Orfans: Hilda's Diary

[ MF/g, oral, enema, spank, bond, Ds, fist, anal, beast ]

by Pent

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Published: 15-Feb-2013

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This work is Copyrighted to the author. All people and events in this story are entirely fictitious.

Sir Thomas Has Plans for Beryl

Start: Tue May 9, 1780

Dr. Henry Browne's 1786 account tells how he ran The Great Orfanage in London, and in particular of the punishments given to the orphan Beryl by Hilda, the governess of m'Lady Cynthia and Sir Thomas B---, before she was taken to join their household at Richmond.

The following extracts have been transcribed from the diary of Hilda, for which we have thank Ms. Fifi Babette who discovered the original in the Fitzwilliam at Cambridge, England.

The diary is penned in six notebooks, each of five sheets of paper which are stitched together by hand down the middle, to give one hundred twenty pages of writing. It starts and ends as though these are six of a series of notebooks, but none others have thus far been discovered.

The original wording of Hilda's diary has been altered only where needed for understanding by a modern reader. No attempt has been made to change the leisurely pace of Hilda's narrative, as she records the painful spankings and other shameful mistreatments that were given to the bottom of the eleven-year-old orphan Beryl.

"Shameful mistreatment" today, though commonly practiced it seems, in the 1700's - and did bring only great joy to Beryl herself!

The diary may be called repulsive by some: You read on at your own risk . . .

Pentland Embury, Ed., August 25, 2000

Tuesday, May 9, 1780

I take up again the writing of my diary.

After m'Lady Cynthia brought the orphan Beryl from the Great Orfanage to Richmond, she settled the girl into a routine by having her do simple sewing each day under m'Lady's direction.

Beryl eats her meals with the children and me in the nursery, where they are brought to us by the servant girl Jane, and Beryl has a room to herself on the same floor of the west wing as us, not in the servants' attic.

I am mostly occupied giving lessons to the two children of m'Lady: Morag, 7, and Giles, 5, and teaching them to eat with good table manners and to behave well in general, guiding them with firm discipline at all times.

Morag is a sturdy girl, taking after the build of her father, and with his same genial nature. Giles is quite different: he is small, even for a 5-year-old, with fair curly hair and blue eyes, highly intelligent and inclined to get over-excited.

Beryl now looks after the children for some hours each day, and Jane occasionally does this too, which gives me some welcome time to myself.

M'Lady finds fault with Beryl's work almost every week, and instructs me to punish her in the way I had done at the Great Orfanage, while a maid takes the children away from the house and out of earshot for an hour.

These punishments of Beryl always end by tying her wrists to a spreader bar above her head and caning her bottom to make her dance lively . . . which m'Lady likes to see.

After punishment by me, which m'Lady watches through a peep-hole behind a picture on the wall, I lead Beryl into her room and lay her sobbing and naked, face down on the bed for m'Lady to soothe her pain and speak forgivingly to her until her tears are dried.

Beryl soon settled into steady weeks of living, helping me with lessons to the children; sewing; and spankings which m'Lady enjoys to watch, then enjoys even more to soothe and forgive her.

This warm Summer afternoon, while Beryl was looking after the two children, I sat with my book in the rose arbour, dipping once more into the passionate Elizabethan poems of Skelton, Wyatt, and Shakespeare, when I heard Sir Thomas and his doctor, Abercrombie, stop to talk on the other side of the high yew hedge.

I thought to rise and silently leave, but their first words transfixed me . . .

"Doctor, I would dearly love to slide my rampant yard deep into the soft warm bottom of young Beryl . . .

"Tell me, how can I do this without injury to her with my huge engine?"

I froze . . . I could not move . . . I had to hear more . . .

"Many of the nobility use this way with their servant girls, Sir Thomas, so as to avoid later muling and puking of infants that do so greatly disrupt a household.

"There are two common ways to achieve it without injury, Sir Thomas . . . Beryl is a tall slender girl of eleven . . . but it can be done at eight or even younger . . .

"With either way, you had best always spank her soundly first: it relaxes her muscles and eases your entry.

"The simplest and the oldest way is for me to give you a thick padded ring to slide down over your rampant yard, so you can not enter too far into her".

"Let me be plain doctor, and we are alone so I'll speak clear . .

"I want my stiff yard so far into Beryl's bottom that I feel her two lovely soft warm cheeks pressing hard against me . .

"How can I do that without risk to split her?"

"It will take careful work to prepare her Sir Thomas, but it can certainly be done so you will have your desire within a month. . . and she will most greatly delight in your doing of it!

"Tell me Sir Thomas, while she is being prepared for your use, do you perhaps have any friend for whom you may also wish her to be prepared - a friend whose rampant yard may be even larger than your own?"

"Share her with a good friend?! I like it!!

"Possibly his Grace the Duke of D---- . . . His wife the Duchess died a year ago, poor fellow, and he lacks for female company.

"He is a close friend of like interests, and I believe he is even better endowed that me . . ."

"I ask because before all else, Sir Thomas, I must measure the thickness and lengths of both your rampant yards. Only thus can the girl be prepared so we can be sure she will not be injured by your entry.

"A simple way for both you and his Grace to achieve this state of rampant desire is to have Beryl herself suck on your yards with her own sweet lips . . . one after the other.

Sir Thomas:

"Egad! Doctor, you are right . . for the girl has a compliant nature. She aches to feel appreciated, I have noticed, and loves doing for someone who cares for her. And if that someone wished to experiment with things new to her, I wager she'd be willing to do't".

"I suggest we blindfold her first that we do not frighten her. Then have her kneel somewhere padded and comfortable . . . such as the altar rail in your chapel, which she can hold to steady herself.

"You step towards her from the other side of the rail with your codpiece open, and I tell her to suck as though taking the milk direct from a cow - for she knows about milking from her time at the Orfanage.

"When you are fully engorged, I have her cease and measure you with my calipers. This will tell me how long we need to make the inside of her bottom.

"Then I instruct her to do the same with his Grace's yard, and I measure him also".

"After you have measured the size of my rampant yard, you must tell Beryl to continue to "milk the cow", so she finishes what she has started, and swallows the "milk" too, doctor!

"And the same for his Grace!!"

"Of course, Sir Thomas . . . as you wish . . .

"And from your judgment of the girl, she should take well to the work; you may then choose to add it to her other household duties . . . and without a blindfold, perchance!

"And be assured, Sir Thomas, when I know the sizes that she is to be prepare for, we will only add to the *length* of her straight passageway, so to ensure you do not pierce her within.

"We will do nothing to her diameter inside: you yourself will stretch her narrow chitterling each time you do enter, and this enlargement of a girl by your rampant yard does provide untold ecstasy to you and her, both, when you do enter the bottom of a young girl.

"It is more sensuous by far, to both you and her, than your rampant yard in her virgin vagina: and the narrowness of her anus is as nothing compared to the grip along the whole length of your rampant member as it burrows slowly up, stretching her narrow passage . . . as you may well know . . . it does feel like unto Heaven itself!

"Our work is to increase her *length* inside, and this will be greatly eased by a device invented by my colleague, Dr Yarrow. He has a busy practice treating servant girls and others in this way, and is most expert in the matter.

"I will ask how soon he can bring the equipment and perform the delicate operation for us to give greater length to the straight part as you will enter her bottom . . . if you agree to this course, Sir Thomas?"

"The plan sounds good, and I would like to carry it through as soon as you and he are able".

"I will send word immediately to Dr Yarrow in the City, Sir Thomas, to ask how soon he can come.

"He will require a coach to transport himself the ten miles with his device.

"He will need, I know, the services of Mistress Hilda or another one skilled in nursing for the two weeks of slow straightening that he may need to ensure success".

"Before your colleague arrives, doctor, you will insist m'Lady Cynthia takes the waters for at least a month at the Pantiles of Tunbridge. I will give her some spending money and she will welcome the chance to join the fashionable fops and folderols there for a few weeks".

I then heard them walk off towards the house, still talking, and I was left unsure whether to be more fearful or excited at the prospect ahead.

I hastened soon after to my room, to commit this to paper now while still fresh in my memory . . .

Wednesday, May 17, Noon.

M'Lady Cynthia departed two days past in Sir Thomas' coach to stay with her sister at Tunbridge Wells for a month, thirty miles distant. The coach returned yesterday, ready to go to London for Dr. Yarrow and his device (which I die to see!).

His Grace the Duke of D---- arrives this afternoon, for his size to be measured!!

Seven in the Evening of Wednesday.

Sir Thomas and the doctor want me to conduct the orphan Beryl through the tests they plan to make with her, and for me to speak to her and keep a hand touching her at all times, so she will be compliant and have no fear.

I accordingly told Beryl that Sir Thomas and the doctor wished her to do some simple experiments with them, like unto the learned men and women who have been breathing Laughing Gas in London to know its effects . . . but nothing so severe.

"They love you well, dear Beryl. You can be sure no ill can become of you".

"If you do stay close at all times, Mistress Hilda, I know no harm can happen".

And with that we went down to the main hall where Sir Thomas and his Grace and the doctor Abercrombie awaited.

"Thank you for agreeing to do some small experiments, Beryl. And, did Mistress Hilda tell you? Be sure you keep what we do as a secret, my dear, and speak of what we do to no one, not even my wife, for we are like to be the first to make certain scientific discoveries.

"Have you met his Grace the Duke of D----? He is to be with us and is staying for a few days".

Beryl gave his Grace her most demure and angelic smile as she dropped a deep and pretty curtsy to him . . .

"And you know our doctor well of course".

And Beryl gave a quick bob, as appropriate to his lower rank, nodding her head as she did so.

"Mistress Hilda will first put this blindfold of black silk over your eyes, for you must not know which one of us is doing or speaking any of the things . . . I don't suppose you often get to have real silk from China next to your skin, do you my dear?"

And much more of the same chatter from Sir Thomas to make Beryl feel at ease, while I tied the ample blindfold in place then led Beryl by the hand through the door to the chapel and helped her to kneel at the altar rail, telling her to hold it well.

Sir Thomas gave me a strange look at one point . . . for I seemed to know what Beryl was to do almost before he had given me the signal . . . Little did he know I had their whole plan from listening in the rose arbour!!

I kept my hand lightly on Beryl's shoulder, as Sir Thomas had asked. The doctor began to speak:

"Beryl, you are to open your mouth . . a little wider . . and I am going to place in it like unto the part of a cow that you learned to milk at the Great Orfanage . . .

"Now I want you to suck on this cow's teat . . . suck with all your might . . as hard as you can . . but do not bite it . .

"You feel it in your mouth . . . it swells and enlarges from what you are doing . . .

"Now slow your sucking and swirl your warm tongue around it . . . now open your mouth for me to make a measurement on the teat..

"So . . . good girl . . . well done".

and the good doctor quickly used his wooden caliper to measure the length of Sir Thomas' throbbing member . . . and a tape for its circumference . . . then said:

"Six a quarter . . . Four exact.

"Do now continue your work, Beryl . . suck hard . . hard . .

"Keep at it . .

"And swallow the milk that the cow will give . . it is excellent for your health!!

"Now open your mouth and I remove the cow's teat . . . and give you of another drink . . . from a cup.

"The whiskey and milk, Hilda!!

"Hilda, will you take a napkin to Beryl's lips, please . . . the cow's milk did somewhat overflow . . .

"And Hilda, give Beryl a sweetmeat to refresh her before we continue".

My hand was all this time reassuringly on Beryl's shoulder, and I squeezed her gently as she ate the sugar sweet, to tell her all was well . . .

"Now Beryl, you have finished the sweetmeat I see . . . We need to repeat what you have just done, with another cow...

"One measurement is never good in matters scientific, you know!

"Hold the rail firmly again and oooopen your mouth . . . wider! and I insert the cow's teat . . . thus.

"Now as before, suck hard . . . hard . . . hard . . .

"And it grows and swells in your mouth . . .

"Good . . . now open your mouth while I remove it to measure . .

"Six a half . . . Four a quarter . . .

"Well done, Beryl . . . now I return it to see if you can make it larger still with sucking . . .

"And swirl your tongue around it too . . .

"Now open . . . and I measure again . . . the same . . .

"Now I return it for you to suck until it yields its milk".

All looked to go well . . . when Beryl did suddenly release her hold on the rail and before I could stop her, raised her two hands to bring them forward and clasp between them whatever was attached to the "Cow's Teat" . . .

She took but a moment to understand that she held the hips of a man... then clasped them firmly and eagerly pulled the hips so the "Cow's Teat" did slide far down her throat as it spirted out its milk . . .

And his Grace did permit his hands to lightly caress the hair of Beryl's head and pull it gently towards him . . .

It was a most touching moment, as the angelic blindfolded virgin of eleven awoke to what it was she did . . . . and showed that it delighted her.

Then the magic of the spell was broken by the Doctor:

"Now Beryl, open your mouth and release what is in it . . . and take another drink from the cup to restore you".

Then for the first time in all this, Beryl spoke:

"Thank you, doctor. I would like to hold the taste that is now in my mouth, an't please you, sir".

For a moment, the doctor was at a loss . . . then:

"You are to be most highly commended for your preference! Good girl!!

"Now our experiments are completed for tonight and we thank you. Remember . . . Not a word to *anybody* of what we have done.

"Mistress Hilda will now conduct you back to your room, and be sure to sleep well tonight, for we have a busy day for you tomorrow.

"I bid you a good night from us all".

I helped Beryl to her feet from where she knelt at the altar rail, and she did curtsey most prettily again, blindfolded though she was, with a sweet smile that would melt the heart of an ogre . . . but with the smallest dribble of "milk" falling from the corner of her mouth . . .

As I held her arm, she turned and walked with me from the chapel into the main hall again, and I closed the door behind us.

I removed the blindfold from Beryl's eyes, and she had no idea which door we had just come through, as she had never been in the chapel before . . .

As we made out way back to the nursery floor of the west wing, going up the servants' stairs behind the main hall, Beryl asked:

"That last time, the man I held, he was the Duke wasn't he? He was larger . . . I like him so much, Mistress Hilda".

"People like you and me, Beryl, don't like or dislike a Duke, or Sir Thomas or any other of the gentry. We just do what they want, and we do it as well as we possibly can, and be thankful that they feed and clothe us Beryl".

When we reached the nursery, the children were already sleeping of course, and I offered Beryl a chicken wing to eat and bread.

But she would have none of it:

"..for it would spoil the taste I have in my mouth, thank you"

And she went straight to bed.

I put my head in ten minutes ago, and she was sound asleep, with flushed cheeks and looking as angelic as ever . . .

Thursday, May 18, Morning

"First after breakfast we will make you clean - oh! so clean! Outside and in!", I said as I woke Beryl.

Beryl's eyes sparkled. She loved being the center of attention. For an eleven-year-old with such a pale slender figure, her bottom was unexpectedly pronounced and well-rounded, soft and warm and sensuous . . .

"I will like that, Mistress Hilda! Thank you!"

Beryl sat in her nightdress at the table by a window that looked out over Richmond Park so she could watch the deer that roamed freely (property of the King!) while she ate her simple breakfast of bread and honey, and a mug of milk.

She loves this first quiet bit of her day in the home of m'Lady Cynthia and Sir Thomas. It is so different from the Great Orfanage in the bustle and noise of London's centre, as she keeps telling me.

Here, the early morning sun shines through the leaves of the trees and nothing moves except the deer that are treading delicately as they take their first meal of the day . . . (much as you can see them in Richmond Park today: Ed)

"Hurry now! We don't have all day to gaze out the window! Off to the jakes with you, and be sure to take time and do all you can"

When Beryl returned to her room, I had a tub ready with warm water to bathe her. Beryl slid off her nightdress and lowered herself into the tub, and I used soap to make Beryl specially clean.

Then out and dry with a thick coarse cloth that made her skin bright and rosy as I rubbed it hard all over her . . .

The fire made a warm glow in the room and I motioned for Beryl to bend herself over the table, ready for her clean-out clyster, as the young servant girl, Jane, came in to help me.

Beryl folded her arms against the top of her chest, as usual, and bent to rest her shoulders on a pillow at the table's edge. I made sure she held steady, with a halter-strap above her shoulders, and another across under her armpits, holding her firm to the table.

With her feet standing well apart to steady herself, her bottom bent over, and her body horizontal above the floor, I would be able to rub her tummy to ensure the water flowed well up to clean her insides . . .

"Jane, did you get the bowl of roasting fat from cook, as I asked?"

"Yes, Mistress Hilda.

"She gave me a good bowl: it's there on the shelf.

"Cook says that passing the melted fat through a cloth does take most of the flavour away for eating on bread, but she has done like you asked and it is crystal clear.

"It is the drippings from the roast of pork on Sunday.

I had Jane mix a basin of warm soapy water, then I pulled the plunger from the cylinder of the large clyster to draw about a gallon of the warm soapy mixture up to fill the barrel.

The long metal cylinder with a gallon of water in it was quite heavy and I used the support made for it that stood on the floor and was shaped like a crutch.

I used the pork dripping to grease the long fat ivory nozzle and slid it carefully towards Beryl's waiting rosebud, then slid it gently up into her bottom:

"Beryl, the doctor has ordered me, first, to force a whole gallon of warm soapy water into your bottom".

I pushed the handle slowly, and I could see Beryl feel the thrill and excitement (which she always got) as the warm water began to surge into her bottom.

When the plunger was about half way in, I told Jane to hold up the barrel of the clyster, and I reached under Beryl to work my fingers deep into her tummy:

"This will help the water to go right up inside you Beryl",

I took the clyster back from Jane's grasp . . . and drew much of the water slowly out of Beryl's bottom by pulling the plunger back a long way . . . then I pushed it back in again, quickly, even further than it had been . . . and could see Beryl's tummy bulge hard with the pressure.

I repeated this, pulling water slowly back out of Beryl's bottom (and the large nozzle was wide enough to pass everything through), then pumping it quickly up . . up . . up. . . to make her tummy bulge more than ever.

"There! You have the whole gallon clyster inside your bottom now. Jane, you are to hold the barrel here and stay just like this until I tell you both you can move.

"We must give the soapy water inside you time to do its cleaning

"And don't you two let a single drop leak onto the floor or it's the cane on your hand for both of you!"

And I went busying myself about the room while Jane stood holding the huge clyster barrel, terrified to move in case some water would leak out from Beryl's bulging tummy . . .

Beryl herself clearly wasn't sure if she felt more excitement from the great pressure of hot water in her tummy, or fear at the thought of letting some of it to leak out while she waited.

After five minutes I returned and pulled over a tub on wheels, ready for Beryl to sit on.

"Now Jane, when I say "Go!" you pull the nozzle slowly out of Beryl's bottom, and I'll press my thumb in to stop any leaks.

"Beryl, I have released your straps, once you feel my thumb in your bottom, I will help you stand up, then you sit down on the tub behind you to empty yourself.

"Ready? GO!"

It worked well: I was deft with my well-greased thumb and slid it firmly, as far as it would go, right into Beryl's bottom just as Jane got the big nozzle clear.

I slid my arm under Beryl's tummy and helped her stand, then lower herself onto the waiting barrel.

Finally, when I was sure that Beryl was sitting properly in place, I slid my thumb out from Beryl's bottom to let the flood of warm sudsy water come rushing out into the barrel under her.

I left Beryl a long time to sit and drain herself, and I saw that from the barrel she could look out of the window and over Richmond Park again. The deer had gone and there were horse-drawn coaches and light phaetons speeding along the roads that criss-crossed the park land - there was something new to see every minute . . .

Soon though I came and rubbed her tummy and more water came out. A little later, I said:

"Good! I'll dry your bottom with this cloth, Beryl. Now I want you back up, bending over the table for a clean-water rinse!

"Jane, float this cup of perfumed oil onto the tub - The odour will be sweeter!"

Jane had already cleaned the clyster cylinder by using the plunger to pump water in and out, and she now had it filled with a full gallon of clear warm water . .

Greasing the big smooth ivory nozzle, I slid it firmly into Beryl's waiting bottom and began to push the plunger into the barrel of the clyster cylinder.

Just as before, when the plunger was about half way into the barrel, I stopped and reached under Beryl to rub her tummy. Then I pulled the plunger a long way out, slowly, before thrusting it quickly back in further than it had been before.

I continued with this out-and-in movement of the plunger, to make the warm water come slowly out of Beryl, then - swoosh - quickly in again to clean out anything left in there of the soapy mixture.

The rush and flow of water in and out of Beryl's bottom was making her more and more excited and she began to moan and wriggle . . .

"Stop your nonsense this minute and stay completely still, Beryl.

"Jane! Just stay exactly where you are with the clyster in your hand! We'll give Beryl some time to calm down".

After a few minutes, I returned and told Jane and Beryl to go through the drill exactly as before . . . and Beryl sat on the tub again with my thumb completely buried up to its hilt in her bottom, then I pulled it quickly out so she emptied the water from herself . . .

I gave Beryl a further full gallon clyster of warm clear water, pumping the water out and in again to ensure it washed out any soapy mixture.

"Now . . we are ready for Doctor Abercrombie! I will fetch him".

Beryl Taught New Skills

Thursday, May 18, Morning: Later

"Dr. Yarrow has not yet arrived", I told Jane and the eleven year old Beryl as I came back into the room.

With me were the two children for whom I am governess: Morag who was seven, and Giles, five.

"We will take this opportunity for Morag and Giles to have another lesson in human anatomy . . .

"Beryl, stay with your shoulders lying on the table with your feet well apart - so you keep steady . . .

"Now, Morag and Giles: Beryl has just been washed out and cleaned more thoroughly than any clyster that either of you have ever had. Water put into her bottom, now flows out fit for a king to drink . . .

"You asked me last week, Giles, what the inside of a person's bottom is like, and I want you to find out for yourself . . . you have a small hand and can do this with Beryl . . . Morag, your hand would be too large, I'm afraid . .

"Jane, roll up the right hand sleeve of Giles' shirt . . . now put grease on his right hand, and smear it all around so it is well covered.

"That looks good! Now Giles, . . . I want you to keep your fingers stiff and straight, and put the tips together, with your thumb tucked in underneath on your palm, like this . . . (and I showed him with my own hand).

"Good! Now press your stiff finger tips against the hole in Beryl's bottom . . . that's it!

"Now push into her hole while you move your hand from side to side . . . good! Your fingers start to sliiiiide into her bottom . . .

"Now pull your hand out, then push it back again, haaaaarder!

"Keep doing it Giles, but stop if Beryl tells you to . . . we mustn't hurt her . . . . . . . .

"Riiiight! Your hand has slid aaaaaaaaaall the way in!!

"Now gently move your hand around inside Beryl's bottom . . . It's warm and cozy and slipperie in there, isn't it? Your hand is completely inside Beryl...

"You can not get closer to any friend than that!!

"Isn't Beryl wonderfully warm and smooth inside her bottom? You feel for yourself what it's like . . . and answer your own question!"

Jane suddenly interrupted me and said:

"Mistress Hilda . . . I can hear them calling you from below!"

And I ran out of the room, a bit flustered . . .

I heard from Jane afterwards what happened: I'd left while Giles still had his hand inside Beryl's bottom.

He curled his little hand into a fist and pulled it, shouting:

"Look! I've made a fist and it won't come out!!"

Then Giles pushed his fist up inside Beryl's bottom, as far in as it would go, then back again until it was only stopped coming out by its size . . .

Then push . . . up inside her again, then as far back as he could towards him . . .

Giles was getting a bit excited as was his way: Back and forth he pumped his knobby little fist, back and forth, faster and faster . . .

Beryl squirmed and wriggled harder and harder with the great excitement he was giving her . . . then she started to shout in a wild ecstasy:

"More! More!! More!!!"

And just at that moment Doctor Abercrombie entered the room with me close behind:

"WHAT is going on here?!?", he thundered . . .

"I am giving the children an anatomy lesson, Doctor, but he wasn't supposed . . .

"Stop this at once!! You . . . (Pointing to Jane) get his hand out and wash it! And clean her bottom too!

"Then all sit down until Mistress Hilda and I return; And give me one of those!!!", grabbing a willow cane from the jar of water as he left the room.

Well, I don't need to write what happened to me just two doors away!

Thursday, May 18, Noon

The gardeners had brought up the device of Doctor Yarrow, and he was quick to assemble what looked like a chair held between two disks of wood. The wheels were nearly five foot high: it was all thin polished wood and bolted together.

I came into the room, my face hot and flushed, but I had otherwise regained control of myself after my beating by Doctor Abercrombie for my foolishness . . .

"Dr Yarrow, this is Mistress Hilda who will be assisting us".

"Mistress Hilda, I am pleased to meet you", and I bobbed a curtsey.

"Can you please help Beryl to sit here, between the two wheels, naked and without any clothing . . . Good!

"Now I'll put this platform in place over her thighs and fasten it firmly . . . I fix the shoulder pads to suit you. They take much of your weight when you are upside down . . .

"The wheels are going to roll on the floor so your seat is turned upside down, and you will be supported then by these shoulder pads and the platform that will then be *under* your thighs . .

"All this talking - it's quicker to just do it . . . but I don't want you being startled or surprised".

"Ready now?", and we rolled the wheels so the seat with Beryl in it, turned upside down.

"Mistress Hilda, please place the wood bars across on the floor, against the wheels so they will not roll. "Chocks" some people call them".

The top parts of the wheels were then unbolted and removed.

"Beryl's bottom is facing up to the ceiling, you see, at a nice height off the floor, ready for our work"

And he looked down for the first time, and took in the perfection of young Beryl's soft warm bottom.

Beryl's skin was silky-smooth and creamy-white, and the form of her bottom was perfect. Her rosebud resembled coral in color -kept as beautiful as the lips to her mouth by its daily wash with the clyster she had from the Great Orfanage.

Hilda's Sketch:

Hilda has a sketch in her diary, to show how Beryl is now positioned. The wheels are the shape of a capital "D", with the curved part on the floor, flat side upwards.

Beryl is bent in the shape of a capital "L", upside down: body straight down, padded support blocks under shoulders; legs horizontal, resting on the platform along the flat side of the "D"; her bottom about forty inches above the floor.

Sketch shows the platform that supports Beryl's thighs, and the back board with shoulder supports on it.

Doctor Yarrow shook himself out of his reverie over the beauty of Beryl's bottom:

"Dr. Abercrombie, this is where we come to the vital inspection. Hilda, a basin of water, just a little warmer than your hand, if you please . . . on the table . . . thank you.

"This, Dr. A is my most important instrument: A rectascope, made by the famous Guiseppe Campani in Rome . . .

"We lay the glass rod in the basin of water . . . and leave it to warm.

"The end we insert is rounded; the end we look into, and where we shine the light down, is flat.

"As we slowly insert the glass rod, it's lower end parts the walls of the rectum, and we have a magnified view of every little bit, as it passes the rounded end of the rod.

"Jane, will you pour from the teapot, so Dr. A and I can enjoy a cup while we wait? The glass rod must be uniform temperature throughout, Dr. A, or we will not see clearly . . . there is no hurrying this work!

"Hilda, can you please find me the brightest light in the house and stand it on the table here?"

I think very little passed while I went to the library and took the lamp from the table there, which Sir Thomas used for reading, and left a note in its place to tell him of Dr. Yarrow's need for it.

"Ah! The lamp! . . . and it is a fine strong light, Hilda . . Thank you!!

"I fasten this small mirror on a head-band near my eye, so it will reflect light from the lamp down the glass rod . . . and we take the rectascope from the water bath . . . put a little clear grease on it . . .

"My dear, this is going to be about as thick as my finger, and I'll slide that in first . . . You opened easily . . . good! (He knew nothing of Giles' fist!) Now I sliiiide the glass rod gently into your bottom, my dear . . while we examine its rosy walls . . .

"Hmmmmmm! Good so far!! I sloooowly slide it in further, looking closely at the walls . . . all the way in . . . Notice I am careful not to push hard, Dr. A.

"Beryl: does this hurt you at all? No? . . Rather pleasant is it?. . . Good!!

"Dr A, this is as far as the glass rod will go easily . . . I hold it with my thumb on it here, touching Beryl's anus, and pull the rod out.

"Now please Dr. A, measure the length from the round end to my thumb"

"Three and three quarters inch, Doctor Yarrow". . . .

"Good! That tells us how much work we have to do . . . Now, you fasten the mirror to your head, and examine the walls of her rectum for yourself . . .

Now you hold the glass rod with your thumb pressed on Beryl's anus, and pull it smoothly out . .

"And I measure . . . Yes indeed, three three quarters!

"Let us leave this young lady for a minute while we three talk together. Mistress Hilda, is there a room we can go to?"

"Yes, Doctor Yarrow, follow me please! In Beryl's room".

When we had closed the door there, Dr Yarrow explained:

"Now we start the work!! We will make the colon that lies above Beryl's rectum to be in line with it, so my rectascope will slide straight into Beryl's bottom for a full seven inches.

"Then even so slight a girl as Beryl will easily take his Grace's rampant yard, and feel the greatest pleasure as she does so . .

"Our first way to straighten the colon above her rectum will be with this device".

He pulled from his pocket what looked like a string of ivory beads, each about as thick as my little finger, with twine through them.

"When I draw the twine tight . . . As you see: The beads are shaped so they pull themselves firmly into a straight line.

"I slide the string of beads down into this long narrow pouch -which will take the beads as far as we want into the girl's bottom - then pull the twine tight . . .

"Now! We go and start the work!!".

Thursday, May 18, After-Noon

We returned to the room where Beryl was still held upside down, as though her legs were on a table and she was bent over the edge, with her body hanging down towards the floor.

"Now my dear, you are feeling all right, I hope? . . . Good! I will lubricate you again, with plenty of grease on my finger, deep into your bottom to make sure it is slippery inside . . .

"And I slide an oiled tube of beads down into your bottom . . . deep . . . deeeeep . . . deeeeeeep into your bottom . . . so . . and I pull it out again a bit . . then in a little further . . . Feels pleasant, does it not???

"You see, doctor Abercrombie, five inch of the tube-of-beads is inside her. Take away three three quarter inch - the length of her rectum - and it must be one and one quarter inch into the colon above her rectum.

"We always know exactly how far the tube of beads has gone beyond her rectum.

"Now I stop moving the beads . . . and pull the line gently . . gently . . firmly . . harder . . . and harder still . . . . and fasten the line at that length. Then I pull the tube sloooooowly back out of your bottom. There: we can see how much we have straightened the beads in their slippery tube . . .

"Now again . ."

And Dr Yarrow repeated what he had done with the ivory beads. . . again . . and again . . and again . . .

Sliding more and more of the ivory beads into Beryl's bottom each time and pulling the line tighter and tighter to move Beryl's colon towards being straight in line with her rectum.

Young Beryl was slowly becoming more and more excited by the knobby beads in the slippery tube being slid in and out of her bottom.

Dr Yarrow had fastened her thighs wide apart with soft leather straps, and had left her hands free to do with them what she liked, and she liked very much to do with them . . .

She was rubbing her fingers on her cunnie as the bumpy tube full of beads was pushed into her bottom, the line tightened to partly straighten the string of beads, and pulled out again . . .

Dr Yarrow needed Beryl's muscles to be relaxed and free of all tension for the beads to have their greatest effect on straightening her colon . .

And Beryl's fingers on her little cunnie were doing exactly that: relaxing all muscles . . . until she finally bucked and squirmed and wriggled as a shattering climax swept over her whole frame (for the second time that day!)

Beryl shouted her joyful ecstasy moaning and jerking frantically. . . then finally collapsed as though unconscious.

While Beryl lay still and unmoving, Dr Yarrow uncased his rectascope and warmed it in water, then greased it and slid the polished glass rod sloooowly down into Beryl's rectum to check the walls for signs of strain . . .

He nodded his head, satisfied:

"All good! We will stop there for today".

We rolled Beryl so she sat upright again, and released her.

"Mistress Hilda, please give her the same three large clysters tomorrow morning, They distend her colon and will make it easier to move.

"I will return again at nine o'clock, and we will use other wayes.

"Good night and sleep well!".

And he left with Dr Abercrombie, for us to clean up Beryl and everything else.

Jane was most helpful: she had been greatly impressed by Doctor Yarrow and his dexterity in sliding the tube of beads into Beryl's bottom and out again . . .

I believe she came to think of herself as the one who was getting a slippery tube of knobby beads pushed in and out of her own bottom, until she collapsed in helpless orgasm . . .

Jane fetched evening meals for Beryl and me on a tray, which we ate together sitting by the fire, talking little.

Jane also went and supervised the children's meals in the nursery as I wanted to be with Beryl while she recovered and prepared for an early bed.

I tucked Beryl up in her bed with a kiss, and ten minutes later she was sound asleep.

Jane had put the children to bed, still in disgrace from Giles' outrageous behaviour, "fisting" Beryl's bottom, punching his sharp knobby little fist up inside her bottom, again . . . and again . . . and again . . . to Beryl's unbounded pleasure and eventual orgasm . . .

I saw that they slept before bidding Jane a very good night and telling her to light our fire at six and bring breakfast for us so we have plenty of time for Beryl's three large clysters, one soapy and two of warm clear water . . before the doctors come at nine o'clock to continue their manipulations of Beryl's bottom.

I had arranged for another maid to look after the children, to get them up and washed and dressed and fed, before taking them for a day outside with a picnic lunch in the park.

And so to bed, my diary written for this extraordinary day, and myself exhausted with a pleasantly aching and painful bottom from Dr Abercrombie's caning . . .

Beryl Graduates

Beryl and I had both slept the sleep of the just . . .

We broke our fast at the table that looks out over the glorious sweep of Richmond Park in the first light of day. Our friends the deer were gracefully feeding in the dappled sunlight; the mothers were suckling their young, as they rammed their mouths hungrily up into the mother's dugs.

We drank milk ourselves, and ate bread and honey. Beryl was staring thoughtfully out of the window as she munched.

At last she said:

"Mistress Hilda can I ask a question please?"

"Yes, Beryl, of course you can! Whether I can answer it is another thing".

"Well, Sir Thomas and his Grace the Duke both put their . . . things in my mouth until they got stiff, then the doctor measured their stiff . . things.

"Now doctor Yarrow keeps measuring how far he can push something up inside my bottom, and is trying to make it go further.

"Mistress Hilda, are Sir Thomas and his Grace going to push their stiff . . things . . up inside my bottom?"

She had guessed!! What to say?? I decided to trust her . . .

"Well . . er . . when they do that, it will give you the most lovely feeling, Beryl! I only wished they wanted to do it to me . . .

"Please don't tell anyone that I told you, though . . . It could get me into bad trouble".

"Like the trouble you got into yesterday when you told Giles to put his fist up into my bottom? I liked that . . . I hope the doctor didn't hurt you too much with the caning he gave you".

And the naughty girl giggled to my face in a conspiratorial way!!

"You mind your manners . . . and mind your own business, Miss . . Just don't tell anyone what I've let you know, Or I'll never let you into any secrets again, ever!"

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be rude, Mistress Hilda! When they push their stiff . . things . . into my bottom, will it hurt a lot?"

"Don't keep calling it a Thing, Beryl. Men call it a Yard. Though it's not as nearly as long as that really: They just like to think it is. It's really only about six or seven inches . . .

"And, it will feel wonderful for you, if they do it right, and I'm sure they will. They'll spend a long time with grease on a finger pressing it on the hole in your bottom, until the finger just slides easily up into you.

"Then they may do the same with a thumb until that slides easily in and out of your bottom, too.

"Last of all, he will probably have you lie flat on the bed maybe with a pillow under your tummy while he lies on top of you and slides his stiff yard, well greased, up up up into your lovely soft warm bottom, Beryl.

"You'll love it, Beryl . . . it will give you a most gorgeous feeling that goes right through you, Beryl!!!

"And don't forget to tell him that you like it; men want to hear that you enjoy what they are doing to you while they are actually doing it".

"I said he will probably lay you face down flat on the bed, but men sometimes prefer you to be bending over, touching your toes or bent over the edge of a table or the back of a chair when they first go into you.

"It can make it easier for him to slide his stiff yard all the way right up into you the very first time he does it.

"While he is sliding his yard in and out of you to get his excitement, don't forget to rub your cunnie with your hand to get your own pleasure, Beryl . . . Just like you did yesterday while doctor Yarrow was pulling the beads in and out of your bottom.

"You liked that, didn't you Beryl?!"

"Mistress Hilda. Thank you so very much for telling me all this!"

And the dear girl came around the breakfast table and gave me a big hug and a kiss . . .

"You will make sure they do things right, won't you, so they don't hurt me, dear Mistress Hilda!"

"I can't promise they'll always let me be there, but I'll do all I can, dear Beryl".

I put my hand up under her nightdress and gave her soft warm bottom an affectionate squeeze:

"Now, off to remove your nightdress and bend over the edge of the table ready for your clysters. I am to pump three into you of a gallon each, the doctor said, just like yesterday, one soapy and two of clear warm water, and each one a full Imperial gallon".

And I did that with Jane's help, just like yesterday, so when the doctors came at nine she was clean and smelled lovely . . . and sitting naked on the inversion seat, ready.

After a brief "Good day to you all", Doctor Yarrow fitted the platform above Beryl's thighs and made sure the support pads fitted right on her shoulders, then we rolled the seat to invert her.

Just as yesterday, we put the chocks in place, removed the top part of the wheels with the seat, and strapped Beryl's thighs in place, well apart, so she could play with her cunnie if she was so minded . . .

Doctor Yarrow did most of the talking as he ran his hands lightly and sensuously over the lovely bottom facing up at him with her coral rosebud sweetly waiting:

"We always start, doctor Abercrombie, with a careful examination using the optical rectascope", which he then did.

"Now, I insert this ring to hold her anus open a little more than half an inch . . . Being inverted, her innards pull down away from her hole, and this makes a narrow gaping cavern of her rectum . . .

"You focus the light carefully, doctor Abercrombie, and you see straight down through the narrow tube of her rectum to the entrance to the colon beyond it, without any optical instrument: Take my mirror and try it".

"Ah! Yeeees! And I see the colon, going off to our left".

"Indeed! Our work yesterday began the straightening . . Today we will use the direct approach . . .

"We want seven inches, so we use this ivory rod of seven inches, half inch across, rounded at the lower end, a hole for a peg to fit in the top end . . . grease it . . . and slide it dooooown into her bottom.

"See! Nearly four inch stays sticking out . . . Now, I put a weight on top . . . two pounds to start. The weight is flat like a book and fits on the rod to stand on its edge.

"This may be heavy enough to secure our objective if we simply leave it . . . and enjoy a dish of tea by the fire . . . Jane, please be good enough to pour it for us - a little milk and two spoons of honey for me, please.

"My dear, you will help if you try to push the ivory rod out of your bottom. Thrust like when you shit . .

"Puuuuuush...

"There, you see the rod moves up; now let it fall quickly back, deep into your bottom again.

"And again . . . And again . . . Good, the rod will slowly work its way down further into your bottom . . .

"Just keep doing that . . . good!"

The doctors sat beside the fire for their tea, while I lowered myself to a cushion on the floor at Beryl's head between the two wood wheels so I might talk with her and relieve her loneliness.

"Beryl, how are you feeling with every one's attention on your bottom? (I tried to make light of the situation . .) Are you fairly comfortable?"

"Thank you, Mistress Hilda. And thank you for coming down to speak with me . . .

"Do you think I will be like this for long? The thing in my bottom does not hurt at all, it feels rather nice pressing down in there, really, and I can get it to move up and down like the doctor said!"

"I have no idea how long the doctor needs you like this: Let's recite nursery rhymes to pass the time . . . as long as you keep pushing on the rod in your bottom, as he told you!

"I'll start:

"London bridge is burning down,
Burning down, burning down.
London bridge is burning down, My fair lady".

"A ring a ring of roses,
A pocket full of posies.
Atishoo! Atishoo!
We all fall down.

"And everyone falls on the floor. I like that one!", said Beryl.

And on we went with one rhyme after another.

Beside the fire, doctor Yarrow was talking:

"I obtained the ivory beads that we used yesterday from a ship's doctor who had journeyed to China. In the Emperor's courts, young girls are prized per anum as sensuously unparalleled.

"They are prepared in the way we are doing at about age seven and the beads alone are adequate. The seven year old girl can then take the full yard of a full-grown man into her bottom, and to her mighty great pleasure!"

And on with much more improper talk, I thought.

Friday, May 19, Noon

After some hour of talk and tea drinking by the fire, doctor Yarrow called doctor Abercrombie to accompany him and came over to Beryl, whom I had been encouraging in her efforts to thrust the ivory rod, with its two pound weight, up from her bottom, then let it slide quickly back down again . . .

"How are you doing, my dear? All right I hope? . . . . Good!

"Now let's see how far the ivory rod is now sinking down into your bottom . . . Thrust it up one more time, then let it slide back down into your bottom again so I can see you do it".

Beryl thrust upwards valiantly, so the ivory rod rose a full inch with its two pound weight perched on top like a book on its edge.

"Hmmmmm. Just a little further in . . .

"Let me consult with you both in the other room".

And we followed him out to Beryl's room:

"Listen carefully, please!

"If we add more weight to the two pounds already pressing the rod down into her rectum, we run great risk of straining the wall.

"But in my experience, we may be able to straighten her colon very quickly, without the use of additional weights".

"Mistress Hilda, I am going to bolt a guard that fits over the weight so no one can hit it - that is why the weight is flat like a book.

"Then I want you to apply a cane briskly to her bottom, six times below the guard, where her bottom meets her thighs, then six times above the guard, then six more below the guard, and so on, until I tell you to stop . . .

"Make the caning a complete surprise and do it hard to get the greatest effect: hide the cane from her sight so she has no idea what is about to happen.

"Her surprise and sudden pain may jolt her enough to un-moor the colon from inside her bottom.

"Let us go back now and surprise her".

We went back into the room with Beryl, and doctor Yarrow took the wooden guard from his box, and bolted it over the protruding rod with its lead weight on top, so I could not possibly strike the weight when I caned her bottom.

I had taken a willow cane from the jar and concealed it in the folds of my dress so Beryl would not see it and placed myself ready to beat her with it, hard, on her unsuspecting bottom . . .

Doctor Yarrow nodded to me:

SWISSSSH - CRACK went the cane onto Beryl's soft warm bottom.

"AAAAAAAH!!"

SWISSSSH - CRACK it went again.

"AAAAAAAH!! AAAAAAAH!!"

SWISSSSH - CRACK again.

"AAAAAAAH!! AAAAAAAH!! AAAAAAAH!!"

Poor Beryl was completely unprepared for the sudden pain and the fright she got . . .

On and on I went with the caning, and Beryl shuddered violently with every blow. Doctor Yarrow was crouched on the floor to peer inside the guard at the position of the rod in Beryl's bottom

After ten or twelve hard cuts across what had been her ivory-smooth bottom the doctor held up his hand and said:

"Stop! That's enough!!

"The rod has slowly sunk completely down into her bottom!! Get a cloth soaked in cold water to soothe her".

And he quickly removed the wooden guard that ensured that I had not struck the rod or weight with the cane . . .

I cooled poor Beryl's bottom and dried it gently as she sobbed lamentably from our harsh treatment.

Doctor Yarrow lifted the weight and rod from Beryl's bottom and slid his rectascope in to examine the walls of her rectum . . .

And he was now able to slide it in about twice as far as before, a full seven inches, after the ivory rod had sunk so far in . . .

Doctor Abercrombie and I waited anxious for his verdict, Beryl still sobbing her heart out - Had we pierced Beryl's colon with the ivory rod??

If we had, she was now in most serious trouble with an internal perforation . . .

But his smile told us everything: good news!

"She is lovely and straight now!!!

"We will return her to an upright position as quickly as we can", which he did, and released Beryl from the "inversion seat".

"Enough for today . . .

"Beryl, I want you to lie on a couch for the rest of today, and an early night to bed.

"Mistress Hilda, do you treat with this laudanum ointment inside her colon as well as the sore welts on her bottom from the cane.

"No clyster tomorrow - Beryl has had enough clean-out for a week! Just ordinary washing with cloth and warm water, like every day.

"And we will see you again at nine o'clock in the morning".

In spite of her tears, Beryl managed to say:

"Good night, doctor Yarrow, and thank you kindly!", which a most pleasant surprise to both the doctors.

"It has been our great pleasure to serve you, young Miss",

And they turned to smile at her as they left the room . . .

I pulled the couch over to the window so Beryl would be able to look out again at Richmond Park and Jane and I helped her over to lie down peacefully for the afternoon . . .

She refused lunch and slept until two o'clock . . .

Saturday, May 20, Morning

The two doctors, Abercrombie and Yarrow, arrived promptly at nine o'clock just as they'd promised.

"Good morning! Beryl, I want you once more in the inversion seat. But this is going to be an easy morning for you".

And we soon had Beryl with her clothes off and naked again, upside down and strapped in place with her lovely creamy-white bottom and pink lips facing upwards.

Beryl was held completely helpless, with no way to protect herself from anything the doctors might take it into their heads to do to her cunnie or her bottom . . .

But on this morning, they had said things would be easy for her.

"Beryl, the start of your colon is now in line with your rectum.

"We wish you to get used to holding inside your bottom something solid but flexible that is about seven inches long.

"I have a long pork sausage here, about as thick as my little finger, that has been made in the kitchens specially for you, and I am warming it in hot water.

"The outer skin is pig's intestine, in the usual way, so it will slide into your bottom very smoothly".

"I want you to keep the sausage right up inside your bottom all day, whatever you are doing . . .

"We will use the twine on the end of the sausage to pull it out again, later this afternoon when we return. But you will likely be able to shit it out for yourself.

"Now, you are going to find it excites you to walk around with something like this inside your bottom . . . That doesn't matter and you can frig yourself as much as you want.

"If you want a really exciting experience, my dear, I recommend the children's rocking horse!!"

"Your bottom will try to shit the sausage out from time to time.

"Don't let it happen!!!

"Push it back up into your bottom with a finger, if you need, but do not let that sausage come out of your bottom until I see you again this afternoon!"

"It should be warm by now . . . I'll grease your bottom inside so it will go in easy".

And he used the pork fat I had got from the kitchens on his finger.

"There . . . I can't reach any further . . .

"The sausage itself will carry the grease further . . .

"I grease the sausage too . . . and press the warm round end against your hole . . . and press down while I rock the sausage from side to side, back to front . . .

"And theeeeeere it goes . . . sliiiiiding down down down into your bottom . . . aaaaaaall the way in . . . . Until your lips close over the end, and all seven inches of the sausage are inside your bottom, with your lips closed over the end, and you'll keep the seven inch sausage inside you until I come back this afternoon and see you again".

"Let us now release you from the inversion seat and you can start to move around as though nothing unusual was going on inside you.

"We will see you again about four o'clock".

And the doctors left.

I led Beryl, walking cautiously, over to her seat at the table by the window, while Jane and I cleaned up everything in the room.

Beryl stood up and sat down again several times, more and more quickly . . . then sat still without moving.

By this time, Jane had left the room, and Beryl said:

"The doctor is right . . . it is exciting!"

"Mistress Hilda, can I go and try the children's rocking horse like the doctor said?"

"I'll have Jane take the children out to the park first. Just wait there a moment, Beryl".

Ten minutes later, I returned and said:

"Best remove your cloathes, Beryl, so we can see all that is happening".

I did help her undress, then I beckoned to her and she did walk ahead of me to the nursery, walking slowly with the cheeks of her bottom clenched together.

By the rocking horse she raised her leg to put it up over the rocking horse, then gasped and clapped her hand to her bottom.

"I near lost it then!"

I went to her, and used my hand pressed firmly into her bottom to hold the long sausage inside while she got herself up, and she gasped loud again as she lowered herself down into the leather saddle.

"It pushes a very long way in as I sit down on the saddle . . .

"And it does give a strange feel . . .

"It's nice!"

And she cautiously began to rock the horse, with her feet in the stirrups and swaying her body back and forward to make the horse move:

"Ohhhh! Ohhhh! It can feel it moving up inside me each time I lean back. Ohhhh! Ohhhh!"

and Beryl started to squirm and snake her hips around on the saddle and soon became red in the face and started to moan and groan until she was in an ecstasy of bouncing her bottom up and down in the saddle of the rocking horse until I feared she would break it . . .

Of a sudden her body went rigid, her legs stiff and straight, while a primitive growl came from deep in her throat like I had never heard her before.

Then she sank down in the saddle and slumped her shoulders: her climax had passed . . .

After Beryl began to move again, I helped her to slide down out of the saddle with my hand clasped firmly into her bottom, and as the end of the sausage began to poke out of her, pushed it gently back up inside, which made her moan once more as she sat herself careful in her chair.

"Ohhhhh! That's wonderful!!! I could keep doing this all day!!!!"

"Listen, Beryl, If a thin sausage feels so exciting, just imagine what it will be like as Sir Thomas or his Grace slides his yard up into your soft warm bottom until your two cheeks are flat hard against him and he can push no further up into you . . .

"You only have a thin sausage inside your bottom now, but the men's yards are much thicker and they will feel heavenly when they are far up inside you and you are bringing such joy to the man who holds you, as well as to yourself.

"Do no more today that would excite you, or you will not so much enjoy what you do tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow?! You know?? You're sure it'll be tomorrow???"

"I'm not sure . . . but the children and all the servants will be at church, and what better time could there be for Sir Thomas and his Grace to enjoy the first fruits of all the care and expense they have been to on your account?!"

"Oh! Mistress Hilda! I do hope so . . . It will be wonderful!"

"I expect they will want me to cane you first, just as I do for m'Lady Cynthia, so it is easy for them to enter you!".

"That will make it even more wonderful, Mistress Hilda.

"You will cane me well, won't you?!

"Ohhhh! I can hardly wait . . .

"I am so excited!!"

"Best to stay very quiet for the rest of today, then, so you are rested and fresh to enjoy yourself, and to bring them great joy too, tomorrow!"

"I will sit quietly here and read a book. Can I start "The History of England" by Mr. Goldsmith, please, the one you said I should read?"

"I'll get you the first volume from the nursery, if you promise to sit quietly for the rest of the day, Beryl".

And Beryl sat reading, except to eat a light luncheon that I had ordered, giggling at some of the things said in the book, until the doctors returned at four o'clock.

The doctors Abercrombie and Yarrow came again as promised, exactly at four o'clock:

"Well! How has the patient been, Mistress Hilda?!"

"Quiet and well-behaved, doctor!"

"Come, I need your clothes off and to have you in the inverter seat again".

Beryl undressed, as she was so used to doing now for the doctors - she *did* move so gracefully and without self-consciousness even when stark naked and without clothes, and trying to keep a seven inch sausage up in her bottom without clasping her hand there - and sat herself on the seat.

We rolled her over and Doctor Yarrow took the twine that came out of Beryl's bottom, and gently pulled at it:

"Let your bottom open to release the long sausage that has been up there inside you all day, my dear . .

"Thaaaaaat's it . . . . ooooout it all comes!

"Now we will examine you to make sure there has been no strain on the walls of your rectum", and both doctors in turn slid the glass rod of the rectascope slowly down into Beryl's bottom as they carefully examined her.

At last doctor Abercrombie had finished his examination and said:

"I find no redness or sign of stress anywhere inside her rectum".

"Indeed we are agreed on that! Tell me, Mistress Hilda" said doctor Yarrow, "Did the patient complain at any time during the day of discomfort due to the very long object in her rectum?"

"She made no complaint, doctor Yarrow!

"On the contrary, she did rather seem to enjoy it".

"Then let us revert her to the upright position and release her from the seat!"

When this was done:

"Mistress Hilda, I am about to inform Sir Thomas that we have completed our work here, and Beryl is now prepared ready for him and his friend the Duke.

"You have been a very good patient, my dear, and I will be sure to let Sir Thomas know it:

"We have done in only three days what sometimes takes fourteen!"

"I will send my man for the equipment.

"I bid you both farewell, with every good wish for your futures.

"It has been most pleasant to serve you".

And with this pretty speech, he bowed and both doctors left us.

I was left alone with Beryl, wondering exactly what was to happen next . . .

We did not have long to wait - Jane entered saying:

"Sir Thomas would like to see you in the Library, Mistress Hilda".

"Stay with Beryl while I go down, Jane. I do not want her left alone at any time".

I returned to Beryl in less than half an hour and dismissed Jane:

"We guessed correctly, Beryl!!

"At ten o'clock tomorrow I am to take you to see Sir Thomas down in the gun-room.

"And I'm to have you washed and clean, inside as well as out!

"Let us go early to bed after our supper tonight, for I must give you a clyster in the morning.

And we were both asleep early that night, much excited by what the morrow might bring . . .

Beryl Pleasured

Sunday, May 21, My Morning

Awake early and excited about our call to visit the gun-room at ten o'clock!

We took our simple breakfast at first light as we sat at the table that looks out over Richmond Park. We saw hedgehogs and rabbits there with the birds and the deer this Sunday morning. And all was peaceful.

I gave Beryl a clyster of only a quarter gallon as there was no purpose to distend her inside today; In fact, the less distended she be, the more strongly will her narrow rectum need to be stretched all along its length to admit a rampant yard, and the more tightly will it grip the yard up in there . . to increase the ecstasy . . . for both Beryl and the man.

At half past nine o'clock we heard the church bell start to toll and we saw the servants leaving the house with the children, walking towards the distant church.

Poor Beryl could hardly keep still in her excitement, but at last the clock above the stable struck ten, and we took the back stairs down to the gun room . . .

As we stood outside the door, in some trepidation:

"Mistress Hilda, do you think it will be very big?"

"You should know, you silly girl!

"You've had them both in your mouth! . . (smiling) . .

"Now, shussh!!".

I knocked at the heavy oak door: Sir Thomas called us to enter.

The gun-room was quite small, but the sun shone brightly in. The walls were lined with muskets and there were machines to make shot cartridges.

The room was sometimes used to sleep a visiting bachelor and there was a simple bed, (which had a sheet on over the blankets, I saw), and wash-hand basin and pisspot as well as a table and sundry chairs.

Sir Thomas and his Grace stood together and Sir Thomas said:

"Hah! Beryl!! Come here my girl!!!

"I have been hearing most disturbing stories about you, Beryl, from my children, who let out that Giles had his fist up inside your bottom . . .

"It sounds absolutely disgraceful, and I can not imagine why you failed to stop him!"

"Please sir . . ."

"Don't interrupt and don't try to make excuses girl!!!

"Mistress Hilda here is going to punish you soundly for your wanton disregard to the morals of my dear children . . .

"First she will blindfold you . . . .

"Then she will strip you naked, Beryl, so you have no shred of clothing and she will lay you full length face down on the bed, with a pillow under your middle so your bottom is raised, the better to beat it . . .

"and she will tie your hands and ankles securely to the bed frame".

"Mistress Hilda will take this wooden paddle and give you twenty of the best . . . just as I saw her do it in the Great Orfanage.

"And I want you to count, Beryl, and say after each stroke: "One, Mistress Hilda, thank you!", and so on.

"Right, Mistress Hilda, have at her!!!"

and I began poor Beryl's slow and painful punishment . . . for the fault that I myself had committed . . .

Her lovely pale white cheeks flattened then bobbed and bounced with each stroke of the wooden paddle as she counted and sobbed at each blow while her bottom became more and more red.

Her legs were tied well apart . . . and I could see her excited wetness running down onto the bed sheet.

The spanking was awakening Beryl's most primitive desires . . .

At last I finished as Beryl croaked out: "Twenty, Mistress Hilda, thank you, Mistress Hilda!!" and sobbed deeply and without stopping . . .

"And thank YOU, Mistress Hilda", from Sir Thomas.

"Now I wish you to accompany me next door, Mistress Hilda",

and I knew I was about to get my punishment for Giles being found with his fist inside Beryl's bottom.

Sunday, May 21, Beryl's Morning

My diary has left Beryl, after I had spanked her with the paddle, naked and tied face down with a pillow under her middle on the bed in the gun room, alone with his Grace the Duke of D----

She told me later what happened while Sir Thomas was having his way with me in the tack room:

The eleven year old Beryl felt a rough hand lightly stroking her bottom, sore after her twenty strokes from my paddle . . .

"Please, your Grace, will you please take off my blindfold so I see you?

"Sir Thomas left with Mistress Hilda; it must be you and I would dearly like the pleasure to be able see you this time as you have your way with me! Please Sir!!"

"Very well my dear! Who could resist such a charming request?!

"There!! Is that better?"

"Yes your Grace! Thank you, your Grace!

"Your yard was measured after I had made it stiff with my lips. I went to bed later with your milk dribbling from my mouth and I can feel its wonderful taste still!

"Doctor Yarrow has spent several days making my bottom so I am able to take your stiff yard in me.

"Can you slide your stiff yard up into my bottom now your Grace?

"Please! I would so like that!!"

"Yes, my dear. That is indeed what I had planned, but I had hardly expected such a warm invitation. I am most touched.

"I don't suppose you have ever seen a man naked before? Still less with a raging erection?"

"No sir, but I would love to see yours, your Grace . . .

"Ohhhh! That is wonderfully big . . . I so liked having it in my mouth . . . That will feel lovely inside my bottom . . .

"Will it really go in?

"But first please untie my arms and legs: I promise nothing is further from my intentions than to try and run away. I have nowhere in the World to run to . . . . . . . .

"But I would dearly like to feel free, not tied as though forced to do what we are about to do together, Sir".

"Yes, indeed I will untie you my dear Beryl".

"Thank you, your Grace, thank you very much"

"We will do it gently, my dear Beryl.

"No hurry . . .

"Let me stroke the opening to your beautiful bottom my dear . . There . . I have plenty of grease on my finger . . and I slide it iiiiiin up up up into your lovely bottom.

"That gives you a nice feeling, doesn't it?

"Now my thumb . . and I press that into your soft warm bottom...

"It goes in easy . . Has someone done this already to you today, my dear Beryl?"

"Yes, your Grace . . . Mistress Hilda did, in case you forgot!"

"That was most thoughtful of her! And I think we are ready now".

And his Grace got up from sitting beside Beryl on the bed, removed all his clothes and lay on top of her, feeling very heavy to her and squashing flat her painful bottom.

Beryl felt his stiff yard press like a battering ram at the hole in her bottom, then start to slide slooooowly up up up into her . . .

She tells me it felt wonderful, exciting, like nothing ever before . . and he took so long, pulling out and pushing in, that she felt nothing but the greatest pleasure from it . . . until he was completely inside her bottom, pressing hard against her painful cheeks and making her bottom feel as full as it could be . . .

They lay for a long time like this, she says, with his full weight pressing down on her and his rampant yard pushed far up inside her bottom.

"You grip me so warm and tight, dear Beryl, I must not move for fear I ejaculate and losing everything . . .

"Please lie perfectly still. How often have you done this before, dear Beryl? Ten or twenty times . . . ?"

"Never ever before, your Grace . . .

"It gives a wonderful feeling that goes right up through me . .

"May I move a little now, please, your Grace?"

"Just a little, Beryl dear. Try it gently . . ."

And Beryl bent her eleven year old bottom up towards him, so his yard went even further into her . . .

and down again, so it pulled out slightly . . .

"Ohhh! Stop! no more!! Or I'll lose all . . ."

After a minute or two:

"You feel lovely pressing down on top of me with all your weight

"Will you let me call you a name like Jack or Jim? 'Your Grace' doesn't sound right for someone I am fond of!"

"While we are alone Beryl, call me John. I'd like that, Beryl!"

"Thank you, John". (And Beryl wriggled her bottom a little).

"Ohhhh! Beryl!!"

"I do like feeling your stiff yard right up inside my bottom, John! I wish we could stay like this for ever . . ."

"Hmmmmm! Perhaps . . . Sometime . . . Who knows . . .

"Beryl, I'll lift my weight a little, so you can raise your chest . . . I'd like to feel your tiny breasts . . . They're the breasts of an angel, Beryl . . ."

And Beryl giggled with pleasure, a thing she had never ever done before in a man's arms . . .

"I like that! Giggle again", as he dug his fingers in gently.

"You are dear sweet girl, Beryl love. Did you know that?"

"No one ever told me that before, John.

"You are nice. I'm truly fond of you . . .

"It's nothing to do with you being a rich and powerful Duke, John. I just like you very very much . . .

"Is that all right, John? You don't mind me being fond of you, do you?"

"Dear Beryl! Yes, it's very all right!!

"Now I can't wait any longer . . . You excite me beyond control, my lovely Beryl, I have to spend myself . . ."

And John pulled his rampant yard out of Beryl's bottom about four inches; thrust it slooooowly back in again; out; thrust sloooowly back in . . .

Then Beryl felt the squirts of his hot juices shooting up inside her tummy, again and again and again, just as he had felt in her mouth before . . .

"Ooooh! John! Ooooh! John!! Ooooh! John!!!"

. . . . as she shuddered and jerked in her climax.

"Beryl my sweet angel!!"

And they lay unmoving, locked together for what seemed to her an age.

Sunday, May 21, Evening

Beryl and I spent a very quiet afternoon, lying on couches and watching the carriages promenade in the park while the fashionable world disported itself . .

Beryl told me everything that had happened after Sir Thomas and I had left her with his Grace the Duke, just as I have written here . . .

Beryl sat reading after our supper together, spending much of the time gazing into space, and I could guess the subject of her day-dreams:

There is an old saw:

"The first yard that taught her, She'll follow thro' Hell and high water!"

And her absent minded gaze told me that sweet Beryl was planning to do exactly that with his Grace as her eyes alternately sparkled and misted over, and her hips gave spasmodic jerks from time to time . . .

We went early to bed and when I looked in her room ten minutes later she was lying asleep, but fitfully jerking like a sleeping dog with exciting dreams . . .

Monday, May 22, Morning

Up betimes, and Beryl has a radiant hue to her cheeks. Her eyes sparkled even more than usual and she went about her chores with a happy air, humming to herself as she did so.

Sir Thomas sent word for me to see him in the library. He informed me that his Grace had left, but would return in a few days.

Further, he wished to see Beryl there in the library at seven o'clock, after his dinner tonight.

She was to wear a simple cotton dress with her usual tight bodice and undergarments, and I was to prepare her in the way I had for his Grace, cleaning her first inside as well as out.

But when I worked my thumb up into her bottom to relax its opening ready for him, I was to use honey instead of grease . . .

"After these preparations, I want you to leave her with me in the library and return to your room. No one is to disturb me!".

"Yes, indeed, Sir Thomas".

and I went back to our wing to tell Beryl of his instructions.

We had only a light repast that evening, before I gave Beryl a simple cleansing clyster: only a quart, three times over, until the water poured from her crystal clear.

I then had Beryl bend over the edge of the table while I gently rubbed her bottom hole with honey on my fingers... I spat a lot on my fingers too, to make then slide into her bottom the more easily.

A long time I spent, gently relaxing her tight entrance with honey ready to receive Sir Thomas' manhood.

After this, his rampant yard would start in easy, but its passage on up into her lovely soft warm bottom would need him to slowly stretch the size of her narrow and elastik rectum for every little part of its length until he was fully inside her bottom, which will hold his thick penis so tight as to suck the very semen from his loins . . .

The effects of this rubbing of mine would enable easy entry of Beryl's bottom, I knew, for a full two hours afterwards.

I helped her put on her white dress carefully, and to brush her hair until it shone. As she stood ready to go down, Beryl looked a perfect picture of pale girlish beauty, with her tall slender build and her bottom jutting out behind and shown to advantage by the tight bodice above it.

Her long fair hair flowed in natural waves down to her shoulders held only by a plain red ribbon at the nape of her neck . . .

She practiced two or three curtsies before we set off down the back stairs to the library, Beryl telling me she was anxious as this was to be her testing time after Sir Thomas had spent such a considerable sum in having her prepared for his pleasure . . .

As we approached the door of the library, I squeezed her hand and whispered that I was sure she would delight him, then knocked.

"Come in!!", his gruff voice called . .

I held the opened the door for Beryl, and followed her in . . .

Sir Thomas was standing at the large table with books spread over it and turned to take in the girl before him . . . and Beryl dropped him a deep and respectful curtsy while giving her angelic demure smile, with cast-down eyes . . .

The effect on him of this bridal vision was of joy unparalleled. His face flushed as he said:

"Beryl, turn slowly round so I may see every side of you . . .

"Thank you, Mistress Hilda. You have groomed Beryl well!

"You may leave us now . . and close the door as you go, please!"

I heard him saying as I left;

"I would like to show you some of these old books of pictures, Beryl, come over here to the table . . ."

For the rest, I recount what Beryl told me afterwards . . .

The books had colored pictures like the punishment rooms at the Great Orfanage with bare-bottomed girls being spanked lying flat on a table or bent over the end of it;

Uncloathed girls were being spanked with a man's hand, with a woman's hand, with a wooden paddle, with a strap, with a cane... and Beryl found these all strangely exciting to her . . .

But most thrilling of all, she found, was the page with the picture of a naked girl, her hands tied to a bar above head, being flicked with a cane on her well-rounded bottom by a handsome young woman . . . and the girl's legs were dancing in the air with pain as the cane cut into her striped, scarlet cheeks, and her eyes sparkled deliriously . . .

As Beryl gazed at this picture her chest began to heave with excitement and Sir Thomas said:

"Bend further over the table, Beryl, so you see the book closer, and hold the far side of the table firmly with your hands.

"I am going to raise your skirt, and lower your drawers to the floor . . . now step out of them, and put your legs wide apart.

"I am going to spank your lovely bottom with my bare hand".

Sir Thomas' hand thumped into Beryl's cheeks with sounds like thunder-claps, they were so hard . . .

Beryl gazed at the book as she was being spanked and imagined she was the girl in the picture dancing with the flick of a cane on her bottom, while her cunnie was rammed into the table at every THUMP of Sir Thomas' heavy hand, and she got more and more excited . . .

Then Sir Thomas stopped his spanking, saying:

"That's made your bottom nicely red! Just stay holding the table, Beryl . . ."

And she saw him kneel on the carpet behind her then felt his face press into her bottom with his tongue licking around her rosebud while his hands reached up to her breasts and opened her bodice to fondle her soft little breasts.

He gently squeezed and rubbed her titties driving her to exquisite delight and making them go hard as nails. Then a hand descended to her cunnie and fondled her there . . .

It felt to Beryl's delight as though Sir Thomas was sucking the insides of her bottom out through her hole . . . and gently nibbling on her innards with his teeth . . .

She was squirming and wriggling in her ecstasy, when Sir Thomas at last pulled his tongue back out of her bottom still dripping from the thick coating of honey inside there and raised himself from the floor to stand behind her.

His trousers fell to the ground and she felt his stiff yard, just like the night when she had taken it in her mouth, but this time it pressed at her bottom, impossibly large, as big and stiff as a club and demanding entrance.

Sir Thomas was rocking from side to side until his huge weapon -four inches around, she remembered the doctor had said - began to sliiiide into her bottom as smooth as could be . . . and feeling heavenly, as his truncheon gradually wormed its way up into her, bit by bit, slooooooowly stretching her narrow elastik rectum to take his bulging penis.

From time to time, Sir Thomas pulled his swollen yard a little out of her bottom, then thrust it back up into her bottom again, inexorably, to work his rigid member even further into her inviting derriere as it bent for him over the edge of the table.

Beryl in her seventh Heaven, made sweet moan . . . and turned her head over her shoulder to look Sir Thomas in the face and said:

"Oooooh! Sir Thomas, that gives the most wonderful feeling that goes right up through me!!!"

"My angel!" he said, and kissed the back of her neck long and lingering, to show his affection for the lovely young girl whose bottom he had impaled on his rampant yard.

Then Sir Thomas stood upright, with his raging erection yet only part-way into her sweet bottom:

"What I treasure most, dear Beryl, and I will remember until my dying day, is the sight of your lovely bottom as it takes my life into its sweet depths, sliding between your heavenly orbs, parting your coral lips and up . . up . . up into my lovely Beryl to make us one together.

"Was ever a sight so beautiful?!"

And he held Beryl firmly by her young hips as he continued to thrust, then pull out a little; thrust, and pull out a little. . . slowly, gently stretching her tight elastik rectum to take the full length of the joy of his life, with deep groans of bliss as he did pleasure them both . . .

Beryl began to tilt her hips up and down in time with his thrusts to help the slow progress of his yard into her sweet girlish bottom, showing her delight at its entry with gasps of pleasure and primitive lust.

After what seemed to her an eternity Sir Thomas was at last as far as he could go into her bottom and pressing himself hard against her soft warm cheeks, still tender and sore from his spanking . . .

He held her tight by the waist, pulling her hard back against his fearsome weapon, now further up inside her than his Grace the Duke had ever penetrated . . .

And they stopped thus for an age in heavenly delight, not moving, as Sir Thomas willed himself to hold his climax in spite of the seductive effect of her warm tight bottom on his rigid erection and her soft silky cheeks pressing against his pelvis.

He kissed her creamy neck again and again and again, burying his face in her long sweet-smelling hair . . .

In the end, though, he could hold himself no longer and stood to pull his weapon from her, once, for about five inches before watching as his rampant yard slid back up into her bottom one last time as he finally released a mighty jet of hot semen up into her depths and held her to him as she shouted her joy and wriggled and pushed her squirming bottom hard back against him..

The Duke is Beastly to Beryl

Tuesday, May 23, 1780

I had Jane look after the children for the day, as I did not want to leave Beryl on her own after her experiences of the previous night . . .

She was greatly fatigued from her evening with Sir Thomas and wanted to do little more than sit by the window all day, telling me of their doings the night before . . . from which I wrote the account here.

From time to time she lapsed into silence, staring out the window, then waxed sentimental about Sir Thomas, saying she had grown very fond of him.

I reminded her again, most firmly:

"People like you and me, Beryl, don't like or dislike Sir Thomas or the Duke or m'Lady Cynthia . . . We just do what *they* want, and we do it as well as we possibly can . . .

"We are servants, Beryl, and we serve them . . . Try not to let yourself feel affection for any of your masters, because when they get bored with you and want a change you will likely be badly hurt, or worse".

This reproof brought tears to her eyes, and I am sure the dear sweet girl was indeed beginning to feel strong affections for the two men who had shown such tenderness towards her, she who at eleven had never before known any man's love.

The day without incident enabled me to complete my diary, for which I was most thankful . . .

Wednesday, May 24

His Grace the Duke of D---- returned in the late afternoon. This caused much bustle and commotion downstairs, as his Grace had brought some pets with him in crates and they had to be seen to the stables with full instructions to the grooms on their care:

"No food for the dog!", I heard him shout, "Raw meat for the other!!"

Word came that I was to prepare Beryl so she could appear before them in the library after their dinner, at seven o'clock . . . and I set to, with clyster and bath tub, to prepare her as I had for Sir Thomas on Monday evening . . .

I had no idea whether Sir Thomas planned to take Beryl, while his Grace had his way with me, or what they proposed at all . . . So I prepared myself also, to be ready.

When I knocked at the library door, and opened it, both men sat before the fire with port wine and tobacco pipes lit. They appeared to have imbibed considerably . . .

"Ha!! Mistress Hilda! Bring the miscreant here!! We know that Miss Beryl here has been up to no good!!!

"We want you to have her bend over that table while you raise her skirts, remove her drawers and bare her bottom.

"Then we want to see you use that wooden paddle on her until we tell you to stop. Slow and steady spanking, Mistress Hilda, slow and steady . . ."

And they exchanged looks and took deep draughts from their glasses while I prepared Beryl as Sir Thomas had instructed . . .

Having no specific wrong-doing to lay at Beryl's feet, and no wife around to stop them, they were clearly wanting to be entertained after a good dinner.

Who knew what this might lead to?!

Beryl lay bent over the edge of the same large table as before, grasping the far side in her hands while I slowly raised her skirt and tucked it in her collar then lowered her drawers to bare her lovely bottom . . .

"Take her drawers off . . right away from her . . That's right.. Now stand this side first as you paddle her lovely round bottom. Isn't it beautiful, John?"

"A sight for the angels, Tom!"

"Right, slow and steady now, Mistress Hilda!!

"Beryl, I want you to count: 'One, Mistress Hilda, thank you . .' and so on . . .

"Go to it, Hilda!!"

I knew exactly how hard to paddle Beryl so it would excited her without being too painful or giving lasting bruises, and this I did.

"One . . . Two . . . Three . . . Four . . . Five . . ."

With Beryl counting as she had been told, and crying out and squirming prettily as she had learned at the Great Orfanage . . .

After twenty:

"Now stand over on the other side, Hilda, and keep counting, Beryl - loudly, so we can hear!!"

"Twenty-One . . . Twenty-Two . . . Twenty-Three . . ." and Beryl was sobbing in earnest now . . .

The two men has stood up, the better to see, and their eyes glistened with lust . . .

At "Thirty, Miss Hilda, thank you!":

"I think that's proper preparation now, Hilda. Stop paddling Beryl and help her lie full length on the floor, And I want you to use those soft cords to tie her ankles to the furniture, table leg and sofa leg, to hold her legs wide apart . . .

"Now put these two cushions under her middle so her cunnie is well off the floor . . .

"Good!! Hilda, stand over in that corner and do not move or interfere in any way! Now John, I hand over to you . . ."

His Grace took a long drink from his glass, and I expected him to enter her himself in some unusual way . . . But he opened a box and took from it a pound of bloody meat which he then rubbed all over Beryl's bottom, well down into her cleft and pressed hard into her rosebud, between her legs, and up into her cunnie, the blood of the meat mixing there with the liberal supply of her own juices . . .

His Grace then went through the door into the next room, and returned with a dog trotting beside him on a leash, long tongue lolling out: it was a "retriever" dog, I think, one that runs or swims anywhere to fetch a bird you have shot, fastens the bird firmly in its jaws and brings it to you . . .

This was the one he was shouting about this afternoon: "No food for the dog!"

It must be starving!!

Beryl looked over her shoulder and her face went chalk-white in terror as she realized that the dog would tear her to pieces after the bloody meat had been wiped over all her most tender parts...

The dog sniffed the blood and went straight for Beryl's bottom. She opened her mouth to scream . . . Then her eyes opened wide and she stayed like that for a moment, mouth and eyes wide open in surprise . . .

As the dog had approached Beryl and opened its mouth as to bite her, I saw: It had no teeth!!!

I watched as the dog closed its toothless jaws on her left cheek then deep in her crack then vainly made to bite into Beryl's soft warm bottom every part he could take a into his jaws.

Then the retriever licked up into her cunnie and nibbled down into her rosebud and on . . . and on . . .

Beryl told me after: its tongue went right up into her bottom and lapped around in there, up as far as it could reach . . . looking for food.

Beryl became more and more excited and squirmed and wriggled her bottom in all directions: not to avoid the dog's jaws but because of the great excitement it caused her as it bit and licked all over her bottom and cunnie, biting with its toothless gums . . .

She moaned and groaned and sighed and threw herself around in abandoned ecstasy . . . Until she at last jerked violently against her bonds in a spasm, shouting incoherently, then lay still, after what had clearly been (yet another) climax for this eleven year old virgin orphan whose maidenhead was still intact!

"Hilda, we'll leave you to revive Beryl and take her back upstairs to bed. Thank you for your help this evening . . .

"John, let's take your gum-dog and our port outside while Hilda tidies the room. Most amusing! Most amusing! "Gum-Dog" indeed! Ha! What a magnificent display!!

"Some girls have hysterics as the gum-dog approaches them, did you say? Not surprising, I'm sure . . . must be terrified until they realize the dog has no teeth and is going to pleasure them instead of tear them to shreds.

"Most amusing! Come, we'll go through the French windows to the gardens . . ."

I untied Beryl and let her legs come together again, then slipped her drawers back on and pulled her skirt down before helping her up from the floor and we climbed the back stairs to return to our room next to the nursery . . .

I warmed a little water and cleaned the blood and dog spittle from her bottom and cunnie, then helped her to bed, exhausted.

"Most amusing", indeed!!

I wasn't sure if it had been cruel or, really, an ecstatic experience for Beryl . . .

Saturday, May 27

Beryl and I had been left undisturbed by Sir Thomas and his Grace since our adventure with the retriever dog on Wednesday evening.

This morning, though, Sir Thomas sent for me and told me I was to appear (again) with Beryl in the library after he and his Grace had dined, at seven o'clock, and she was to be prepared as before.

I did not think at the time that she was to be pleasured again by the dog: Now that Beryl knew the dog was toothless, a repeat performance would not be so "amusing" to them . . .

But I cleaned Beryl's bottom again with several quarts of warm water.

When they were voided, I again rubbed in her bottom with honey until my thumb could slide in and out easy, all ready for the Sir Thomas or his Grace . . . or anyone else, to enter . . .

Without in any way wishing to disparage Beryl, I think that, from what I have seen so far, it seems quite immaterial to Beryl who spanks her or enters her: no matter who - she always enjoys it immensely and ends in a delirious climax!

Not that I have anything against the sweet eleven-year-old orphan girl from the Great Orfanage, newly awakening to the thrilling pleasures of her body and the gratification of men's attentions . . .

Perhaps I just wish that I had kept my own innocence until eleven and that my bottom had then been even half so lovely as Beryl's!

But to return to the happenings of the day: we arrived as before at the door of the library, and I knocked . . .

Sir Thomas bade us enter, and we found him and his Grace again in front to the fire, enjoying their port wine and tobacco pipes.

This time, the tall wooden steps used to reach books from the top shelves were standing in the middle of the room, before the fire.

Sir Thomas boisterously called for me to remove Beryl's clothing and tie her wrists to the wooden steps, "in the same manner you tied her at the Great Orfanage, the time when I attended her punishment there".

I was to have her bottom face towards his Grace . . . and use the soft leather straps to tie her - "as we don't want to mark her wrists, ha, ha . . ."

"Mistress Hilda, I want you to show his Grace how you used to punish Beryl when you visited the Great Orfanage with m'Lady Cynthia".

And soon Beryl stood with her hands held above her head, tied to the steps, her tall pale slender body erect with small breasts just starting to sprout, her back bowed in and her young-girl's bottom jutting out ready for punishment . .

Altogether a very lovely sight as she stood ready, waiting in trepidation for the first cut of the cane . . .

I covered Beryl's eyes with a black bandage so she would have no way to tell when the next sharp stinging cut of the cane was about to bury itself in her soft warm bottom.

I commanded:

"Beryl, after the first stroke of the cane you will say: 'One, thank you Mistress Hilda', and so on . . ."

Sir Thomas waved his hand, signaling me to proceed . . .

Twenty cuts of the cane I gave to Beryl's lovely well-rounded bottom, many of the strokes aimed upwards from below her buttocks so she danced, throwing her long legs high in the air trying to diminish the pain . . .

I spaced the strokes with long intervals between, so while Beryl was soon sobbing without pause, I was able to feel with my hand that she had relaxed and her bottom was soft and girlish before for each stroke . . .

I made sure Sir Thomas and his Grace saw as pretty a pageant of spanking as it is possible to provide . . . And they were entranced . . .

After twenty strokes of the cane had given Beryl's bottom an exciting pattern of red wealds, Sir Thomas shouted:

"Enough, Hilda!

"Stop and pause while we contemplate Beryl and her caned bottom".

After some minutes, Beryl ceased to sob.

"Hilda, I want you to untie Beryl's hands and remove the bandage over her eyes . . .

"Now pull the steps out of the way, and put them over there . . . And lay Beryl on the floor as she was last time, face down with two cushions under her middle so her bottom is up in the air a bit. Legs tied to the furniture, well apart . . .

"John, we are all ready for you . . ."

His Grace moved over to Beryl and stooped to run his hands over her red and tender bottom then took a glass vial from his fob from which he poured a small quantity of liquid down into the cleavage between the cheeks of Beryl's bottom, and he spread the liquid around her rosebud in there with a finger.

He said mysteriously:

"The juice from crushed ants, my dear . . ."

Then tucked the vial away in his pocket again and headed (as last time) to the door of the next room.

Back her came, but this time it was not a dog on the end of his leash:

It was an anteater . . .

And as we all remember from our schooldays, the anteater will push out its long tongue and probe deep deeeep deeeeeeeeeep into the crevices and tunnels of an ants' nest to draw the insects out . . .

The anteater is led towards Beryl's angelic girl's red-striped bottom.

He scents the ants' liquid and makes a wild lunge for the tunnel where he expects to find them . . .

His long thin tongue sliiiiiiides slowly up up up into Beryl's bottom, sliding easy with the honey I had filled her with, exploring all the way, pulling out and re-entering, while she wriggles, moaning in ecstasy.

The seemingly endless tongue curves around the bends inside her bottom and bangs against the walls of her vagina, and on up, far beyond the places that are only touched by the longest male organ in a cunnie-fuck.

Beryl is soon gripped by spasms of deep wrenching orgasm. As she wrythes and squirms the anteater gets ever more excited in pursuit of his prey . . .

But the beast became enraged by lack of insects in the tunnel he is exploring, and pushes his tongue further and further up into Beryl's bottom, only to bring her to almost continuous climaxes of moaning sobbing orgasm . . .

Still with no results from his efforts, the beast's snout begins to follow his tongue into Beryl's ecstatic wriggling bottom and carries her to a sublime level of excitement beyond anything she had ever dreamed possible as wave after wave of ecstasy engulfs her . . .

At this point his Grace feared his infuriated pet, already drawing blood from the opening in Beryl's lovely bottom, would cause permanent harm to Beryl's darling plump derriere . . though she herself was so lost in delirious joy that she would have welcomed being torn to pieces and eaten by the enraged animal . . .

His Grace pulled firmly on the leash to make his pet slide its long tongue slowly slooooowly back out of its exciting tunnel, lashing his tongue from side to side at he did so . . . and bringing Beryl to one final shattering climax . . .

After I at last was able to arouse Beryl from the stupor resulting from her many orgasms caused by his Grace's pet anteater as it thrust its long tongue in and out of her rectum, and I had half carried her up the stairs to our room, I gently bathed Beryl's battered and bleeding bottom with a deep clyster of soothing warm water, laced with a teaspoon of laudanum to ensure the deep and painless sleep that is alway given by the opium.

Sunday, May 28

Beryl awoke the following morning feeling fully rested, a sparkle in her eye and roses in her cheeks, the perfect picture of health and happiness.

We sat again by the window and enjoyed the sight of Richmond Park on the sunny morning while we ate our breakfast.

When the bell began to toll, the servants left and began their walk to the church.

A sort time later, the coachman came with the open carriage and Sir Thomas and his Grace mounted with the two children, to attend the service.

They had thoughtfully left Beryl to rest, and me to keep her company, while they departed to shrive their souls.

The afternoon was quiet. We read and sewed until evening.

After we had supped, Jane brought word that we were both to see Sir Thomas in the library - without any preparation, just as we were.

I could not think what this meant . . . but we went as commanded. When we knocked and entered, Sir Thomas and his Grace were again sitting by the fire with the port decanter.

"Mistress Hilda, Beryl, his Grace is departing tomorrow morning, and wishes to say farewell to you both".

His Grace stood up:

"You have both made my stay here most agreeable, and it has been a pleasure to make your acquaintances.

"Beryl, my dear, I must say I have come to look upon you with the same affection that I feel towards my young nieces when they come to stay.

"What I'd like to . . . I mean . . . Would you perhaps like to come and stay with me sometime . . . for a few days . . . . like my nieces do?"

Beryl's eyes sparkled and her enraptured smile lit up the room.

Then her face clouded in concern as she looked at me and remembered what I'd said about the dangers of allowing herself to have affections for her masters.

She glanced at Sir Thomas, curtsied to his Grace, and said shyly:

"An't please Sir Thomas".

"Thank you, my dear!

"Tom, I'll write to you when I see a few days that suit. Would Mistress Hilda be able to come also, to keep Beryl company?"

"Be wise to defer to m'Lady on that, John. Let me reply about that when you write . . .

"Now, my dears, you see how it is. Perhaps you will be able to visit his Grace for a few days . . . Perhaps I will go with you both. We will see . . ."

"Good! I hope to see you both again before too long. Farewell!".

At this, we curtsied and departed the room.

We had much excited discussion between us upstairs that evening about the adventure proposed by his Grace the Duke . . .

I myself feel he looks upon Beryl as a "thing" to use for his amusement, wishing merely to play with her affections, only to desert her when she begins to bore him.

What sort of man was he, to feel amused by her terror at thinking a dog was about to tear her to pieces??

And the attack by an anteater, however much it excited Beryl, did not seem the action of a true and caring lover, who would wish to arouse her only by his own touch . . .

I believe she would be wise to curb her present liking for his Grace, and be satisfied with the spankings that I give her under direction from m'Lady, and m'Lady's fondlings that follow.

More: Sir Thomas is now also certain to call on Beryl's services, to "milk" his yard, and to sheathe his rampant manhood in the heavenly scabbard of her soft warm bottom - often. And before both of these, he plans to have her soundly spanked, either by me of by himself, which I know excites her greatly.

Beryl already has the good-will and liking of Sir Thomas and m'Lady Cynthia, and adventures enough in their household to keep her busy and satisfied for some time to come . . .

I will try to find for her some books about maidens who were loved and left.

Monday, May 29

As I finish writing yesterday's diary, Sir Thomas sends word: I am to prepare Beryl with honey and bring her to the library after he has dined, at seven o'clock.

And Jane tells me the cook is complaining that she has never before had to prepare three dozen oysters for one person's dinner, to be followed by a pound of steamed shrimp in a sherry sauce!

At the news that Sir Thomas wants her again so soon, Beryl's eyes sparkle and her cheeks flush - I feel sure that Sir Thomas will not allow Beryl to leave his house for a very long time to come.

On this evening, Sir Thomas did have me beat Beryl with a paddle until he thought her warmed to his liking. He then dismissed me, and Beryl did tell me the next day how he had pleasured both her and himself.

He did bid her lie face down on the couch and slid his rampant yard up into her sweet young bottom, in and out, in and out, in easy steps until he was pressed hard against her and flattened her lovely cheeks and could go no further.

Her excitement had mounted with the feel of his hot manhood stretching her insides until he must have felt her nearness to climax and did move his truncheon out and in again but once which did cause him to ejaculate hotly inside her lovely bottom as she did near swoon in Heavenly ecstasies.

Tuesday, May 30

The Tuesday evening, Sir Thomas did have Beryl lie on her back, on a soft rug that lay upon the table. He held her legs up on his chest as her did enter her rosebud while looking fondly into her eyes and fondling her small breasts.

He worked into her bottom so gentle that she felt only pleasure as his great member slid sloooooowly up into her bowells, until he was pressed hard against her bottom and could go no further into her - which was much further than the previous night when she had layed on her tummy.

Again he waited without moving while Beryl's arousal continued until she did near swoon in her ecstasy and she felt his member squirt his hot juices up inside her tummy.

Wednesday, May 31

The Wednesday he had me cane Beryl sharply with her hands tied above her head, to make he dance prettily with great show of wriggling and cries of pain.

Sir Thomas then layed himself on the couch, face up, with his thick member in the air, and did bid me have Beryl kneel astride and facing to his feet.

I had to stay to make sure Beryl did take his rampant penis up into her bottom.

After I had opened her hole before as alway, this was no hard thing to start and Sir Thomas did soon dismiss me from the room.

Beryl told me later he had said he liked most to see his rampant member as it actually disappeared up into her sweet bottom, and he had her lower herself slowly, down a bit then up again, down further then up, and so on, until the whole length of his mighty rod was up inside her bottom.

Sir Thomas did then have Beryl lean back towards his face, then lean forward towards his feet which did make his manhood press strangely inside her bottom which brought her quickly to her ecstasy.

As Beryl was jerking and twitching in her excitement Sir Thomas did buck and jolt to make his stiff yard to move sharply up inside her bottom, and they came to violent ecstasy together.

After, he laid her back against his breast and held her to him for near an hour before he did release her with many terms of sweet endearment as he stroked her cunnie telling her how he loved to see his stiff yard as it disappeared up inside her lovely eleven-year-old bottom and that she was most clever.

Friday, June 2

Sir Thomas did not ask for us on Thursday: perhaps he needed rest and we enjoyed a quite evening ourselves, reading in our room.

Friday was to work again and Sir Thomas had me beat Beryl with a wood paddle as she bent over the edge of the table in his study.

She squirmed and wriggled while crying out most prettily until Sir Thomas did feel her well warmed. He did then lay again upon his back on the couch, and bade me have Beryl kneel each side of him and facing toward him this time.

I did ensure with my fingers that the tip of his rampant member was started in Beryl's slipperie hole before I left them and closed the door behind me.

He did have Beryl again lower herself then pull back up, then lower herself some more and up again, until she was at last sitting firm on his body with the whole of his great engine inside her, much to her great joy and pleasure - and his too.

Sir Thomas did then have Beryl press with the tips of her fingers pushing into her tummy until she could feel his monstrous bone inside her. It was easy she said, as her eleven-year-old waist was but slender and his erection so large inside her.

He then had her sit unmoving on his rampant penis while he probed with the tips of his fingers into her tummy while it stood firm inside her, and he pushed his stiff member from side to side within her tummy which did make her mighty excited, and him too.

This gave Beryl ecstasy such as she had never before felt and she quickly came to where she could stand it no longer and sat with Sir Thomas's rampant yard deep up inside her as she jerked and twitched in spasm, while he also jolted and rammed his rod e'en further up into her girlish bottom to fill her to overflowing with semen.

As she lay after, near unconscious, she leaned forward to lay herself on his chest and kissed and hugged Sir Thomas long and dearly.

A Thick Cambridge Student. Conclusion

Monday, June 5

On Saturday, m'Lady did return and it was not until Monday that she did find some fault with Beryl and had me chastise her, and afterward did comfort her in the way she was wont by making her face cold with water then burying it deep between the sweet cheeks of Beryl's lovely bottom.

I hear through the door as she said:

"Dear sweet Beryl! You have such a lovely flavour, and I have missed you much!!

"Come, I will cool my face again and nuzzle deep into your angelic bottom, sweet Beryl, to take the heat away".

Monday, June 26

It is only three weeks since m'Lady returned from Tunbridge Wells and Sir Thomas did gaze hard at Beryl at every chance: he clearly longed to throw himself once again on her sweet bottom and only restrained himself with difficulty from reaching out to clasp her to him.

On this morn, m'Lady had gone to call on a friend into London. No sooner had the coach pulled from the door than Sir Thomas did call Beryl to follow him to her room and there did make most heated love to her lovely bottom.

He kissed and licked her cheeks and thrust his tongue up into her, she later told me, as she lay naked on her bed. I had half expected this and had cleaned Beryl most carefully that morn after she had shitted, and I had left her bottom slipperie with grease in it.

'Twas as well, for Sir Thomas did waste no time in thrusting his rampant member deep into Beryl's willing bottom. I had closed the doors to shut off the waye to her room, to stifle their joyous moans and words of endearment, so when the coach returned with m'Lady for something she had forgot to take, they heard nothing of it and I ran to tell them.

Sir Thomas leaped up and pulled his cloathes on quick and told Beryl to do the same. He was leaving her room looking warm and ruffled as m'Lady passed in the passage.

She did glance at him a moment only then pass on, for I suspect their income came mostly from him.

I believe they talked later that day, to consult and share their pleasures with Beryl at different times - and so did the crisis pass.

Monday, December 25, 1780

I have naughtily let this my diary lapse following the excitement of Beryl learning to pleasure Sir Thomas. I relate now the chief happenings of the last six month:

The household has been most happy, with Beryl satisfying both m'Lady who friggs herself on Beryl's lovely bottom after that I have caned her, and Sir Thomas who usually at least once each week delights of sliding his rampant penis as far as it can go up into that same lovely eleven-year-old bottom, to her very great joy and his too, I suspect.

Sir Thomas did once say something to Beryl about his Grace the Duke of D----, that his rough treatment of her was not that of a person who truly cared for her, and we have not seen the Duke again.

Other guests did however occasionally come to stay. M'Lady's friends did often share her peep-hole to watch as I caned Beryl and make her dance lively before I took her to them to be comforted and soothed. I believe that m'Lady did often show them how she did cool Beryl's sore bottom with her cold face after that she had held it in a basin of water.

Her friends did usually follow suit, then frig themselves against the lovely nakedness of Beryl.

Sir Thomas did most often leave his friends with Beryl to do with her as they pleased for an afternoon, or even for the night.

She did tell me she liked some mightily, the ones who were gentle and spoke with her as though she was their niece that they made love to, and not just an orphan servant girl who must do what she was told or else be caned and made to live with the rats down in the dark coal cellar for a week or more while given to eat only bread and water.

Beryl dearly liked to feel she was truly cared for by the men who took their pleasure of her.

One such was a Peter G----, student at Cambridge University, nephew of Sir Thomas. He was a well builded young man, and did ride to hounds. A bright blade, and most pleasant with it.

His uncle and aunt being out of the house on his second afternoon there, Peter did go to Beryl in her room. He knocked and entered and took young Beryl in his arms, making to kiss her without so much as "by you leave", she later told me.

Beryl did push him away, and ran round the other side of her bed, quick opening her snuff box of grease in the flurry. As she stumbled and fell on the bed, she lifted her skirt and daubed plentiful grease on her rosebud, as she had learned to do at the Great Orfanage.

With a little cry as of fear she fell face down on the bed with her skirt pulled up to show her bottom which was never these days graced with underdrawers. Peter thought to have the best of her, and she wriggled protesting until Peter had her pinned firm.

As she lay face down on the bed, he was beside her and kissed her hot face; his fingers did slide up to feel Beryl's lovely bottom and on to her rosebud. Great was his delight to find the way already slipperie and prepared for him.

"You jade! You seduce me, sweet Beryl!", and slid his thumb firmly up into her bottom as he pushed his tongue deep into her mouth.

She thrust back with her tongue between Peter's lips and moved her hips sinuous to show she enjoyed him there.

He got greatly excited and moved down to thrust his face into Beryl's bottom and probe with his tongue into her rosebud. She felt him slide a finger into her bottom as he licked and sucked there - grease from a pork roast was most tasty to him.

Then two fingers . . . and she squirmed her hips to show her great pleasure thereat.

Peter did continue to lick and suck while he did pull his two fingers apart and slowly did prise her rosebud well open.

He did then throw off his trousers and his rampant member did stand proud: About six inch long, but 'twas greater round than she had ever before seen on a man.

"Peter! You are huge!

"'Tis thicker than my wrist!

"I'm not sure I can take a manhood so big!"

"We have all morning, I will go very slow, dear Beryl and you will like it as nothing before, I warrant you! Give me your grease and I'll lard it well".

Beryl reached in her pocket and drew out her snuff box of cooking fat which she handed it to him.

"Ha! This is a handy grease box you carry, sweet Beryl! You have it alway, ready for come what may? By my troth, thou art a sly minx, Beryl, and all the sweeter for it!".

Peter was smiling in good humour as he greased his thick ramrod good and careful, then he layed himself atop Beryl and used a hand to feed the great head of his thick weapon onto Beryl's rosebud.

After pulling her open with his two fingers, the huge round tip did start into her bottom quite easy. Peter did then press against Beryl's bottom and his great limb did start to slide slowly up into her.

He had to stretch her insides as he pressed into Beryl's lovely and willing bottom, she making little gasps of pain and pleasure the nonce. He slid slowly to go in a little, then waited a few minutes and pulled out again.

He slowly slid up into Beryl's bottom a little further and she felt herself stretch inside e'en more than when either Sir Thomas or the Duke had slid his rampant weapon up between her soft round cheeks.

It tingled in her bottom and felt wonderful.

Peter did only stretch Beryl's bottom for a little way further each time he pressed up into her, then he did wait for her to become used to it, then pull gently out again.

It was a heavenly process and she was cooing and moaning in her great pleasure, she told me.

After many times in and out again, Peter was at last into Beryl's sweet bottom as far as he could go: his hips pressed hard against her two firm cheeks as he grunted and shoved his great ramrod into her bottom and flattened her cheeks as he did so.

He then lay still, hugging her hard to him with both arms about her.

Beryl had never before been stretched so much in her bottom nor felt filled so hugely. She could not move. She was as firmly pegged and fixed in place as any wood beam in a roof, and she loved it.

"Peter, I feel I am part of you, your manhood is so tight in me. You are wonderful, Peter!"

"Sweet young Beryl! Your lovely bottom holds me so firm! What age are you my lovely Beryl?"

"I was eleven last birthday, an't please you, Peter!", giggling.

"And I fear I can not stay for long so much stretched to hold your yard; 'Tis lovely now! But methinks 'twill begin to hurt me soon Peter. "

"Dear sweet Beryl! For this first time, let us finish now, then.

"I will move out of you a little, and back in. Out, and back in. Aaaaaaaaaaah! You have my life, Beryl my sweet!".

As she felt her excitement rise to be more than she could bear, she heard his hot juices shoot up inside her tummy, then she lost all control of her limbs which trembled rigid in spasms of delight.

They lay coupled together for a long time while Peter's vast ramrod softened and shrank somewhat so Beryl felt it less roughly huge inside her bottom.

She knew she loved Peter enough to do anything he would ask of her, until she bethought her of my admonition that she must do whatever was asked, as well as she can, alway, and with no thoughts for love or affection, for she was only an orphan servant girl.

But she could not help feel some small private love for Peter after his kind and gentle entry with his huge manhood between the narrow hips of her eleven-year-old bottom, to her wondrous pleasure.

"Dear sweet Beryl! You pleasure me as no other girl has ever done!

"Was this the bot that launched a thousand ships and burnt the topless towers of Illium ? Sweet Beryl, make me immortal with a kiss".

And they kissed long and loving as he still lay pegged to her lovely bottom.

"Dear Beryl! Chris Marlowe must have known you to write words like that, I'll warrant!

Peter gave Beryl a last long kiss as she lay with her mouth hot and pouting-lipped, bottom upward there on the bed, then he made for the door and left.

Beryl came to me that evening and recounted all, as I relate above.

The following afternoon, the same: With m'Lady and Sir Thomas out in the coach for an hour, Peter did again come to Beryl's room and kiss her long and deep before that she stumbled upon the bed in their commotion.

Peter fell upon her and thrust his finger into her rosebud as he kissed and nibbled at the lovely cheeks of her young bottom then did slide another finger up into Beryl's young bottom and did pull them apart as before to open her wide enough for his huge truncheon to enter.

Beryl stayed lying face down and did much enjoy his monster engine as he did slow . . . slow work it up between her slender hips, with much lovely stretching of her innards, until he was pressing himself hard against her two soft cushions, and the lovers did lie in joyous communion together.

His patience did repay most well as she was stretched tighter about his member than he could ever remember before, he told her, as she was younger and narrower that any previous girl he had loved.

He hardly durst move for fear of instant ejaculation, her grip did so excite him, he told her.

She likewise did tell me she felt a greater thrill and joy from such great stretching inside, more than any man before had given her.

They lay still thus until Peter could hold himself no longer and told her she was milking him of his juices as sure as any milkmaid did do in her work, and they came to a wondrous ecstatic climax together then lay embraced in love together.

"Do you be ready for me tomorrow night so I may love you again, sweet Beryl, for I have to leave the morning after dear Beryl!

"Have you a candle in case mine burns out, lovely Beryl.

"Oh Beryl! I do love you so, my turtle dove!!"

I prepared Beryl carefully for the following night with much warm water, and honey left inside her bottom for the greater pleasure of Peter when he should come to her room that night.

I did open her rosebud considerable too, so Peter would have less labour.

When Peter did come to Beryl that night it was softly on tip-toe in his night gown with a candle which he set down by her bed.

He straight did pull off her sheet and lay himself beside her with sweet words of love and joy. His hand went up under her night dress to fondle her lovely bottom as he kissed her lips most loving.

He soon did move to kiss her smooth and silky cheeks and lick and press with his fingers into her rosebud. He used one finger then two to open the entrance to her sweet eleven-year-old bottom.

When he had made her opening wide as he had done before, he removed his night-gown and lay himself back on the bed so his great thick rampant member stood pointing firm to the ceiling. He bade her take off her night-dress and sit astride to face him.

She had done this with Sir Thomas so knew well what to do. As Beryl lowered herself onto Peter's monstrous yard, she did find to her surprise that his opening of her rosebud did enable her to start his yard into her bottom with ease.

At the start his huge engine did give her only pleasure as it did slowly slide up into her bottom.

As Beryl did press her weight down further, though, she felt his thick yard stop and move in no more. She found she had to wait until the next inch of her had slowly stretched and opened to allow his thick yard to slide in further.

She then raised herself and waited a moment before once more lowering herself again upon his huge member.

The progress of Peter's thick truncheon up into Beryl's bottom was slow, but heavenly for her. Every fresh bit that did enter was stretching a new part of her innards and it felt so large that she could not move sideways at all for his great peg that transfixed her body in one place. And she tingled with the great stretching of her insides which gave her a wonderful feeling.

After many long times spent pushing down with her weight while she waited for her bottom to open further to Peter's great yard, she at last sat fully down with the cheeks of he lovely bottom pressed firm against him.

He was much further inside her than when she has lain on her stomach, as the full cheeks of her round bottom has then held him away from her.

She felt full, replete, as though she could want nothing more, and she made sweet moan and held Peter's waist between her hands.

Then she did think what Sir Thomas had her do, and pressed with her finger tips into her own slender stomach until she felt Peter's giant engine there inside her, huge and stiff between the tips of her fingers.

She then pushed his great engine first to the right, then pushed his monsterous yard inside her to the left inside her tummy, and giggled.

She giggled not of amusement but of joy, as it felt so loving and intimate to have all of Peter's huge engine inside her and be able to feel it and move him around in there with her fingers.

"That feels strange to me, Peter, to have you inside me to move you around in there. 'Tis really lovely!"

"Do give me your fingers so you may feel for yourself your great yard there inside my tummy".

She held his fingers and pressed the tips into her stomach so she felt his great stiff manhood move inside her.

"Yes! 'Tis there, I feel my thick engine move within you!

"Was ever a love so sublime! My darling Beryl!"

He stroked his mighty engine with his fingers from outside her stomach.

"Did ever a weapon have so wonderful a sheath to hold it tight?

"My lovely Beryl!"

"Dear Peter! I am so sorry that you leave tomorrow. I would dearly love to give you pleasure like this every night, but I know that can not be.

"Let us make the most of this time! You are huge and tight inside me, but let me try move back and fore on top of you!"

"Dear sweet Beryl, be sure you do not hurt yourself: I would never forgive myself if ever you were to suffer hurt because of me".

How unlike the Duke! was the thought that flashed through her mind who had a dog and an anteater attack her.

Beryl did slowly begin to lean back so Peter's enormous member was bent towards his feet. It pressed hard towards the front of Beryl's tummy and she felt with her fingers as the top moved to make her tummy bulge outward, but it hurt her before she had moved far.

Next she did lean forward to bend Peter's member towards his head. That hurt her not at all as his rampant penis was pressed against her backbone.

"Sweet Beryl: No more! 'Tis wonderful for me, but you must not feel pain from me inside your lovely young bottom.

"Lift yourself straight up, then lower your bottom again, so you feel your excitement mount until your climax near overwhelms you, then I will pump my love juices up into you again to join us as one being, dear Beryl".

It happened all too quickly, only the third time that Beryl lowered herself to take the full length of Peter's huge love machine up inside her bottom, she was transported and rigid in her ecstasy and again they did couple in heavenly bliss with Peter's colossal thick member up inside Beryl's slender young hips, jolting and thrusting as he shot his life's juice up into her and she with body stiff and jerking uncontrolled in spasms of orgasm, and truly felt themselves as one being, having and holding each other as though nothing could ever them part.

As Peter's yard softened slightly, Beryl lowered her young girl's breasts to Peter's hairy chest and they kissed long and sweet.

But at last he said:

"Beryl my love, we must both sleep before the morrow.

"Do thou keep thyself ever young and sweet like now so I may find you again thus when that I am next able to visit my Uncle Tom!

"Here, take my gold ring as a token to remember me by. Give me paper that I may write that I have given it to you, to be yours for ever more, lest any think you may have stole it, my sweet darling young Beryl".

Beryl had no recollection of their words after that. She gave Peter a scrap of paper and he did write sweet words about the ring and his love for Beryl that I saw next day.

But young Beryl was so full of fond and loving feelings for her departed Peter that she could tell me no more of their words or embraces or promises for the future.

Between the strictures I had placed on her to keep her heart for a husband and not to give it to any member of the gentry who may play fast and lose with her affections, and Peter's token of a valuable gold ring to remember him by, young Beryl knew not what to think or feel but walked as though in a dream for many weeks after.

I do have great concern for Beryl's future, as she may dream of becoming Peter's mistress or e'en to marry him, when that for many a long year he will depend for all his wants upon his father, who can easy withhold from Peter the pleasure of a mistress who is only an orphan servant girl.

More, Beryl might well fall afoul of Peter's uncle or aunt as a consequence of her deep love and devotion to Peter.

Lest Beryl should one day hap to cross m'Lady or Sir Thomas, or fall out with Peter, I have prepared her for such an accident:

Beryl knows she has one sure sanctuary should matters go amiss.

She could easy walk the ten miles to the Great Orfanage in London and there ask the good doctor Browne to recommend her to a convent.

The Holy Father Confessors would only need to hear Beryl's first confession, to admit her instantly as a novice.

They would straightway understand that the exquisite jewel who kneeled before them, was ready and able to assist their daily devotions . . . in much the way that the twelve-year-old Alibech, in Boccaccio's Decameron, helped the hermit Rustico to better serve God by "Putting the Devil in Hell", as he called it . . . until she had alas totally exhausted the poor Rustico!

But Beryl's Confessors would run little risk of this fate: they are known for their great stamina where the nuns of their convents are concerned.

Beryl would no doubt be given the name of Sister Sphynctata, for the saint who promotes happy families by advocating sphynctal intercourse to avoid unwanted pregnancies.

There is good chance though that all will continue to go well with Beryl so she will stay with us for many happy years hence.

And now on this happy Christmas Day, let us give thanks to those saintly gentle folk who gave us Beryl as she is today.

I mean those who gave, as the former Dean of Saint Paul's at the Great Orfanage did put it, of their time and treasure and talents, to the destitute orphan girls there.

And what great talents they were, to give a girl the liking that she be spanked, and to have a man to slide his rampant manhood up into her sweet bottom, so the willing and pleasant girl does become highly prized and is taken into one of the great houses and cared for until of a ripe age to marry, then is given a dowry from her master in thanks for her loving services . . . while he does go to the Great Orfanage and find another sweet girl of eleven or twelve for himself - but none will ever match Beryl as a delightful and sensuous young girl in her first year with our household at Richmond . . .

I saw the work of these gentle men and women in my visits to the Great Orfanage. As the good Doctor Browne did tell me: The sacrifices and care of these altruistic people who think only of the good of the orphan girls, never did cease to amaze him.

Long may there be gentry of such unselfish charity to give these great advantages to the many destitute young girls in the Great Orfanage and elsewhere!

And now I have come to the end of my paper and must needs find more, to sew the sheets together so I do have more notebooks . .

May 1781 be as happy and joyous for us all as this wonderful year has been!

R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s - R e v i e w s

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