The Education of Victoria Page 16

  ‘We’re going to have to flatten you, Victoria.’ She picked up a role of bandage, possibly the same as Neville used, and wound it tightly around my chest. It was quite uncomfortable squeezing my breasts so, but Bea was determined that my figure should resemble a man’s. With my bosom as flat as a pancake I pulled on a pair of men’s drawers and tied the cord around my waist. Bea handed me a rolled-up pair of stockings.

  ‘Stuff these down the front of your drawers,’ she said. I did as she suggested and looked down at the bulge at my crotch wondering what it would feel like to have a penis and testicles. Then I donned a white shirt, brown tweed breeches, woollen knee-length socks, a pair of Oxford brogues on my feet, a cravat around my neck and a tweed jacket to match my trousers. I was conscious of how thick and heavy the clothes were – I was already perspiring in the summer heat– but the freedom of movement that I had without the encumbrance of a tight-laced corset was quite liberating. Bea had me sit while she plaited and tied up my hair. A touch of make-up darkened my complexion a little and I was ready. Bea placed a tweed cap on my head as I gazed into the mirror scarcely recognising the handsome young man that I saw reflected.

  ‘Don’t forget to take the cap off indoors,’ Bea reminded me. ‘You had better sit in the drawing room to await the Colonel’s arrival.’

  We were only just in time as shortly after I had seated myself and experimented with crossing my legs, the bell rang and the maid showed the Colonel in. He was obviously well into middle age because the hair on his head and the full moustache on his upper lip were more grey than brown, but he still retained a military bearing. Bea rose to greet him.

  ‘Ah, Colonel. So pleasant to see you again. May I introduce, um, Victor.’

  ‘Good morning, madam,’ the Colonel replied, in a gruff but cheerful voice, ‘and hello young man.’

  ‘Good morning, sir,’ I said lowering my voice as much as possible. I could feel the Colonel’s eyes inspecting me.

  ‘Is all to your satisfaction?’ Bea enquired.

  ‘Hrrumph. Yes, indeed, madam. Victor, you will be my nephew for today. You are the youngest son of my dear sister, down from London for a day’s visit. Understand?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Right, well we’ll take our leave then. I’ll return the lad to you this evening, madam.’ I giggled a little at this and Bea gave me a dark look.

  ‘Very well, Colonel. Enjoy your day.’

  I followed the Colonel out on to the street and as the door closed behind us I suddenly realised that I had no inkling of what my purpose was to be. The Colonel set off at a quick march along the promenade and I ran to catch him up. He immediately began telling stories of his exploits overseas with his regiment. I tagged along, occasionally asking a brief question, while looking around at the passers-by. As with Neville/Amelia, the numerous holidaymakers did not give us a second glance. We were obviously a boy out with his uncle.

  We had walked about a mile along the seafront and I was feeling very hot in my tweeds. The Colonel stopped, swung about and crossed the road to the entrance to a public house.

  ‘I think we need some refreshment, lad,’ he said. He pushed the door open and I followed him in, and for the first time in my life entered the male-only preserve of a saloon bar. It was filled with tobacco smoke and men of all ages and states of drunkenness, obviously enjoying their vacation. Some were playing cards, dominoes and shove-ha’penny. Others were standing talking loudly. The Colonel drew the attention of the landlord and acquired two half-pint jugs of brown liquid. We found a couple of chairs by a table next to a window and sat down. The Colonel placed one of the jugs in front of me.

  ‘There, lad, get that down you.’ I had sampled wine and sherry, and at school we sometimes had a small glass of pils but this was my first experience of English dark bitter beer. I sipped it experimentally. It was indeed bitter, and warm, but I found it quite refreshing. The Colonel downed his in one gulp and called for more. He took a large cigar from his top pocket and lit it expertly. He took a few satisfied puffs. The smell was a lot more pleasant than the harsh smell of the cigarette and pipe tobacco being smoked by most of the other men in the public house. The Colonel offered the cigar to me.

  ‘Go on, my boy. Take a puff. Clean out your lungs.’ I placed the cigar to my lips, sucked and immediately began coughing uncontrollably. The Colonel took back his cigar and chuckled while I recovered my composure.

  After the second glass of beer I was feeling quite relaxed and beginning to find the Colonel’s stories quite amusing. He ordered a plate of bread and cheese for us and more beer. The food was welcome even though the bread was more gritty and heavy than I was used to. But after the third half pint I realised that my bladder was in need of some relief. I indicated my need to the Colonel.

  ‘Ah yes, boy, I think I could do with a piss too, you know. Come, I know where we can go.’

  We left the drinking house and walked a hundred yards or so back along the promenade.

  There on the sea wall was a small cottage-like building built, so a plaque recorded, to commemorate the Queen’s jubilee. It was a public convenience. We entered the gentlemen’s section. There were a couple of men standing at the urinal pissing into the drain. The Colonel went to join them.

  ‘Uncle,’ I whispered, ‘I can’t.’ He looked at me for a moment as if he did not understand.

  ‘Use a cubicle.’ He pointed to the row of four doors. Two doors were open revealing water closets. I took his hint and entered one of the compartments taking care to close the latch on the door. I unbuttoned my breeches and pulled them down and untied my drawers and tugged them down too. Then I sat and did my business. In the moments that it took I looked at the thin wooden board that partitioned off my private lavatory. There were drawings carved into the wood showing male and female parts and various conjunctions of the same. As I stood to replace my clothing I stooped to examine some of the lurid diagrams more closely and then I noticed that at about waist height a hole about two inches in diameter had been cut right through the partition. While I wondered what purpose the opening had, I heard someone enter the adjoining closet. There was the rustle of clothing being unfastened and then I was astonished when the knob of a penis was thrust through the hole. The cock was hard and at least six inches protruded through the hole in the wall. The foreskin was pulled back and the purple knob glistened. It quivered as if beckoning to me. I needed no more invitation and, kneeling, placed my lips around the glowing head. The cock flinched slightly but then it remained throbbing in my mouth. I moistened it with my tongue and then opened my mouth wider to take in more of the shaft. I engulfed it until my nose touched the wooden board and the knob tickled the back of my throat. I backed off a little and began to suck. The cock pulsed and I was sure I could hear groans from the other side of the partition. In moments a stream of semen filled my mouth. I swallowed and released the softening prick. It withdrew through the wall like a mole into its hole. I licked my lips, stood up and straightened my attire, and left the public convenience hurriedly, taking care not to stare at the other men that were lined up at the urinal. The Colonel wasn’t outside but he emerged a few seconds later.

  ‘That’s better, isn’t it, Victor?’

  ‘Yes, Uncle,’ I replied.

  ‘Let us continue our walk and I shall tell you of my adventures in India.’

  We spent the rest of the afternoon meandering along the sea front. We stopped to watch a Punch and Judy show and the donkeys giving rides to children. But mainly the Colonel talked and I listened.

  Eventually we arrived at his hotel, one of the grand sea front establishments. The Colonel showed me into his suite and I noticed that he took care to lock the door behind him. He lit up another cigar, then took off his jacket and folded it carefully before laying it on the back of a chair.

  ‘You can take your jacket off too, Victor.’ I must say I was relieved because the heavy cloth was stifling me. I took off the jacket and the Colonel took it from me and laid it
on his own.

  ‘You may unfasten your trousers now.’ I didn’t move as I was not sure what he meant.

  ‘Do as I say, boy. I will not tolerate disobedience.’ His raised voice carried menace and I realised that I must do as he commanded. I fumbled to undo the stiff, unfamiliar buttons of the breeches.

  ‘Face the bed and drop the trousers.’ I shuffled to the side of the bed and did as he asked. The breeches fell to my ankles.

  ‘And your drawers.’ My underwear joined the trousers. Now I was naked from the waist down and from the cigar smoke and beery breath I knew the Colonel was standing right behind me.

  ‘Hold your shirt up. Let’s have a look at you.’ I pulled the shirt-tails around my waist.

  ‘Yes, yes, a fine arse. Bend over.’ I leaned forward.

  ‘Lower!’ I bent further until I was resting on the bed. My bottom was stuck up in the air. I could hear him fumbling with his attire.

  ‘All boys need discipline if they are to become men,’ he said. There was a swish through the air and my right buttock burst into flame. Through the pain I realised that he had struck me with his wide leather belt. I cried out and tried to lift myself up. He thrust me back down onto the bed with a palm in the small of my back.

  ‘Don’t move or make a sound,’ he commanded and another blow struck my bare cheeks. I cried again and made to push myself up.

  ‘I said silence,’ he said as he pulled my arms behind my back and bound my wrists with a thick cord. Trussed like a pheasant I couldn’t move. He stuffed a handkerchief in my mouth and tied another around my head. I struggled to breathe. Now I was scared.

  ‘Perhaps that will keep you still and quiet,’ he mused as he began to lay into me with his belt. Blow after blow fell across my naked bottom. I squirmed and choked on the cloth filling my mouth. Tears filled my eyes as the fire in my rear grew with each lash.

  ‘Boys have to learn to take their punishment,’ he gasped between blows, breathing heavily. ‘They learn respect and obedience.’ Another fiery stripe crossed the top of my thighs.

  The belt made a thud when he dropped it on the floor. The rough tweed of his trousers pressed against my bare thighs and I felt his hard knob questing between by buttocks. For a moment I thought he would force his way into my arse but an instinct made me lift my burning buttocks. The tip of his cock slipped down my moist crack and into my hole. I heard him gasp with pleasure as he felt his manhood slide into my slot. His hips thrust forward and his tool filled me. His hands pressed against my shoulders and his weight pressed down on me as he pulled his penis out and drove in again. I grunted as the air was pushed out of me, the gag still preventing me from breathing easily. With my legs trapped by my trousers and my arms tied behind my back I could play no part in the intercourse. He used my body to achieve his own satisfaction. A couple of minutes of thrusting brought him to orgasm and I felt his semen flood my fanny.

  He withdrew, panting hard, and left me trussed up on the bed. I wriggled until I slid off the bed and onto my knees.

  ‘Who told you to move,’ he said picking me up by my shoulders and throwing me back onto the bed. Then he resumed the beating. Stroke after stroke lashed across my buttocks. Each one burned into me but I couldn’t scream, couldn’t make any noise and couldn’t even breathe. At last he stopped and pulled me from the bed so that I crumpled in a heap at his feet.

  ‘Get up on your knees, you whelp,’ he commanded. I struggled to push myself onto my knees with my arms bound, struggling to get air through my nose which was filled with tears and mucous. At last I made it into a kneeling position. He held my head, undid the gag and pulled the sodden handkerchief from my mouth.

  ‘Now, boy, thank me for showing you what discipline is all about.’ I said nothing as I was taking deep breaths. ‘Come on, lad. Every boy needs to learn who his master is and how he can satisfy him. Show your appreciation or I’ll give you another tanning.’

  ‘Thank you, Uncle,’ I said in a quiet shaking voice.

  ‘Good. Now see to your dress. It is time for dinner.’

  I pulled my drawers and breeches over my sore and throbbing buttocks. Then I followed the Colonel down to the dining room. We sat at a dining table covered with thick white cloth and the Colonel ate heartily while continuing to tell of his heroic exploits. I barely touched the food, appetizing though it was. Sitting on the upholstered but hard seat was painful and I was filled with resentment at how the Colonel had used me. Was this how men, military or otherwise, treated young boys? I think I was most disgruntled that I had not been called on to use my expertise in the arts of pleasure. My body had simply been used, or rather abused, as a receptacle for his cock, and as a target for his swinging arm. The Colonel made no mention of what had happened in his bedroom. After the meal he took me out of the hotel and put me in a cab. He thrust a sealed envelope addressed to Bea into my hand and instructed the driver to take me back to Bea’s house.

  The maid opened the front door and Bea ran out of the drawing room to greet me. She saw me limp into the hall and her face darkened.

  ‘What in heavens has happened to you, Victoria?’ she asked.

  ‘My bottom is somewhat sore from the beating the Colonel gave me,’ I replied.

  Bea turned to the maid.

  ‘Quickly. Run a bath in my bedroom.’ Then to me she continued, ‘Come on, my dear, let’s look after you and soothe those poor buttocks. Tell me all about it.’ I handed Bea the envelope as she took my arm and helped me up the stairs.

  Later, after a soothing hot bath, I lay naked on Bea’s bed. Gently she rubbed cooling cream onto my poor backside.

  ‘Did the Colonel know I was a female?’ I asked.

  ‘Of course,’ Bea replied, ‘why?’

  ‘Well not once throughout the whole day did he acknowledge that I was anything other than a boy. I think he even wanted to fuck me as a man would another man.’

  ‘He may be the type of man who likes to fuck young boys but, in his position, being caught with a young woman would be less of a scandal.’

  ‘I am not sure what he wanted from me.’

  ‘Oh, I think he got what he wanted. His note is full of appreciation for your company and look, he has included his payment with a generous tip.’ I turned my head to see Bea waving a banknote which I could see had the value of five pounds. It was a huge amount of money.

  ‘There, does that make the beating worthwhile?’ Bea asked. I wasn’t sure about that and hoped I wouldn’t be called upon to entertain the Colonel again, but I was happy to add the note to the others that I was storing in my trunk.

  Chapter 14

  Victoria, Head Girl

  The fresh mountain air felt lighter in my lungs and my pulse quickened at my first sight of the Venus School for Young Ladies further up the rough track. When at last my cart drew up to the main entrance the doors were flung open and Eric, Hermann and Albert ran out to greet me. I flung my arms around each in turn and planted huge kisses on their cheeks. With the help of the carter they lifted my trunk down and carried it into the vestibule of my school. Although I had had an enjoyable summer vacation it felt good to be back. A year ago I had approached the school apprehensively and angry at my father for sending me away from home. Now I was back among friends – and lovers.

  Madame Thackeray had asked me to return a few days early so there were no other girls to greet me, but Madame herself emerged from her study, obviously having heard the noise of my arrival.

  ‘Ah, Victoria, you have arrived. I am pleased to see you. Come in to my study; the boys will take your luggage to your room.’

  I followed her into the room that doubled as her study and bedroom. The furnishings were familiar as were the objects on her desk – a massive ebony dildo and a black leather crop. Having experience of both I was always a little nervous standing at Madame’s desk. She sat down and looked up at me.

  ‘I was very pleased with your progress last year, Victoria. You tried your hardest in all the subjects you studied. In pa
rticular, despite an occasional lapse in concentration, you excelled in the arts of love.’

  ‘Thank you, Madame,’ I said feeling pleased with myself.

  ‘It is for that reason,’ Madame continued, ‘that I have asked you to return before the normal start of term. I would like you to present this year’s demonstration to the new pupils and help the new girls settle in to school life.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, suddenly overwhelmed. I recalled Beatrice’s display on my first night at the school, and had had no idea that I would be called upon to follow her example. To be selected by Madame to represent all that she had taught us during our first year was the most sought-after honour.

  ‘Well, Victoria. What do you say?’ Madame asked. I recovered my composure.

  ‘I am honoured and delighted to do as you say.’

  ‘Very good. We shall commence rehearsals this evening. Eric and Hermann are familiar with the usual programme, of course, and they will help you through it. Now you can go and settle in and prepare yourself.’ I left Madame’s room feeling light-headed and made my way up to the room that I had shared with Bea for the last year. I felt proud to be following in my friend’s footsteps.

  A few hours later, Madame and I entered the large drawing room, brightly lit by the evening sun. Madame had laced me into my scarlet corset and helped pull up the matching silk stockings. Her fingers had lingered at the top of my thighs and if we had not been expected downstairs I believe that she would have pleasured me there and then. Eric and Hermann leapt to their feet as we entered looking resplendent in their traditional Tyrolean dress. Madame addressed us.

  ‘Now, Victoria, remember this, and you boys also. This demonstration is to show the new class what they have to learn over the next year. Giving and receiving pleasure is on this occasion not your first priority but of course to give a genuine show you have to put everything you have into your performance. Just remain aware of what you are doing and do not give yourself up entirely to the ecstasy of orgasm.’