becoming with child. An infant at your breast is the last thing that you need if you are to achieve your destiny and meet a gentleman of substance, at least until you have married the said gentleman. You must take precautions. Do not allow a man to ejaculate inside you without checking the date. The day to watch is a fortnight, fourteen days, after the commencement of your curse, your menstrual period. It is best to avoid coitus a few days before and a week after that day. That is unless you employ a barrier to the semen.’ I had little idea what Madame was talking about, never having considered the possibility of having a child or preventing the same.

Madame moved to an occasional table at the side of the drawing room and opened a small valise. She lifted out a limp object and carried it back to us. She held it up and we stared at it in wonder. It resembled a child’s sock but was apparently manufactured from very thin, soft leather such as is used for the finest gloves.

‘This,’ Madame continued, holding the object between her forefinger and thumb, ‘is a sheath for the penis.’ All six of us gasped with surprise. A glove for a cock!

‘When rolled on to the male member it provides a barrier and a receptacle for his ejaculate. This one is made of the finest pigskin, but I have others manufactured from cowhide and fish skin.’ While speaking she had returned to the case and picked out more of the tubular artefacts. She passed them to the girl at the end of the row and we took turns to examine each one. I could see the benefit of the sheath but I wondered how I would ever be able to get it onto Albert’s immense tool. His length and girth dwarfed the finger-like sock.

‘They are of course available in different sizes to suit the male but I do confess that they numb the feeling that the man has within the vagina and reduce the enjoyment. Nevertheless they serve a purpose, but now I must show you a new invention sent to me by an acquaintance in the United States of America.’ Madame returned once more to the small table and this time returned with a very different object. It was a pale beige colour and was considerably smaller than the other sheaths, but when Madame stood in front of us she held it in her two hands and stretched it. Its length doubled instantly and it became almost transparent when fully extended.

‘This is a latex sheath that will expand to fit any cock and is so thin that it almost cannot be felt by the wearer and yet it will prevent the transfer of the sperm. I am quite sure that this will become a great boon to pleasure, but alas they are in short supply at the moment.’ She returned the sheaths to the case and took out a small bottle.

‘This is another recourse if you fear the possibility of pregnancy. It is a tincture concocted by Madame Hulot from ancient recipes. When soaked into a piece of sponge and inserted in your vagina it will destroy sperm and prevent conception. See Madame Hulot to collect your supply.’ We each turned to our neighbours to express our amazement that such medicines existed. Madame placed the bottle back in the case and stood once again in front of us.

‘Now girls, that is enough of the preparations. Let us get to the purpose of this lesson.’ She clapped her hands. The door opened and Eric entered wearing a loose gown. He stood facing us, a look of eager anticipation on his strong, smooth face.

‘We have our male so who shall be our seductress?’ She looked along our line, a frown creasing her brow. ‘Olivia, I think it shall be you.’ The dark, Italian girl at the other end of the row sat up abruptly and an appearance of shock passed over her face. She remained sitting. ‘Come on, girl,’ Madame urged, ‘let us set to it.’

Olivia stood and walked slowly to the fur-covered divan. As she approached, Eric threw off his gown and stood naked, displaying his eagerness for the fray. Olivia seemed to regard his tool with distrust but slipped her bloomers down over her ample but smooth bottom. She dropped the silk garment on the floor and sat on the bed then lay back on the pillow and opened her legs. I heard a ‘tut’ from Madame who was now standing close to me at the end of our row of chairs. Eric seemed a little surprised but moved forward. He crawled between Olivia’s legs and lowered his tool to her gateway. He thrust forward.

‘Ow!’ Olivia shouted. Eric tried again and again Olivia cried out in pain and pushed him away. Madame clapped her hands and strode forward.

‘Stop this at once.’ Eric slid backwards and stood at the end of the couch with a look of sorrow on his face. ‘Really, Olivia, what do you think you are doing? Have you learnt nothing? Where was the preparation, the foreplay? You must build up the excitement in the male and also see that you are ready. Why could he not make an entry? Have you not carried out the exercises with the glass phallus that I loaned to you?’

Olivia sat on the edge of the bed, her head lowered. ‘No, Madame. I was afraid that I would bleed, Madame.’

‘What nonsense. You have ignored all my entreaties and now you are unprepared for the most important act of lovemaking. At the end of this evening, you will be punished for your failure. Now sit back in your place and watch and learn.’ Olivia trudged back to her seat afraid to look any of us in the eye. ‘Victoria, you show us how it should be done.’ My stomach turned over at the mention of my name and I realised that I could not afford to get the lesson wrong. My buttocks retained a memory of Madame’s punishments.

I stood up and walked slowly towards Eric, rolling my hips as I moved. Eric looked at me, a small smile appearing on his lips. His penis had subsided and withdrawn into the fair curls of his pubic hair. I knelt before him and took his testicles in my hand. As I lifted them I bent my head forward and kissed the poor shrunken member. Shrunken no longer. The lighest touch of my lips caused it to stir and grow. As the tip began to emerge I licked it. It quivered and it swelled and expanded some more. Eric reached down and with both hands under my shoulders pulled me up onto my feet. He spun me around and expertly undid the laces of my corset. It dropped to my feet, quickly followed by my knickers and stockings. Then he lifted me up and carried me the few short steps to the bed. He laid me down gently amongst the firs and knelt between my thighs. His hair tickled the smooth skin of my groin but then there was the electric touch of his tongue on my clitoris. My juices were flowing and I guessed that there would be little problem of friction. Having been pierced by Madame’s ebony tool I knew I had the capacity to accept Eric’s manhood and now I wanted him inside me. I touched his head and he stopped lapping at my cunt and looked up at me. He slithered up my body, planting a kiss in my navel and pausing to suck both my nipples. At last I felt his penis pressing against my lips. He gave a small thrust with his pelvis and the knob slipped between the folds of my skin, opened the portal and slid in. It was a most marvellous feeling to have that warm, soft-skinned but steel-stiff ramrod poking me. Eric pushed in as far as he was able until I felt his balls against my buttocks. For a moment he rested and I relished the sensation of being penetrated. Eric’s tool was certainly not small but inside me it felt immense, filling every space in my body. While Eric lay still his penis did not. It throbbed and pulsed, each movement bringing me delight. Instinctively I tried to grasp his cock with my vagina. Although wholly without practice I evidently succeeded because I heard a small groan of pleasure in my ear. Then Eric did begin to move. He retreated, the fox withdrawing from its hole. For a moment I felt a great sadness as I was left vacant, but then my joy was redoubled as he thrust in, the glorious cock filling me once again and tugging on my sensitive button. Now Eric got into a rhythm and I responded in time. On each of his thrusts I shoved my hips up to meet him, forcing his penis deeper into my womb, his testicles slapping against my perineum. He grunted on each lunge and his body gave off such a heat that I had not felt before. I clung on to him and met his every move, urging him on, crying out at every drive. And on and on he went, until I was almost insensible with pleasure. When I thought nothing could be better than this, the wave of orgasm began to spread out from my clitoris. engulfing my womb and rising up through my body until my head was ringing with the chimes of my climax. Within me Eric’s tool swelled and gushed, his semen flooding into my channel. He continued to thrust in and out, slowly subsiding until with a long drawn-out gasp he sank on top of me. I think I did pass out for a few moments because when I again became aware of myself and my surroundings, Eric had taken his weight off me and was kneeling over me. And there was clapping and hooting from my classmates and as I turned my head to look at them, there too was Madame Thackeray applauding politely and smiling broadly. She came towards me as Eric retreated and sat on the edge of the bed. Madame took my hand and helped me to my feet. Naked as I was I did not feel ashamed to be standing in front of the class.

‘Well done, Victoria. That was an excellent demonstration of coitus in the first of many and various positions. Thank you Eric for demonstrating your skills so well.’ Eric looked up and grinned at Madame and me then picked up his gown and left. ‘Over the next months you will learn the different orientations that may be used and also discover how to prolong the exercise or bring it to a swift conclusion. Now you may return to your rooms. Olivia, with me please.’ The forlorn girl followed Madame out of the room while the other four clustered around me with eager questions.

‘What did it feel like?’

‘Could you feel him right inside?’

‘Did it hurt?’

‘Did you feel him come?’

I answered as best I could – wonderful, yes, no, yes – and bent to retrieve my discarded clothes. Finally, Natalie and I escaped and ran to the room I shared with Beatrice. I sat on the bed still quite breathless.

‘Oh, la, la. You were most marvellous, Victoria.’ Natalie hugged me and planted little pecks of kisses on my neck and cheeks. ‘I cannot wait till it is my turn. I too want to ride a cock.’ We lay on the bed and cuddled each other until I began to drift off to sleep.

The next day I could hardly concentrate on the more mundane tasks of French cuisine and household finance and longed for the evening lessons when perhaps I would again feel a penis between my legs. After supper I returned to our room to change out of my day uniform. As I entered the room my heart leapt with delight for on the bed instead of the accustomed outfit in white satin was a crimson version. I rushed to pick up the smooth satin basque and clasped it to my bosom. Beatrice emerged from the bathroom, clad in her black underwear.

‘I see you have graduated to the second level,’ she said smiling warmly. ‘Let me help you dress.’ I quickly discarded the boring skirt, petticoats and blouse of my day attire and donned the blood-red garment. Beatrice tugged on the cords, lacing me tightly and pulling in my waist until I gasped. My pink breasts were uplifted and rested on their whale-boned platform, my nipples matching the colour.

‘So who did you have for your first fuck?’ Bea asked as I pulled on the red stockings. I was a little shocked by her use of the rough peasant word but I reflected that it was apt for the animal-like performance that I had engaged in.

‘It was Eric,’ I replied.

‘Ah, yes,’ Bea said wistfully, ‘he is good, excellent control. He knows exactly when to let go.’

As I completed fastening my stockings to the suspenders and pulled up a thin pair of red silk French knickers I looked at Bea’s black clad body. It contrasted with the white skin of her arms and legs and the pale, almost translucent, properties of her breasts.

‘Bea?’ I began.

‘Yes?’

‘If white signifies that we are pupils of the arts of love and red denotes that my fanny has been penetrated by a penis, what then is black a symbol of?’ Bea did not reply at once but stood biting her lips.