The Pleasures of Bankruptcy Read online

  “Ohh… o-o-o-h mother!” gasped Louise. “And Mrs. Bolton… have you both gone crazy?”

  “Very lovely, aren't they, Louise?” Francis said softly and gloatingly. “See how charming the bottom of your mother… even though she appears slender when fully clad… shows up beside the ample backside of Rose.”

  “I have had to forbid them the luxury of drawers for the past few days. They are handier to get at when thus clad… or rather-unclad. Come over here-and pet them a little. They are about to suffer-and for your own fault… come-”

  The mother groaned softly in shame as she listened to her daughter's confused outcry-but she nevertheless continued steadfastly to project her nude and devoted bottom toward whatever fate it might be doomed to suffer. But the way in which her twin mounds shrank and quivered as she knelt there showed her apprehension of the punishment to come.

  “You see, Louise, I was compelled yesterday to administer spankings to both of these lovely ladies before they would agree to my requests. I think I told you to come here… and pet them both. Do you hear me?”

  “Ohh! God in heaven!” gasped the shamed and still quite incredulous virgin.

  He raised his right hand and delivered a ringing slap on the soft cheek of Doris's behind. She jumped and cried out and her daughter's cry responded to hers.

  “You see… to avoid jealousy,” he explained, and then smacked the splendid bottom of Rose also… drawing a sigh which was part groan from her lips. He raised his hand ominously over the blushing rear of Mrs. Tasker.

  Crack came his palm on the snowy and yielding flesh. A louder cry resounded this time in response.

  “Not… not s-so h-hard-ohh-p-please!” begged the woman. “It's sorer than yesterday and I can feel only the smarting pain.”

  “You mean instead of what you finally felt yesterday?” he said. “Which made you feel a white bodied, rosy assed and frantic bacchante-ready for any indulgence I demanded of you. If Rose was designed to be kept under the control of a man, I am certain you were intended to be kept under his castigation.”

  “Keep your legs together,” he directed with assumed severity. “You are exposing yourself revoltingly to both Louise and myself. Take pattern by Doris… who clenches her thighs tightly together-even when she is smitten.”

  “To be sure, she is probably conscious all the time of a certain transformation in front, and wished to conceal it from her daughter.”

  “Ohh God…” wailed Louise, uncomprehending his cynical comments, but shaken to the core as she saw him raise his hand once more over her mother's bare bottom. “Don't beat her any more-I can't stand it!”

  “Then you know how to stop it,” he remarked. “You have only to obey my instructions.”

  “What… ohh! W-what m-must I do?” she whispered.

  “You must show a kindly spirit-by caressing and petting the lovely bottoms of both your mother and Mrs. Bolton,” he said. “Ease the smart of their burning backsides if you can, with the caresses of your soft hands.”

  “In the valleys too,” he directed in a whisper. “It's useless unless you are thorough, Louise.”

  “Please-ohh God… please don't make her… d-do t-this,” quavered the shamed Doris. “A young girl… and in-my own child-it's terrible!”

  “She shouldn't mind-since you're both women,” he said mildly. “If one of you were her cousin Jack, for example, she might well be more perturbed. Satisfy yourself, Louise, that they are both of your own sex.”

  The girl swayed on her feet eyeing him with drooping shame. “You are being more and more disgusting… every minute!” she faltered indignantly.

  “No… ohh, no! Can't you see how much she is suffering already?” cried Louise desperately.

  “Run your fingers in between each pair of thighs!” he ordered imperiously. “Clear down, mind you. Pet their little slits-you hear me, girl? I don't know what keeps me from lining you up beside them-with your skirt up and your little pink bottom in full view!”

  “Stop… stop! Ohh… I will do it!” cried the girl feverishly, as her mother moaned and twisted under the harsh blows.

  “Mother-please forgive me… for doing this!” cried Louise. “I have to touch you-there… to save you from being spanked brutally!”

  “I think you are being recalcitrant, Doris,” he said. “It teems as if you are unwilling to permit Louise to perform the soothing gesture which I had asked her to do. You are only making it more embarrassing for all of us. Will you lie there and part your legs nicely and let us see her pet you a trifle?”

  Doris groaned and wailed… and now her fine thighs drew somewhat apart.

  “Now then, Louise…” he said, as he withdrew his hand from between her legs.

  “What an unspeakable thing to make me do!” said the girl thickly. “Mother, mother darling… forgive me- you know how I am compelled…”

  Anil Doris gaspingly resisted again-wholly unwilling that her daughter should discover the transformation that the man's caprice had wrought on the front view of her charmingly denuded sex.

  “You may get up ladies!” he announced politely.

  Doris and Rose slowly scrambled to their feet, their skirts dropping around them.

  “Louise.” he observed softly. “Now that you have seen how thoroughly I punish and humiliate those who are foolish enough to oppose me, perhaps you will not hesitate any more in removing that blue gown and handing it to Mrs. Bolton immediately.”

  Taking the skirt by the hem, she lifted it up the slim lines of her pretty legs, uncovering an expanse of silken stockings-and also the snowy thighs above them. She slid it over her rounded hips, past the swell of her fine buttocks, and then clear of her girlish breasts. Over her head with one single gesture-and she stood before them in blushing confusion and dismay.

  And now, as flaring crimson and clasping the discarded garment desperately to her instead of yielding it to Mrs. Bolton, Louise stood there in just her undies and stockings and shoes, it became evident that she had sound reasons for her dread of even partially disrobing before male eyes-of any age at all.

  “You think, Doris,” he enquired at length, “that this thin gown and this diaphanous undergarment is sufficient for protection for this tender body in our winter weather?”

  “She… she wears a heavy fur coat,” Doris defended herself hastily and tremulously. “Besides, girls do pretty much as they like nowadays… in both dress and… other matters!”

  “But the beauty of her skin might suffer,” he criticised. It would be a crime to allow such lovely thighs to become roughened by the winter weather. Come here, Louise, and let me feel your thighs.”

  “Give the gown to Mrs. Bolton, Louise!” he commanded the girl.

  Mechanically she moved as if to comply — and then, seeing how all her body was revealed through the fragility of her undergarment in its most intimate details, she gave a little cry and drew the dress about her once more.

  “I fear, Doris,” he said placidly, “that you have not trained Louise to instant obedience. You and I will have a reckoning on that point later. Meanwhile, I think that you had better set her a good example by removing and returning to Rose the gown which you have on-which also has not been paid for as yet.”

  The beautiful Mrs. Tasker paled… but she complied at once with his order. With her marvelous bronze gold hair topped by a daintily coquettish hat — with a short chemise of creamy silk barely concealing hips and crotch and leaving the lower curves of her lovely buttocks on display-with her handsome legs clad in gauzy silk stockings to half way up her thighs-Doris presented the loveliest of pictures.

  She was so glorious in her disarray and her shame that, even though he had enjoyed her lovely body to the full the previous day, Francis vibrated ardently to the sight.

  “Follow your mother's example, Louise,” he directed. “Give Mrs. Bolton your gown — which is of course her property and not yours.”

  And as the scantily clad girl still hesitated, he sighed mockingly at her-
and turned back to Doris Tasker in simulated regret.

  “I had hoped to spare you, Doris!” he said. “But really! Louise is so obstinate that I must take extreme measures with you in my attempt to appeal to her better nature. Come here-Doris… lie over my left thigh and lift your chemise in the rear up to the small of your back.”

  The bright color flooded anew over the face of the poor Doris Tasker as she gave this renewed evidence of the lascivious and utter domination which the man held over her and Mrs. Bolton.

  His left arm went about her body. He had planted his left foot on a low stool. She gasped-and with good reason, for his broad palm supporting her body did so by invading the soft, hairless mound of her sex… while upon her naked hip was pressed the exciting and throbbing shaft of his concealed virility.

  Wide eyed and shuddering, Louise witnessed this weak and disgraceful display of her mother's abject yielding to this new shame. She saw Francis raise his right hand in the air for the first smack upon the doomed behind. Her mother's body anticipated the blow… and twisted away in a gesture of fright. Her parted legs writhed across his thigh, disclosing all her secret charms.

  “Stop… stop!” quavered the trembling girl hoarsely, as she eyed her mother's pink and moistly opening slit with a mixture of horror and delight.

  “I will do what you say-I will take off anything… I will let you see-do-whatever you say! But… don't… please don't spank my mother again! Mrs. Bolton- here is the dress…”