“Now, Master Dale, we shall see if this birch will cool your itching for feeling your pretty cousin’s private parts.”
Poor Dale had never yet been punished more severely than by the hand of his mamma, and certainly trembled at the sight of the formidable birch rod threatening his now bare bottom; yet, notwithstanding his fears, the allusion to the pretty private parts of his cousin so fired his imagination that his cock instantly stiffened and stood out, to the infinite delight of the doctor, who augured therefrom a future further felicity. Keeping him standing close beside him, and enjoying the sight of his youthful charms so deliciously exposed immediately before his eyes, he proceeded—
“So, Master Dale, you have, it seems, been gratifying yourself with looking and feeling between the legs and thighs of a pretty young girl of fifteen, your cousin, is she not?”
“Yes, sir,” sobbed out the youth.
The doctor’s gaze was fixed upon the stiff and rampant member of the youth, watching the throbbings produced by every allusion to the luscious scene of the day before.
“Now, come, tell me all about it,” said he, putting his arm round the sobbing boy’s waist, and making him stand still closer beside him. “Was she such a very pretty girl?”
Another throb of the rampant member.
“Yes, sir.”
“And you saw all her legs, thighs, plump little bottom, rosy pouting little slit”—(throb—throb—throb)—“moist with the dew of excitement and amorous play eh?”
The little machine seemed ready to burst at the thought of it.