• Chapter 1
  • Chapter 2
  • Chapter 3
  • Chapter 4
  • Chapter 5
  • Chapter 6
  • Chapter 7
  • Chapter 8
  • Chapter 9
  • Chapter 10
  • Chapter 11
  • Chapter 12
  • Chapter 13
  • Chapter 14
  • Chapter 15
  • Chapter 16
  • Chapter 17
  • Chapter 18
  • Chapter 19


    A man with a maid,vol.IV

    Chapter 1

    In the last section of my memoirs, I related in some detail how I at last gained my long-sought revenge on haughty Marion, the sister of my beloved Alice.

    Yet to my great delight, this revenge turned out to be an unexpected bounty from the Goddess Venus herself, for not only did Marion succumb to my artful wiles and avow herself truly conquered by demanding virility, but also she brought at our very next meeting her saucy red-haired maid Kay, who she claimed was in dire need of a chastisement for impertinence. And with my aid, the charming Marion entered with full gusto and a wealth of sensual imagination into the fray, thereby providing me not only with a delightful accomplice who, once having been my bitterest enemy, had now become my passionate and secret mistress, but also with another addition to my growing harem of delectable and delightful maids.

    When we parted that last time, during which I had managed to reconcile Kay with her ardent mistress, I gave her my word as a gentleman that I would not under any circumstances inform my beloved Alice what well-nigh incredible intimacy I had achieved with this older sister who, though she had not been a virgin thanks to a regrettably one-sided marriage, had once been as prudish and censorious of my bachelor actions as though she had been my own guardian or administratrix. We both agreed that if her yielding to me should come at all to Alice’s knowledge, it should be through Marion’s own person.

    Knowing me only by name and by the images and impressions gained from reading my memoirs, you may deem me a profligate and most licentious rogue. With this I have no quarrel, since the passing of the years, the difference in our geographical setting from where these burning deeds of priapic valor originally took place, and finally the impossibility of ever having my inamorata or even myself actually identified, combines in a sense to conceal the most intimate feelings and thoughts and personalities of all the chief characters in my little drama. I do not hold with the vainglorious braggarts who feel that to herald their accomplishments in the boudoir with the fair sex, they needs must trumpet to all the world and sundry the scabrous and shamefully gossiping chronicles of their petty amours. I am neither prig nor puritan-and God be thanked for that-but neither am I a scandal-mongering adventurer who would malign by defamation the very beauties whose sweet generosity granted me such pleasures as few mortal men have tasted.

    No, the boaster and the braggart, the Don Juan in the stall who feels it imperative to proclaim his cocksmith’s roisterings under the sheets and out of them to those who would gape and goggle and pry and intrude are, to my fancy, the basest of villains, and if one were to examine at the source their prattlings of tireless bouts of amatory conquest, one would probably find they had more pence in their pockets than honest prick. For the man who has the demon within him to urge him on to blabber all his nocturnal squirmings in the stews is deeply at heart a sadly inferior wretch who must compensate himself for his own actual lack of priapic stamina by substituting tales that would surpass tellings of a veritable Sinbad.

    So there, I have said my piece, and done the only moralizing for this volume, for which I crave your honest indulgence. But now let me take up once again the thread of my own delicious affairs at the point which followed the departure of the charming Marion and her exquisitely saucy maidservant Kay.

    I had made the resolve to ask Alice for her hand in marriage. Now I will confess that at the outset of my adventures with her I had really no such intention. When one has been a bird on the wing for so long as I, it is difficult at first blush to reconcile oneself to the gilded cage and to the regimen of daily monotony which invariably, alas, seems to follow the most riotously hymenean pursuits. On the day which followed the sweet reconciliation of Marion with her maid, I seriously asked myself if I was not, in making so heroic a sacrifice of my freedom, terminating at one fell swoop all those future bequests which Venus might perhaps have in store for me in my later years.

    Would Alice become, once domesticated under my roof as my virtuous bride and the sharer of my fortune, for good or evil as fate might decide, a shrew and termagant, a Xantippe to my Socrates? Or again, even granting that her sweet nature could not possibly foretell any such dwindling away of warm ardor and generous affection, might not the inevitable repetition of our now wedlock-blessed embraces take on a more spiritual and at the same time less passionate tone? Would each of us make the error of taking the other for granted simply because our nuptiality would permit each to enjoy in due and respectful sequence the conjugal rights? These were, I can tell you, serious questions to be considered by a man undertaking on a sudden whim, however noble the pretext and purpose when the vow was originally taken, to sanctify his fleshly lusts and to have them blessed with bell, book and candle under a proper wedding canopy. Mr. and Mrs. Jack-ah, how mundane, how prosaic, how banal! Was not Jack and Alice a sweeter mouthful, and a far more fiery consummation?

    But I had in the presence of Marion and Kay announced that I would seek out the dear hand of Alice as my consort, and so I meant to.

    And so I did, as you shall see.

    Chapter 2

    One of the greatest joys in life, when one is perceptive and virile as well, is the spicy uncertainty of day-to-day existence. It is all very well to plan a week ahead to receive one’s tender mistress, to spend the waking hours filling one’s mind with amorous images and planning the most voluptuous dalliance. To be sure, in some ways this anticipation often exceeds the actual joy of realization; yet, for all this I would not gainsay the zestful relish which is occasioned by the unexpected and unforeseen.

    Now I was looking forward to the return of my beautiful Alice who, with her maid Fanny, was shortly to return from a visit to an elderly aunt in Nottingham. I had resolved myself at last to give up my bachelorhood, but this was not quite so bleak a prospect as one might have believed. Because now that I had conquered the voluptuous and older Marion, I knew very well that I could entice her to remain my complaisant mistress, and that I could on occasion induce her to let me have a short, delicious hour with her red-haired, temperamental and vivacious maid, Kay. In addition, there was Alice’s own maid, the voluptuous and devoted Fanny, who would be in our household from the very onset of our nuptials, and who, I had good reason to believe, would not find my attentions amiss.

    I was as yet too gallant to remind my wife-to-be that there would be times when Nature would put her hors de concours from my priapic sallies, and I knew that my sweet Alice would not be so selfish as to deny me pleasure when she herself could not accord it to me. I must therefore learn with some exactitude if the monthly curse which all women have had to bear since Eve committed her folly of the apple in the garden of Eden fell at different times for my wife-to-be and her charming maid. If they were not at the same time, I could solace myself with delicious Fanny while Alice had the megrims, and then when it was Fanny’s turn to be diffident, Alice would be the more passionate once restored to healthy action. For just prior to and after that accursed span which blights a woman’s capacity for love, she is exceptionally sensitive to all the little attentions with which a lusty man goes about wooing her.

    And finally, there was the matter of Connie Blunt, that adorable golden-haired young woman of twenty-two, whose virginity, for all intents and purposes, I had taken in this very Snuggery which had seen the conquest first of Alice and finally and most recently of haughty Marion. I had promised myself that when Connie returned from her fortnight in Italy-which was a week hence-I should question her at some length as to whether she had actually lost her maidenhead to her elderly husband and whether that consummation had been the knell of doom for his faltering heart, or whether again she had clandestinely sacrificed that tender treasure between her succulent young thighs to another man to console her for being brought to bed with a man old enough to be her father.

    So, since it seemed that Alice and her maid Fanny would be first upon my horizon of return and reciprocity, I made elaborate plans for welcoming my sweet fiancee. This time the Snuggery should witness billing and cooing, the sweet swooning cries of a maiden no longer a maiden but yet in her feminine estate capable of the most maidenly ecstasies of the man-myself-who would soon be her legal consort and have every right over her delectable body. This time there would be no force, no fustigation or feathering, but only sweet fucking and maybe a bit of gamahuching, for I had already discovered that sweet Alice had the most effervescent of sensual natures when lips and tongue plied that coral nook between her shapely thighs with the expert diligence of which I was capable.

    So after Marion had left me and we had both pledged to each other to keep the secret of our trysting till Alice should by her own divine intuition find us out, I arranged with the elderly charwoman who did the apartments in our building to give special attention to mine, and I ordered floral displays and purchased a case of vintage champagne and another of the finest sherry (both subtle and stimulating liqueurs on which the amorous female dotes), and I paid a visit to the caterer to order a gourmet dinner on the evening when Alice and I should be reunited and each to the other affirm the intention of becoming man and wife.

    During my plans and preparations, I must confess there were moments when I felt the shadow of remorse tinge my mind with a certain nostalgic regret, but I knew that to be a natural consequence of my impetuous decision to wed Alice instead of remaining the stern, aloof master of his destiny and the conqueror of sweet surrendering cunts, which role I had so ably played until now.

    I told myself that it was not the sacrifice of freedom I faced, but actually the legal addition of what amounted to a clandestine little harem, all within the family: Alice and Fanny, two handmaidens blessed by Venus herself, both equally tasty morsels for a man’s bed, each endowed with divine precepts, and yet each different in her own sexual propensities as well as physique and physiognomy to gratify the most vile and demanding of lovers.

    Of course I knew that as my wife Alice would naturally assume a certain legitimate jealousy toward my extramarital ambitions, though doubtless these would be mild indeed if my attentions centered on Fanny, since then my lovely Alice would have ample pretext to scold and to punish that adorable maid. I had perceived in Alice already a certain penchant for erotic sadism, just as I had done in Marion when it had been her turn to be executioner to Kay’s trembling victim. Well, even the gentlest of women has that hidden resource within her nature, and that is why we men of taste and understanding cultivate the feminine psyche just as much as we do the feminine form divine.

    So, I told myself with a certain placid resignation, if I were to mourn giving up my freedom because I could no longer dominate my beautiful victims by the lash and by the feather and by the bondage which the Snuggery so comfortably offered, at least I might witness and doubtless participate in many a connubial scene of domestic “crime and punishment,” so to speak. Undoubtedly naughty Alice would often conspire with me to put Fanny in some disgrace, perhaps for dropping a dish or not dusting the table properly, or for this or that obscure reason, and forthwith sentence her to chastisement in the Snuggery.

    And yet I must confess that even this prospect at moments had its lusterless side. For when one can flatly expect and predict the outcome of amorous adventure, one’s ambitions tend to slacken and one takes a smug assurance from what knowledge can anticipate. No, for me, I had to confess, the unexpected and the bizarre created the elixir of excitement in the brew of virile escapade, from which goblet I had always drunk with zest and eagerness.

    In short, I was accustoming myself to feel the relatively calmer fervor of a loving husband rather than the devilish and satyr-like avidity of the perennial hunter who constantly seeks new and fresh prey to whet his carnal appetites.

    And then the goddess Venus, to whom I had all my life paid such adoring tribute, smiled on me the day before my beloved Alice was due to return to London. She, of all omniscient women, could best appreciate my feelings. So perhaps it was a kind of wedding gift that she sent to my door on this somewhat rainy and bleak afternoon preceding the day of Alice’s homecoming.

    I had not, of course, been expecting anyone at all, and so the day being gloomy, I had put on only my trousers, braces, and robe, socks and a pair of slippers, and made myself comfortable with one of Mr. Charles Dickens’ best novels, appropriately entitled Great Expectations. I trow that our Lady Venus, the patroness of all devoted men, must have peered down from Mount Olympus and smiled to behold the work I had selected to occupy my solitary thoughts this dreary afternoon. For I had no great expectations whatsoever, except for the morrow.

    What was my surprise then to hear the peal of the bell. Frowning as I sought to recall who it was that might have taken it into his head to call upon me, and finding no answer to that question, I approached my door and opened it.

    What was my further surprise to see none other than Miss Molly Bashe, in the company of a slim, haughty-faced young minx of perhaps twenty whom I had not seen before. Her sandy brown hair was most elegantly coiffed with a series of carefully artificed round curls which fell on either side of her lovely head and down to the shoulders, whilst a similar row decorated the top of her forehead and reminded me of the heroine Pamela of Richardson’s great novel of the same name.

    I must confess I flushed with startled embarrassment at this second encounter with Miss Molly Bashe, and with good reason indeed! About the time I had conquered Alice, and prior to the conversion of Connie Blunt, I made the acquaintance of Lady Betty Bashe at the house of a mutual friend. This plump widow was just under forty and was busy introducing her offspring into what is called by some, with tongue in cheek, “high society,” and this worthy and consolable widow had taken it into her head that I would make a prize son-in-law. She had therefore proceeded to hunt me down persistently, and her daughter had aided and abetted her vigorously until they both had become a decided nuisance.

    I had not been smitten with the charms of either mother or daughter at our first meeting. Lady Betty, as my readers who have perused the first volumes of my memoirs will recall, was a tall, robust and buxom woman who reminded one inescapably of the painter Rubens’ fleshy models. And Miss Molly was a small, dainty edition of her mother in her eighteenth year. But the two of them were affected, insincere and unscrupulous, and to find this portly widow playing the air of a juvenile and affecting the silly mannerisms and even the speech of her own daughter was enough to turn my stomach.

    You will recall also that the two of them had insisted that they visit me and that they have lunch with me. Well, they had had a dessert which was rather more than they had bargained for. I had Connie and Alice and also Fanny apprised of this rude self-invitation of theirs, and all four of us had given them a most sanguine and ardent welcome. They had received their fair share of fustigation, feathering, yes, and fucking too, with the little fillip of erotic excitement which all of us procured in having mother and daughter perform the secret and mystic rituals of Lesbos. We had at last driven them off in triumph, warning them not to dare breathe a single word of what had happened, nor to seek vengeance on my three lovely aides. Nor had they. And until this very moment I had believed that Lady Bashe and her daughter had been paid off in full and were now thoroughly expunged from the slate of my life.

    Yet such is the marvel of our lives that fate takes pleasure in contradicting our most cherished beliefs. For, as you shall see, dear reader, Miss Molly’s visit was occasioned by the most astonishing motive!

    Chapter 3

    For the nonce I must have appeared to both these young ladies as a gaping idiot, for when I beheld Miss Molly Bashe standing before me, my jaw dropped and I stared at her uncomprehendingly, as I could not for the life of me understand why this damsel whom I had served so cruelly would ever dare show herself within a hundred yards of me again.

    “I do hope, Mr. Jack,” Molly Bashe declared in her rather high-pitched, affectatious voice, “that Julia and I have not disturbed you this afternoon.”

    I eyed the delectable brown-haired minx who stood beside her and who stared at me with rather bold dark brown eyes, her small but very ripe mouth curled in a kind of tolerant sneer. I began to believe that here was a veritable counterpart of Molly, remembering how insolent and self-centered that young lady had been until the famous afternoon in the Snuggery with her mother. But for the life of me I could not fathom Molly’s motive for visiting me again, for she could only remember me as the perpetrator of her shame and that of her mother’s as well. I had taken her virginal hymen, made her girl-love her own portly, mature mother, and then subjected the pair of them to the depredations of Connie, Fanny and my own beloved Alice.

    “This is my friend Julia Denton,” Molly Bashe replied. “May we come in, Mr. Jack? We were passing by your apartment after having finished some shopping at Horseley’s, and I told Julia that she would find you a most interesting person and your apartment even more so.”

    More and more mystifying! But at least I must not remain ungracious, till I had discovered what had prompted Molly Bashe to seek me out and to ignore all the highly embarrassing memories which our second meeting must surely have cost her.

    “By all means, do come in, you and your friend,” I replied, “but you will pardon me my summary attire, as I was not expecting company.”

    “That is quite all right,” Molly Bashe said, and she suddenly gave me a quick little smile which further stupefied me. I was mentally undressing her and remembering our last encounter. My three exquisite aides had among themselves stripped her naked, and I could still recall how delicious, how exquisitely shaped and perfectly made, how lithe and charmingly rounded and plump for all of them, so juicy and fresh she was. I could remember, too, her large, firm, upstanding breasts with their saucy little dark-coral-tinted nipples, as well as the thick quantity of dark moss-like hair that clustered so prettily over her adorable virgin slit which, like her mother’s, was particularly plump and prominent. Of course, Molly was eighteen and a real tidbit, for all her annoying mannerisms derived, I was certain, from her mother’s influence over her. I should say that she was about five feet four inches in height, and now that she had actually crossed my threshold again, I confess also that I quite forgot about Alice’s imminent return to London on the morrow. It has often been said that a prick has no conscience, and no truer words had ever been spoken. Already I found myself anticipating how I could get delightful Molly Bashe to yield her toothsome person to me once again.

    But the presence of Julia Denton, who seemed to be perhaps a year older and was infinitely more haughty and supercilious than even Molly-which is saying a great deal! — dampened my intentions to an extent. I could hardly imprison the luscious brunette and wreak my will upon her in her friend’s presence. But at the moment, what most concerned me was to find a reason for Molly’s visit.

    It was not long in coming, for as Julia Denton began to look around the walls and to observe my framed lithographs, Molly Bashe approached me and whispered suddenly, “I must talk with you privately, Mr. Jack! It’s most important. Can you manage to get me alone for just a moment and give Julia something to do while we talk?”

    I could and did. Clearing my throat, I announced to Molly’s companion that Molly’s mother had a few weeks ago paid a visit to me to request some information concerning a school for her daughter, and that I had collected some literature on the subject which she had forgotten to take along with her. I was now going to procure it and to give it to Molly, who could then in turn bring it to her mother.

    Julia Denton gravely nodded and then dismissed me with a shrug of her winsome shoulders as she turned back to contemplate the decor of my salon. I quickly took Molly Bashe by the elbow and escorted her down the hallway and into my study room, closed the door and said, “I am even more anxious to talk to you, Miss Molly, because I will tell you frankly that I had never expected to see you again in all my life.”

    At this, the charming young brunette had the good grace to blush violently and to lower her eyes, whilst entwining her slim fingers and twisting them nervously as she sought to formulate her remarks to me. And then finally, with a deep breath, she lifted her dark blue eyes to mine and stammered, “I–I don’t hold any grudge against you, Mr. Jack, for-for what happened that other afternoon. That is one reason I came here.”

    “This is heartening news indeed, my dear. But may I know also the other reasons which prompted your visit?”

    Once again Molly Bashe blushed furiously. She had a soft white skin whose finely grained quality I had already tasted to my great delectation, and she had the very decided ardent temperament that such a sign always presupposes. At last she managed to express herself in a tone that was far from her usual affectatious one and which was rather more stammered than clearly enunciated: “I–I know what you must be thinking, but I want you to believe-truly I do, Mr. Jack-that-that I’m not angry with you for what you did. I know that Mummy was trying ever so hard to get me married off to you.”

    “That is correct, and I felt that she had gone much too far. But I will say in all gallantry at this moment, my dear, that from the physical point of view marriage to you would not exactly be an abomination. It was only that I could not tolerate your mother’s unscrupulous maneuvering to foist you off on me, and also that you yourself behaved like a younger edition.”

    “I–I know. But you see, Mr. Jack, M-Mummy has nothing to live for except me and that is because my father died about ten years ago. She is eager to marry me off, and she has just announced my engagement to a gentleman who is about forty-five. He has a minor diplomatic post at the Embassy, and he is a very good match, at least from Mummy’s point of view.”

    “My heartiest congratulations, then, Miss Molly,” I said cheerfully. “And I am happy that you bear me no rancor. When are the happy nuptials to be celebrated?”

    “Next-next week, Mr. Jack,” Molly Bashe replied in a low and unsteady voice, again lowering her eyes and averting her face from my gaze. Arthur-that is the name of my fiance-has been transferred to Bwaniphur in India, and we shall go there after we have had our honeymoon in Italy.”

    “I am sorry to hear that you will have to reside with your husband in India, for you will find it trying. But then, that is your own affair, and all I can do is to wish you well, and your husband too.”

    “This is very difficult for me, Mr. Jack,” Molly Bashe faltered, and again her large dark blue eyes fixed on my face with an almost poignant appeal. “I don’t wonder that you are cynical and contemptuous of me, but I did think that perhaps-that perhaps because you did what you did, you did not hate me too much.”

    Now this was really astonishing! Here was this eighteen-year-old affectatious little minx, whom I had had stripped naked, forced to suck her mother and be sucked off by the latter, thoroughly thrashed and feathered and tickled, and then fucked and utterly demeaned in a way which certainly no well-bred young lady would expect from a gentleman. Yet she was making me her confidant to tell me about her imminent marriage, and in a voice which suggested that she was not thoroughly happy with the prospect, in spite of her mother’s efforts to marry her off to anyone who might be eligible, myself included.

    “We had best go back quickly, or your friend may be suspicious and think that there is some love affair between us,” I said casually.

    At this she blushed even more violently, and then she suddenly blurted, “Oh, Mr. Jack, the fact is-well-I–I don’t like Arthur at all, but Mummy insists that is a brilliant match. He is an old fussbudget, more womanly than manly, and I am afraid that I will simply be just a daughter to him instead of a wife. Remembering how you seemed to enjoy me when you had me at your mercy, I–I came here half in the hope that you would teach me what it was like to make love in an ardent and passionate way. I know that I shall never look for that from Arthur.”

    Now I was, really floored! Would wonders never cease? Far from being discomfited and hugely embarrassed by my violation of her, this delectable brunette was actually begging me to repeat the episode-unless my ears had played me a bad trick.

    “Am I to understand, Miss Molly,” I demanded somewhat incredulously, “that you are offering yourself to me this afternoon? But what about your friend, Miss Denton? How do you expect us to manage a clandestine amour when she is here in my apartment? Will she not tell your mother and blemish your reputation, perhaps even destroy your hopes for a profitable union with this estimable diplomat?”

    “I–I want you to do the same thing to her,” came the amazing and unexpected answer. “I want you to capture us both and-and-and to f-force us just as you did Mummy and me that other afternoon. Will you, Mr. Jack?”

    “But, my dear girl,” I exclaimed, taken as you may well suspect most emphatically aback by this astonishing declaration, “what motive could I possibly have to proceed against Miss Denton, whom I have only just met and who has certainly never affronted me?”

    Again Molly Bashe blushed to the roots of her dark hair and lowered her eyes. Her magnificent young bosom rose and fell with a turbulence I could only ascribe to the singularity of her proposal and to the emotional enervation it must have caused her. “Well, you see, Mr. Jack,” she stammeringly explained, “Julia is my cousin, and she has just been most terribly jilted. She was betrothed to a young officer in the Grenadiers, and she expected to be married next month, but the dreadful rascal was sent along with his regiment to Gibraltar and only yesterday she received a letter from him saying that he was secretly engaged to a very beautiful Moroccan girl whom he expects to marry when he gets leave in his new post.”

    “Yes, but-” I began, rather helplessly, I will admit, because this whole thing was taking on the aspect of an impossible fantasy.

    “Julia is a very passionate girl, Mr. Jack,” she astoundingly went on, still keeping her eye lowered and her cheeks on fire from the emotions which were being raised in her magnificent young bosom, “and she has confided everything in me because we are dear friends. Her fiance-well-dallied with her very scandalously, and he almost took from her what only a husband should take. And she is pining for him, the foolish girl, and I thought to myself that if you were to make her a prisoner and force her to do your will, it would distract her from thoughts of that wretched upstart who dashed all her hopes so thoughtlessly.”

    I let out a gasp of incredulity which I am sure that you, dear reader, would have done in my place. For here I was being offered not only the opportunity to enjoy Miss Molly Bashe in all her voluptuous young naked beauty and to take from her whatever I wished to assuage my virile desires, but also I was being offered this other girl whom I had only just met.

    “But how can I be sure-” once again I tried to learn the answer to the riddle.

    Molly Bashe, however, once again interrupted in a faltering and unsteady voice: “You see, Mr. Jack, I know that Julia is very much like myself, a proper young lady brought up by doting parents who never bothered to explain to us what would be expected of us when the time came to marry. My poor Mummy still treats me like an eight-year-old girl, or at least she did until that other afternoon.”

    Once again her blushes threatened to halt her faltering speech entirely, and she had again to draw a very deep breath and to twist her fingers this way and that before she could find courage enough to go on: “I–I was horrified when you did all those dreadful things to Mummy and me that afternoon, Mr. Jack. But I was helpless and tied and I couldn’t do anything, and then besides you whipped me so hard I had to obey. And it was-it was awfully thrilling. I know that Julia feels the same way, and she would never give herself to you just by coming to your apartment and offering herself. But I thought that you might tie her up as you did me, and whip her bottom a little and then she would do anything, and it would distract her from losing Henry.”

    Gradually the light dawned. I had to deal here with two exquisite young masochists, who though they were both products of our smug Victorian society secretly experienced the same lustful desires as a tavern wench or others of that same lowly station in life. Now, they rationalized, if they could both be forced to yield to the will of a man, they would be able to tell themselves that they were not guilty of any sin because they had been made to do the bidding of their assailants. And then they would be free to unleash all their inhibited passions under the guise of being coerced to obedience and docility.

    It was a highly ingenious scheme, and already my prick was longing to take part in it. I had greatly misjudged Miss Molly Bashe. Either that, or the instrument which now began to throb and turgify between my thighs had proved a catalytic rod and untapped the damned-up sensual force within her voluptuous young being. For I will say that this psychology is not uncommon with many women who profess the greatest chastity and the sublimest virtue: they tell themselves that if they are obliged against their will to surrender their fair persons, the sin is not theirs and therefore they remain inviolate amidst the most heinous violation, pure amid the riotous erotic fantasies which make of them a sexual plaything for the will of a male.

    At any rate, my lonely and neglected prick would now have reason to show the utmost gratitude to this fair charmer and her sycophant, and I was instantly ready to show her how even a prick which is said to have no conscience could pay its debt of gratitude!

    Chapter 4

    I stared hard at Miss Molly Bashe, wanting to be certain that she was not pulling my leg. “I will agree that your friend is most appetizing,” I finally declared, “but I warn you that if I undertake this diverting scheme, you will not escape its consequences. Do you understand me, Miss Molly?”

    Before my level gaze, the delicious brunette turned a most becoming scarlet and lowered her eyes. “I–I know you will, Mr. Jack,” she faintly retorted. “And-and you needn’t worry about Julia, because I will talk her into accepting whatever you try to do to us. But I think you had best start with me, because it will more natural.”

    Still further wonder upon wonders! And I confess that I was not at all loath to renew my carnal acquaintance with the enticing figure of this charming if affectatious young beauty. “Very well,” I said, “you will therefore tell your friend that I had asked you to show her my famous Snuggery. You will have her sit in the armchair which is near the door. It has green upholstery and is very becoming and inviting, quite wide and deep. I need not add that it so contrived that a mere touch of a secret mechanism will hold her captive while I proceed with you.”

    “I–I understand, Mr. J-Jack,” Molly Bashe quavered. She was really adorable as she stood with downcast eyes and cheeks that were a brilliant crimson with her mingled emotions. She knew that she was being extremely naughty and forward, the delicious minx, and from the agitated rise and fall of her bosom I could discern that the prospect was exciting her already! Well, it was having the same effect on me. Indeed, it would take a moment or two for me to recover my composure before I could dare go out into the salon and face Miss Julia Denton without manifesting to this very prim and circumspect young lady the outrageous evidence of my manhood in a state of anticipatory excitement!

    “Then, as for you, you will recall that you and your mother commented on the pulleys which are found in my Snuggery and how those same pulleys were the very cause of your downfall.”

    “Ohh y-yes!” Molly Bashe breathed, “I–I shan’t ever forget that afternoon!”

    “Nor I,” I gallantly replied. “But it is time that you go back to your friend before she becomes the least bit suspicious. Mind you, you are to be dealt with first, so prepare yourself. Although I don’t see at the moment how you’re going to talk Miss Denton into surrendering to me, particularly as I have no rancor against her and I am not usually cast in the role of a ravenous rapist. What I did to you and your mother, Miss Molly, was done out of a much-deserved revenge because of her infernal matchmaking.”

    “I’m sure that when Julia sees-sees what you’ll-what you’ll do to me, Mr. Jack,” Molly Bashe quavered, “she will get so excited that she won’t think of anything else except what you may do to her, sir.”

    My blood was boiling, as you may well suspect! I took her hand and kissed it, as I would that of a great courtesan who had brought off a spectacular coup in the tourney of love, and I let her out. Then lighting a cigar, I made certain that my robe was properly belted and hid the fact that I was in only my undershirt with braces and my trousers, and at last I made my entry back into the salon. Julia Denton glanced up at me, her eyes rather large and insolent as they lingered on me, and I saw that Molly Bashe was beside her and had apparently been talking to her. Seeing me, the delectable brunette raised her voice: “Oh, Julia, we mustn’t leave until you see Mr. Jack’s famous Snuggery. It’s where he takes all his exercise, and it’s a most unusual place.”

    You may guess that I had to maintain a great deal of self-control to keep a straight face during this masterpiece of double entendre. I bowed from the waist and replied, “Miss Molly is much too gracious in her estimate of my poor abode, Miss Denton, but it would be my privilege to show you its facilities.”

    “I don’t mind,” Julia Denton shrugged. “But we mustn’t stay too late, Molly dear, because you know we promised to visit my Cousin Elsie before the afternoon is over.”

    “Don’t be such a fussbudget. Come along now.”

    I now unlocked the double doors of the Snuggery and let them go ahead of me. Swiftly I bolted the outer door, then closed the inner one, and now both girls were trapped… Molly Bashe knowingly, but Julia Denton unwittingly.

    “What lovely thick Persian carpets, don’t you think, Julia?” the brunette turned to her sandy-haired friend.

    “Oh, they’re all right,” Julia Denton diffidently agreed. “It’s most quiet in here, I will say that. And after all the noise of the street, I imagine this would be a welcome retreat. But didn’t you say, Molly, that this is Mr. Jack’s exercise room?”

    “Indeed it is.” I took up the cue. “If you will make yourself comfortable in that green armchair, Miss Denton, I will show you just how I use it. It’s better than a club or a gymnasium in many ways.”

    Molly Bashe averted her eyes, and I suspect that she too had some difficulty in keeping her nominal composure so as not to give away the secret. Julia Denton, I observed out of the corner of my eye, wandered over to the comfortable armchair and seated herself with a little sigh of comfort. The first trap was sprung!

    “Now then, Miss Molly,” I blandly continued, “you will notice the wristlets of those pulleys. You fasten them around your wrists and then grasp the rope with your hand, thus dividing your weight between wrist and hand, instead of all of it coming on the fingers as on a trapeze.”

    “Oh, yes, I do remember now. Let me try it.”

    Molly approached the pulleys, while I followed with a congenial smile. I fastened the ropes to her wrist, and she at once began to swing herself slowly and gently backward and forward.

    Now that this was done, I walked slowly back toward the armchair. Julia Denton looked up at me with some surprise. I had adjusted the catch, which formerly closed the arms over its occupant the moment the latter seated herself, in such a way that it required the touch of my finger at the back of the chair. “Are you quite comfortable, Miss Denton?” I now inquired as my left forefinger sought the secret catch.

    “Yes, quite, thank you. But really, Molly, I’ve seen enough. It’s very nice, and I suppose there are advantages, but I prefer my exercise outdoors-OHHH-what in the world? — stop it-how dare you-what does this mean?”

    For having touched the catch, I now stepped back and saw the arms folding around Julia Denton’s waist, capturing her snugly and preventing her from escaping her fate.

    “It means, Miss Denton, that I shall ask you to bear with me until I have concluded the little matter of some unfinished business with your charming companion,” I smilingly retorted.

    Julia Denton stared up at me with an incredulous expression on her lovely face. “But, sir,” she protested in a voice that shook with indignation. “This is audacious and highhanded! I have absolutely nothing to do with whatever has gone between you and Molly, and you have surely no right to compel me to be a witness to anything scandalous. Molly, how could you? Do you mean to tell me you are actually on-Oh, it’s unthinkable and it offends my modesty even to say it aloud! — on more intimate terms with this man than simply those of casual acquaintance through your mother’s introduction?”

    I glanced toward Molly Bashe, who still swung back and forth on the trapeze, the ropes fastened neatly about her wrists. I then strode forward to the wall and turned a little crank which acted on the windlass which acted on those pulley-ropes fixed so tightly to Molly’s wrists, which had the effect of hoisting her up till she strained on tiptoes.

    “Oh dear! What are you doing, Mr. Jack? Please let me down! These ropes won’t come off, and they’re hurting my wrists.”

    “I don’t propose to let you down quite yet, my dear,” was my calm retort as I approached her. Wide-eyed, and her face flushed, with that magnificent bosom of hers beginning to heave against the bodice of her frock, she at once rekindled within my loins the ardent flame so dear to Priapus, and one which had burned with so fierce a warmth on that other occasion when her buxom and officious mother had brought her to me for the purpose, as she had hoped then, of foisting Molly off on me as my nuptial consort.

    “There,” I said at last as I stepped back and pretended to study her, “you are quite properly prepared for the resumption of our unfinished business, Miss Molly Bashe.”

    “Sir, this is ungallant and unworthy of you,” Julia Denton protested from her chair of treachery. She made ineffectual attempts to rise, but of course the mechanical contrivances of that piece of furniture quite foiled them.

    “It’s quite useless to struggle, Miss Denton,” I remarked, “and I advise you to conserve your strength so that your undivided attentions may be given to your lovely companion. She has un-pardonably offended me and impugned my honor as a gentleman, which I cannot and will not tolerate. I am exasperated by now, I can quite assure you, over the insolent way the female of the species employs her supposed advantage of sex by flaunting herself, by insulting, and by taunting, believing that she is inviolate and immune from the consequences of a justly deserved punishment. But this time, Miss Molly Bashe, I intend to show you that I do not subscribe to this policy in the least.”

    “Oh, Lordy, what do you mean, Mr. Jack? What are you going to do to me?” Molly Bashe exclaimed, glancing at her friend in the chair of treachery.

    Inwardly, I could hardly suppress my delighted amusement at the consummate artistry this pretty brunette was now displaying. Yes, I had completely misjudged her that afternoon in the Snuggery when I had initiated her into the mystic rites of Cythera. The little minx had evidently acquired a gluttonous taste for more of the same, and I was assuredly in the mood to nurture her newly acquired appetites to the very limit of my power!

    I was, of course, in no hurry whatsoever. Foremost in my mind was the problem of what pretext to use to condemn Miss Julia Denton to this very same punishment and execution of it, although the delicious Molly had already slyly intimated to me that her companion was secretly yearning to be forced. But I decided to play the tune by ear and to discover what subtle and newly rewarding harmonies would come from it as Molly Bashe reacted to each minute progression of her “punishment.”

    But I now addressed myself to Miss Julia Denton, whose flashing eyes, heaving bosom, and delightfully flushed color indicated that she was overwhelmed by my unexpected tactics towards her friend. “The lesson which you are about to see, Miss Denton,” I now expatiated, “is one that every pretentious girl should learn so that she will not make the error of riding roughshod over the males of this world, who are bound by our smugly conventional code to be gentlemen at all times. There are occasions, Miss Denton, when a gentleman is heartily disgusted at having to be such and would far rather revert to the one honest, candid and I may say-instinctive kind of behavior which impels him most sincerely and honestly… by that I mean, by acting like a man of parts and of virility and full mastery over the justly weaker sex.”

    “I demand that you release me at once from this abominable chair, and you’d better let Molly go, unless you want dire consequences!” was Julia Denton’s panting reply.

    There would be dire consequences indeed-but they would rebound against the irritated Miss Denton herself. For the time being, however, she would just have to wait her turn, for in all fairness I was obliged to commence with her lovely brunette companion Miss Molly Bashe, the scheming architect of this ingenious reunion. And to that end, I meant to proceed at once.

    Chapter 5

    And so I regarded Julia Denton with a mocking little smile as I replied to her last indignant commentary with one of my own, which I trusted would consternate her: “You are in no position to demand anything, Miss Denton. But may I suggest that you watch very closely and see how I am about to proceed to the chastisement of your overbearing friend.”

    “Chastisement? Surely you are jesting, sir! You could not dream of offering either of us any harm, unless you are rash enough to wish to be imprisoned for your folly!” gasped the delicious captive in my chair of treachery, horrified.

    “I shall take my chances, but I am afraid that Miss Molly will certainly have to take hers first,” was my taunting reply as I now strode toward the enticing brunette whose wrists had been hoisted by the rope and who was now completely at my mercy.

    Molly Bashe was wearing a charming green frock whose bodice was quite tight, considering the amplitude of her magnificent young bosom. The skirts were very modestly long, down to her trim ankles, yet I could see that they were sheathed in brown clockwork silk hose, and the thought of where they ended and what treasures they caressed made my prick begin to throb with-renewed zeal, remembering also that it had not had solace in quite some little while. I stood facing the delicious brunette, who played her role surprisingly well, for she tried to fling herself back from the ropes which bound her wrists and tractioned her virtually on tiptoe, crying out, “Ohh, what are you going to do, Mr. Jack? For heaven’s sake, do let me down, these ropes hurt my wrists dreadfully, please, sir!”

    “I shall not let you down until you have been properly repaid for your naughtiness toward me, Miss Molly,” I sternly replied. I turned now to a little tabouret to my tight and retrieved a pair of shears which were lying on its top in readiness. Armed with this weapon, I now proceeded to go behind her and to snip the garment’s arms away, taking pains not to touch her finely grained skin during the operation. She shrieked and twisted herself this way and that, while Julia Denton in her imprisoning chair raged at me for performing such an outrageous and dastardly act upon a helpless female.

    The masochistic brunette showed herself to be really a consummate actress as she looked back over her shoulder, her eyes very large and wide with feigned terror, her magnificent bosom heaving wildly, and twisting this way and that in a manner that emphasized the mouthwatering curves of her voluptuous young body. At last the dress fell in a tattered pile at her ankles, leaving her in her chemise and stays and two petticoats. Putting down the shears, I squatted down and dragged the petticoats off to both young women’s frantic protestations. Next came the stays, and now Molly Bashe was reduced to her chemise, which was quite long and went down to her knees and thus hid the elegant lace-trimmed, beribboned white batiste drawers which clung about her bottom and tasty plump loins.

    “Oh for God’s sake, Mr. Jack,” she cried, “you’re certainly not going to undress me all n-n-naked in front of my friend? In the name of decency, don’t let her see this-I implore you, Mr. Jack!”

    Into her voice there was exactly the right inflection of quivering fear and shame, but I told myself that her somewhat elderly fiance Arthur was a decided idiot not to have penetrated the affectatious mask which his betrothed assumed. If he had been more direct with her and treated her the way a doting father might have done a mischievous daughter-which is to say, administered a sound smacking-she would not have come here this afternoon in search of erotic assuagement in view of the expected drouth which would be hers when she became the bride of the India-bound milksop. And I told myself, since I felt charitably inclined (and who would not, with such a harem awaiting my own happiness within the weeks ahead?), that I would see to it that this Arthur of hers should not leave England without first being fully informed as to the really lascivious nature of his bride-to-be. I should hate to think of the excitably nervous and exquisite Molly Bashe having to toss and turn unrequited on her nuptial bed out there in darkest India, where one puts up mosquito netting and takes care not to step into one’s boots without first shaking them out. So primitive a clime deserved a pagan honeymoon, but from what my willing brunette victim had already told me in secret confidence, she would spend a very dreary time in that exotic outpost of the British Empire. Yes, I told, myself, I would pay Arthur a little visit in a day or two and acquaint him as man to man with the proclivities of Lady Betty’s only daughter… but of course without slandering her reputation, for I may be lecherous but am no cad!

    Now it is said that if one casts one’s bread upon the waters, it comes back a thousandfold. And so, having already decided on this kindly deed worthy of a good Samaritan-oh, this ineffectual Arthur of hers would one day be intensely grateful to me when he lay between the sheets with this quivering morsel of pulchritude! — I advanced to claim my own reward for my good deed. There would not, you see, be time to wait for this bread to return to me with all that interest, for the luscious loaf itself would be in far-off India and never more within my appreciative clutches.

    There was no need to use the shears on the chemise, for the shoulder straps unbuttoned quite simply, and so I stationed myself behind the delicious captive and began to unfasten the right strap.

    “Ohhh no, in the name of humanity!” Julia Denton cried shrilly from her chair, “this is unworthy of a gentleman, it’s monstrous, it’s atrocious!”

    “Pray spare me your dissertation on morality, Miss Denton,” I coolly observed as I completed the unfastening of that first strap, and Molly Bashe uttered a wild little squeal and wriggled forward as she felt it drop and expose one magnificent naked tittie, pouting coral bud and all!

    I could not help but notice that Julia Denton, for all her indignation, had not been able to resist the temptation of peeping at her dear friend who found herself in so beleaguered a situation. I remarked only: “For the time being, at any rate, Miss Denton, I do not lay claim to being a gentleman, and if you had been paying attention a little while ago, you would have understood perfectly well why. I pray you, therefore, content yourself with watching, because the lesson will be most salutary to you both, and perhaps remind you that men are not to be flouted with impunity.”

    And with this, stepping to the left of my appetizing young brunette captive, I unfastened the buttons of the left strap, and the garment slithered down her body, not without reluctance because of its rather snug cling to her mouthwatering person, till it rested at her ankles in a frothy pile.

    “Ohhhh! How can you, Mr. Jack?” Julia Denton cried out again, struggling against the perfidious arms of the chair which held her prisoner, “Cover her up, do cover her up, it is scandalous!”

    “It would be more scandalous if I permitted her to go about so lasciviously in only her drawers, Miss Denton,” I whimsically retorted, “because one of my particular axioms is that a young lady is far more indecent when she is naked to the waist than when she is completely naked.”

    Her mouth gaped at this piece of sophistry, but Molly Bashe continued to fling herself this way and that, her beautiful breasts jigging and bouncing in the most prick-hardening manner. The dimpled sculptuary of her bare white back, the elegant hollowing of that lovely spinal column, the soft shoulders and the intimate glimpse of the dark tufts of private hair growing in the soft niches of her armpits caused-I here unabashedly admit (and if there is a pun to be found in that adverb, it is purely spontaneous, believe me!)-my prick to experience an almost intolerable aching spasm. But now I had to do with the drawers, which were lace-trimmed and very flouncy about the legs, and went down to about midthigh. The elastic waistband was quite tight, and it resisted my initial attempt to drag the garment down in a single whisk, which would surely have been dramatically effective for the astounded Julia Denton. But at this point Molly Bashe lunged forward with a shriek, “No, no. I forbid you to, sir! You shan’t strip me naked, you just shan’t! Oh Julia, if ever you were my friend, I pray you not to look at my shame!”

    I could detect on the lovely bare sides of my almost naked brunette captive a fine moist sheen, undeniably that of perspiration, and the delicate aromatic pungency of that same effluvium emanating from her armpits told me that Miss Molly Bashe was experiencing the most exquisitely lewd reactions to this little play-drama in which she proposed to be the terrified and abused and helpless victim. No, this perspiration-since she was so delicately bred, I could not demean her by referring to it as sweat-was not really that of agony, but rather that of anticipatory lust.

    Capriciously, I decided to prolong the complete unveiling of this most convincing young actress, in order to impress her companion all the more. I therefore grasped with thumbs and forefingers at the sides the waistband of Miss Molly Bashe’s tight drawers, as if to drag them down, and at the same time she gave a wild cry of “Oh my God, please, Mr. Jack, please leave my drawers on, I’m begging you!” as if she were about to meet the impalement of a readied phallic weapon. But instead of relieving her of her drawers, I simply snapped the elastic so it stung her bare sides, and she squealed and wriggled in the most fascinating way while I moved off to one side and with mock sternness, decreed: “For the time being, and in order not to shock the maidenly modesty of your companion, Miss Bashe, you may retain your drawers. However, when you have had enough of the commencement of your chastisement, you will signify this to me by begging me to remove those drawers of your own free will, do you understand?”

    “I would rather die, sir, than voice so indecent and shocking a plea!” the lovely brunette, her face flaming, passionately declared.

    I had not exactly been blind to what this “victim” had thus far exposed to my admiring eyes, not in the least. She had large firm upstanding breasts with saucy little nipples and the most adorable areolae imaginable, which at once drew one’s vision toward the tidbits whose crinkly buds now palpitated with each panting breath of her naked bosom. Her fine white skin was quite patrician and, as I recalled from my one foray against it when she hadn’t been accompanied by her opulent mother, extremely sensitive and delightfully satisfying in showing up the marks of a good switching or smacking. Her navel too was a veritable oasis of delight, and for the imaginative male a most beguiling haven for the frictioning pleasure granted his prick; it was wide and shallow, and it seemed to suggest a boldly inviting orifice that would welcome such an instrument. It might be well used as a kind of amorous grindstone on which to whet the spearpoint of my weapon before I sheathed it into its proper place amid the thicket of mossy black curls which covered Miss Molly Bashe’s exquisite cunt.

    There was a desk at the far end of my Snuggery, in whose drawers as well as in whose covered top I kept various artifices for the diversion of my sensual whims. I went to it now, and I was conscious of the feet that my prick was in a ferocious state of inflammation, so that each step I took made my ramrod thrust its battering ram of a head against the fly of my trousers. Even the fact that I had my robe over these conventional garments did not prevent its manifestation from being seen by these two pairs of maidenly eyes. Or, from the theoretical viewpoint, perhaps just one pair, since Miss Molly Bashe was decidedly no longer a virgin-the organ which now swelled so monstrously within my fly could bear witness to that fact!

    Opening the top of the desk, I found a long white ostrich plume awaiting me, as well as a pair of manicure tweezers. I procured them both and returned to face the panting half-naked brunette from her left side, so that she could not very well kick out at me. But then I took the precaution, just in case her excitement exceeded her secret willingness to play the rules of my little game for her own masochistic benefit, of tucking the tweezers and plume into the pocket of my robe, squatting down, and taking the felt belt of my robe out and binding it fast around her right ankle, with the other end drawn round and round a metal ring set into the floor. And this way, she could kick out only with her left foot, whilst I should be left free to proceed at my leisure.

    “Oh, what are you doing to my friend, you hateful, odious beast!” Julia Denton cried out shrilly from the chair of treachery.

    “I have no doubt that if you keep your lovely eyes open, Miss Denton,” I tauntingly remarked, “you will be able to see everything in detail without any need for my humble explanation. Now then, Miss Molly, to work! And remember, when you have had quite enough of this little exercise, you can stop it merely by begging me to pull your drawers off and show yourself quite naked to me for the rest of your good punishment!”

    “I’d rather die first! You inhuman monster, wait till my mother hears of the depraved and monstrous things you are doing to me!” Molly Bashe sobbingly exclaimed. There were tears sparkling in her eyes, but I knew that they were from excitement rather than fear.

    I rose now, took the plume from the pocket of my robe, which I let gape so that my quite intimate and unpresentable attire might be seen beneath-the braces and the trousers against whose fly my manhood made its forward protest-and I was naked to the waist, my somewhat hairy but quite sinewy chest exhibiting the promise of muscularity throughout all my bodily extremities, which assuredly must have been an impressive sight for Julia Denton, the virgin of this visiting pair, judging from her stupefied gasp of “Ohh my! How disgraceful! O, I won’t look, I won’t!”

    She had promptly closed her eyes and screwed up her face into such a rictus of anguished outrage that I was hard put to keep from laughing, which of course would have ruined the entire show. I turned back to contemplate my beautiful self-offered sacrificial victim, and she arched herself forward a little in the most suggestive manner, her lips parted as if to speak, but I could understand what she had to say without the necessity of words. She longed for what was about to be inflicted on her. And if I had lowered those drawers of hers as I had first intended, I have no doubt that I should have found some telltale moisture in the vicinity of her only recently deflorated love-slit!

    But at this point, I did not much care whether Miss Julia Denton saw or did not see the manifestation of my ardor, for she was going to be introduced to its cogent and undisguised structure after I had proceeded with her brunette companion. My back was to her now as I stood at Molly’s right side, facing her and at some distance. Slowly I extended the white ostrich plume toward her right breast, and her eyes widened and she tried to throw herself backwards. I was glad that I had taken the precaution of securing her right ankle to the floor ring, because this further constricted her movements and limited her range of liberty. The tip of the plume therefore touched the lovely crinkly bud of her nipple, and she caught her breath and her dark-blue eyes stared down at it in a kind of fearful suspense, not quite knowing what sensations would be aroused by this seance as compared with those of the only other occasion on which she had visited my sanctus sanctorum.

    Delicately I grazed the lovely rosebud on that snowy loveglobe of hers until I could perceive that it was quivering and stiffened, the undoubted result of a tumescence brought about by this insidious attack upon one of the most sensitive thresholds of her erogenous system. Miss Molly Bashe was a very gratifying victim, I must give her full credit. With such a charming damsel at one’s disposal, one could readily follow step by step the progression of dalliance and chastisement which would lead to coital culmination. The angry throbbing of my stiffened cock informed me that it would be grateful for a shortened dalliance, but as I have always maintained the sacro and the cranial regions of the male are often contradictory; my mind therefore overruled my loins because my mind knew that the longer I kept Miss Molly Bashe in sweet insidious torment, the more Herculean satisfaction I myself should obtain, however long the waiting.

    The plume now tickled her midriff and made its way to the dainty nook of her navel, tickling the bellybutton back and forth with a maddening slowness and insistence. Miss Molly Bashe squirmed and twisted herself, looking up at the ceiling, but keeping her eyes demurely closed. The tautness of her ripe young body was really an esthetic treat for my appreciative eyes; under the legs of her drawers I could observe the outline of the garters which held up her hose, and these sheaths shaped out in the most delightfully snug way the contours of her calves and thighs. Now that I had no chorus of beautiful female sycophants but could myself alone delectate over every minute nuance of this scene in my Snuggery, I began to believe that Miss Molly Bashe was even more mouth-wateringly desirable than when I had enjoyed her and her mother together on that previous occasion.

    My feather now rose to the other breast, caressing the undercurve and thence to the left side and towards the armpit. “Ohh-aaahhh-ooohh!!” I heard her gasp, and there was a feverish and tremulous quality to these sounds, ononomotopoeic music which so graphically detailed both her physical and mental reactions to my dalliance.

    In the curls of her armpit hair, I could perceive glistening globules of perspiration, and the smell of her naked skin was very heady. Coupled as it was to the delicate and persuasive jasmine scent which she had apparently applied before her visit to me on this afternoon, it was really an aphrodisiac-though I can assure you, dear reader, that my prick needed no such stimulant, being already impatient over the delay of its juncture with the soft twitching pink lips of Miss Molly Bashe’s deliciously responsive vulva.

    I therefore continued to caress not only the side and the undercurve of her left breast but also the very sensitive armpit, and then down the side along the ribcage and back along the navel to her right side, whereupon I ascended the ostrich plume to the breast with which I had begun the session. Molly Bashe was squirming and twisting her loins in the most unashamed way by now. She had planted her left foot as solidly as she could, arching it on the toe of her dainty shoe, and she had also widened the gape between her delightfully stockinged legs as effectively as if I had bound the other ankle to the other floor ring. This maneuver and posture served to make her drawers extremely snug about the plump mound of her cunt, and just out of whimsy I ran the ostrich plume down to that intimate crevice and rubbed back and forth, though of course the drawers protected her from feeling the diabolically exquisite tantalus of this lubricious friction.

    However, since I had moved a little to one side and permitted Julia Denton to stare with unimpaired vision at what was happening to her friend, I was rewarded by hearing that virginal witness utter a choking cry of stupefaction: “Ohhh! My God, poor Molly darling, why did you bring me into the den of such a fiend? Oh, I cannot bear to watch what that beast is doing to you, helpless as you are!”

    I did not rebuke Miss Julia Denton for her insults of “monster” and “beast” as yet. When her turn came, she would pay full interest upon them, and I had no doubt she would be even readier to overcome her debt than psychologically she was now. Therefore, ignoring her vivid interjection, which itself gave me a clue to her personality (she doubtless was as affectatious as Miss Molly Bashe, yet inwardly was churning with an unhealthy and impatient yearning to experience the self-same ordeal!) I resumed the tickling with the ostrich plume. But now I went behind the squirming half-nude brunette and brought the ostrich plume down along the delightfully hollowed spinal column from her nape to the waistband of her drawers and back again, tickling her and making her wriggle and hunch her lovely white shoulders and turn her face back to me to reveal that her dark blue eyes were by now very humid and supremely dilated. It was a fine beginning!

    Chapter 6

    Now I stood behind Miss Molly Bashe to observe the elegant sculptuary of her bare white back and the adorable dimpled shoulders, as well, I confess, as to observe at closer range the magnificent jut of her bottom, encased in as it was in only the snug fitting drawers. I could not resist patting those sumptuous, resilient cheeks, and the brunette gave a startled little cry, arching forward while at the same time she turned her flushed face back over her shoulder to determine what I intended to do. By now, I thought I had detected more genuine than simulated modesty in her reactions, and I had no doubt that the emotional excitement of the moment had begun to carry this secretly eager masochist into an actual involvement with her role, one that far transcended the feigned pretense which she had thus far conveyed. Also, since I was behind her, I no longer blocked the view from the horrified and scandalized eyes of Miss Julia Denton, who remained imprisoned in the chair of treachery. Seeing her friend half naked and tied up and already showing the effects of my initial attentions now so absorbed this prim virgin’s interest that she had quite forgotten about the likelihood of sharing the fate of Miss Molly Bashe… which I fully intended for her to do.

    I took the manicure tweezers now in my right hand while transferring the ostrich plume to my left, and I playfully took hold of the plumpest cranny of the brunette’s right buttock between the little silver jaws and pinched delicately. An enchanting squeal promptly followed, as Miss Molly Bashe jerked her loins forward. Nothing daunted, I put the tweezers to the left buttock and applied a nasty little pinch which produced an even louder and longer squeal: “OWWW! Ohh, that hurts! For heaven’s sake, what do you mean to do to me?”

    “I believe that I earlier mentioned,” I said coolly, “that it would be up to you to beg me to remove your drawers. I am simply amusing myself until you find it possible to pronounce those very words which you said, I believe, that you would rather die than utter. If that truly be the case, then you must make up your mind to endure a great many more pinches on this insolent backside of yours.”

    And with this, I fell to pinching the cheeks of her bottom alternately, first left and then right, nipping here, pinching there, attacking first the base of the left globe, then the outer slope of the right hip, then the lower right summit perilously near that widening furrow which separated both succulent hemispheres, and so on, so that Miss Molly Bashe would never know exactly where the wicked little jaws would bite next and hence was kept in a frantic and perpetual state of wriggling.

    As she lunged this way, twisted that, squirmed and gyrated, her bare breasts danced in the air, demonstrating all their firm elasticity and jounciness. From time to time I cast a covert glance at Miss Julia Denton’s face and was pleased to find that it was flushed, that her eyes were very wide and almost stupefied, and that her lips parted in an ambiguous expression which might be taken as readily for outraged virginal modesty as sensual excitement. For if what Miss Molly Bashe had told me about her friend was actually true and Julia Denton desired to lose the onerous burden of her virginity but without herself taking any forward step toward that naughty and unladylike conduct, then my plan must include utterly terrorizing her until she would have to admit that she was overcome entirely by force and so could not help ultimate capitulation. That was the way she would rationalize it in her complex psyche, I was certain.

    I must confess that I was vastly impatient to be able to compare the reactions of both beauties whilst undergoing the same lingering and uncomfortable treatment. But that too must come later. For the moment, it was a question of drawing Miss Molly Bashe to the very end of her pretended “resistance” so that she could indulge to the full her sly naughtiness and procure for herself the salacious thrills which being “forced” by me as her “heartless ravisher” should accord her.

    For a time, therefore, I stopped the wicked little pincers, and I resumed the feathering all over her back and shoulders, the nape of her neck, even the lobes of her dainty ears. Squeals and sobs continually emerged from my half naked captive, and I could see her slim little fingers claw the air as she called upon herself for a supreme “defiance” of my “wicked and ruthless villainy.” But the singular thing was that I was as lecherously excited now as if in point of fact Miss Molly Bashe was still actually a virgin and holding out to the very limit of her true endurance to preserve her cherished hymen to the bitter end. I really was grateful to the little minx, the more so for having brought me so tasty a new plum for my passion pudding!

    I paused for a moment now and stared boldly at Miss Julia Denton, whose eyes met mine. Her face was flooded with crimson as our glances exchanged, and then she blurted in a hoarse and unsteady voice, “It is wicked, what you are forcing me to watch, sir! To torture a helpless girl like this so shamefully, to gloat over her helplessness, and to force me to watch without being able to aid her, all this is unworthy of a true gentleman!”

    “I quite agree with you, Miss Denton,” I said most cheerfully. “If, however, you have any complaints now that you find yourself in a most trying situation, you have only your friend to blame for having brought you here. The tricky little baggage knew perfectly well that I still had a score to settle with her, and it would have been wiser for her and less risky for you, believe me, Miss Denton, had she come alone.”

    “Why, what do you mean by that, sir?” the prisoner in the chair of treachery exclaimed, her eyes growing very wide and incredulous as just a hint of the horrid truth was made evident to her.

    I shrugged. “Simply, Miss Denton, that since you have already labeled me a beast and a heartless monster, I shall now have a score to settle with you, once I have dealt with Miss Molly as she so richly deserves. Ponder on that whilst I resume my vengeance on her charming person!”

    Now I took the feather and began to tickle Miss Molly Bashe’s bare sides and armpits, whisking the white plume around the generous curves of her firm panting naked titties, rasping the tip against the swollen darkening nipples, tracing the circles of those exquisite areolae, drawing the plume back down the hollow of her spine and visiting all of that lovely expanse before me, from the nape of her neck to the tight elastic waistband of those drawers which were her only veil. Her twistings and wrigglings increased, as did her frantic little wordless wails and sobs and gasps, but there were times when her paroxysms almost threatened to put an end to my vaunted self-control. For by now my prick was raging inside its prison and it demanded satisfaction of sweet Miss Molly Bashe’s most intimate sanctuary.

    Somewhat hoarsely, as I lowered the plume, I demanded: “Perhaps you are ready now, Miss Molly, to ask a favor of me?”

    Her body stiffened, her head tilted back, and as she closed her eyes she gasped, “Oh, never! I won’t, I won’t be so shameless as to let you see me all naked, Mr. Jack! Do your worst, I would rather die a thousand times over than offer myself to your wicked ways!”

    “Oh, you poor thing, you brave darling,” Julia Denton almost hysterically exclaimed, “Don’t give in to that awful brute! Oh, I wish I were a man, I would avenge the shame he has brought upon you!”

    “And I, conversely, Miss Denton,” I retorted, “give thanks to the Creator that you are what you are and not, heavens be praised, a man.” Then I went around to face the palpitating, flushed and squirming half naked brunette and resumed: “Well, Miss Molly, so it is a duel between us a l’outrance? We shall see who proves the stronger. Prepare yourself for some new and unusual sensations!”

    With this, I held up the tweezers before her dilated and humid eyes, and I placed the tiny steel jaws against her left nipple and gave it a sly little tweak.

    “Ohhh-ahhh, Oh, sir, sir, not there, oh for heaven’s sake not there!” Miss Molly Bashe sobbingly panted as she arched herself forward to make certain that the cruel jaws did not grip her tender lovebud too possessively, “I can’t stand such torment, truly I can’t, sir! Oh sir, this is unworthy of you, Mr. Jack!”

    “You find the tweezers too painful for those lovely breasts of yours, Miss Bashe?” I mockingly taunted. “Then I shall see if I have something less capable of defacing the loveliness of your naked bosom. Really, Miss Bashe, you have no idea how fetching you are naked to the waist and with those pert and saucy nipples of yours dark and stiff as if you were in heat for a lover!”

    This remark brought an aghast, “Ohhhh!!” from Miss Julia Denton in her chair, and made Molly Bashe close her eyes and shiver voluptuously as I now walked back to the desk, put away the ostrich plume and the tweezers for the time being, and took up a silver envelope cutter. Returning to face the half naked young woman, I held the point of the envelope cutter between my left thumb and forefinger, bent back the broad handle with my right thumb and forefinger, and, aiming it at the under curve of her right breast, let fly with a most emphatic “Smack!”

    The effect was magical! I could see at once a bright red splotch on the fair white skin of that bare tittie, while at the same time Miss Molly Bashe dragged at her wrists, lunged backwards with a strangled “Oww-ohhhooooh! Ooh, please, it stings, it hurts, not there, not there, sir, I implore you!”

    “What is this you ungrateful little wretch?” I cried, feigning vexation. “Yon are not satisfied with either the tweezers or the envelope cutter? But you will just have to put up with it, unless you wish me to take the tweezers and pinch your nipples till they are excruciatingly sore.”

    “Oh dear, oh heaven, oh let me off, I did not believe you would go so far with me, sir,” Miss Molly Bashe now wailed, and there was just a trace of convincing sincerity in her tone which led me to believe that she had not quite expected so rude and prolonged a prelude to my actual “rape” of her delicious person. Yes, I began to see through her naughty little plan all too well. But she had not earned favor enough with me to escape a little annoyance and discomfort before she was provided with the erotic assuagement which she sought.

    I moved now to the other breast, once again held my envelope cutter as an attacking weapon between left and right thumbs and forefingers, took careful aim and applied a sharp “Spattt!” against the very center of her left breast, just below the areola.

    “Oww! Oh don’t,” Miss Molly squealed, as she made a wild lunge backwards, her splotched bare breasts dancing and jouncing in the most salacious way. But I followed that first attack on her left breast with two more stinging flicks, one on the outer left curve of the luscious white-skinned globe, the other exactly on the other side towards the valley which separated those two plump firm love-globes. Her head fell back and her eyes rolled, and her mouth gaped in strident wails as she twisted her hips this way and that in a desperate attempt to avert the chalorous smack.

    “This has a much lovelier sound than the tweezers, don’t you agree, Miss Bashe?” I caustically inquired.

    “Ohhh-ahh-oh my Lord-oh, sir, sir, it’s not the sound, it’s how it feels-oh, you are killing me, you are certainly killing me!” she moaned.

    Chapter 7

    I now cast off my bathrobe and undershirt to indicate to both my charming visitors that I meant business and need no longer disguise my intentions toward either of them. The sight of a half-naked man was apparently distressing to Julia Denton, for I saw her grimace and turn her face away and close her eyes. What would it be like, I wondered to myself, when I was stark naked and the pronounced bulge at the fly of my trousers became palpable and crude reality.

    I now turned back to delectable Molly Bashe, who continued to squirm and gasp as the flurried sensations of my dalliance commenced to take ascendancy over her feminine nerves. Lifting up the envelope cutter, I drew back the handle and let it fly against the base of her right breast, directly in the sweet white center. It made a most impressive crisp smack, and the brunette again jerked backwards, dragging at her wrist bonds.

    “I propose to keep this up indefinitely,” I told her as I moved to the other breast and drew back my instrument, “so if you have any words to address to me, you had best choose them carefully.” And with this, the metal implement went “Spattt!” against the inner curve of her left breast, once more not only registering a hugely satisfying impact but also immediately splotching the delicate white flesh of that succulent loveglobe.

    “Aiiii! Ohh, please don’t! For heaven’s sake not there, for mercy’s sake!” she wailed as her hips executed a frenetic wriggle from side to side. But for all her protests and apparent display of discomfort, I noticed that she had her free leg thrust well out to the left as if it too were bound to the floor ring, and thus, exaggeratedly straddled, she made herself all the more vulnerable and also provocative to my assault.

    To vary the little game, I lowered the envelope cutter and let it fly right against her navel, taking her quite by surprise. “Owww-oohhh!” was her sobbing cry, as she jerked her bottom backwards in great haste and turned her face from side to side, her forehead furrowed as if in the deepest concentration.

    “You seem to have many sensitive regions, Miss Molly,” I remarked as I now proceeded to cup her left breast in my left hand and draw back the implement in my right. “But I think I much prefer smacking your naughty bosom, which you have been flaunting at me so naughtily. Your mother, with all due respect to her inestimable qualities in other directions, apparently never taught you the sweet maidenly decorum which it is necessary to demonstrate toward a gentleman if you wish his conduct to remain impeccable.” And after this sententious little preamble I brought my right hand down with a short quick stroke to bring the head of the envelope cutter right against her nipple, flattening the tender bud down into its lovely coral areola.

    “Oww Ohhh-AARRHHH, oh, Mr. Jack, for Lord’s sake, have mercy, I can’t stand it there so hard, I can’t, truly!” my lovely and secretly willing victim squealed. The tears which broke from her dark blue eyes and rivuleted down her flushed cheeks were not entirely those of a gifted actress; there could be no doubt that Miss Molly Bashe was becoming distressingly aware of the sensitivity of her major erogenous threshold.

    “You shall have it there and nowhere else until you beg me to take down your drawers,” was my heartless ultimatum, and even as I uttered it, I heard Julia Denton utter a strangled: “Ohh, is there no one who will save us from this cruel brute?”

    “No one, I fear, Miss Denton,” I courteously observed as I turned toward her while I continued to cup Molly Bashe’s right breast and lift the envelope cutter in my right hand over it like a Damoclean sword. “In this world, I fear, one must look to oneself for all resources. But Miss Molly has within her the power to halt this little penance any time she chooses. Reflect upon that, Miss Denton, for I would not have you think that I am other than a man who proceeds out of pure logic and purpose.”

    “I–I-think you’re a scoundrel, yes-sir,” she spluttered, her face getting very red, and she again closed her eyes. But the turbulent upheaval of that pair of very delightful breasts which I was dying to see exposed told me that she had been emotionally overwhelmed by what she had seen and heard-and it was only the beginning!

    “If you refuse to look, Miss Denton,” I added as I lifted my right hand still higher over Molly Bashe’s panting satiny white bubbie, which by now was quite vividly marked with bright crimson splotches from the envelope cutter, “you only compel me to wrest your attention back to your friend by means of augmenting her much deserved chastisement.” So saying, I made a brisk downward sweep of my right hand, which sent the head of the envelope cutter bouncing off the base of the luscious globe, and Molly Bashe threw back her head and squealed in her most high-pitched tone, “Eeeee-owwouuu!!!! Oh, dear Mr. Jack, for God’s sake don’t keep hitting me on my poor breasts, you’ll mark me for life, they’re so tender, I can’t stand it, I implore you to be merciful!”

    “Perhaps this one should have a momentary rest, I agree,” I said ironically, “so let us turn our attention to the other.”

    “Oh not that either, oh for Lord’s sake, must you go on punishing me so cruelly?” the brunette sobbed as my left hand now cupped the other luscious loveglobe and lifted the implacable envelope cutter above its heaving turret.

    “I must be cruel to be kind, which is a line from a very famous play which I’m sure you ladies have witnessed,” was my mocking observation as my envelope cutter came down with a loud “Smack” that fairly made Miss Molly Bashe jump and then twist her hips from left to right and jut out her bottom as she lunged away from me.

    Another two or three flicks followed over the same area, and finally Molly Bashe sobbingly exclaimed, “Ohh, ahh, I can’t bear any more of this, I truly can’t! What must I do to have you stop, oh tell me, tell me, for I cannot stand this awful pain!”

    “Your memory is failing you, my dear Miss Molly. But I will indulge you for this once alone. You must beg me humbly to take down your drawers and proceed with your real punishment, which will be the smacking of your big naked bottom!” was my answer.

    “Oh heavens, how bestial, how depraved!” Julia Denton cried from the chair of treachery, and once again futilely struggled against its catches. “Must a decent and well bred young woman be subjected to such odious and barbarous treatment? Must I be forced to watch while you wreak your disgusting sensuality on my poor helpless friend?”

    I glanced at Molly Bashe, and her humid and dilated eyes seemed to flash me a message. “Why, no, Miss Denton,” I slowly remarked. “I shall be inclined to spare your friend on the condition that she aids me in letting you expiate your own naughtiness. I will not brook lightly those insults you have been flinging at me ever since we entered this room.”

    “Ohhhh!!!” Words cannot describe the disbelief in Julia Denton’s voice, nor even begin to picture the mingled play of emotions on her lovely, haughty and supercilious features.

    I turned back to the half-naked brunette, and again gripping her left breast with my left hand, I applied three stinging cracks with the head of the envelope cutter right over her darkened, stiffened nipple. When her wails and cries and lungings had subsided, I demanded, “Are you ready now to mitigate your punishment by aiding me with your overbearingly arrogant friend, Miss Molly, or shall I continue for a little while longer? Perhaps a bouquet of freshly cut nettles flicked against your bosom will give you pause to think.” And with this I pretended to walk back to my desk, though I actually had no such a bouquet ready. Nettles leave ugly blisters, and while they produce a sensual heat which often leads the sufferer to exchange it for a different and more pleasing kind of lustful heat, by which I mean fucking, I am too fastidious to leave permanent marks on the lovely flesh of my partners in these diverting amorous games.

    Nonetheless, my false maneuver convinced Molly Bashe that I meant to carry out the threat and she screamed, “Oh don’t do that! I’ll do whatever you want, I swear I will, only spare me and I’ll do anything you say!”

    “Take care, Miss Molly,” I teased, “you have just given me such a carte blanche as would abandon all the chaste principles with which your mother must have tried to imbue you. However, I will take your avowal in its immediate sense, which is to say that you are to help me with Miss Denton!”

    So saying, I crouched down and untied her right ankle, and then loosened the wrist ropes, and Molly Bashe gasped and at once covered her panting and well splotched bosom with her arms, her eyes very bright and shining and wide. There was no doubt that she was becoming as erotically excited as I myself, and I meant to make of her an ally in the progressive stripping and smacking of delectable Miss Julia Denton.

    “Very well,” I said sternly to the quailing half-naked brunette, “you will now keep your promise to me, or back you will go for a good deal more smacking on your bosom, and this time it will be with the nettles which I promised. Come help me fix Miss Denton’s wrists in this other set of ropes.”

    “Oh no! Don’t you dare! you horrible man, I won’t let you! Molly, Molly, how can you help him? Oh, I see it all now, the two of you have conspired against me-you’ll pay for this, both of you! Let me go-help! Oh help me someone! What are you going to do to me-oh no-don’t tie me-stop-oh Molly, Molly, I thought you were my friend! Oh heavens, it’s vile of you both!”

    Miss Julia Denton wailed and fought like a tigress, but I had interjected to Molly that if she dared let her companion go, her bottom as well as her bosom would pay dearly for it. I think too she was frantically eager to see the haughty beauty bound and stripped and smacked, and she went to it with a will. In a few moments, the two of us had dragged the fuming and angrily protesting Julia Denton under a companion pair of ropes very close to those which had imprisoned Molly Bashe’s slender wrists, and soon the fair beauty found herself standing on tiptoe with her arms dragged high above her head, ready for any advances which I cared to make.

    “Now then, Miss Molly,” I said hoarsely, for you can imagine how furiously stirred I was by now after all that had taken place, “if you wish to escape the punishment I planned for you, you yourself are going to undress your friend down to her drawers and hose and shoes just as you yourself are now. Failing that, you shall go back to the ropes, and I myself will take down your drawers and the nettles will find whether your bottom is as tender as your bosom!”

    “Oh no. No, I’ll do what you want, Mr. Jack,” Molly Bashe cried as she fairly rushed upon the horrified Julia Denton and, seizing the shears which I had laid down on the little tabouret, began to snip away at the shoulders and the arms till the pretty frock fell about her horrified companion’s ankles!

    Chapter 8

    I must confess that I was wild with impatience to see Miss Julia Denton stripped naked and to enjoy her virginal charms to the fullest of my erotic capacities. There was that about her which exacerbated my lustful senses to the extreme: her slim haughtiness, the insolent ripeness of her small mouth, the very obviously elegant rondures of her bosom and bottom which her garments presently concealed, and the knowledge that she had been betrothed and then jilted gave me to guess that even though she was technically a virgin, she would not be disinclined to amorous dalliance… the more so as Molly Bashe had already thrillingly assured me in private that her companion was secretly longing to be coerced into a total surrender of her fair person.

    No pasha who ever boasted of his seraglio could wish for a more exquisitely imaginative tableau than that which I now had before me.

    Here was the delightful Molly Bashe, clad only in her drawers, hose and shoes, acting as my executioner’s aide whilst her dearest friend Miss Julia Denton wriggled and twisted frantically with her wrists drawn high above her head and her body stretched till she was compelled to stand on tiptoe. And by now, since the brown-haired beauty was reduced to chemise and drawers and hose and shoes, the very next removal of these paltry shielding garments would display to my enraptured eyes the sweet succulence of her tempting intimate charms!

    Molly Bashe had played her role with an ardor and a realism that even the devotees of Sardou and Zola could assuredly not have found fault with. And I think she had even convinced her friend that here she was, pitiably and shamefully reduced to half nakedness before me, and now compelled under grievous penalties to execute all my orders concerning Miss Julia Denton.

    “I think,” I now commanded, “that we shall have the chemise off. I am curious to know whether Miss Denton’s drawers are as pretty as yours and as coquettishly flounced with lace.”

    “Oh no! My Lord, no, Molly!” Julia Denton cried as she tilted back her head and stared up at her bound wrists and then frantically tried to yank them loose. “You shan’t undress me naked before this horrible beast, you shan’t, you shan’t! Oh, I thought you were my trusted, dear friend-and now you serve me so!”

    “Do not misunderstand me, Miss Denton,” I interposed in a grave voice, “you must not hold Miss Molly guilty of such reprehensible actions, since she is but the instrument at my command. She knows that I have a serious score to settle with her, and she is trying to mitigate her punishment by prompt obedience to my orders. But as for you, my girl, your naughty rebelliousness and defiance of me, and worst of all your insults, which you still continue to express so volubly and loudly, cannot go longer unpunished. The chemise at once, Molly, or I shall have your drawers off and you shall feel a good birch on your naked bottom!”

    “Forgive me, dear Julia, I must, I must, I can’t let him thrash me, please forgive me and understand,” Molly Bashe sobbed as she went about shearing off the shoulder straps of the chemise and letting the garment slither down to Miss Julia Denton’s trim ankles. There was a wild shriek, and poor Miss Denton tried frenziedly to twist herself around so as to hide the effulgent glories of her naked titties from my greedy eyes.

    In vain. And her drawers were, indeed, even prettier than Molly’s; they were made of elegant batiste, pink, with white Valenciennes lace ruffles and bows all around the wide legs which came down to just above her dimpled knees. They were open drawers whereas Miss Molly’s were closed, and I could see at once that all I had to do was to slip my impatient hand up one or the other of those legs and I would reach the treasured nook of Miss Julia Denton’s jilted virginity!

    She was really magnificent! In some ways, I lusted more for her than for Molly Bashe’s delightful treasures, which I had already, as you will recall, dear reader, vigorously and flatteringly sampled. Her breasts were not at all large, but they were high perched on her carnation-satiny chest, and they were like ripening young gourds, perhaps a trifle pendulous but not at all excessive, and certainly firm and satiny, as I was very shortly to learn through my tactile exploration. They had small areolae, of a bewitching dark coral which seemed most intense, and set in the centers of those sweetly angelic haloes appeared two dainty little pink buds, crinkly and twitching with every breath, sweet tidbits, morsels of delight for the lips and the tongue of an appreciative connoisseur such as I prided myself on being.

    Her bellybutton was deep and very narrow, and in the contractions of her luscious half-naked body as she struggled now to shield herself from my profaning eyes it almost disappeared, as if it were winking at me and then hiding naughtily out of view. The waistband of her drawers was extremely tight, for apparently she had sewn a brand-new elastic about them, perhaps with a subconscious foreknowledge that their security would be imperiled later this very day. In her armpits there grew dainty little sprigs of dark brown hair, and her waist was elegantly slender and supple. But the drawers told me that her hips were lithe, her buttocks springy and rather oval-shaped, set tightly together with a gradually widening cleavage between those Callyphygian globes of palpitating maiden flesh. And most tempting of all, though the legs of her drawers were wide, I could perceive the rather prominent mound of her mount of Venus, which was apparently very thickly muffed, judging by the prominence of the bulge at her crotch as she twisted and wriggled hither and yon.

    “Oh, this is monstrous of you, Mr. Jack!” she denounced me, her eyes sparkling with tears, but I noted that she kept her face averted to one side. “What I called you was fully justified by your shameful and cowardly acts! I do not at all repent them, do you understand? You are a wretch and a villain, sir, to force Molly to do your heinous bidding and to have lured us thus with the purpose of offering us these shameful indignities!”

    “Your speech, my dear Miss Denton,” I ironically riposted, “comes straight out of a passage from one of Richardson’s or even Oscar Wilde’s more purplish novels. This is not the true Miss Denton who speaks, but a glibly erudite young bluestocking who has acquired little knowledge of the world but a great deal of useless rhetoric. When I have you down to fundamentals, my girl, I will untap your true self, and then we shall see what verbal fluency you can muster. Now then, Molly, to pay this saucy girl back for calling you a Judas, take that envelope opener and smack her bare breasts with it till I tell you to stop!”

    “Oh, sir, I could never do that to my dear friend!” Molly Bashe ejaculated, with an outraged gasp that did her credit as a buddingly talented actress.

    “In that case, my girl,” was my immediate reply, “I fear I shall be compelled to accord you the same treatment-after I have taken down your drawers and given you a smart birching on your naked bottom! And have no doubt that I shall carry out my threat if you do not comply at once with my order, Molly!”

    “Oh, the vile beast, the infamous coward, to force you, poor Molly to perpetrate such a shocking and villainous act upon your own dear friend!” Julia Denton cried, as again she tugged uselessly at her wrists, serving only to make her magnificent titties jiggle in the most fascinating way, and one that convinced me not only of their satiny and delicious resilience but also that they were flawlessly elastic and springy as a man’s fingers could wish for.

    “You are most unwise, Miss Denton,” was my retort, “to incite my anger further by these quite useless insults. I shall be avenged for them, be very certain, just as I mean to do with your friend here for what she did to me in the past. I would advise you to forsake this recklessness, Miss Denton, or you will pass a very uncomfortable time here in the Snuggery.”

    With this, I turned with a very stern face toward the delectable Molly Bashe and, fixing her with my sternest look, went on: “For the last time, Molly, will you or will you not carry out my order?”

    “Oh, my poor Julia, I have no choice,” Molly groaned as she picked up the silver envelope cutter in her right hand and stepped up towards the absolutely consternated and scarlet-faced Miss Denton. “You’ve heard what he said he’ll do to me if I don’t obey, dear Julia. I know I couldn’t bear it, I truly couldn’t, and if you’re really my friend, you couldn’t expect me to suffer such mortification and distress. So I must apologize to you in advance for what I am going to have to do to you, my poor Julia.”

    Was not this the most consummate little actress who ever made her debut on so intimate and lascivious a stage? I vow, dear reader, I could not have written a better script myself had I been Sheridan or Moliere or Racine. And I perceived Miss Molly Bashe’s sly reasoning: By convincing her beautiful friend that she was being forced under the most dire tortures to comply, however unwillingly, with my cruel and heartless commands, she could secretly share in the naughty delights I meant to pursue with the estimable Miss Denton, which would ideally put her into a proper mood to suffer the same ultimate priapic fate herself-and thus by the roundabout logic so dear to a woman’s mind and heart, she would arrive at her own naughty purpose of seeing Julia stripped and felt and flogged and had without having to admit to herself that she had been a wanton in demanding all this!

    I will admit that this little game of ours enormously stimulated my passions, which as you know had been kept under the severest continence all these past dreary days. But while this dialogue was going on between the women, I feasted my eyes on the haughty features of the lovely and half-naked Miss Denton, admiring the way those artificial and exaggeratedly round curls-over which either she or her hairdresser must have spent an incalculable amount of time-fell with such artful grace over the high arching forehead and at the sides of that lovely haughty head. That small, ripe mouth of hers bespoke an insolent and self-willed temperament, which I was certain camouflaged in turn the most voluptuous precepts of desire, and the bold, dark-brown eyes, which flashed daggers at me now and wished me a thousand times dead for being such a heartless monster, knew, I was sure, how to be humid and tender, how to soften and to dilate in the inexpressible throes of hot, excited girlish come!

    But now it was apparent that Julia Denton desired not to submit too passively to her own secret yearnings of being overpowered against her will and thus able to enjoy the sweetly illicit joys of being forced and fucked without the slightest harm done her highly moral virginity. For instead of closing her eyes and shiveringly awaiting Molly’s smacks with the envelope cutter, she suddenly drew a long breath and cried out vehemently, “No, no, I’ll not submit! This is criminal, vile and depraved! Cannot you see, poor Molly, how this wretched scoundrel is amusing himself at the expense of both of us by forcing you, my dearest friend, to shame and hurt me while he gloatingly enjoys the sight? Don’t come closer, Molly. I shall kick you hard. I mean it!”

    And with this, panting, she kicked out with her right foot, and if Molly Bashe had not suddenly moved over to one side, she assuredly would have had a very badly bruised shin.

    “You wish to kick, do you?” I told the enraged and embattled beauty. “So be it! I have in mind a tableau out of the Folies Bergeres themselves, which will put you in a posture for kicking and yet not let you imperil your tender and lasting friendship for Molly Bashe by actually treating her so abusively.” And with this I turned to Molly and chided: “Put the envelope cutter down on that little tabouret and help me now, for I am going to arrange your impertinent friend in such a way that she will hardly be able to prevent you from obeying me, which you are under duress to do.”

    Molly blushed as she saw my eyes on her rapidly swelling titties, and the little minx must surely have observed that the bulge in my trousers presupposed a certain ardent admiration of her own half-naked charms. But she kept her observations to herself, and very wisely, too, for if she had suddenly avowed her lust for my “avenging weapon” the game would have been up and Miss Julia Denton would have seen through the entire farce. So quickly and silently, taking her cue from me as I pointed to this and that, she aided me, swiftly and with a truly praiseworthy efficiency. She knelt down beside the now frantic Miss Julia Denton, suddenly seized the latter’s left ankle, and hoisted that beautiful leg as far up and out as she could hold it in her soft little hands.

    “Let me go, Molly! Oh, what are you going to do to me? Stop it! And I thought you were my friend! Oh, Molly Bashe, I will never speak to you again from this moment forth. I renounce my friendship, I detest and loathe you for being a pawn in this wicked scoundrel’s evil game!”

    Yes, dear reader, erudite young ladies of the bluestocking variety talked exactly like this, with as didactic and rhetorical a flourish as I have tried my poor best to set down on the pages of my journal. But I also knew that, just like the ornate and rococo ornamentation of our period furniture and the decor of our dwelling places, and exactly like the extravagant overdressing which the women of our generation fancied as being in the mode, once all this cluttering and unessential exterior could be stripped away, then one would begin to hear the most sincere and convincingly realistic expressions of the emotions they would be made to feel.

    “Hold her tightly, unless you want to be put in her place,” I instructed Molly Bashe. Meanwhile, Julia Denton, twisting and wriggling herself in the most salacious manner, tried desperately to break her leg free from Molly’s hold, but quite in vain. I now approached with a cord, wound it tightly around that slim ankle, and made a good knot. Then I walked to the wall and turned the little windlass which lowered a trapeze bar I had but recently installed. When it was at the proper height, about that of Miss Julia Denton’s lovely brown-haired head, I stopped it and returned to seize the free end of the rope about her ankle and make it fast about the bar of the trapeze. Then I made a signal to Molly to release the tethered limb, and we both stepped back to contemplate the haughty and fuming young beauty.

    She uttered a great cry and closed her eyes, and I could see a furious blush spread over her cheeks and even to her earlobes and to her temples, so great was the outrage to her modesty at the awareness of the posture I had put her in. Her drawers were stretched exaggeratedly by the “kick” positioning of her lovely leg. And since the waistband of her drawers was quite tight, as I had already detected, the cling of the fine pink batiste against the lusciously rounded curves of her bottom made it seem as if her firm flesh were about to burst through the thin stuff.

    The gray lisle hose, which disappeared under the legs of these drawers, hardly did her beautiful calves justice. I made a mental note to myself to procure from some very fashionable and perhaps Parisian shop (or perhaps here in London owned by some wise and knowing Parisian female who would have an appreciation of what I was really seeking) to have on hand in my Snuggery various pairs of the finest silk and mesh hose, such as one sees in the music halls of Montmartre. Lisle and cotton are, I fear, for little girls in boarding schools because they are so drab and dowdy. But Miss Julia Denton was decidedly not a little girl. The indecent straddle of her legs accomplished by compelling her left leg to kick out in an extended horizontal plane let me feast my eyes on the tightness of the drawers at her virgin crotch, and now I fancied I could see peeping out from the stretched and almost bursting fabric itself the fine little follicles of pussy-hair, a darker hue than that whose charmingly florid curls fell about the sides of her head and over the top of her forehead in such exquisite profusion.

    All this while, apart from her outcries and her raging looks at both of us, Miss Julia Denton twisted and arched and continued to drag on her bound wrists, making those lovely titties of hers jounce and bob in a simply thrilling manner so far as my cock was concerned. But now it was time to pass into the final phase of this little drama and to explore for myself the true reservoir of Miss Julia Denton’s concealed erotic passions.

    I thereupon called a temporary halt to the proceedings, urging Molly Bashe to stand in readiness with the envelope cutter in her hand near her friend until I returned to put her to the test of that obedience which she had so fervently promised a little while ago.

    Chapter 9

    I repaired to a little closet room just off the Snuggery, where I rid myself of my cumbersome trousers and braces and, naked as the day I came into this joyously adventurous world, donned a magnificently rich red satin bath gown which I belted loosely around my waist, and stuck my feet into a pair of felt slippers much softer than those I had just been wearing. As I put on my bath gown, I observed with satisfaction the bulging meatus of my cock, straining at the proverbial leash to perform its educational functions in the sweet quims of both Miss Molly Bashe and Miss Julia Denton. I marveled at my self-control thus far at not having taken Miss Bashe off into a little side room and there had a brief flurry of amorous engagement with her, solely to take the edge off my blade and give me more commendable restraint to prolong this seance until both damsels should cry quits. But I decided against that because, speaking generally, I loved the dalliance and prolongation of the entire prelude to fucking, and the rude and brief encounter between prick and cunt is satisfying to a man only when he is terribly pressed for time or performing stealthily with a great risk of discovery- and I was in neither circumstance.

    I now returned, and Julia Denton had evidently been talking in a low, hurried voice to my little accomplice, for when she saw me enter she straightened her head, closed her eyes, and uttered a long and anguished sigh, while her body shook and trembled, posed as she was on only one dainty foot and with her arms dragged high above her head so that the half-nakedness of her lovely virginal body was emphasized in all its delectable and desirable temptation.

    “Now I think we may resume, Molly. Take that envelope cutter and start with Miss Denton’s left breast. Apply the smacks slowly, so that she will feel each one for its own good measure of discomfort. We will then see if she is still of a mind to abuse both of us, for I have no doubt that it has hurt you to the quick to hear your dear friend upbraid you so for your good sense in harkening to my strict orders.”

    “Please, oh please no, Molly! For God’s sake, no, don’t do it!” Julia Denton squealed in a most unladylike tone, twisting herself off to the right until the pulley squeaked its protest and the trapeze bar swayed as she tried to jerk her uplifted leg free of its pinioning.

    “Wait a bit, Molly. Let me show you an argument that may persuade you,” I interposed. Going to a bucket in which I had soaking in brine a number of swishy birch rods, some lean and supple, some broader and bushier, depending on what gluteal contours they would be directed against, I took up the thinnest and most flexible of the rods, brandished it until the drops of brine flew in every direction, and, the cloth grip clutched firmly in my right hand, returned to confront my brunette accomplice.

    “You shall have a dozen with your drawers down, Molly, if you don’t begin to carry out my command,” was my warning.

    Molly Bashe hesitated no longer. With a startled little gasp, and giving the birch an apprehensive look, she stepped to Julia Denton’s left side, gripping the envelope cutter by the tapering point, and applied a rather loud and stinging SMACKKK over the outer curve of that beautiful, firm loveglobe.

    Julia Denton tilted back her head, her eyes bulging in their sockets, jerked blindly at her bound wrists, and tried to swerve herself far to the right, with a shrill cry, “Oww, Oh Molly, Oh my Lord, it hurts so dreadfully, I just can’t bear it! I beg of you not to do it again, oh, please don’t!”

    “Continue, Molly, until I tell you otherwise,” I insisted.

    The crisp intonation of the metal envelope cutter against Miss Julia Denton’s naked, panting tittie made my prick fairly bound inside my bath gown, as did, still more, the wild, hysterical cry of pain and distress which tore from Julie Denton’s mouth as she lunged her bottom backwards to put as much distance between herself and that diabolical implement in Molly’s hand as possible.

    “Remember, Molly, that in carrying out my order, you are not proving me a scoundrel, but actually repaying your spitefully-tongued friend for calling you a traitress and a Judas,” I admonished the luscious half-naked young brunette.

    “That’s true, isn’t it? Yes, Julia, you shouldn’t have said that!” Once more, with remarkable aptitude and alacrity, Molly Bashe picked up her cue. “You and I have been friends for ever so long, and you know that it is only because I am ever so afraid that Mr. Jack will take down my drawers and use that wicked birch on my poor flesh that I am forced to do it. That is not the act of a Judas, and you know it!”

    And with this, with a certain righteous enthusiasm she applied another and still louder SMACKK, this one very close to Miss Julia Denton’s left nipple.

    “Aiiii! Owwouuu! Oh Molly, in mercy’s name, stop hitting me there! It stings, the pain is so terrible, I shall faint, I know I shall!” Julia Denton wailed as her half-naked body again executed wild twisting gyrations from side to side, the pulley again creaking its protest.

    The way her back hollowed and the dimples played in her slim shoulders, the way her belly shrank and jutted out, the way those delicious hips threatened to break through the exaggeratedly stretched fabric of her elegantly trimmed lace drawers, comprised a veritable regalia of visual delight for my appreciative eyes. “If you stop before I tell you to, Molly,” I said to her gravely, “you will have earned the dozen with the birch I mentioned a few minutes ago.” This decided the ardent young brunette. Lifting her hand, and impervious to Julia Denton’s cries and fervent pleas, Molly Bashe began to smack the envelope cutter over both naked titties, alternating from left to right, sometimes, in her enthusiasm for the new game, applying two or three hard, crisp smacks over the same area before she returned to the other recently marked and shuddering tittie.

    Each time the envelope cutter cracked wickedly against Julia Denton’s carnation-tinted naked skin, she uttered a piercing squeal and twisted and threw herself in every direction, till I was sure that her drawers would rip apart before much longer.

    Molly Bashe now passed over to the girl’s right side and, putting her hand on the right shoulder, she drew back her right hand and bestowed three or four stinging little smacks over the outer curve of the luscious lovefruit.

    “Owwouuu!!! I can’t stand any more! In the name of mercy, stop it! Oh, if ever you were my friend, I beseech you to stop! AHRRR!! AIII!! Oh, have mercy on me! You are killing me!”

    “I doubt that very much. Miss Denton,” I said ironically, “because judging from your frantic wriggling, which is most unladylike, I may add, you have never shown so much life before, or else I am a very poor judge of such matters.”

    Molly glanced at me and saw me nod imperceptibly. Setting her teeth, she raised the envelope cutter and brought it down right over Julia Denton’s right nipple, right on that tasty little bud, flattening it, but it at once sprang up, seemingly darker and larger than before. Julia Denton was absolutely consternated by the overwhelming torment of that perfidious blow. Her body lunged backward, her head tilted back as she stared through tear-blurred eyes at the ceiling, and she shouted, “Oh stop it! I’ll do anything you wish, only stop, stop, in God’s name! Oh my poor breasts! You’ll mark me for life! You’ve hurt me terribly!”

    “Wait a bit, Molly,” I held up my hand autocratically. “Let’s hear Miss Denton out a bit more. Did I understand you to say, Miss Denton, that you’ll do anything if Molly will stop whacking your naked breasts?”

    Julia Denton’s beautiful brown eyes closed, and a long shudder rippled her salaciously posed, half-naked body. Faintly, in a sobbing murmur, she emitted, “Oh yes… I can’t bear this pain any more… whatever you wish to do with me, for God’s sake do it and get it over with… finish with me and let me go before I faint away of pain and shame!”

    It would have taken very little more to have made me fling off my bath gown, seize Miss Denton’s flaming and panting titties, take hold of my angrily swollen cock, and squeeze it into the little oasis between her gaping posed thighs, but I had just that measure of reserve left in my psyche to hold back, for Molly Bashe would be the first to submit herself to my inordinate rut, and after that, when I had more mastery of myself and less onus to perform with commendation, I would give Miss Julia Denton all the fucking she could endure!

    Chapter 10

    I felt it best to intervene at this moment, since the delightfully posed and helpless half-naked Miss Julia Denton had just expressed a frantic willingness to do anything rather than endure these mercilessly stinging smacks of the envelope cutter which my spirited brunette accomplice Molly Bashe had been directing against her heaving titties. These pink and white loveglobes were by now quite vividly marked with bright red splotches, broadly oval in design and following the contour of the handle of this useful device, since Molly Bashe had grasped it at the tip rather than utilize the middle portion to wield it by. There was also a kind of scrollwork on this handle, engraved by the designer, and it left interesting corrugations on Julia Denton’s satiny-smooth skin.

    There were other signs that indicated to me that my charming visitor, new to these four walls of my lust-lair, which I had always called The Snuggery, was beginning to feel really apprehensive as to whether she had gone too for in letting her friend Molly know that she would not be adverse to a little game of dastardly coercion. Now I very well knew that Molly had purposely planned this visit to get herself once again into my clutches and enjoy the secret thrill of being made to yield to a man’s virility by sheer force which would overcome her will and thus let her delude herself into believing she was still pure as the driven snow; and also that her companion, having been led almost down the primrose path by her unfaithful suitor, was in need of amorous diversion.

    But Julia Denton was not exactly pretending to suffer, as I could well see by the fact that there were globules of sweat glistening in the dark private hair of her distended armpits, that her sides were heaving, and that the skin was so tightly stretched that I could see the adorably formed ribcage pressed against that smooth and now anguish-moistened skin. To me her present attire-or rather lack of it! — was far more exciting than if she had been as bare as Mother Eve herself when she first came into this sinless world. I will admit that I was so enchanted by the vision of her standing on one foot, with her arms drawn high above her head and her other leg stretched out to maximum and the ankle corded to the trapeze bar which made her look like a ballerina executing a dexterous kick, that I found myself reluctant to unveil her most secret charms and have her there before me with her bottom and loins exquisitely naked. Yet the swollen fury of my long restrained prick demanded that I be more reasonable and grant it surcease of its frustrations. So now I approached the trembling young brunette and I demanded, “Wait a bit, Molly! Miss Denton, did I hear you rightly? Are you willing to do whatever I order you to if I stop your friend from smacking your naked bosom?”

    She shuddered violently, tilted back her head and, blinking the tears away from her large beautiful dark brown eyes, passionately exclaimed: “You are a wicked villainous man to take such unjust and undeserved advantage of me, sir! Is it not enough that you humiliate poor Molly and force her to watch this, without offending me with your outrageous and shameful proposals?”

    I laughed softly as I retorted to her: “My dear Miss Denton, you go much too fast! You have not even heard what my first order to you will be, yet already you impute to me improper motives. I think perhaps you are still too bold and forward for a supposedly well-bred and maidenly young woman, so perhaps I shall have your friend continue until you take a more contrite and apologetic tone!”

    With this, I made a sign to Molly to go on, and the naughty vixen seemed actually to take pleasure in this new game. Drawing back the envelope cutter, she at once brought it down with a wicked crack against the base of Julia Denton’s left tittie, and the half-naked young woman uttered a piercing cry and flung herself backwards, but of course her bonds greatly circumscribed her range of liberty and all she did was make those fascinating and firm titties of hers dance and jiggle before my enraptured eyes and, unfortunately for her, cause my prick the most savage surging of unbridled desire. At first I had determined to put Molly Bashe through a deliberately prolonged session of fondling and feathering and whipping before I finally consoled her with a different kind of rod. But now, although her friend Miss Denton was a total stranger to me, I found myself drawn even more passionately to her magnificent young charms.

    “Once again, only harder this time, Molly, and on the nipple!” I therefore commanded. Nothing loath, Molly Bashe drew back the shining implement and brought the oval head down wickedly against the dainty palpitating coral bud of Julia Denton’s left nipple. And the effect was all that could be desired; the half-naked young woman shrieked aloud, turning her face from side to side, her eyes rolling, drowned in tears, her nostrils flaring and shrinking, while her slim fingers clawed the air, then dug into her palms as once again she futilely sought to tear her wrists free from those fettering ropes which dragged her upwards and exposed and projected out to me these all too vulnerable and sensitive fruits of her delightful virgin bosom. Also, her left leg which was extended horizontally as far as it could go, jerked and squirmed at the cords which gripped her slim ankle, and I saw that her batiste drawers would spit along the seams at the crotch and the base of her buttocks if she executed another similar maneuver. Their tightness, which shaped out the absolutely bewitching contours of her behind and marked out the swelling indentation of her crotch where the dark patch of pussy hair flourished, caused me to feel a happy gratitude on behalf of Molly Bashe who had thought of bringing this fair charmer to visit me.

    “Once again and in the same place, Molly,” I ordered, and Molly did not hesitate, even though poor Julia Denton flung herself back with a wild hoarse shout: “Oh my God, Molly, not there again, you’ll kill me! Ohh please noooo!”

    Her eyes glistening, her white teeth sparking as her red lips curved in a sensual smile of joyous sadism, beautiful half-naked brunette Molly Bashe pitilessly responded to that frantic appeal by drawing back her right arm and bringing the envelope cutter down against Julia Denton’s already darkened and swollen left nipple with an angry thwack!

    “Owwwouuuu!!! Oh merciful heaven, I can’t bear it, I just can’t bear it any longer! Oh, Mr. Jack, if you have any mercy, make her stop and order me, instead of letting me be helpless to such unjust punishment directed by my friend’s hand!” she cried out while the tears ran down her flushed cheek.

    “Very well, Molly, you may put the envelope cutter away,” I directed. “However, Miss Denton, the birch that I have laid down there in the tabouret will be for you instead of the envelope cutter if you do not at once confess yourself ready to obey me in whatever I ask. Well? I await your answer.”

    “Ohh-ohh merciful God, what do you want of me then?” Julia Denton panted, squirming and trying to shift the leg which had been left for balance while her other leg stuck out in such an inviting manner. I must confess that I was tempted to take that supple thin birch and apply a few swishing, licking cuts around the tender inside from about the knee on up towards the crotch, and progressively ascending until poor Miss Denton believed that the very last flick would dart into her maiden lovebower. Even that thought made my prick throb again with renewed zeal, which this time would brook no further delay. The time had come, the doom of Miss Julia Denton’s maidenhead was nigh!

    “Ohh, s-sir,” she quavered as she raised her beautiful dark brown eyes and bit her lips, her naked and vividly splotched titties rising and falling in the most erratic cadence, “tell me then what it is that you want and release me from this disgracing and shameful position! If you knew how I am dying of shame to have to stand like this, and it is such a strain on my muscles, and my wrists hurt abominably! Be quick, sir, and announce to me what fiendish and disgraceful desire you have upon my person!”

    I had no doubt that if this coquettish and intellectual miss had so harangued her fiance, it was understandable that he had sought his carnal appeasement in some other female’s more eager and willing arms. This young woman, though undoubtedly possessed of a sensuality which her speech and conduct and now the display of her half-naked body had already suggested, was of that complex and dual personality so often found in the precocious young female who will lead a man on to dream of the unattainable, only to bring him up short by berating high upon a spiritual and intellectual plane which cannot possibly admit of such vulgarity. In other words, dear reader, I began to suspect that the delectable Miss Julia Denton was nothing more nor less than prickteaser.

    “I see that you still persist in condemning me in advance before you have even heard a syllable from me as to my intentions toward you, Miss Denton,” I replied with a mocking little bow which made her gasp and squirm backwards in her bonds. “Very well. I am weary of this parlor game of argument because words are casuistic at best and seldom reveal the honesty of the speaker’s emotions. And since you have given me the name so often, I may as well have the game as well. Very well, Miss Denton, if you wish Molly to stop smacking your naked breasts with that envelope cutter and, after she is tired of that, of directing this thin swishy birch over those same delightful globes, you will ask me very humbly and graciously to put my hand inside your drawers and feel your cunt!”

    There is was, in all its bold candor, and it was purposely said to shock the erudite and enigmatic beauty into revealing in her turn her own sincere emotions. I daresay I succeeded, judging from her horrified loud gasp, and the way her eyes fixed me with a dawning comprehension and then the most furious of blushes. Ah, she understood that salacious, sweetly pronounced and savory word very well, did Miss Julia Denton, or she would not have blushed so. And if she knew the word, she must know the deed to which the word’s sweet tasty virginal embodiment must yield itself… in a word, to my manly and groaning prick!

    “Ohh my God, sir, you cannot expect a decent girl to formulate such a vile request to her heartless seducer!” she murmured in a low shaking voice. “My God, at least have the decency to send my friend away if you are going to torture me until I yield to your iniquities!”

    I confess I was sorely tempted to take her at her word and have a private seance with her. Yet on the other hand the whole point of this exciting afternoon lay in the fact that Molly Bashe, as the arch conspiratress, had slyly arranged this casual visit to my quarters with her friend and had so unexpectedly proposed to me that I subject the two of them to my carnal urges. I wished them therefore both to be present and both to participate at that time I possessed or whipped one so that the other might derive her own stimulating and voyeuristic thrill. For thus, each of these delectable damsels sharing the other’s ordeal and herself affected by it, I should come off superlatively well in the expansion of my own radiant pleasures in the Snuggery.

    That is why I coldly responded: “No, Miss Denton, I shall not send Molly away, for she has not yet had her full punishment. But you, with your bold words and your insults and your continued defiance of me, have altered my schedule for her punishment, so it is you who must first pay the penalty for your brazenness. Hence I ask you again, nay I command you: beg me to put my fingers inside your drawers and feel your soft hairy cunt!”

    Even Molly Bashe, standing beside me breathless with her own excitement, gasped at this violently lewd verbal assault upon the hitherto impeccable chastity of Miss Julia Denton.

    I waited a moment, my eyes glittering at the sight of how sweetly now my captive’s flamingly marked naked titties swelled and receded and how, more than ever, the dark brown curls in her distended armpits had become damp with the seat of her ordeal. I stared also at the lisle-stockinged leg which was held out straight beyond me, and I could see the muscular spasms which were not all caused by the traction of that beautifully shaped limb.

    “Hand me that birch, then, Molly,” I said after a long pause during which my captive remained defiantly silent, contenting herself with blushing and sighing, and closing her eyes as she tried to avert her face from me. “We shall see if a few good cuts from this stinging rod will be more painful than the envelope cutter.”

    “Yes, Mr. Jack, here you are,” Molly exclaimed as she proffered the thin supple bundle of flexible withes.

    Julia Denton’s eyes bulged with horror as she saw me lift the birch slowly and menacingly over her panting titties. “Oh for God’s sake, Mr. Jack, not that, not that on my bosom! Oh, you will kill me for a certainty! I cannot hold out against such pain, oh have pity on my helplessness and at least, in the name of decency, send Molly out of this room-and-and-and-” she began to sob, bowing her head, her shoulders shaking with the muffled sounds of her despair.

    “And what then, pray tell, Miss Denton?” I ironically pursued.

    “I–I will do what you-you want-oh heavens, sir, you are torturing me and making me die of shame by keeping me like this with Molly here to watch and to hear all the-all the awful things you say!”

    “I know this very well, and this too is part of your punishment, Miss Denton. Now you have five seconds to ask me what I wish you to ask, or you shall feel this rod where you have just felt the envelope cutter-one… two… three…”

    “Wait-oh dear Lord, I cannot bear it. Yes-Yes I’ll say it-oh, s-sir, don’t b-b-birch me, and you may p-p-put your f-f-fingers in-into my d-d-drawers-” she babbled. Then, bursting into tears she bowed her lovely head and stood there shuddering violently while my prick gloried in her surrender, for I knew now that it would not be long before she would feel something other than my fingers in that sweet maiden treasure of hers which the almost bursting drawers still concealed.

    “You are still very bold, Miss Denton. I told you to beg me humbly and graciously. Instead, you tell me that I may do this and may do that. You speak as if you were at home in your own salon, giving orders to a footman. No, decidedly, you need chastening, Miss Denton. I think you shall have three good cuts with the birch before I listen to your appeals again.”

    Hardening my heart, beside her frenzied lunges and twists, I applied three light but deftly swishing cuts to both titties, taking care not to strike the delicate nipplebuds at each luscious firm young globe. Nevertheless, the victim tilted back her head and shrieked at the top of her lungs, clawing the air with her slim fingers, digging her nails into her sweating palms, trying to kick her outstretched leg free of the rope which fixed it to the trapeze bar, her body twisting and swaying and the overhead pulley creaked loudly to announce her frantic attempts at evading the stinging kisses of the rod.

    “And now you may speak again, Miss Denton, but take care and choose your words with care. For if they are not satisfactory to me, you shall have six more and not three, and these right over the centers of those tender breasts of yours!” I warned.

    I drew back my right hand and her eyes despairingly fixed upon the uplifted birch, then she fairly shouted, “Oh no! Wait, don’t hit me again-oh my God, I can’t help myself sir, oh please, I beg-I humbly be-ohh-ahh-I beg of you-s-sir, please put your f-fingers inside my dr-drawers and f-f-feel my-my-”

    She could get no further but burst into hysterical tears and bowed her head.

    “That was very good, Miss Denton, so far as it goes, but it does not quite far enough. Once I have my fingers inside your drawers, what do you wish me to feel?” I demanded. And then, to spur her to a suitable and hasty answer, I patted one of her gorgeous titties with the ends of the switches.

    “Ohh, feel my cunt, please feel my cunt, then, but oh my God, don’t birch me there!” Julia Denton screamed.

    I flung the rod to the floor and I advanced against her. Her outstretched stockinged leg trembled and shuddered as I put my left hand on it, my fingertips squeezing the firm elastic flesh between the leg of her drawers and the lisle stockings. Then my right thumb and forefinger edged toward the waist of those pink drawers, inserted beneath to feel the moist warm shivering goblet of her belly, and then slowly and lingeringly descended until to my joy I could feel the beginning of that love garden which was her furry pubis. The fleece was extremely thick and silky, and it was also moist. Now this moisture could be from agony-sweat, but there would be a final test to determine whether it was something far more treacherously informative as to Miss Julia Denton’s most secretive emotions.

    She had turned her face to one side and screwed her eyes desperately shut as if to obliterate and take herself away from this locale. I shot a glance at Molly and saw the brunette, her hands clasped in front of her, leaning forward to watch with shining eyes. I smiled to myself. She had been a perfidious friend indeed, and she would not leave my quarters full absolved of her naughtiness until she too had paid a penalty she had not counted on when first she knocked at my door.

    Julia Denton held her breath as my hand rested on her abdomen, and then she began to shiver and to whimper softly. I could understand her stress and suspense. It was part of my project to ensupple her completely and to make her subservient to my desires.

    Then suddenly I plunged my two fingers down into the very mouth of her soft cunt, and she uttered a strangled: “Ahh-oh my God-ohh s-sir!” So fraught with anguished emotion that my prick very nearly lost its stored-up distillation which was now pledged to the sweet sheath which my fingers meant to find.

    The lips were delicate and dainty, not so fleshy as Molly Bashe’s cunt, but extremely mobile and exquisitely sensitive, judging from her squirming and also the way those dainty petals twitched the minute my fingers brushed their prisms. She groaned and sobbed as I probed my forefinger deeper, and then I came up against the barrier to bliss, the real proof that she was in truth untouched by man though doubtless whetted by her fiance, to that penetration.

    In the moving about of my hand inside her exaggeratedly snug drawers, owing to the outstretched posture of her leg, that which I had guessed would happen, did. I heard a ripping sound, and Julia uttered a piercing cry of “Oh my God, they’re tearing!”

    “Indeed they are, Miss Denton. And since they are already torn and hardly to be salvaged, we may as well have them entirely off,” I said briskly. I imagined that this charming young damsel must be sophisticated enough to know that if a man, at her request, were to probe her tender cunt with his fingers, she could hardly object, in the interest of greater comfort for them both, to remove the constraining veil of these already seam-ripped drawers.

    I slipped my hands to the waistband and ripped vigorously as Julia Denton screamed and shrieked and then bowed her head. Then I sent Molly for pair of shears and then very carefully cut the legs towards the crotch, warning the weeping brunette not to budge unless she wished a rather nasty nick of the sharp blades.

    They dropped to the floor and Julia Denton stood there clad only in her gray lisle stockings with elastic garters, garters covered with pretty flounces of cloth, her shoes, and her blushes. It was a magnificent pose, because it gaped the soft lips of her quim under the dark brown curls and at the same time it let me see the wonderful play of muscles along the inner thigh, and put into relief the jouncy cheeks of her voluptuous pink-and-white-skinned behind.

    I took the birch again and now I flung my bathrobe off and stood before her in all my manhood. She uttered a horrified “Ohhh!” and backed away again, as much as her bonds would allow, but her eyes fixed on my emblem with an unwavering and almost incredulous gaze.

    “Now then, Miss Denton, you will ask me to fuck you,” I commanded. Lifting out the rod, I tapped her pussy with it, using the very tips of the slender withes, and Julia Denton squealed and wriggled frantically and her blushes went down to her throat as well as to her dainty ears.

    “Ohh, no, you shan’t do that to me, you wicked cruel beast-oh Molly, save me, go for help at once, he is going to ruin me, the brute!” Julia Denton cried.

    “If you take one step toward that door which is, moreover, locked against your hand, Molly,” I said dryly, “your drawers shall come down and you shall feel this birch until it is shredded to broken fragments. Kneel down and watch how brazenness and boldness and a wagging tongue are dealt with by a man of character and principle.”

    Molly Bashe at once knelt down and clasped her hands, leaning forward, her magnificent creamy titties rising and falling, her face flushed, her eyes glittering. I could see that the black thatch around her pussy was moist also, and I was reasonably sure that the naughty little minx was experiencing an emanation from her private parts, attributable to the salacious emotions she was undergoing. I was certain that she was somewhat envious that she had not been chosen to be first with me. But I had no intentions of neglecting her, ah no, for I was much too grateful to her for having brought me this jewel of virginity which was Miss Julia Denton.

    But since the lovely naked brunette could not bring herself to utter such shameful words and thus formally in the presence of her friend ask for the sacrifice of her maidenhead, I went behind her to observe the magnificent contours of her shapely bottom. The idea I had had of putting her leg out in front of her had been an admirable one, because it gaped the shadowy groove between those jouncy globes of hers and it made the buttocks flex uncontrollably. I amused myself by giving light little flicks over both cheeks of her bottom, but the frenzied condition of my prick told me that I could not go on much longer with this prolongation. I had to grind my teeth and close my eyes for a moment, indeed, so roused was I by Julia Denton’s lasciviously posed nakedness lest I sacrifice all my vital juices before they could be deposited in the sweet receptacle which this delectable morsel of femininity was reserving for them.

    “In another moment or two, Miss Denton, I shall really let you feel this birch and up between your legs. When it stings you sweeping upwards from behind like this, you are certain to feel a very painful sensation in that place that I have been permitted by you to touch as well as in that other little hole which nature provided you for the excretion of certain unwelcome substances. I am going to count to three and if you have not yet then begged me to fuck you, you shall feel the rod until you do!”

    With this announcement I counted aloud, but I had only gotten as far as the beginning of the word “two” when Julia Denton shrieked, “Oh, no, don’t switch me between my legs, Mr. Jack, oh fuck me instead, oh please fuck me, don’t whip me, please!”

    The moment had at last come and it was high time!

    Chapter 11

    The swishy, thin birch rod lay on the floor within immediate reach if needed, but my hope was that Miss Julia Denton, having gone so far as to invite me in the most salacious terms imaginable to take that which her fiance had not yet enjoyed, was thoroughly sincere, for at this point, dear reader, I was too impatient to seek more prolongation of the charming little game I had been playing all this while.

    “Very well, Miss Denton,” I hoarsely replied, “I am going to grant your request to show you that I can be lenient upon occasion when a well-bred young lady tactfully selects a propitiatory tone in which to convey her meaning to me. But let me understand you clearly, so there can be no cause for recrimination later on. You have just asked me-nay, begged me! — to fuck you. Are you quite aware of what that term implies, my very charming and provocative Miss Denton?”

    She had turned her face to one side. It was flaming now, streaked with tears, and her eyes were closed. But her hands seemed to twist about in prayer, as if invoking whatever patron saint she felt it imperative upon herself to call on in this dire moment when she was on the brink of kissing her maidenhead goodbye forever. Moreover, her magnificent titties were rising and-falling with a turbulence that indicated that she was at the very end of her resistance. Her outthrust leg shuddered and jerked, the daintily shod feet turning and twisting with a message all its own of heartrending eloquence. Naked in her stockings, garters and shoes, she was absolutely bewitching.

    “I believe I asked you a question,” I pursued, my voice thickening with my impatient lust. “What? After such a valiant display of courageous acceptance of your fate, you now renounce your good deeds and remain mutinously silent? Molly, I fear you will have to hand me the birch again. I will have to give Miss Denton a few extra flicks well up between her straddled legs.”

    “Ohh, for God’s sake, sir, I cannot stand any more! Oh, will you have no humanity and take pity on a shamed and helpless girl and d-do what you must?” burst from the shuddering young houri.

    “Why, to be sure I will, yet I would not have you ignorant of my intentions, seeing that you have so often during the course of this afternoon inveighed against me for my scurrilous motives,” I ironically retorted. “Come, Miss Denton, before I accept your delightfully gracious invitation, which I assure you I had not expected at our very first meeting, I wish you to explain to me what I am to do to you, so there can be no possible doubt between us.”

    “Ohh, you horrid, cruel, heartless man,” she gasped in a low, chocking voice as she stared directly at me, her face crimson with her outraged modesty. “It was you who taught me to say such words, and now that I say them, you mock me and torture me all over again. Do your worst, you beast, but have done with it, for God’s sake! And I hope-indeed, sir, it is my only consolation in this terrible hour-that having done your worst, you will at least spare my poor friend Molly from your odious and indecent cravings!” Did I not say already that Miss Julia Denton was the most eloquent of female orators I had had the privilege of entertaining in my Snuggery? If not, then let me inscribe it here and now for all time, for she filled me with a boundless admiration in the way her high-flown and overly dramatized verbiage sought to conceal her truest, most vital feelings.

    “I am afraid that answer will not do, Miss Denton,” was my reply to her. “You will either specifically instruct me in my conduct towards you now, or you will feel the birch between your legs until you are inclined to do so.”

    And this at last decided the blushing, wriggling, naked brownette. Closing her eyes very tightly, taking a long, shuddering breath, she at last quavered, “You-you are to-to have me, sir. Oh, please do it and have it done with, for God’s dear sake!”

    “Well, that is a little better, but not yet the answer I was seeking. Do you see what I have between my legs for you, Miss Denton?” Here I pointed to my swollen, agonized weapon, the lips of which puckered uncontrollably to tell me that whereas my brain might be delighted by this cat-and-mouse interchange, it very definitely was not of the same opinion but sought instant action.

    She did not answer, but instead bowed her head, and a long shudder rippled through her body. The discolorations which the envelope cutter had left on those panting titties of hers was an exciting contrast to the pink-and-white smoothness of her naked skin. And she was decidedly sweating now under the duress of her long ordeal.

    “I will try to make you answer, then,” I said softly, and I reached out both thumbs and forefingers and pinched her nipples, twisting them this way and that.

    Miss Julia Denton lunged forward with a shriek, and babbled, “Eeoww, ohh please don’t sir! I will tell you, oh my God,please let go of my breasts, you have hurt me there so horribly, I’m going to faint! But only stop!

    “Speak, then, and be quick about it,” I demanded as I released the tension of my fingers.

    “Ohh ahh-oh my God-please-oh, it is horrible of you to make me say all this-oh no, don’t pinch them again-I will-only have mercy-please put-put your th-thing into my sp-spot-and-and h-have me-oohhh, I beg you to be quick and end my suffering, sir!” she at last exhaled.

    I would really be an unfeeling brute to pursue this line of questioning, I felt. I was sure that Miss Julia Denton had been chastely upreared and that the words she had used were daring enough, even at so critical a time as this when the alteration of her sweet girlhood stood at the crossroads of her destiny.

    “Molly, if you will notice that little windlass over by the wall, do you go to it now and turn the lever directly to the left,” I instructed.

    My half-naked voluptuous brunette accomplice eagerly nodded and ran over to the wall, her juicy round creamy titties jouncing in the most mouth-watering fashion. I confess that I felt at that moment like a pasha who has a veritable harem to wait upon him and cannot quite make up his mind upon impulse. But at the same time the joyous reminder leaped into my brain that I should have my beloved Alice as my consort soon enough, and with her sweet, obliging and voluptuously acquiescent Fanny as well as sister-in-law Marion and her red-haired maid Kay, to say nothing of Connie Blunt. Oh, that would be harem enough for the most virile and sanguine of men in the future, have no doubt about it!

    I thought, too, of the game that Alexander the Great used to play with his concubines, and which he wittily named “Scheherazade.” It was an enchantingly imaginative sport, but it would require great fortitude as well as stamina on the part of the male. The ingredients were simplicity itself. A huge wide bed, a conquering overlord (myself, naturally!) and from five to a dozen seductive maidens, all either naked or arrayed in varying degrees of deshabille, such as these two charming captives. Let one be in just hose and pumps, like Miss Julia Denton at the moment. Still another, like Miss Molly Bashe, in drawers and hose and pumps. Another might be naked, except for furry mules about her dainty feet and perhaps silver anklets, whilst a fourth should come to me clad only in her shift and the thinnest possible pair of knickers under them and the sheerest, most clinging hose obtainable. And so on and on, ad infinitum.

    And then I, the overlord, the pasha, the erotic emir, the sensual sultan should lie there with my head pillowed on my arms, master of all I surveyed, whilst these bringers of sweet delights, the harbingers of heavenly pastimes, should ply my naked body with caresses and ultimately mount me one by one and seek to draw forth my vital juices. And she who should be the winner in this tourney of Tantalus should receive a precious gift, while the others should all receive a smart birching to teach them to be more adept and clingingly amours the next time I, their lord and master, should summon them to my bower.

    And if that was not a delightful fantasy, another even more esoteric and complex leaped into my febrile brain. Each member of my harem should be talented for one particular adeptness or charm. One girl should be, for instance, my calf-mistress, because of all those in my harem she possessed the most satiny, deliciously contoured, ripplingly muscled calves of all. Another should be my thigh-mistress; and still another my hand-mistress, because her hand was softest of all, the most gifted and talented in caressing and fondling my manhood to do valorous deeds. Still another should be my tittie-mistress, endowed with such amorous proclivities that she could kneel before me and cup those lovely gourds of satiny flesh against my cock and, moving back and forth over me, create the illusion that the satiny valley between those loveglobes was a kind of a sheath, a new vaginal chasm for my probing. Or again, she might rub one breast against the shaft and the head and the balls to whet my appetites to new heights of fancy and prowess.

    My thigh-mistress should have gloriously versatile limbs the which to clench my prick with between their satiny columns or to rub against my cock to waken it to priapic performance; or still again, to wind around me to hold me to her so that my hands might fondle their backs and taste the warm, vibrant satin of their flexing columns.

    I should naturally appoint a mouth-mistress, she whose soft, rosy lips could bite and nibble, suck and breathe all over me, but best of all, could absorb the head of my rutting ramrod deep into the sweet-nectared cavern and there draw forth my venom if it was this tribute to Venus which impelled me at the time.

    There would even be a toe-mistress, who could tickle and fondle my prick and balls and with the most delicate of touches send waves of lust shivering through my entire body, no matter where her soft little toes glided. And of course a bottom-mistress who should be many things to me, from proffering the target for a birch or cane or my eager hand, to offering those satiny globes for the advent of my mighty scepter into the dainty little crevice between the divine rotundities.

    Such would be the life of a pasha, and such, I felt, might well be my own life once married to sweet Alice and in possession of so select and praiseworthy a harem as I might be able to count on.

    But now Molly Bashe had moved the lever as bidden, and the pulley which held up the trapeze bar which pinioned Miss Julia Denton’s outstretched leg moved backwards and drew that lovely leg upwards to create a dancer’s split. I saw thus before me the upturned base of one of the most delicious bottoms in all the world, a groove between it exaggeratedly yawned open and the sweetly pouting pink lips of her virgin cunt stretched and gaping and visible through the dark-brown clusters of pussy-curls which decorated Miss Julia’s Venus. Her leg was held up almost vertically now, and the stretch on her muscles must have been extremely excruciating, for she wailed and sobbed and cried and begged me to let her leg down and she would do whatever I wished if only I would grant her this mercy. But her time had run out and so had all my self-control, I fear.

    “Prepare yourself, Miss Denton,” I rasped as I advanced to her and put my hands on her smooth lower back, my prick prodding her lower abdomen and engaging in a sweet anticipatory duel with the curly silken fronds that already began to flourish just above her maiden quim. “I am now going to accept your offer and, as you so quaintly put it, put my thing into your spot. Try to hold very still at the outset, so that I do not miss the target. I wish your first experience-I believe it is that-to be entirely satisfactory so that after I have finished with you, Miss Denton, you will have no foundation on which to base the charge that I did not completely satisfy your humble request to fuck you.”

    Again she gasped aloud and twisted her face away from mine, her face twisted convulsively, her eyelids fluttering, her nostrils flaring and shrinking in a very upheaval of all her virginal emotions. I had no way of knowing what premarital games her faithless fiance had managed to play with her, but Molly Bashe had told me that she was a virgin, so my work was well defined.

    My hands appraisingly roamed her velvety smooth back and shoulders, before lowering to the jouncy globes of her behind. Her skin was moist with the agony-sweat which had pervaded her from the very outset of her ordeal. Little whimpering sobs escaped her now, and she desperately turned her face from side to side, her eyes still closed, as if expecting heaven to send some impossible reprieve at the crucial moment. But of this there was no sign as I at last arched myself and prodded my prick against the yawning cavern of Miss Julia Denton’s virgin cunt.

    Feeling the hot pressure of my meatus, the naked brunette uttered a stifled little moan and arched her bottom backwards, and I foresaw that there might be some anguishing moments in store for me before I could effect juncture, unless I utilized the presence of her friend to coerce as well as coax her into a more cooperative attitude. I therefore beckoned to Molly Bashe to come to me and put her ear towards my mouth, whereupon I whispered, “I want you to whip-fuck her lovely bottom, but not too hard, and remember not to cup up between the cheeks, for you might well sting me, and that would cost your own bottom severely.”

    Molly cast a look of overwhelmed gratitude at me, stooped to retrieve the birch, and took her station behind the naked, squirming brownette. I took hold of the sides of her hips at the top to steer her as I edged the head of my prick against the lips of her virgin vulva. Again she made that nervous recoiling movement to escape the ultimate disaster, but she was met with a horizontal slash of the rod just across the lower summits of her behind, and she wailed and lunged forward, impelled by the stinging pain of the birch.

    I stood my ground, my hands reached up to cup her titties, and I merged my mouth to hers to stifle all her outcries.

    I heard the birch swish through the air and land with a dry stinging Thuckk! and again with a wild, sobbing cry that appealed for mercy, Julia Denton arched herself forward to me… and with a growling ejaculation of relief that at last this long game was at an end, I pushed my sword home in her channel, bursting through the hymeneal seal that denied me the true dimensions of her cunt-sheath.

    A piercing scream attested to the pain which this violation caused the luscious naked young brownette, and then another scream as Julia Denton turned her head to stare back of her and observe that Molly Bashe had just laid the lash with a cruel swish across the naked curves of her buttocks.

    I lowered my left hand to squeeze the base of the buttock of that updrawn leg, my other hand remaining cupping her tittie as I began to fuck her slowly and inexorably.

    She groaned and sobbed and whimpered, turning her scarlet face from side to side, her eyes very tightly closed, and her body shook against the pulley ropes as I lunged and drew back, only to lunge again. I had underestimated my powers and control, so after the first few digs inside that new and wonderfully narrow and humid lovecanal, I was able to slacken and regulate my gait. My one hand on a breast, my other squeezing the base of that upturned buttock, crouching between those luscious legs which formed this exaggerated dancer’s slip, I thrust to and fro, my teeth set and my eyes fixed oh her scarlet, averted face. But Molly Bashe did not allow her friend to endure in anguished silence and stoicism the tribute I was paying that gripping, narrow love-scabbard. Through Miss Julia Denton’s cries and sobs, I could hear the repeated SWISH-swishhhh of the birch as it leaped over Miss Julia Denton’s naked bottom.

    Presently Miss Julia Denton’s hips began to jerk about as I neared my own climax and by that time, crushing her mouth to stifle her into silence once more, with a lewd and possessive kiss, I began to empty my bubbling seed.

    “That will do for the time, Molly,” I called, just after my brunette accomplice had laid a furious slash over the tops of Julia’s hips, drawing a piercing cry from the unfortunate naked young woman as she tried to twist and fling herself back off my embedded spear. I could endure no more. A thousand rockets were bursting inside my brain and with a wild shout of acclamation, I felt myself explode deep in the confines of Julia Denton’s pussy.

    When I drew out, the evidence of her virginity was manifested by the stains of blood upon my cock. I left Miss Julia Denton in her salacious pose, as I retired to the water closet to perform my ablutions, meanwhile instructing Molly to take a little hand towel I had dipped into warm water and to cleanse her friend’s pussy. She did not give me the satisfaction of letting me know whether she had been at all stirred, but judging from the tight clampings and “kissings” with which her pussy had greeted my digging prick, I was not too deeply concerned. I instructed Molly to give her smelling salts and then to give her a glass of port which she would find in a decanter on the little sideboard, and to pour a glass for herself. I added grimly, “for you will need it, Molly.”

    With a squeal of terror, the young brunette hurried to fetch the glasses, three on a tray, which she brought back as a very delightful maid. One would not find her costume permitted in a teahouse, dear reader, I can assure you. With only her thin drawers and hose and pumps, her creamy full titties heaving passionately, she would have distracted far too many male customers to earn her employer a penny of revenue. But in a cathouse-oh, that would be a different thing entirely!

    “Oh, s-sir, now that-now that you have had me and taken your vengeance, won’t you please let me down?” Julia Denton pleaded.

    I smiled at her and nodded. “You have earned your freedom for the time being, I quite agree, Miss Denton.” Now I had Molly Bashe stand on the footstool and untie the ingenious knots of the wrist ropes, and then I myself untied the ankles while Molly supported her from behind with her hands on both Julia Denton’s hips.

    “Well now, Miss Denton, now that you have been properly fucked, do you wish your own revenge on Molly?” I twitted her.

    “I do indeed, sir. I can see now that she was a criminal accomplice to you and helped you to overcome my defenses,” Julia Denton gasped, her face again flooding with deep crimson.

    “Excellent! You will forget your own momentary hurts by aiding me to tie this little vixen up to those little wrist ropes and then we will straddle her legs well apart so that she may be properly punished,” I directed.

    Molly Bashe heard this with consternation and penetrating cry of “Ohh! No! Please, Mr. Jack, didn’t I help you with her?” which of course let the cat completely out of the bag. The two of us seized Molly Bashe, and in a very short time she found herself with her wrists roped well above her head, her drawers taken down and then her stockinged legs drawn exaggeratedly apart, with cords around the ankles making fast to floor rings.

    “And now, Miss Denton, if you will take that birch rod which she used on your lovely bottom, and pay her back in kind, I think I can even the score.” Molly Bashe wailed and pleaded with Julia not to hit her with that dreadful rod, but with her eyes sparkling and her bubbies heaving furiously, Julia Denton delectated over the sport. Again and again the thin, supple rod bounded over the creamy nether hemispheres, drawing piercing wails and shouts and supplications for mercy. Just watching this tableau gave me a new erection, for which this time I should have a great deal more self-control.

    Standing up close to the writhing brunette, my hands clamped on her gourd-like titties, I prodded my stiff, weapon against her maiden gateway.

    No sooner had my prickhead encountered the soft, twitching petals of her slit, then I discovered that naughty minx was quite moist, indicating that she had had a secret climax while either helping me flog and fuck Miss Julia Denton, or simply while watching my endeavors with her friend. With a single thrust I pressed myself home to the balls, and Molly Bashe let out a sobbing cry. She was in a mood, no doubt about it, to be fulfilled to the very last ounce of my marrow. Then suddenly her face twisted in a rictus of pain just as the swishing birch came home over her naked buttocks, wielded in the avenging hands of beautiful and seductive Julia Denton.

    Seeing Molly plunge and twist this way and that, her head turned back over her shoulder to implore mercy from her dearest friend completed my rejuvenation. With a single thrust, I found myself packed into her up to the hairs, and then at short range I began to go in and out, though not retreating more than halfway, while my hands once again found the pert globes of her titties and squeezed and fondled them to my heart’s content.

    Julia Denton laid on the rod with a will, and Molly was in strident tears, uttering plaint after plaint to be spared any further beating. But I did not let it end until I had fucked her thoroughly and at last felt myself explode deep inside her womb.

    “There, Miss Bashe, I think we are quits to date,” I told her languidly as I drew myself out of her churning quim. Then I went back to Miss Denton and, cupping her titties and staring boldly into her blushing face, I murmured, “Your friend has told me something about you, Miss Denton, and I hope I have not done you any irreparable harm. But what I have learned about you suggests that you would do well to find a reputable young man to woo you regularly, for you are exceptionally passionate. How your fiance could have deserted you is more than the mind can credit, especially after seeing you so deliciously displayed in my Snuggery.”

    I made her go lie down on the couch and repose herself while I stood behind Molly Bashe and smacked her with the flat of my hand until she was squealing and begging for mercy and executing the most salacious gyrations imaginable. I told her in a loud voice that I would continue to punish her until she agreed to kneel down and pay tribute to my manhood. Before very much longer, Molly Bashe tearfully agreed, and then the high spot of the afternoon was enacted for me. For, kneeling between my legs, hands on the backs of my calves, her sweet trembling lips fixed against my stiffening prick, she sucked and licked me until with a cry I felt my last juices ebbing into her soft mouth.

    I then courteously retired, leaving the two young women to perform their ablutions and to dress before taking their leave of me. It was an afternoon I shall never forget.

    Chapter 12

    By the unexpected diversion which my patron goddess Venus had so graciously bestowed upon me on an afternoon which would otherwise no doubt have been spent in mournful meditation over my forthcoming renunciation, it began to dawn upon me that I had perhaps enrolled two delectable damsels into what I humorously called my “harem.” By the time Julia Denton and Molly Bashe left my quarters, they were not only reconciled amid many flushes and giggles, but the naughty and venturesome brunette hurried back to give me a farewell kiss and, whilst her satiny white arms clung round my neck, took advantage to whisper into my ear, “Ohhh, Jack, it was just heavenly! It was just what-we both needed, Julia and I. I think, sir, you have made her forget all about being jilted and given her a new interest in life. May we sometime soon come and visit you again?”

    Now since technically I was still a bachelor, dear reader, I impulsively and instinctively answered, “By all means, dear Molly, come whenever you can and I in turn shall do my best to come,” a remark which made her giggle more than ever and turn away from me with her lovely cheeks a bewitching scarlet. And indeed, as the two fair charmers opened the door to go out, I saw Molly whisper to her enchanting friend and then observed that the latter was blushing and sending back to me a glance which intimated that she was not quite so irate with me as might have been supposed after the way I had imprisoned, fettered, fondled and finally fucked her.

    Now I would not have you believe that entering upon the holy state of matrimony was a prospect which I contemplated without some serious meditation. Just as the leopard cannot change his spots, so could I not overnight and by the simple pronouncing of words and the exchanging of rings before witnesses convert myself to a circumspect and drearily puritanical sobersides. Yet on the other hand it is not within the code of a gentleman to make a flagrant show of being unfaithful to his consort without at least her knowing it and giving her full consent. This creed, to be sure, would be far in advance of our somewhat hypocritical times, for you must not forget that we were living in an era when women simply did not admit to experiencing sexual transports as men did, for to do so would be to proclaim themselves little better than whores. Indeed, in all my charming little coterie, had any one of these delectable young women boldly announced to all and sundry that they ecstatically welcomed the cohesion of man with maid, a righteous society would have branded them as strumpets and urged that they be publicly flogged at the, cart’s tail and made to wear a scarlet letter, much as in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s memorable novel which bears that same title.

    Yet at the same time it was a delicious prospect to present to our conformist society, smug and bourgeois as it undoubtedly was, the very model of domestic felicity in the marriage of sweet Alice and myself, while at the same time all of us would understand that within the privacy of our own four walls, we might serve ourselves as we thought best to portions of pleasure and passion without the slightest concern for the long-faced hypocrites who, if the truth be known, would die of envy and jealousy if they could but know what secret joys were ours. I myself have found that those who most cry out with pompous anger against the lubricity and shamelessness of romantic dalliance can generally be found to trace back their outlook to a pure and simple case of sour grapes. Perhaps when a gawky youth, when first our would-be reformer and keeper of public morality experienced an itching in his private parts and did a-wooing go like Froggie of the fable, the pert maiden to whom he pleaded his carnal cause merrily rejected him because he was so cumbersome and inept at bussing and fondling and exchanging witty conversation which would have brought her to the point of opening her warm thigh to receive his further arguments. And thus undoubtedly, in his bitter disappointment, he had come to envy his less dogmatic fellow man who had the visceral fortitude to take what he wished and the devil be damned in consequence, and out of envious spite set himself up as an arbiter of his more imaginative neighbor’s good fortune.

    So much for philosophizing. What I mean to say, dear reader, is that I had made up my mind to propose wedlock to sweet Alice upon her return the following week, yet at-the same time to warn her that if she did accept my honorable proposal, it did not at all imply that I should forsake all other women save only her. Nay, I proposed to explain to her that if I henceforth should ban all other lovely femininity from my attentions, it would be but a poor compliment to her; the true proof of my lasting affection for her that would be that after each escapade, I should return the more ardently to claim her marital favors and thus demonstrate that for all the temptations of the others, her charms were those which most made my prick ardent and constant in her service.

    Yet as I pondered all this happy and doubtless complicated future in store for me, I could not help remembering Marion’s father flirtatious and parting remark to me that if sweet Alice would not have me, perhaps she would instead.

    I must wed one or the other, since only on some desert island or in some primitive and backward land could I take both sisters to my bed without being jailed for outrageous bigamy. Of if I should change my mind and sue for Marion’s hand in marriage, then Alice would be outraged in jealousy and I could expect no alliance with her and her sweet maid Fanny in future. Yet conversely, if I wed Alice as I fully intended, Marion would remain my secret ally until such time as she deemed it proper to tell her younger sister that she no longer detested me and would no longer stand in the way of our happiness. So that point was settled.

    And so, dear reader, when the following Tuesday, blushing Fanny knocked discretely at my door, upon my admitting her, curtsied and stammered that her dear mistress was longing to see me at my earliest convenience. I kissed her on both cheeks and then exclaimed, “Dearest Fanny, I too, long to see your mistress, for I have news to impart to her that will bring us together forever.”

    “Oh, Mister Jack, do you mean that you are going to ask her to marry you?”

    “Fanny, you are as perceptive as you are lovely,” I-chuckled as my hand slipped down to her delicious bottom and squeezed it lingeringly while my lips moved from her satiny and blushing cheeks to her rosy mouth.

    “Ohh, sir, how happy that will make me, and Miss Alice most of all!” the dear girl effusively exclaimed.

    “But,” I continued with a teasing gravity suddenly come into my voice, “once I properly wed your mistress, my dear Fanny, are you not aware that a man must cleave only unto his wife and forsake all others? And do you think your mistress, once my legal consort, will permit you to share our pleasures as before? Give thought to it, Fanny, before you so enthusiastically acclaim this future event.”

    The sly little baggage only hugged me the tighter, pressing herself most lasciviously against me, while she whispered into my ear, “Oh, Mr. Jack, I’m sure that my mistress won’t become overnight such a shrew! In fact, but I don’t dare tell you-”

    “Tell me what, Fanny?”

    “Oh, sir, I shouldn’t dare!” she gasped, averting her lovely face, but blushing all the more deeply.

    “Perhaps,” I playfully threatened her, “a visit to the Snuggery will loosen your tongue, especially when I take a thin swishy birch to your pretty bottom!”

    “Oh, that would be cruel, sir, unless-after that-” the naughty minx intimated.

    “It seems to me, my girl, that you have difficulty in finishing your sentences today. Unless what, pray tell?” I urged. “Quickly, now, or I shall be most vexed with you, and then I am afraid I shall have to birch you after all, but without granting you that consolation which I think you are hinting at.”

    Fanny uttered a deep sigh and then finally and boldly stared at me, her eyes sparkling: “You mustn’t be afraid that Miss Alice will keep me out of the lovely little games we’ve had, sir,” she whispered. “On our way back to London, she warned me very strictly that if you and she should wed, I must be as obedient to you in serving all your needs as she expects me to be to her in serving hers.”

    This joyous news consoled me at once for the mere prospect of losing my bachelor’s freedom. And as Fanny continued to press and wriggle against me, my prick wished also to accord this charming girl her recompense for bringing me such thrilling news.

    “Why, then, Fanny dear,” I retorted, “do you go back to your mistress and tell her that perhaps we may take supper in my apartment this very evening. I shall order down the street from the caterer and provide something particularly tasty, as well as some vintage champagne to celebrate her return and the advent of our nuptials.”

    “I will tell her as soon as I leave, Mr. Jack,” was the naughty girl’s sly answer, and the roguish glance which she sent me from under those thick curling lashes of hers intimated that she would not very much mind if I delayed her in returning to her mistress.

    “So you missed me, too, did you, Fanny?” I muttered as my hands now moved upwards and round to squeeze her luscious titties, the while she locked her arms all the more tightly around me and clung to me as if I were her very salvation.

    “Oh, sir, you don’t know how much,” she whispered back, hiding her face in the crook of my shoulder. “In fact, Miss Alice had to give me a good smacking because I had my mind so much on the Snuggery that I was quite remiss in serving.”

    “Then after she smacked you, did she console you in the way you both learned here in this very Snuggery?” I teased her. She could only nod, her cheeks flaming furiously.

    “Well, since your mistress evidently expects you to return posthaste,” I continued, “we shall not have very long for our own little reunion, Fanny dear. And the news you bring me is so delightful that I do not feel at all inclined toward punishing you. So instead you shall have your reward. What would you like best?”

    “Oh, Mr. Jack, I’d like you to fuck me right now!” the delicious baggage gasped.

    I must confess that I am not so indiscriminate a rake as to be enthralled simply by the prospect of fucking for itself alone. I love dalliance and prolongation, but in this instance I thought I could make an exception, since obviously Fanny was quivering with impatience which had been roused by the absence of her mistress and herself from my presence all this while. Yet, since I have always said that a prick has no conscience, I found it willing, ready and more than able to service Fanny’s immediate needs without much regretting that I, its master, would not spend more time in preparing Fanny’s sweet terrain for the most languorous and satisfying of fuckings. I thereupon proposed that she try a pose which would do admirably well in view of the need for haste, and she swiftly readied herself for the venture.

    Seated on the couch, my swollen organ liberated from trousers, I had a kind of foretaste of my harem-like pleasures as Alice’s lovely maid hoisted up skirt and petticoats, let down her drawers, and seated herself upon me with her back toward me, impaling herself on my readied spear and actually using her own soft little hand to guide my weapon into her warm moist tight bower. This left my hands free to squeeze and fondle her panting titties, and I kissed the back of her neck and sucked each dainty earlobe and flicked it with my tonguetip while she wriggled and squirmed, arched and sank down till finally both of us were carried away by the sublime completion to our communal excitement.

    After she had tidied herself, she blushingly returned to sit on my lap and to cuddle me for a moment while she whispered, “It will be so wonderful when you are Miss Alice’s husband, because then, as the man, you’ll be the lord of the household and will give the orders, so that Miss Alice can’t always punish me just because she wants to.”

    “That may all be true, my darling,” I laughed gently, “But do not forget that I am more demanding in my ways then ever your mistress could be, and if you are not a good girl at all times, Fanny, you will find yourself across my lap with your drawers down and your lovely naked bottom smarting under a good thrashing. Be warned accordingly! And now, before Alice suspects that you have not spent all this time in communicating her message to me, you had best hasten back to her, and give her a tender and long kiss from me until we meet tonight.”

    After Fanny had gone, I sat there on the couch smoking a cigar, my eyes closed, conjuring up all sorts on exquisite tableaux which, I must confess, had more erotic variety and imagination than a sober, British husband usually conceives when he thinks of the marital rights which await him. I was still thinking, I fear, more like a pasha than like a husband-but somehow I had the feeling that my beloved Alice would not hold that against me too greatly!

    Chapter 13

    I bathed and shaved, took a leisurely nap so as to replenish my powers and give myself back that keen investiture which is the secret of a man’s ability to take the upper hand over scheming and charming devious females, then I hastened to the caterer’s to order a fitting repast for the reunion with my sweet Alice. While I performed this delightful errand which in itself, suggested so many untold joys, I recalled that Connie Blunt would be due back from Italy by the following Monday, and I remembered my determination to learn how she had lost her maidenhead, since she had been married for only a few short weeks to her husband before he had been carried off this mortal coil by a most untimely heart attack. I really felt sorry for the poor man who had not been able to enjoy to the fullest degree the tasty young charms of twenty-two-year-old golden-haired Connie, who was simply adorable and in some ways so ingenuous as to suggest a girl not yet out of teens. But judging by the way she had taken to Alice and to Fanny and formed a conspiratorial triumvirate against Lady Betty Bashe and her then snobbish and insolent daughter Molly, I had to assume that either she possessed an inherent degree of lascivious aptitudes or else I had simply been the fortunate man destined by Venus to find the touchstone to her most secret emotions.

    But Connie-and her cunny! — would have to wait until I had celebrated my hymeneal celebration with sweet Alice. I thought to myself that for our honeymoon we might well retrace Connie’s own footsteps to that romantic country where Lord Byron composed so many of his great epics, for warm Italy with its romantic history of the Borgias and of Dante’s Beatrice is properly a land for lovers, a kind of universal gathering-place where all may meet under the blue sky and the golden sun and where a kiss and the flashing adoration of one’s eyes are Esperanto enough to make one’s self understood. I had been told on good authority that the men of Italy go as far as to pinch the bottoms of pretty girls whom they admire and desire even though the latter are complete strangers to them. Oh most charming custom this, which at once dispenses with the hypocritical and time-consuming pretenses of a formal courtship and lets the maid know at once that a man desires not so much to hold converse with her as to fit together prick and cunt in the most Elysian of harmonies!

    My caterer promised that I should have what I had ordered promptly at seven, and he then prayed my indulgence, on the grounds that his two chief assistants had been called out of London by the unfortunate coincidence of illness in their families, to have the viands and the wine served by some substitutes whom he had been able to engage only for this week. I paid little attention to this protestation and I grandly waved my hand to indicate that I cared not how my repast for sweet Alice would be conveyed to me, only so long as it was, that it might nurture us both and heat our blood toward the commingling of our understandable yearnings for each other.

    Of course I had no doubt that mischievous Alice, she who had first yielded up to me her maiden seal and all the hidden treasures thereunto pertaining, had consoled herself for my not being present with charming Fanny. In my Snuggery, I had initiated both girls into the sweet art of soixante-neuf, as well as playing the simulated role of the two-backed beast, and both had found rare pleasure in such exquisite girlish games. However, judging from the rapacity with which dear Fanny had wrigglingly maneuvered herself astride my lap this afternoon in her haste to reacquaint herself with the dimensions and the sensations which a prick afforded her tender and squirming cunt, I had no doubt that the naughty minx would, if put to the question, blushingly avow her preference to being fucked as over girlfucking or sweet gamahuching.

    I was in full command of all my powers and I looked forward to a memorable evening. I thought to myself how fortunate I was that in this stuffy era, when all the drearily domesticated precepts of the Widow of Windsor had been virtually a part of every puling schoolboy’s training, Alice and I might come together in my quarters this night for the express purpose of celebrating our oncoming marriage by doing that which, surely our good Victorian code would have you believe, should never be done until both man and maid had obtained legal authorization in their wedlock.

    Yes, Alice and I were going to partake of those fruits of the Garden of Eden reserved only in this age for the conventionally united, but I did not see that I should be any the less ardent because each of us was still free at the moment we came together. You may then well believe that I was in a state of virtual euphoria considering that soon I should have Fanny as my own personal maid should my dear wife-to-be not be at my side to attend to certain niceties and necessities which I should find essential to my well-being. And there waiting for me when I wished and perhaps whenever I wished, as well, would be Alice’s older sister and the latter’s saucy red-haired maid Kay, to say nothing of Miss Molly Bashe and her friend Julia Denton, with Connie Blunt held in abeyance not because she was the least fair and desirable of this sweet seraglio, but simply because however passionate and competent a man may be, he has just so much spunk he can dispense at any given time.

    What happy prospects thus enthralled me with their future beckoning, I leave you, dear reader, to speculate over and to envy, Yet I do not inscribe all these chronicles of my amorous conduct solely to make you gnash your teeth and curse at me for being a lucky fool of love. I would rather have you consider this a sublimation until, by some happy means, you in your own life find it possible to emulate my good fortune with the fair sex and thus prove that you too know as well as I the way of a man with a maid.

    I waited, I need not tell you, with some impatience until at last the bell pealed to tell me that my Alice was at my door, and I opened it and held out my arms to my beautiful sweetheart who would so shortly be my beloved wife. To my great delight, she wore a costume which almost exactly duplicated that which she had worn on that fatal afternoon when for the first time in my Snuggery she had been compelled to yield her maidenhead to me and to allow me liberties which many a husband, thanks to our stuffy notions about matters, does not even dare enjoy with his own wife throughout an entire lifetime. The large picture hat, the dainty well-fitting dress which displayed her neatly plump and delicious figure to its fullest advantage, the same lacy parasol, and, I was certain, the same tantalizingly delaying undergarments which prolonged the sweet joy of finally denuding that ivory flesh I so loved and yearned for now.

    Now it is said by many a connoisseur that much time is lost in undressing a maid with so many articles of clothing as are prescribed by convention, and I have heard men long for a desert island where their inamorata should wear little more than Eve herself. But I hold that the pleasures of anticipation are sometimes equal to or many times may even surpass those of realization, and therefore the longer I found it took me to disrobe the fair charmer whom I intended to fuck and fondle to my prick’s content, the more enjoyable and exciting the act itself. The prelude to passion must not be gainsaid or circumvented from its full and spacious length, lest a man become too blase in his carnal pleasures. I know that this is one of the unhappy blights which happen to plague many a marriage, in that the husband, out of becoming habituated to the sight of his wife’s body, gradually grows bored when it has no more wonder to unveil for him. And I confess that to some extent I gave this nuance considerable attention myself whether, once wed to my dear Alice, I should not begin to take her for granted.

    But I told myself no, and I can explain this with a good heart and clear conscience. The harem of which I have already spoken would keep me from satiating myself with Alice’s sweet charms, so that I might return to her ever now and again with renewed enjoyment and high hopes of magnificent fulfillment, to which my other amours, my other “slave-girls,” would rouse my imaginative propensities for the appreciation and delectation of pussy.

    “Oh, Jack, Jack dearest, you don’t know how much I’ve missed you!” she cried as she flung her lovely arms around my neck. As I have already indicated, Alice was petite, some two inches shorter than her olive-skinned black-haired sister, Marion, but she was a most cuddlesome morsel with the voluptuous curves of buttocks and thighs and breasts, yet not to the point of being ungainly fat, which heaven forbid! I reminded myself at this moment, while my hands lovingly and lingeringly caressed Alice’s quivering buttocks through the many layers of clothes, that I should be very stern with her at the dinner table lest in the comfort of her marriage she add excess poundage to her delicious dimensions as they were now.

    “Yes, Fanny told me that you did,” I could not help twitting my beloved Alice.

    “Why, that naughty vixen! I shall have some words with her after I’ve loved you, Jack dear, and you may be certain that Fanny will rue it if she has betrayed any of our girlish secrets. For you know,” she went on gaily, “when girls are alone by themselves, they always discuss a man, and in this case it was you, and I’m afraid that I revealed how I felt about you to my maid, who ought to have better sense than to have told you so that I should be at your mercy.”

    “As I recall, Alice,” I chuckled, “the first real time you were at my mercy was here in this very apartment, and Fanny had not yet made her debut. Now, let me have your hat and your cape and then do sit down upon the sofa while we await our supper which should be here at any moment from the caterer.”

    Alice disposed herself upon the sofa and glanced round with sparkling eyes and gently heaving bosom, evidently happy to be back in familiar surroundings where she had so many memories. I saw no reason why we should not eat right here in the salon, because I knew that she was eager to be told and shown my lasting affection for her, and that action should naturally take place in the Snuggery.

    In about ten minutes, the bell rang again and I answered it to find a young man and a gray-haired man at my door with the viands I had ordered from the caterer. The young man seemed somewhat effeminate, being about five feet seven inches in height, with pale, rather aristocratic features, and light brown hair cut very short. His eyes were a soft apologetic brown, and his mouth quivered a good deal, suggesting an immaturity and nervousness perhaps understandable because he was, as the caterer had indicated, a substitute for the actual assistant.

    I had them clear the table on which I had some papers, and place it between our two chairs to use as kind of dining table. I had ordered a tasty roast grouse in a very thick wine and mushroom sauce, a special salad with a very rich dressing, as an aperitif a dozen blue-points. It has been said that the aphrodisiacal quality of seafood-or at least the legend that such nutrition increases one’s sexual powers-it is responsible for so many items of this kind appearing on our daily menus. But Alice had long ago evinced a passion for bluepoints, and so I had ordered them to humor her as a kind of token that while I might be stern and ruthless within the walls of the Snuggery, here in my own quarters as her domesticated husband-to-be, I was the very soul of thoughtfulness.

    After the meal had been served and the champagne with it, the two assistants withdrew, but the older man remarked, “Will, you had best stay outside in the hall till the gentleman and’ the lady have finished their supper so that you can pack and bring back the dishes. I’ll come for you in about an hour, say.”

    So the door closed behind them both, and I turned to Alice, rose from my seat, went over to hers and bent down to give her a long and passionate kiss on the mouth. She had drunk about three goblets of champagne, and while she was not yet tipsy, she was in vivacious spirits indeed, fairly bubbling over with energy and animation and rendering me altogether certain that I was making no error in wedding her.

    At last we finished the luxurious meal, having savored the dessert, a pair of rich custard tarts covered with juicy raspberries, and Alice rose from her chair as I gallantly held it back for her and went over to her purse which she had left on the little couch near the door to my apartment. Suddenly she looked back at me with eyes very wide and alarmed, and exclaimed, “Oh, Jack, I had three pound-notes and they’re gone now!”

    “That’s strange,” I remarked. “Did you come directly from your house to me?”

    “Of course I did, darling. I took a hansom cab and I told the driver to go very fast because I had been away from my beloved sweetheart.”

    Such a delightful explanation had earned the sweet vixen a tender kiss, and I approached to give it to her. She clung to me and arched her body to me, and I could tell from her parted and moist lips and her flushed cheeks and luminous eyes that she was in a mood to be thoroughly fucked. Since this was also in my plans, I enjoyed the leisurely delight of telling myself that we had all the evening and night before us and that there was absolutely no reason to make tawdry haste like a couple of ill-met lovers in some cheap hotel room who are driven by the demons of guilt in their infidelity to their respective mates.

    You have discovered that the prospect of making love to Alice, while it still made my prick swollen with desire, did not quite have the same spicy effect as when, that first memorable afternoon in the Snuggery, I had known that I was going to subject her to humiliation and a little pain before I taught her the sweet felicity of surrender. As yet, however, I had no pretext to whip or smack my darling, and I found myself wishing that dear Fanny had attended us so that we both might upbraid her for some imaginary fault in service and so each be aroused by applying the rod or the hand to that voluptuous young bottom of hers.

    “And you are certain that you had them when you started out?” I pursued.

    She nodded emphatically. “Why, yes. When I paid the driver, I saw them still in my purse, and I came directly up the stairs to you, Jack. Whatever in the world could have happened to those three pounds?”

    “You should make every effort, my dearest, to trace every movement that you made since leaving the house when, if I am to credence what you have told me, you had those notes and did not spend any money except the fee for the hansom cab.”

    “But I can’t think of anything, Jack! Oh, my, I was to give those notes to Fanny tonight as part of her wages. Whatever shall I do?”

    “Of course I will replace them for you.”

    “Oh no, Jack, I couldn’t allow that!”

    “But that is silly, darling,” I laughed, “because very shortly you’re going to my wife and I will be entirely responsible for the money that you carry in that pretty purse of yours. But look through it again, because perhaps you have misplaced it.”

    She took my advice, but after a search of five minutes, having several times emptied her purse on the table, she tearfully confessed that the money was absolutely missing and that she hadn’t the slightest idea where she could have lost it.

    Vaguely I remembered that the two caterer’s assistants had been near that little sofa in the process of serving us our supper. Now it was just possible that, while we were-staring at each other and so engrossed in our own conversation and thoughts, they might have seized the opportunity to pilfer the money from Alice’s purse since it opened noiselessly.

    Of course I could not openly accuse either of them until I had some proof. But, remembering that the young man had been so nervous and obviously ill at ease in the performance of duties for which I had assumed he was fitted by experience, I resolved to test his honesty and learn whether he had any knowledge of the missing notes.

    I had a kind of presentiment, and so I told Alice to remain where she was, and I went out into the hallway. There was the effeminate youth, leaning patiently against the wall, arms folded. He gave a kind of guilty start when he saw me emerge, and in a rather husky but weak voice asked, “Have you finished with the plates and the ice bucket, sir?”

    “Very nearly,” I said gruffly. “But would you do me a favor? I find myself in need of some change and wonder if perhaps you have any money on you.”

    “I’m not sure I have much change, sir,” was his answer.

    “Oh, well, be a good fellow, and let me see what you have anyway,” I said with an encouraging smile.

    He plunged a rather slim hand into the pocket of his trousers, and drew it partly out, glancing down at it; then in the same movement he seemed to have plunged his hand back down again as if to make a further search.

    “Take out what you do have and let’s see,” I encouraged him. My suspicions began to deepen.

    “I–I don’t have any change, really, sir. I’m sorry. Perhaps I could go down to the pharmacist’s shop and get you some, though,” he uneasily proffered.

    “See here, my boy,” I became severe, “there’s no reason in the world why you can’t simply turn out your pockets and let me see what you do have. I may be able to make up what I need by doing some adding here and subtracting there. Be quick now, the young lady is waiting and she needs hansom fare!”

    The youth turned a vivid red and gulped and then tried to speak, his brown eyes almost beseeching in their entreaty. This reaction alone confirmed my suspicion: this temporary aide to my caterer had neatly pocketed Alice’s three one-pound notes! I looked extremely grim as I approached and commanded, “Now that’s enough of this shillyshallying! Turn out your pockets, I tell you, or perhaps you would like me to go fetch a constable and have him turn them out for you!”

    “Oh, please-don’t do that!” the youth gasped, and I saw his eyes blink and fill with tears. Very reluctantly he plunged his hand down into his trousers pocket again, and slowly drew it out and opened it. There were three one-pound notes!

    “I think, my fine young gentleman,” I said between my teeth, “that you and I had best have a little chat. Give me the honor to enter my apartment, for we do not wish to cause a scene for the neighbors to eavesdrop upon. And don’t, I pray you, entertain the notion of trying to run for it. I was the second best half-miler in my form!”

    Then to my amazement, the youth plunged his hands to his face and began to weep. I felt a kind of disgusted contempt for such a cowardy-custard who would not have the courage to face up to boldly if he really needed those three pounds so badly. I took him by the collar, and I hissed, “Quick, march now, fellow, or I’ll really put you in charge! I did not think that Mr. Willoughby would employ a common little thief!”

    Opening the door to my apartment with my right hand, I shoved the youth in and closed and locked the door behind us. Alice had risen, her lovely eyes wide with curiosity and surprise, to see what all the hubbub was about.

    “This fellow, Alice, had the temerity to hook your banknotes out of your purse,” I told her.

    “Why, what a shocking thing to do! But why in the world would he do a thing like that?”

    “Ask him, not me, my dear,” I chuckled. Having released the fellow, I clenched my fist and showed it to him: “Now, I dislike violence, but you had best make up your mind to tell me the truth or else it will go very hard with you. I certainly shall have to tell your employer, and it will mean your immediate dismissal. It remains for you, however, to determine whether I-have you booked as a thief at the local constabulary or whether I shall let you off with a sound thrashing. How old are you anyway?”

    “Eight-eighteen, s-sir,” the boy quavered.

    “But why in the world did you do such a wretched thing? If you had needed money, you might have thought of asking me because of embarrassed circumstances,” I told him. “I have a generous nature when I am properly approached, as my fiancee there can confirm.” At this sly innuendo, lovely brown-haired Alice turned red as the proverbial beet, and playfully shook her little fist at me.

    “I–I didn’t mean to take it, but I couldn’t help it, sir,” the youth began to sob, disgusting me with his lack of manliness.

    “You had best tell me the whole story so that I can be the judge of that,” was my cold reply. “Begin by giving me your name.”

    “It-it-it’s W-W-Will.”

    “Will what?” I relentlessly pursued.

    “W-Will Ponsonby. And truly, I–I didn’t mean to, but I had to. My aunt-my aunt is terribly ill and needs medicine and she’s all alone,” the youth tearfully stammered.

    “Do you know what I think, Will Ponsonby or whatever else your name may really be?” I growled. “I think, sir, that you are a liar and a common thief, and that I am going to send my fiancee down to the corner to fetch a constable directly! Once you are at the Bow Street lockup, you may change your tune.”

    “Oh no! For heaven’s sake, don’t do that, it would kill my poor aunt, truly it would sir, sir! Oh please, you-you spoke of a b-beating a little while ago… I–I would rather take that a thousand times over than be turned over to the constable!”

    “He really means it,” Alice said wonderingly.

    “And I think I shall take him up on it at once,” I said impulsively. “Come along, Will Ponsonby. We shall get to the bottom of the truth of the matter!”

    With this seizing him by the scruff of the neck, I pushed the fellow towards the Snuggery, gesturing with my free hand for Alice to follow, which she readily did.

    Once inside, I ordered the youth to remove his black frock coat, which belonged to the establishment with which I had done business for some few years with never until this evening any difficulties. Reluctantly he did so, and stood before me in a high-collared shirt with long sleeves, and the black trousers of the establishment, which reached down to his ankles and over his polished black patent-leather shoes.

    “Lift up your hands now,” I ordered, while I signed to Alice to let the pulley ropes down from the ceiling. As the youth hesitantly obeyed, I stood beside him, and, catching one of the ropes, made it fast around his left wrist, and then in a trice had the other equally pinioned. I gestured to Alice, and the pulley ropes were hoisted, stretching him to tip toe. His face was scarlet, and great tears welled in his limpid and very widened brown eyes as he stared hopelessly at Alice and me.

    “Now then, young Will,” I addressed him, “you shall have a good dozen of the best with a birch, after which you may leave with your ill-gotten gains, but with the understanding that I intend to tell Mr. Willoughby, your employer, that I do not find you all trustworthy or reliable. It will mean your dismissal, but at least you will be spared the ignominy of a police arrest. Are you agreeable to that?”

    The youth closed his eyes and nodded, and a choking gasp emerged from his trembling lips.

    “If you please, Alice, there’s a dear girl,” I ordered, “unbutton Master Will’s shirt and roll it up as high as you can? And the undershirt as well. The bare back is the field of operation for a common thief.”

    “Oh please, sir,” the youth suddenly and tearfully gasped out, “don’t strip me, I beg of you, don’t do that! I–I will take the birching bravely, I promise! Even give me double, sir, but please don’t strip me!”

    “You are unduly modest now after your roguery,” I chided him. “And there is nothing of impropriety in being stripped to the waist for a flogging. Why, sir, if you had gone to Eton as I did, young sir, you would have been forced to bare a good deal more than what I propose to unveil. Proceed with it, Alice!”

    Alice went behind the slim youth and began to tug out the shirttails, at which the fellow twisted and wriggled and even tried to kick, crying out and sobbing, “Oh no! I beg of you, Miss, don’t shame me so! Have pity on me!” till I was exasperated. I started towards the culprit and myself unbuttoned his shirt and then yanked up; the tails in front while Alice was doing the same behind. To my intense surprise, I perceived not an undershirt but a-pink camisole, with fastening shoulder straps, and what was more-a quite discernible bosom! Our Will Ponsonby was not a young boy, but a young girl!

    “In heaven’s name, what is the meaning of this impersonation?” I demanded, angry both with myself and with the conniving wench.

    “Oh please, sir, I–I’ll take the b-birching and say no more, only leave me my clothes, for God’s sake!” the girl said in a trembling low husky voice that now took on a disturbingly appealing nuance-now that I knew her to be a she instead of a he, to be sure! “The-the fact is, my aunt is very poor and I have been trying to find work as a typist and without luck, and Davis, that’s the grocer’s boy, told me that Mr. Willoughby down the street was in dire need of some waiters because two of his men had gone off to visit sick relations. So-so I dressed myself this way and I got the job. And when I saw the lady’s purse open-”

    “Dear me,” Alice here intervened. “I really must have forgotten to close the clasp.”

    “That’s true, M-Miss,” the girl sobbed. “When I saw the notes and I filched them… but truly, I–I meant to bring them back as soon as I find steady work, that’s the truth, sir!”

    “Then what is your real name?” I sternly demanded.

    “Wilhelmina Ponsonby,” was the answer.

    I must confess that this discovery gave me quite a turn, from finding a Will transfigured into a Wilhelmina before my very eyes. My eyes fixed on the camisole and on the two pert, firm swellings which I know knew were titties and not the chest of a boy. Alice, behind the captive, facing me, winked and made a gesture. My pulses began to throb quickly. And why not indeed? Decidedly, this charming little thief who had added impersonation to her other follies was in need of a good lesson if she wished to earn her three pounds. I would not be brutal with her, but I was not yet convinced that she was telling the entire truth about the sick aunt.

    “Very well, Wilhelmina,” I finally decided. “You may keep the three pounds and I will say nothing to Mr. Willoughby. But in return, you must be birched, and properly. That is to say, your breeches must be taken down and you must receive the withes on the bare bottom!”

    “Oh no! Oh heavens! I would die of shame, sir-Oh for God’s sake, don’t do that to me!” the young woman wailed and tried to tug at her bound wrists.

    “I am afraid you have no choice, Wilhelmina. It is that or having my fiancee fetch the constable at once,” I said inflexibly. And then I attacked the buttons of the breeches, and began to drag them down, while the slim captive struggled and screamed and pleaded with me not to shame her thus.

    But a perverse kind of sensual excitement had taken hold of me-to which of course I could attribute my erotic state of knowing that my beloved Alice was at last alone with me and that we were so soon to be made one. In the waiter’s costume, this charming brown-haired girl looked so devilishly like a boy that was impatient to discover the essential difference. The hair was cut so closely, like that of a schoolboy who wishes to be thought anything but a scholar by his classmates, that there was a kind of disturbing mannishness to that charming face. But now that the breeches were down, I saw a pair of white cotton knickers, and I felt my cock throb and stiffen in response. Between ourselves, Alice and I knelt down and tugged the breeches off the struggling slim long legs of the wailing and sobbing captive. We unbuttoned the shirt and let it dangle loosely about her. She was now revealed in just the camisole and knickers, her slim long pale white legs almost entirely bare, since she wore half-socks of gray wool to about mid-calf and of course the black-patent leather shoes.

    I found myself unfastening the shoulder straps of the camisole and letting it drop down to her ankles, whereupon Alice whisked the garment off, and our Will who was Wilhelmina shrieked aloud as she found herself naked from throat to the waistband of her knickers. They were very snug and tight-fitting, and their legs were down to about mid-thigh, slightly shorter than those of a pair of drawers. I could see now for myself how easy it had been to pass herself off as a youth, because her titties were small oranges, saucily high-perched, widely spaced, with the most adorable little pink buds set in narrow coral circles, the circles of love, as I always called them. Her belly was flat. and sleek and with an adorably tiny deep navel to mark it. The knickers shaped out one of the jounciest pair of compact, tightly spaced oval cheeked bottoms I have ever seen, and Alice’s eyes were glowing with a sadistic joy as they fixed on that exciting posterior. Wilhelmina’s thighs were long and shapely and on the slender side, her calves highset and sinuous. With the shirt loosely flapping and open down the front, and in only her knickers and the half-socks and shoes, together with that closely cropped hair of hers, I found this wench devilishly enticing.

    “She really must have her knickers down, Jack dear, if you’re going to birch her,” Alice suggested.

    “That’s quite true. But first I think the humiliation of a good smack bottom will be an ideal preparation for the birch,” I decided.

    “Will you do it, or shall I, dear Jack?” Alice fairly panted in her excitement.

    “Since it was your three pounds she took-which I of course will replace to you, my darling,” I gallantly replied, “to you shall fall the honor of initiating Will’s bottom in the pangs of retribution. This will be for the theft. Then we shall take up the matter of the impersonation and the flagrant deceptions she had practiced on us, by which time I have no doubt we shall learn more of her character than we now know. You may proceed, Alice.”

    Chapter 14

    I must confess that this was a most entertaining diversion which I had not even conjectured when I had made my plans to entertain my beautiful Alice. If I were inclined to pun, I should say I was exchanging my days of liberty for days of libertinage. But assuredly, had I planned it, I could have devised no more fascinatingly piquant scene to mark the reunion of Alice and myself under happier circumstances. For as you will recall in the first volume of my saga, delicious Alice was entrapped and against her own will brought into this lair of lust of mine and there compelled by the most delicious dalliance to accord to me that which she had refused to do by her own sweet volition. Now here we were on the eve of our nuptials, and as a kind of aperitif the two of us had entrapped a young girl who had stolen three pound notes from my fiancee and, what was worst of all, disguised herself as a youth in service to my caterer. Heaven alone knows what other scurrilous schemes she had perpetrated on the unwary. Now, posing on tiptoes of her brand-new and very shiny black patent leather shoes, the white man’s shirt unbuttoned all down the front and spreading out to disclose to my enraptured eyes the saucy oranges of her panting young titties, the pale white sleek goblet of her belly shuddering and rippling with constant tremors, her wrists pinioned by the pulley ropes, she stood in tight white cotton knickers and the gray wool half-socks and shoes awaiting our good pleasure. And pleasure indeed it would be-and it would be good!

    Alice had already stationed herself behind the lovely and deceitful Wilhelmina, and posing her left hand on the girl’s neck, applied a tentative slap over each saucy bottom-summit.

    “Gracious, Jack,” she called to me, “her bottom’s very hard and elastic. It will wear out my poor little hand long before she has had her count.”

    “You are not to give her the entire chastisement of which she is long overdue with that soft little hand, my darling,” I responded. “Did I not tell you that this was but a prelude to the more serious part of her chastisement? You shall punish her as hard and as long as your hand can endure it, and you will tell yourself that when you have finished she will have had her share for the theft of your three pounds. You will leave the rest to me.”

    “I do think,” Alice petulantly observed, for she had, I now perceived, become as sensitive as any voluptuary in the nuances of our charming games, “that this bulky shirt is really in the way and the tails of it hide her bottom.”

    “In that case my dear, you have only to roll it up and perhaps drape it over her head. That will be an excellent idea, moreover, since it will serve as a blindfold and she will not know when to expect the smacks.”

    No sooner said than done. With a gay little cry of delight, my lovely Alice seized the tails of the offending shirt, rolled them up and dragged them over the victim’s head, whilst I, not to be outdone in chivalry, aided her in front so that in a moment the white, thickly starched shirt completely muffled and veiled the wistful, charming oval face which I had originally taken as that of a boy.

    “Oh sir, I beg of you if-if I must be punished, at least let her do it then,” came the imploring, sobbing supplication, muffled by the shirt. “It’s not decent for you to see me this way, sir, it truly isn’t! Oh, do be kind and let her punish me, and do you leave the room, I beg of you humbly!”

    Now, this speech was not that of a course young ruffian from the slums of Soho or Newcastle, not one whit of it! The husky, tremulous voice and excellent diction made me suspect that Wilhelmina Ponsonby had a history far more intriguing than the concocted tale she had tried to pass off to excuse her theft of Alice’s money. She had a sick aunt, she had been trying to find work, so she had got this post at Willoughby’s and fallen victim to the temptation of seeing my fiancee’s open purse. No, it was much too pat. But I have found that the birch, when judiciously applied to the tenderest parts of a young lady’s anatomy, is a remarkable panacea for prevarication. And after Alice had inflicted the smack-bottom to which I had sentenced charming Wilhelmina, I meant to preside as master of the rod and draw from my felonious impersonatress a less mendacious story.

    “Now I think you may safely go to it, Alice, and there is no need to hurry, since we have all evening before us,” I observed. I seated myself on a footstool at some distance from the gasping, squirming captive, not wishing to fall prey to one of her sporadic kicks, for those black patent-leather shoes seemed very stiff and solid, and my shins are exceptionally tender, I lit a cigar and reveled in the good life that lay before us, for if this was an augury of the felicitous hours that Alice and I should pass once we had exchanged our vows before the minister, then life would be indeed serene, and all my fears of losing my freedom would prove unfounded.

    Alice rolled up the sleeves of her pretty frock, displaying those lovely plump, white arms whose tender, moist skin I had so often kissed and stroked in my moments of tender delight with her, but her pretty face was now implacably cruel as with narrowed eyes and compressed lips she posed herself as executioner behind the culprit, and once again placing her left palm at about the neck of the victim, she launched a ferocious openhanded smack on the right buttock and then, moving quickly to the left, equalized matters with as hard and crisp a spank on the other bottomcheek.

    “Ohh dear!” Wilhelmina anxiously gasped out, squirming and twisting and yanking on her bonds.

    “Not so hard and fast at first, or you will numb not only the surface you are attacking, but your charming hand as well, my dear,” I advised.

    “You are right, of course, Jack. It’s just that I can’t tolerate the airs this wicked little thieving minx gives herself. So you would steal my money out of my own purse and in my fiance’s own quarters, would you? There, take that-and that as well! I’m going to make you howl, my girl! Gracious, what a hard, solid bottom you have! It’s like a rock! I only wish I could give you the birch as you so richly deserve. There! Did you feel that one? And that one, too! There, and there!”

    It was plain that Alice was working herself up into an erotic fury of sadistic joy, judging from the lovely flush that pervaded her face, the way her eyes sparkled now and her nostrils twitched and shrank. Her magnificent titties rose and fell with an emotion they had not till this moment had, as she drew back her right hand and brought it forward smartly and noisily across the thin-knicker-sheathed contours of Wilhelmina’s lovely, resilient bottom. The crisp sound of the spanks was music to my ears, as you may well imagine, and already my prick was stimulated by this symphonic music to which it was indoctrinated by none other than fair Alice herself, and in this very room.

    I must confess that Wilhelmina bore her smacking well enough, and it was probably shame at knowing herself to be half-naked before a gentleman’s eyes, whilst being chastised by a young lady’s hand, that drew from her the flurried little sobs and groans and cries with which she announced almost each of those stinging smacks. But the force of Alice’s blows made her prance, if I may accurately employ that term, for she seemed to execute a kind of hopping skip from foot to foot, lunging herself forward and bending her back deliciously, only to be drawn back within the stern limits of the pulley’s range, ever pressing her back towards the avenging hand of lovely Alice. Shifting constantly from foot to foot, squirming her hips from side to side, she began at last to show that this seemingly innocuous and juvenile correction was having its effect, for at length she began to groan and then to sob: “Oww! Oh my! Oh dear! Oh, do send him away, he’s looking at me, I know he is!” and then, “Ouch! Oh, it hurts! Oh, please that’s enough, I told you I’d return the money-Ahhrr! Oh, do please stop-make an end of it!”

    At last Alice did make an end of it, because she was out of breath and she was ruefully blowing on her hand and examining it, and I could see that it was red and inflamed. But I was anxious to know whether the flesh she had been smacking so enthusiastically was of the same coloration by now. Moreover, it was time for the birch to come into play.

    So we let our victim sob and gasp and turn and twist at the end of her wrist-ropes, whilst I returned to the bucket of brine in which I always kept a thick and a long, slim birch soaking, just in the event that, like that never-to-be-forgotten afternoon last week, I was visited by Molly Bashe and her provocative and arrogant companion, Miss Julia Denton.

    “Now it is your turn to sit and watch and compose yourself, dear Alice,” I told my fiancee. “Wilhelmina, are you ready for your birching? I warn you that it will be severe, because you have not been honest with us in the least.”

    “Oh Lord,” our lovely prisoner tearfully gasped from beneath and muffling and blindfolding confines of the white starched man’s shirt drawn over her head, “I can only implore you, sir, in the name of decency, to retire and let your lady chastise me if you are so determined that I must be further punished.”

    “I am so determined, but I shall not retire. You may address your plea to me directly, then, for I am the one who shall wield the chastising rod over your naked posterior, my girl,” was my reply.

    “Oh, haven’t I been punished enough already, to be stripped and shamed like this in front of a man, and then smacked like a child-like a veritable child-by one of my own sex? Surely it is worth three pounds of vengeance to you by now, sir!” Our lovely captive pleaded her case eloquently well, I must admit. But my prick was now so hard and exorbitantly in need of surfeit that I could not find it in me to grant her leniency.

    That was why I replied in the gravest tone I could summon. “Why, Wilhelmina, if a thief could get off scot-free with only a bottom-smacking for everything he or she took, we should all be impoverished by now! No, my girl, make up your mind to it, your knickers are coming down and it is on your naked bottom that you shall have the birch. I propose to give you fifteen strokes, five for each of the pound notes you filched from my fiancee’s purse.”

    “Oh Jack, may I take her knickers down, may I?” Alice childishly begged, rising from the footstool and going to me and putting her arms about me and pressing that delectable body against mine.

    “Why, if you wish, I think it is only proper, since Wilhelmina has already exclaimed against the impropriety of a man’s lowering that modest garment which hides her naughty bottom,” I retorted.

    “Oh, thank you, Jack! And then I can see how well I have smacked her naked seat!” Alice exclaimed joyously. She approached the frantic captive and began to unbutton the tops of the knickers, then moved round to Wilhelmina’s right side and, gripping the waistband between thumbs and forefingers, dragged the tight-fitting garment down. A despairing shriek and a maddened lunge from side to side attested to Wilhelmina’s anguish, and by the gyrations of her lithe, slim hips, the young woman tried to prevent the descent of her final veil.

    In vain. Dragged down to her knees, they rested as a kind of a festooning fetter, and I gestured to Alice to leave them where they were, for they would thus serve as a restraining bond should she try to kick about too much when the first kisses of the thin swishy birch should bite against her vividly inflamed and quivering naked bottom-cheeks.

    “Oh, look, Jack, what a fine, saucy backside the little vixen has!” Alice exclaimed in glee as she pointed at those flaming ovals. She had really painted them a fiery shade, and the birch would impart its kisses all the more hotly thanks to my fiancee’s energetic and enthusiastic preparation.

    But what fascinated me most of all, from my vantage point facing the squirming and now virtually naked captive, was that her pussy was shrouded by a thick-growth of dark brown curls, unusual in a girl so young, completely hiding the delicate lips of her slit. The mound of love was suave and not at all prominent, and as she realized what she must be showing to us both, Wilhelmina Ponsonby clenched her long, slender thighs together as tightly as she could. The nervous flexions of her agile muscles called attention not only to their agility but also the pale white skin of her luscious body, that of a young nymph.

    Alice saw that my prick was in gigantic erection now, and the dear girl sought to solace me, since neither of us had at the moment any plans for involving our lovely thief in the diversions of Cythera; we thought only of chastising her so that the lesson would be long remembered, and of finally obtaining from her lips the truth about herself. Unbuttoning my trousers, Alice boldly introduced her hand into my underdrawers and drew out my cock. With thumb and forefinger she squeezed the meatus at the very groove which separated it from the gristly and dark-veined shaft, and I ground my teeth to hold back all my pent-up juices. How sweetly implanted in my Alice were all the sweet brazen precepts of the courtesan! On our wedding night, I should not be bedding a squeamish virgin who should turn from me and whimper and implore mercy, but rather a warm-blooded, passionate and voluptuous young houri who would keep pace with me and challenge all my ingenuity and strength, to the satisfaction of her own amorous needs.

    She whispered very faintly to me, so that only I could hear: “Shall I frig you, my darling, or would you rather have me suck you off?”

    Oh, sweet Alice, soon-to-be wife of my bosom, what wife in our stultified era would have dared, or even known how, to ask such a delicious question of her mate?

    “Why, if it pleases you, my darling, a little of both,” I whispered back.

    All this while, needless to say, the naked young girl was left in the most atrocious suspense. She kept moving her hips from side to side as if to cast off the annoying heat which Alice’s little palm had engendered in her pale white bottom and left it the color of a ripe tomato. She must have wondered what the little hissings of breath and gaspings and slushings portended, and I will admit that her presence there, though blindfolded, was a tremendous stimulus to my now frenzied lust.

    Alice now began to “milk” my cock by drawing on the meatus from the groove on to the lips and then back again, tautening the pink, sensitive head until I thought I should go mad with the Tantalus ecstasy that she launched within my ramrod. But she was already too well versed in understanding my whims and impulses, so that she at last desisted and knelt down, fondling my balls in one soft palm while with her right thumb and forefinger she daintily took hold of the middle of my prick and guided it towards her soft red lips, which opened in gracious welcome.

    I felt them close over my meatus and then a sucking sensation, warm and moist and indescribably thrilling, took possession of me, concentrating all my vitality in my loins, driving away all my conscience and recrimination and making me know only that I gladdened and exulted in my manhood if it could be thus venerated by my brown-haired, voluptuous young Venus!

    I dug my nails into my palms and stiffened myself, closing my eyes and resolving not to emit one sound that would tell our prisoner what I was experiencing. But in the midst of my rapture, I suddenly heard Wilhelmina’s husky, sob-chocked voice implore, “Oh, dear Lord, won’t you give me the rest of my punishment and end it so that I may leave this dreadful place? I am dying of anguish here-oh, what can you be doing to torture me so? Birch me and be done with it, I beg of you!”

    In a hoarse voice I responded: “I have never heard a naughty girl so earnestly beseech the rod, but never fear that you will have it, and in such abundance that you will repent your eagerness for it. Ohhh, do go on!” This last to Alice, in a low and trembling voice, for I was at the end of my self-control. The soft sweet slushings and the suckings and the nibblings of her dainty lips, the flickings of her ardent little pink tongue over my ardent, puckering cocktip and along the velvety pink and throbbing crannies of the meatus, had driven me to an ungovernable frenzy. I suddenly seized Alice by the hair with my left hand, and my entire body jerked in a violent explosion as I shot my seminal contents into her soft throat. She gasped and choked, but valiantly swallowed, hastily sucking from me till the stream had ebbed its last viscous gobbet. And then I exhaled a sigh such as must have done the followers of Mohammed in the gardens of Allah’s Paradise when the promised houris had accomplished their sweet blandishments and given those devout worshippers the divine reward which the Prophet had promised the faithful. At last with a sigh I composed myself, and Alice hastily took out a handkerchief from my trousers and mopped my cock, and then daintily stuffed it back into my fly and buttoned it up. Now that I had expelled my venom, I had a rather languid attitude and I felt not quite so ferociously punitive towards the sobbing and squirming young captive stretched by the wrist ropes before me. Nonetheless, she should have her birching, but I would adhere to the fifteen cuts as promised.

    I gestured to Alice to bring me the rod while I took my place behind the young woman, but the remarkable pale whiteness of her thighs in contrast with the darkening red ovals of her well-spanked bottom overcame my good resolve, and my fingers wandered to those resilient contours and squeezed and palpated them lingeringly, while Wilhelmina uttered a series of shrieks and groans and incoherent supplications: “Ah-oh please no! Oh my God, birch me and be done with it, I beg of you! Who of you is touching me so? Oh, the shame of it, I want to die-oh, whip me, whip me then and let me go! Ahh-Ohh, it’s vile-oh please, I cannot bear such humiliation-oh at least, in the name of heaven, send him away-ohh-oh God!

    Alice returned, holding out to me the dripping rod, which I flourished in the air until all the drops had been shaken out. The ominous swishing sounds which I made as I cut it through the air made Wilhelmina gasp the more.

    Stepping back and laying the rod across her hindquarters, and composing my voice as to cool a level as I could under the circumstances, I announced: “Attention now, Wilhelmina, to the first of your fifteen cuts for lying and impersonation and sinfulness!”

    “Oh, let her do it instead, sir-oh please-AIIII!”

    I cut short her prayers by drawing back my right arm and lunging the rod across the tops of both naked hips. With a dreadful scream, Wilhelmina lunged forward, her back bending deliciously, her buttocks wriggling and tightening, until the pulley ropes returned her to the range of the swishy birch.

    I dealt out her cuts mercilessly, like a magistrate, slowly, unmoved by her sobs and tears and cries until the sixth, which flailed the base of her saucy bottom.

    At this she completely broke down and cried out: “Oh wait, oh no more, you are killing me! If you will only stop, I will tell you the truth! Only do have mercy on me, I truly can’t bear it any more! If only you knew how much I’ve been whipped where I came from-you wouldn’t do this to me, you wouldn’t! Oh, if you knew, you’d have pity-have pity now!”

    Again intrigued by this novel turn of events, I lowered the birch and said sternly: “It was in the interests of the truth that I sentenced you to this birching, Wilhelmina. I will give you two minutes to tell me your story, and if I am not then convinced of its veracity, we will start over again from the beginning and you shall have a good and full fifteen hard and severely laid on. Begin!”

    She uttered a sobbing cry and then, apparently trying to turn her face back to me over her shoulder, and despite the fact that the shirt over her face still blindfolded her, sobbed out: “Oh, sir, I did lie, it’s true, but I had a good reason. I–I’m an orphan, and I ran away from a private orphanage where the superintendent tried to make me-tried to make me be a wicked girl! He had me birched and caned so often by the matrons, and I couldn’t stand it any more, and the last night he had the matron tell me that if I didn’t come to his rooms after everyone had gone to sleep, I should be whipped on a block in front of the entire orphanage, and so I ran away. And I met this boy, this Davey, and that’s the truth, sir. And he told me this Mr. Willoughby needed waiters, and that why I got the job. It was Davey showed me where to get a waiter’s clothes, and I had just a few shillings with me, and the man was kind enough to let me rent them. Oh sir, will you not spare me now?”

    I lowered the birch and looked at Alice. “What do you think of that, my dear?”

    “I think she’s telling the truth.”

    “I think you are right, my darling. I shall make inquiries, Wilhelmina, and you are going to tell me who the superintendent is and where the orphanage is as well. Have no fears-if you are telling the truth, I certainly shan’t return you to them. But I must find some means of removing from you the further temptations of theft, for your next victim may not be quite so humane as I am,” I told the sobbing young woman. The birch had certainly marked her rather well, for her saucy oval buttocks were scratched with angry welts superimposed over the flaming red which Alice’s little hand had left. She kept moving from foot to foot and I knew that she was in atrocious pain, so I finally showed leniency and allowed her to be untied and taken to the W.C., with Alice in charge.

    I poured out a glass of sherry, and when the still sobbing young woman hobbled out, her arm around Alice’s shoulder but her breeches restored as if she were once more the young waiter from Willoughby’s, I could not help smiling at her rueful appearance. I let her drink the sherry and gave her a few biscuits, and then Alice and I questioned her more closely. We obtained the names of the superintendent and the orphanage over which he was in charge, and Alice told me that on the very next morning she would make investigations and let me know if what Wilhelmina had told was true.

    In the meantime, I had a guest room where the young woman could sleep, and I told her that she could take a bath and go to bed and that we would talk about what was to be done with her on the morrow.

    Once she had been safely ensconced in that room, wearing a pair of my pajamas, I returned with Alice to the Snuggery and locked the door. Then, before I could say a word, my brown-haired darling, my wife-to-be, swiftly began to undress, and when she was all naked began to undress me in turn. We fell upon the couch with glad cries, and in a trice I felt my prick drive to the depths inside Alice’s moist and churning cunt. She fairly consumed me with her passion, winding her ivory legs around my buttocks, her fingernails digging into my armpits, her teeth clashing against mine in the fury of our union. And when it was done and we lay spent with spending, and in our delightful languor on the couch, my sweet fiancee heard from my lips the earnest proposal of marriage that would make her not so much an honest woman but my wife, my accomplice, my mistress, my all-and my sweet sharer of joys to come… of which perhaps Wilhelmina might herself provide a future… for Alice confessed to me with many a blush and wink that she was enamored of the slim young beauty who looked so remarkably like a boy, and that she had an overwhelming desire to cuddle with her and to fondle her and see if she was a virgin.

    In the afternoon Alice and I would both go to post our banns and obtain the license, and then we would determine, before the glorious date when we two should be one, what to do with Wilhelmina Ponsonby.

    Chapter 15

    Alice and I had decided that we would not taste all our marital pleasures in advance by sleeping together this night in my apartment, but rather reserve that for what the French so aptly term la lune de miel. So I slept on the couch in the Snuggery, while my fair bride-to-be took her repose in my own bed, and our pretty and provocative boygirl found her repose in the guest room.

    Alice showed the next morning that she was quite adept at cooking, which augured well for our happy domesticity. As soon as breakfast was over, she took her leave of us and rode in a hansom cab to make inquiries of the orphanage from which, according to her story, our guest for the night had run away.

    Shortly after lunch time, she returned to inform me that the pseudo-waiter at Willoughby’s had not at all prevaricated, but that such an orphanage did exist and that the superintendent was named such and such. Alice had even gone so far as to inquire of the neighbors in that vicinity, and what she heard did not set well with the benevolent aspect which such an institution is supposed to have. There were reports of cries and tears from many of the younger girls who in the recreation yard were seen being slapped by the officious matrons, and there were even more lurid tales that some of the punishments were extremely severe and that the superintendent himself appeared to have, as one old lady told my fiancee, “an eye for a pretty wench even though she is in his charge.”

    Accordingly I penned an anonymous letter to the authorities, urging them to investigate this nefarious and inhuman institution so that others might be protected from the fate which had impelled our slim young orphan to run away.

    But now there remained the problem of what to do with this charming waif, for at eighteen she would surely present a problem to any parent, and I myself was not inclined to give her employment, not with a wife about to be wed who had her own delicious maid Fanny ready to serve the new household.

    Wilhelmina seemed very grateful to us, and apparently, though she still blushed to recall it, had forgotten the chastisement we both had given her the night before. We therefore put her on her honor not to run away, and left her in my apartment while Alice and I went to the license bureau, and thence to the minister of my parish so that we might set the date for our wedding.

    It would be two weeks hence and on a Saturday, an ideal time indeed for the first nuptials, since there would be no need to waken early on a Sunday morning!

    We celebrated the formal announcement of our wedding date by a champagne supper at Simpson’s, to which I had proposed we invite Alice’s sister Marion. But to my surprise, my lovely brown-haired wife-to-be emphatically refused to let Marion share in this joyous news as yet. And when I enquired why, she peevishly remarked, “Oh, Jack, you know how she has always stood in our way from the very outset. Why, I talked to her only the other day, and she was very surly and almost rude to me. I hinted then that you and I would soon have very important news to give her, which as you know was as much as saying that we were going to be married. And all she could say to me was ‘Well, Alice, I hope for your own sake that you’ll be able to hold him once he puts the ring on your finger!’ Now what in the world do you think she meant by that, darling?”

    As a gentleman I was honor-bound not to tell her what had occurred not only between us but between myself and her red-haired maid Kay. But I had no doubt that if Marion felt aggrieved that my choice had been for her younger sister instead of for herself and to end her divorced loneliness, she was hardly of a mood to attend any celebration which would sprinkle salt on the wound of the slight. And I was certain, moreover, that Marion would find a way to her own advantage, when the proper time came, to let Alice know that the latter’s victory was not so complete as she might have believed.

    Over the magnificent roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, I proposed to Alice that we go to Italy for our honeymoon, to Naples and Florence and Rome, and then perhaps spend about a week in some idyllic little village in the countryside where we might indulge ourselves like two children of nature with unconcern for the hidebound rules which would govern us in a so-called civilized metropolis. When Alice archly inquired as to what I meant by that, I smilingly retorted that I for one loved bathing in some refreshing stream without the encumbrance of clothing, and she turned a divine crimson because the waiter at that moment was approaching with side dishes of vegetables. After he had gone, she teased me unmercifully, saying that I was marrying her only for her body and not for her mind, to which I laughingly retorted, “But you know very well that isn’t so, my dear Alice, and I will tell you exactly why I have decided to forsake my freedom on your account. If it was simply because of your very appetizing and delicious flesh, I should be inclined to partake of it when the hunger seized me. But no, my sweet confidante, it is because of the wit and imagination and naughtiness you showed with Lady Betty Bashe and with dear Connie Blunt and even your own sweet maid Fanny, which encouraged me to believe that you would be a worthy partner in devising ingenious schemes which would add to our mutual gratification.”

    Greatly mollified by this, Alice then took up the subject of our more or less “adopted” waif Wilhelmina. “I should hate to think, dearest Jack,” she said earnestly, “that the poor dear would have to go back to a public institution because she cannot find employment. Do you suppose we could actually place her in some happy situation?”

    “I have been devoting a little time to that topic, Alice,” I replied. “You know that you have your own maid just as your sister Marion has hers-”

    At this and again to my very delighted surprise, Alice somewhat cheekily interposed, “Oh, yes, that spitfire Kay, that red-haired baggage who fancies herself as good as my sister! Oh, Jack, if she were my maid, I should bring her over to you at least once a week to be tied up in the Snuggery, her drawers taken down and her big bottom given a sound flogging to improve her manners and teach her her proper and humble place!”

    I feigned great surprise at this. “But how is it that you have had occasion to be irritated by this girl’s behavior, seeing that she lives with Marion, who is at quite a distance from you?”

    Alice tossed her lovely head and made a sulky little face, so charmingly that I almost forgot the rules of behavior in public to lean over toward her at my side and kiss her passionately. But I resisted, because it would afford an occasion for even more passionate demonstrations on my part once she and I were alone on our pilgrimage to sunny Italy.

    “Come now,” I said jestingly. “Perhaps it is possible that we may bring her to the Snuggery if you are of a mind to do so.”

    “Oh, Jack, I’d like nothing more! You see, I was staying with Marion for a time after I broke off with you and we had that dreadful misunderstanding-and I remember that once I asked her if she would not go to the milliner’s ship for me and bring back a special color of ribbon that I wished to sew onto my bonnet. And she was most insolent and rude, saying that she was Miss Marion’s maid and that she did not understand why I did not send mine on this errand. I did speak to Marion about it, but she passed it off so lightly that I was almost vexed with her. But I haven’t forgotten Kay’s arrogance, I assure you!”

    This, I began to think, might be the ruse by which Alice should finally learn-that is, if Marion so desired it-how I and her sister had had our own tender reconciliation and how also Kay had been more than well punished already for her arrogance. Yes, the motive was even stronger now that I should be Alice’s husband, for I, in that role as the protector of the family and the household, had actually already avenged my darling Alice that afternoon in the Snuggery when Marion had brought her spirited maid along to be chastised. It would be a most delicious scene when both sisters finally comprehended that each of them was enamored of me, each in her own special way, and that Kay had finally been converted to a better appreciation of her status as well as to a proper appreciation for my own priapic talents!

    “Yes, I should say that you have just cause to be incensed with the girl,” I finally pronounced. “When we come back from our honeymoon, my darling, we shall talk about it at more length. But now as to Wilhelmina, I have been thinking about her a good deal-”

    “I know,” Alice rudely interrupted and gave me a dig in the ribs with her elbow, “ever since you took her breeches down and saw that she had a slit instead of a rod.”

    “And she had the rod too, if you’ll remember,” I laughingly answered back. “But that was not what I meant. You know that Connie Blunt has no maid of her own, as do you and Marion.”

    “Oh, Jack, what a perfectly capital idea!” my darling Alice cried. “I think she would be perfect for the role! Let’s get in touch with Connie, for I know she is back now from Italy. Oh, now, you naughty scoundrel you, I begin to understand why you want to go on your honeymoon there with me. You will be thinking of Connie all the while.”

    “Of course,” I laughed, “But, dear heart, those thoughts will be crystallized with your delicious presence, and they will serve only to inspire me to be a more tender lover to you as we begin our married life together.”

    “Very well. But I am going to make sure that you are a good boy until we marry. You shall not have me, sir, until our wedding night, I have decided upon it. Nor shall you have Fanny nor Connie either. Oh, what a delicious idea, Jack! You will be so terribly randy by the time our wedding night is upon us, that you will have no thought of any other woman save myself.”

    I realized that she was perfectly within her rights as my fiancee and duly intended, so I acceded to her playful little game. But I warned her as we prepared to leave the restaurant that she would pay dearly when she was properly mine to have and to hold, to chastise and to cuddle, and that she had best look to herself lest she receive more chastisement than cuddling. And on this teasing note we parted, she back to her abode and I to mine with most delicious anticipations for the happiest of futures.

    Chapter 16

    Perhaps to prove to myself that I was not completely the slave of my passions but rather their master, I decided to go along with Alice’s naive but certainly understandable rule of continence before marriage, and so until the day when we stood up before the minister in the church of Old St. Mary’s and were made man and wife, I will admit to you, dear reader, that not once did I indulge my propensities for flogging and fucking. Sweet Alice should bear the brunt of my heroic self-denial, I promised myself. But when the honeymoon was over, once back in London we would live in my apartment, where the Snuggery would always be open to receive lovely visitors, nor would it be confined only for the welcome of my bride.

    Meanwhile, Alice and I both paid a visit to Mrs. Blunt, the delectable golden-haired young widow who had become one of our spirited little group, as you will recall at the outset of my story. She was delighted at the notion of having her own maid, though she balked somewhat at the thought of its cost. Her husband, while he had left her a reasonable estate, had tied up money in various ventures which took time to accrue. But seeing that she was so pressed, I generously offered to pay Wilhelmina’s wages out of my own pocket until such time as the lovely Connie could stand the tariff without the slightest financial discomfort. Alice teased me at the time, saying that I was buying my way into Connie’s good graces, and the golden-haired young widow blushed and lowered her eyes at this. Instantly my prick started throbbing, but I told myself sternly that I was going to be a stoic and valorous warrior and not attempt to break a lance before going off to do real battle with my sweet consort Alice. Yet it was another mark added to her score, which would be settled in full in the warm climes of Italy.

    Alice and Connie then embraced in an almost tearful au revoir, and nothing would do but that they both must go out to shop for clothes for Wilhelmina so that she might be the very model of a young maidservant. As Connie was hastening to put on her cape and bonnet and Alice was accompanying her, doubtless to whisper the latest gossip, I found myself alone with the slim Wilhelmina, and she blushed furiously as she noticed that my eyes were studying her.

    “I trust you’ve forgiven me for punishing you, my dear girl,” I remarked.

    “Oh, yes, sir, I–I’m very beholden to you for saving me from that dreadful place!” she exclaimed in a nervous, husky voice. “I think I would have killed myself rather than go back there, truly, sir!”

    “Tut, tut, Wilhelmina, you must never think of such a thing again. Mrs. Blunt is a fine sweet girl and she will look after you. Of course,” I added rather roguishly, “if she does not find your services satisfactory, you must not expect to get off unpunished. My wife-to-be Alice always chastises her maid Fanny when the latter does something to displease her, and I’m sure that Alice’s sister Marion does the same thing with her own maid.”

    “I–I understand, s-sir,” the charming girl murmured, “I–I shall try very hard to give satisfactory service.”

    “Well, then, in that case, you’ve nothing to fear. And she will pay you good wages. I think you are worth at least two pounds a week and keep, and that is what I shall have Connie give you.”

    To my great surprise and delight, the lovely girl flung her arms around my neck and gave me a great hug and then an embarrassed kiss on the cheek. I disengaged myself with some difficulty, for I had no wish to be seen by Alice and Connie in such a compromising situation, the more so as I had boasted of my heroic stamina to Alice in forsaking all others until our wedding night, when I should devote myself exclusively to her delicious charms. But I will confess, dear reader, that the pressure of Wilhelmina’s lithe, slim body, of those saucy round little titties of hers against my chest, and the feel of her loins against my crotch created a most disturbing condition which I knew I would have to eliminate before the ladies returned to the salon.

    “Thank you, my dear,” I said as I drew her arms away, “but you must show your gratitude to Mrs. Blunt, for after all it is she who is engaging you.. Now be a good girl, and when I come back I shall certainly visit you.”

    “I–I do hope you will, sir. And thank you again, ever so much! I–I hope you will have a very happy honeymoon, sir.”

    I suppose had I been of a more licentious and conscienceless outlook, I should have conceived the notion of engaging Wilhelmina as my own personal maid, since I did not have a servant to tend my wants, arrange my clothes, draw my bath and provide all those other little amenities which make life so much more tolerable when one has means. But I had perhaps already thought of that very quickly and dismissed the notion, because I have found that the gift of love when made spontaneously is very often more delicious than that which is compelled or drawn out of fear or force. Yes, you will say that I am not entirely consistent, for had I not employed the birch and the envelope cutter to break down haughty and virginal Miss Julia Denton’s resistance until she was, willy-nilly, obliged to proffer me the pleasure of her hymen. Well, this I will admit, but I will also in extenuation observe that Miss Denton herself secretly longed to have her resistance overcome by voluptuous means, of which I had already been informed by the naughty daughter of Lady Betty Bashe. Now if I were Wilhelmina’s master, nothing would be easier than to order her to undress and place her naked body at my carnal disposal on pain of a severe birching or bottom-smacking. But in her present state of excited girlish emotions, grateful for having found at last a refuge and a situation as Connie Blunt’s maid, she would wish to express her gratitude to me, I felt certain, in palpably lascivious ways, for she was at that age when a young damsel begins to experience the sweet itch of nature between her lovely legs. And I would far rather profit from such a bounteous voluntary surrender than overcome her qualms about her maidenhead by thrashing her until pain alone made her submit to this as the lesser of two evils.

    This may seem somewhat complex to you, dear reader, but if your circumstances permit you to indulge your erotic fancies as happily my own life has been so blessed, you will at once perceive the difference between brute force and gently persuasive voluptuous chastisement, whose purpose is solely to stimulate both Executioner and Victim and to act as a kind of benevolent stimulus to their eventual sexual union. I may here point out that I have never yet and never shall draw blood from a tender naked female bottom-unless, to be sure, the offender has committed some heinous wrong which merits cold brutality. No, I am a voluptuary, with all the perceptions which lead me to prolongation and anticipation and the slow and gradually exquisite development of the ritual of benign chastisement leading toward that ultimate crescendo of life which is fucking.

    Now that you perhaps better understand my outlook, let me continue my narrative. Happily, I was able to put a slight distance between myself and Wilhelmina Ponsonby by the time Alice and Connie emerged, chattering away like magpies. Connie looked over at her new maid and tried to make a very stern face out of her lovely visage as she instructed, “Now, Willy,”-she had already adopted this nickname for her new servant-“you’ll stay here and, if anyone should ring the bell, you will open the door on chain and inquire if there is a message. I should be back within two or three hours. If you like, you may take a bath.”

    “Oh, thank you, Mrs. Blunt!” Wilhelmina exclaimed, her eyes sparkling while at the same time the rosy mantle of a delicious blush suffused her pale white cheeks. Again she glanced at me, and I pretended not to notice as I took Alice’s arm. But I began to discern, with that foreknowledge which the true voluptuary always possesses and which is a kind of seventh sense, that Wilhelmina was thinking about this bath and was somewhat enchantingly embarrassed by the images it evoked, namely, that of denuding her lovely lithe body in all its virginal charms and being aware also that I had heard her new mistress’s recommendation to so strip herself, which would in turn suggest to me those charms which I had seen for the first time in the Snuggery.

    I could see that when I returned from my honeymoon, there might well be a new acolyte ready to sacrifice upon the altars of Venus and Priapus. And on such a happy note I prepared to depart upon my honeymoon, knowing that when I returned, the honeymoon might well be perpetuated by amorous badinage and conspiratorial carnal adventurings!

    Chapter 17

    I need not bore you with too detailed an account of the vagaries and the journeyings which befell sweet Alice and myself during our honeymoon. Briefly, we were wed in the afternoon and repaired to a tasty little supper-reception which was held at Alice’s apartment. Marion and her maid Kay were there, as were of course charming Fanny and Mrs. Blunt and Wilhelmina. Doubtless if I had sent a notice of our wedding to Molly Bashe, she might herself have appeared in the company of Miss Julia Denton. I had not told Alice of this magical afternoon which you, my reader, vicariously shared with me, because I foresaw that if it should be repeated, Alice would then take an active part for the greater enjoyment of all concerned. And I wished the dear girl to think that I had been continent all during her absence as well as during this period prior to our wedlock.

    That night, we embarked upon a steamer bound for Naples, and that night in our cabin I formally became Alice’s lord and master, adored and adoring husband and ably satisfying lover. I was not really cross with my darling for having imposed upon me the vow of chastity, because I discovered it entirely worthwhile that my furiously pent-up passions had been stored all for her, and I can assure you that she was left gasping upon her pillow by the time we sought the arms of Morpheus rather than each other’s!

    The week-long trip left us little to do except to eat, sun ourselves upon the promenade deck, and at night, enjoying the bounty which dear Venus grants spouse and consort as well as sweetheart and lover-for were we not all these in ourselves to each other?

    We spent three days in Naples, two in Florence, and another four in Rome, and decided to spend three days in the countryside as we had both agreed. There my adorable Alice became a forest nymph in a sylvan glade and, blushingly removing all her garments, waded into a stream with myself after her. The squeals and giggles and soft hushed sounds of kisses and of passionate embraces followed, as our dripping bodies wrestled upon the bank of that fortuitous stream, and we felt as if we had been reincarnated back in time through the eons to become Pan and forest nymph indeed.

    It was on our last night in the little inn where we had commandeered the best set of rooms that Alice and I lay in bed naked, she with her hand upon my already limpened cock, seeking to restore to it its powers so that we might for the third time embark upon the wonderful voyage to Cythera of which we mortals never tire, and I with my lips paying tribute to a dark-rosy tumescent nipplebud, reveling in the sweet smell and taste of my Alice, all of whose secrets I had explored and found as new and inviting as on that first time in the Snuggery.

    “Jack dearest,” she breathed into my ear, as her other hand caressed my cheek, “Are you sorry you married me?”

    “What a question to ask!”

    “But I do mean it. You know, you had me without marriage and you could have always had me without this. Now you will have to be a dutiful husband and obey all the laws which a natural wife will exact from you.”

    “Not quite all, my love,” I laughed softly. “Because you are not and never will be the model and conventional kind of wife who berates her husband if he so much as dares to look at another woman. I will be faithful you, yes, and this you may expect as my pledge, but I will not always be continent, for you alone. Yet I promise that you shall share all my joys, because you are now flesh of my flesh and body of my body.”

    “Why, I think I like that better than the marriage vows, sir,” Alice giggled as she gave my prickhead an adorable little squeeze which nearly brought the life back then and there. “Do you know what I’m really longing to do when we get back?”

    “I can hardly imagine,” I laughed softly.

    “I want to see Connie and Wilhelmina tied up and made to love each other, as you made Fanny and me do in that dreadful den of yours, Jack!” she declared.

    “Well, to be truthful with you Alice, I have been thinking of just such an eventuality myself. You know that when we found that Connie was not a virgin, we knew that she had been married but a brief time to an elderly husband whose nature could not stand her passionate young beauty. But we never did decide, nor did Connie tell us whether she lost her sweet hymen to that elderly mate or whether by some other happier circumstance she entered upon the state of womanhood.”

    “And I know something else, sir,” Alice added with mock gravity as she now slid her soft little hand down to my balls and began to tickle them. “You would like very much to flog and fuck that pretty Wilhelmina, wouldn’t you, Jack?”

    “I should be a liar if I said no, my darling,” I told her truthfully.

    “That tricky little wench is grateful to you because you found her that post with Mrs. Blunt,” Alice said thoughtfully. “But I’m not going to stand by helplessly and watch her cuckold me in my own house. You will have her and her mistress over after a week or two upon our return to England, darling, and I propose to take a hand with Wilhelmina’s saucy bottom. I hurt that very hand smacking it, as you will recall and you had all the pleasure of giving her the birch. This time, sir, things are going to be different in this household!”

    She thrust out her lower lip, and she looked so deliciously defiant that I could not help rolling her over and giving her plump ivory bottom a hard little smack. Whereupon she squealed, wriggled round onto her back and drew me down to her, and by then, I must admit, I was prepared for the journey as if I had never made it before on that sweet night of nights…

    But we had not once touched on the subject of Marion, and I was waiting for Alice to propound the topic. On our way back on the steamer, the same one by the way that had brought us to our land of romantic honeymooning, we took further joy of each other and got better to understand each other’s whims and foibles. No, I was not sorry that I had given up my liberty to wed my Alice. She had none of the exasperating faults which many lesser women do; she did not snore, and that was a great blessing! Even with her hair tumbled on her ivory bosom, her limbs sprawled, and her lips parted with slumber full upon her, she looked so irresistibly fuckable that I knew I should not tire of putting thought into action. And now that she had become a full-fledged voluptuary and shared my amorous penchants, she would be partner as well as wife, helpmate as well as houri.

    Thus in all our honeymoon lasted slightly over four weeks instead of the three we had originally planned, but I would not have changed it by one day. I knew that it would give Marion ample time to ponder how she should herself reveal to her sister the understanding that I had already tasted her widowed charms as well as the fresher and younger delights which saucy red-haired Kay had bestowed upon me after her chastisement.

    And so we came home to our London, in a downpour of rain and heavy fog at Waterloo station. The fall season was upon us and then would come the winter, but to me this was as cheerful a prospect as the glorious sun and blue sky which we had enjoyed in Byron’s Italy. Because, you see, when the weather is foul, such a milieu as the Snuggery takes on added luster, an exotic lure. I may even say that for a voluptuary who appreciates the tasty ramifications of female flesh as I do, there is no more pleasurable season in all the year than when it is bad weather outside and hot passionate climate inside!

    Fanny had been staying at Alice’s former apartment until our return, and she was there at the station to meet us with an umbrella, herself half drenched, but obviously delighted to see her mistress and master safely back.

    We were able to find a cab to drive us to my quarters, and so we arrived late of an evening, only to find that dear thoughtful Fanny had anticipated our need and had ordered from Willoughby’s a substantial and most fortifying hot supper, with a bottle of excellent hock as well as one of claret, to welcome us back in style.

    Nothing would do but that she must share this feast with us, and I lifted my glass of claret to click against my wife’s glass and then Fanny’s, with the toast, “May all of us be together in good weather as in bad, in good times and poor, as ardently bound together in our friendship then as we are now!”

    Once supper was over and the dishes out of the way, Alice became at once the mistress of the household. She demanded from Fanny an accounting of how the latter had kept her apartment during her absence and whether certain little errands which she had commissioned to do had been carried out. Much to my delight, Fanny clapped a hand to her cheek and gasped, when Alice had remarked about one particular errand, “Oh, gracious, Miss Alice, that one I forgot, I do confess! I shall do it in the morning!”

    “That you shall, you saucy vixen. But in the morning you shall execute that errand with a reddened bottom which you will receive here and now. Jack, since she is still my maid and not yours, sir, and since this order was given to her while I was becoming your wife-and very nicely too!” this with a divine blush which made me chuckle-“I myself shall inflict Fanny’s punishment.”

    Fanny glanced at me appealingly. “Oh, Mr. Jack,” she entreated, “I shan’t mind at all if you’ll console me afterwards. Miss Alice hasn’t punished me in over a month now, and I am afraid she will go to it very severely.”

    “If by that, Fanny,” Alice tartly rejoined, “you are trying to seduce my husband, you are going to get not only a bottomsmacking, but a birching as well to teach you not to be so licentious. You will go into the Snuggery and prepare yourself. I’m going to take you over my lap and spank your big naked bottom with my hand first, and then we shall see what you deserve after that.”

    Fanny exhaled a long doleful sigh, once again glanced at me petitioningly, but I merely folded my arms and stared her down, until with still another sigh of rueful anticipation she rose and walked towards the Snuggery. Alice and I followed her, arm in arm, Alice pausing every so often to kiss me on the mouth and to whisper, “You’ll be proud of me, dearest, you’ll see! I’ve learned so much from you that now I must practice my technique so that I shan’t disappoint you.”

    Just before we entered the Snuggery, she whispered to me, “If you are a very good boy, I may let you fuck Fanny tonight, but it will have to be on my terms, sir, for after all she still belongs to me!”

    “I will not gainsay your right, my adorable wife,” I laughed.

    So Fanny’s fate was sealed, but I suspected it would not be one to cause her much anguish-at least not the last part of it!

    My blood was beginning to heat in my veins, and with good reason. Fanny was a distinctly pretty girl, tall, slenderly but sturdily built, with a superbly developed figure. She had a slightly turned-up nose and dark flashing eyes which gave her face a saucy look. And in her manner of speaking, her actions in movement, her entire personality, this sauciness was predominant, while her dark hair and rich coloring of skin indicated a warm-blooded and very passionate temperament-attributes which as you well know I had already discovered for my happy self.

    “How do you wish me, Miss Alice?” Fanny now turned to my wife with a downcast look, though her bosom was heaving and her cheeks were already deliciously flushed, indicating that she was not too apprehensive over what was to follow.

    Alice gave me a glance and then a wink, and firmly replied: “Absolutely naked, Miss, except for your stockings and garters and your shoes. And be quick about it, because my hand is itching for that backside of yours!”

    Fanny’s blushes intensified as she hastily began to divest her pretty maid’s costume, removing her vest and chemise and finally her drawers, and standing in black stockings rising to midthigh and held there by satin-elastic garters with coquettish little flounces, and her trim buttoned shoes. As for myself, the very sight of that mass of dark curling moss-like hair which covered Fanny’s cunt stirred my prick to fond remembrance and to longing that this remembrance should be revivified by once again testing Fanny’s sweet inner dimensions with the measuring staff of my rigid prick.

    Fanny’s lusciously rounded half-moons and her plump womanly thighs and saucily rounded calves regaled my roving eyes, and I did not try to hide my state of erection. Alice glanced at it and gave me another naughty wink, then seized Fanny by the wrist and led her over to a bench on which she seated herself, forcing her naked maid to drape herself across her lap.

    “Jack, come here, I want you,” she called to me, and I hastened to approach.

    “Now then, Fanny, you will suck and lick my husband’s cock while you clasp your hands behind your back, you naughty girl, but you’ll go very slowly so as not to make him come because I want him first. If you bungle this, I shall really take a birch and thrash your wicked backside until it is black and blue!”

    I made haste to open my breeches and to present my furiously rampant organ to blushing Fanny’s ministrations. She took the tip between her lips and began to nuzzle softly while Alice, grasping her clasped wrists with her own left hand, raised her right and began to spank Fanny’s naked bottom with gusto.

    Fanny gasped and squirmed and wriggled and kicked up her prettily stockinged legs from time to time, but she did not struggle in resistance as she kept breathing and mouthing the tip of my prick all the while.

    By the time she had had about forty slaps, her ivory bottom was a fiery red and she twisted and squirmed herself about, grinding her furry pussy against Alice’s thighs with evident excitement.

    Now Alice told her to get up and to kneel on all fours beside the large couch to which, one happy afternoon, Fanny had been bound and spread-eagled for me to fuck at Alice’s own conspiratorial arrangement. The large settee-couch was specially equipped for this, and I watched Alice eagerly to see if this was what she intended to do. But instead she swiftly divested herself of her dressing gown and, stark naked and adorably beautiful, flung herself down on her back on the settee, couch and beckoned to me.

    In a moment I was deep inside her sheath, which was already moist and tightening with love, as she clasped me ferociously with her arms and legs and arched and twisted under me until our spasm passed deliriously.

    Now Fanny was summoned to lie on her back, and her wrists and ankles were made fast to the two top corners and the lower ones. Alice then touched the levers which I had indicated to her sometime before, and Fanny’s legs were straddled a full yard apart, while her arms were tractioned and spread equally wide.

    The magnificent nakedness of her ivory body was tautly presented, but Alice now shoved a cushion under her behind, pinching her nipples until Fanny squealed and arched herself up to permit this.

    “Now then, Jack, I am going to prepare you to fuck Fanny,” my wife whispered to me as she went down on her knees, fondled my organ and began to flick her dainty pink tongue against the quivering tip of my ramrod.

    I can assure you it did not take long to reinvigorate me for this task, what with Alice’s Frenching me and my eyes remaining all the while on Fanny’s straddled helpless naked body, watching those luscious round titties rise and fall in the violent upheaval of her emotions. Her stinging naked bottom was pressing against the couch, and it was obvious that her own emotions were furiously excited by this time.

    When Alice judged that I was hard enough to service Fanny, she slapped me on the bottom and urged, “Now give it to her good, and after that she shall have the rest of her smacking!”

    “Oh, Miss Alice, not more, please, not after this!” Fanny wailed.

    I was already astride my beautiful wife’s maid, and in a trice my prick was buried to the hilt inside her tight warm moist cunt, and she began to moan and sob, “Oh, sir, oh it’s so good-oh, Mr. Jack, I’m in heaven, oh do it to me good-ooh-aah-ooooh!”

    Alice allowed Fanny a reprieve to get her breath and to rouse herself from the sweet languor into which this vigorous fucking had plunged her. Then she handed me a little switch and said, “I have decided that you shall switch Fanny’s legs and stomach while I kneel over her and get her to excite me so you can fuck me a sweet goodnight, darling Jack!”

    Was ever man blessed with so cooperative and inventive a wife as I!

    Bending over the couch, I flicked the little thin switch Alice had handed me over Fanny’s inner thighs and belly, drawing frantic wriggles and squeals from the naked beauty. Alice, meanwhile, squatting down over Fanny’s face, pinched her nipples and forced her to gamahuch her until my darling wife was so roused that she hurried over to me and took hold of my cock and panted, “I must have him now, darling, I simply must!”

    And thus our first night back in London was spent in spending, and I had begun my husbandly harem by acquiring sweet Fanny as a loveslave to service both my beloved wife and myself!

    Chapter 18

    So a new life began for me, householder, husband and master of a beautiful, passionate young wife and her flirtatious and seductive maid. For ten full days I enjoyed the conclusion of my honeymoon in my own home terrain, without interruption. However, about the seventh afternoon, a messenger rang my bell to bring me a note from none other than Molly Bashe, and at a most inopportune moment. I was only in my dressing robe and slippers, and I was whiling away a very rainy and dreary afternoon in the most delightful of fashions: namely, having charming Fanny spread-eagled on the settee-couch on her belly with sweet Alice seated with yawning thighs and clad only in her hose and vest, her mossy lovegarden proffered to Fanny’s adoring mouth whilst Alice’s fingers entwined in her maid’s hair, leaving me the clear field of Fanny’s luscious bottom and thighs to smack with a battledore until the dear girl agreed to let me introduce my organ into the tender and furtive little orifice between her buttocks.

    I have not often performed this oblique and backward tribute to Venus, but it was my own dear wife who so naughtily suggested it. Fanny at once began to wring her hands and implore mercy, swearing it would never go in, whereupon Alice had immediately sentenced Fanny to a sound smacking to overcome her misgivings and also to punish her for impertinence towards her mistress.

    No, dear reader, far, from being disgruntled over my loss of bachelor freedom, it appeared to me that, if the first days of wedlock were any omen upon my own home grounds, I should look forward to a riotously ecstatic existence, where my only problem would be to summon up sufficient energy to share among the lovely members of my willing harem!

    I tipped the messenger at once and put Molly’s message into the pocket of my gown, then hurried back to the Snuggery. Fanny was still squirming and wriggling and sobbing, but all the same she was gamahuching Alice most enthusiastically as I entered and once again cast off my robe to evince my manhood, which was in violent erection.

    “What was that, darling?” Alice panted, while she twisted her fingers in Fanny’s hair and forced her lovely maid to use her tongue into that pink gape which was so dear to me.

    “A message requesting that I visit an old friend, dear,” I glibly responded, “and I sent back word that of course I was otherwise occupied.”

    “I rather think you would,” Alice slyly responded with a giggle. “Now keep on smacking Fanny’s bottom soundly, darling, because I am dying to see you bugger her!”

    “It appears, my charming wife, that you have become a very aggressive sadist, if the truth be known. Poor Fanny will have to endure the pangs of the flights of your fancy, it would appear,” I laughed. I took up the battledore, seated myself on the edge of the settee-couch and began to smack those lusciously rounded nether cheeks, already flaming from my previous attentions. Fanny began to arch and wriggle and squirm, rubbing her pussy to and fro against the thick upholstery of this couch of captivity, and I suspected that she was not entirely displeased with the sensations received both fore and aft, judging from her moans and sighs and little whimpering gasps as well as from her frantically hurried looks over her beautiful ivory shoulders at my flush and intent face. It was really a charming sight to behold this dark-haired vivacious maid lying on her belly with her legs straddled hugely to give access to her most intimate parts, her arms equally drawn well apart and fixed immutably to the other end of the couch, while my own dear wife in vest and stockings and her beauty bare from waist to mid thigh, crouched on her knees and lifted up Fanny’s head by dint of twisting her fingers in Fanny’s hair to force our lovely maid to gamahuch her.

    “Maybe you should use a birch rod, her bottom is so big and hard,” Alice said tauntingly.

    “Ohh, Mr. Jack, please don’t do that, sir!” Fanny tearfully begged, “That awful smacking is making my poor bottom terribly sore, truly it is!”

    “In that case, you naughty girl, tell your master that you are ready for him to bugger you, and maybe he will spare you the rod,” was Alice’s rejoinder.

    To add more persuasive eloquence to my lovely wife’s argument, I applied four or five stinging whacks of the battledore right across both flaming globes, bridging the mysteriously shadowy crease whose hidden temple I was intended to profane, and Fanny’s hips lunged and swerved in every direction as she squealed her pangs of woe: “OWWW! Ahhhh, oh don’t, sir I’ll do it, I’ll let you do it to me, oh please don’t smack my poor bottom any more and I’ll obey!”

    “That’s being very sensible, Fanny,” Alice told her, “But don’t forget you have a duty to perform on me, your mistress, too. Now you just keep kissing and licking me until I come, or I’ll have Mr. Jack take the birch after all when he’d done buggering you. Go ahead, darling, I’m just dying to see how you’re going to do it to her!”

    She relaxed her grip in Fanny’s hair to permit her charming maid to look round and study-not without apprehension-my maneuvers. I took a jar of cold cream which I had already in advance brought out and put upon a tabouret, opened it and daubed a goodly amount over my stiff prick, from tip to balls. Then, pressing open Fanny’s buttocks with my left thumb and median finger, I anointed the puckering and shrinking little rosette of her tender arsehole, whereupon she uttered plaintive sighs and gasps and finally a stammered supplication, “Ohh, s-sir, please be very gentle, I’m so afraid! Don’t hurt me, I’ll be a good girl!”

    “I shall try my best, my lovely Fanny, not to make your first experience in the kingdom of Sodom too anguishing a one, and I shall solace you immediately thereafter,” I promised.

    Now grasping the cheeks of her flaming bottom and forcing them gently and slowly apart, I proffered the tip of my prong to the shrinking crevice, and gently introduced the tip just past the ring of sphincter muscles. There I halted, while Fanny groaned and sobbed and squirmed in the most capricious and salacious manner, and all these nippings and clippings of her agile anal ring against the imbedded tip of my ramrod caused me the most indescribable thrilling sensations I had ever known. Much of this, I will agree, was due to the beauty and the salacity of the tableau: I faced my wife, whose thin vest could not conceal the panting rondures of her magnificent bosom, with her dark-fleeced cunt gaping and pink and glistening from Fanny’s lips and tongue. I had there before me the stretched-out, spread-eagled naked body of lovely Fanny, whose buttocks were crimson from my own smacking, and whose deeply hollowed back shivered and rippled with myriad tremors. And the anguished look on that saucy face as she turned her head back towards me whetted my carnal appetites immeasurably.

    I thrust a little farther, and Fanny squealed: “Oh sir, no more, oh I can’t bear it, truly I can’t, sir! Oh do have mercy and birch me instead, I know I shall die!”

    “You little fool, you silly goose,” Alice chided her, “get back to your work, for I am midway between heaven and hell, and you shall finish me off before he finishes you, Fanny, or I’ll know the reason why!”

    Giving a yank to Fanny’s hair, she made the sobbing lovely naked maid return to gamahuching, whilst I took advantage of this intervention to thrust a little deeper this time, until I was halfway into Fanny’s tender rectal channel.

    It was all I could do to hold back my vital juices, so violently potent were the contractions of sweet Fanny’s nether sheath, so I closed my eyes and ground my teeth and waited until I had regained some measure of control before I essayed the final half of that journey deep into the temple of Sodom.

    And when at last I had reached it, Alice was near her spend, but now both her hands gripped Fanny by the latter’s dainty little ears as she forced the poor girl’s face deep into her cunt and wriggled and squirmed and groaned aloud till finally her body shuddered in the violent earthquake of completion. Seeing and hearing all this drew my essence deep and bubblingly into Fanny’s bowels, and we all three expired with delight… for to appease the sweet and docile maid, I had slid my right hand between her straddled legs and my forefinger had found the tender button of her utmost sensitivity, frigging it until she too attained the most furious of climaxes.

    But that same night, as I was reading the Times, sweet Alice emerged from the sitting room where she had undoubtedly been consoling dear Fanny, with whom she had been reading a new novel by a young aspiring writer by the name of Galsworthy. In her hand she was waving a folded note, and when I recognized the telltale lavender paper, I gulped and was nonplussed for a moment.

    “So this, sir, is the visitor who wished to see you and whom you rebuffed, is it?” she declared, her large eyes sparkling with anger. “Miss Molly Bashe, indeed! I thought we had seen the last of that high-flown bitch when Connie and Fanny and I paid her and her mother off for trying to hook you as a husband! And here you are making overtures to her!”

    “Now just a moment, my dear,” I heard myself saying, with a fatalistic kind of awareness that my stereotyped remark had probably been uttered by every well-meaning husband since the year One. “There is an explanation for all this, and if you will quiet down a bit, I shall give it to you.”

    “It had best be convincing, Jack, or you shan’t sleep with me tonight, you wicked, villainous seducer you! What went on between you and Molly Bashe? It must have happened during the week I was away.”

    “That is exactly when it did happen, my love,” I remarked. “But-”

    “Then you do admit that you saw her and you probably, knowing you as I do, fucked her too, didn’t you?” Alice was working herself up into a veritable passion.

    “Will you allow me to explain, and without raising your voice, darling?”

    “Do so, but be quick about it! Otherwise tonight I shall sleep with Fanny, and maybe for the next night, and then after that too, until I think that you have been sufficiently punished for cheating as soon as I was out of town!”

    “Now you have fallen into several errors, which are going to turn the tables and earn you a chastisement, Alice,” I chuckled. “Primarily, when you were away that week, we were not yet at the point of my asking you to do me the honor of becoming my beloved wife. Isn’t that true?”

    “Well, yes, but-” Alice grumbled.

    “But that is the actual truth. In the second place, I swear I had no thoughts except for your return when one afternoon there was a knock at my door, and there stood Miss Bashe and a friend of hers named Julia Denton. What did the forward young minx do but entreat me, taking me to one side, to involve her and her companion in one of the little dramas that take place in our beloved Snuggery. Miss Bashe gave me to understand that she had found a secret delight in being humiliated and thrashed and fucked, and that her friend, having just been jilted and being most unhappy, was also possessed of a secret yearning to be mastered and taken. What could I do but accommodate them?”

    “You rogue! And you didn’t tell me one word of this until just now, because I trapped you when I found this note in your gown!”

    “Which you ought not really to have done, my dear. That implies distrust, and at such an early stage in our marriage, an attitude like that is very unwholesome. But we will forget it all-”

    “I am not so sure I will!” Alice defiantly retorted.

    “So be it. But if you wish, I shall grant Molly and her friend a return engagement, and you shall be present to hold them to a strict accounting of our new relationship together if you wish,” I promised.

    And so Alice was mollified and crept into my arms, and presently into my bed where we spent the most delightful of nights.

    Yet for the first time the seed of discord had been sown. I could only wonder what would happen when Alice discovered that Marion, far from detesting me, had herself effected a most tender and burning reconciliation!

    Chapter 19

    But after this one altercation which was the first rift in the lute of marital bliss, my life with sweet Alice took on a most radiant aspect. It appeared that my young wife was most jealous of me, even so far as Fanny was concerned, for she meted out those moments when the pretty, dark-haired maid should have the privilege of sharing our connubial couch or bed, and invariably she saw to it that Fanny solaced her rather more than me. I offered no argument to this state of affairs, for I was thinking that the time would soon be ripe to have Connie and her Wilhelmina present in the Snuggery for our pleasure. Marion too had stayed away, though she had sent a note by messenger to welcome us back to London after our honeymoon and to wish us every happiness.

    Meanwhile, at the end of about the second week after our return from Italy, Alice and I paid a visit to Connie Blunt to see how she and Wilhelmina were faring. Golden-haired Connie expressed herself as enchanted with the young maid’s prompt docility and eagerness to please, so I slyly asked, once Wilhelmina was out of the room, “By that do you mean that she provides some tender amorous joys for you, my dear Connie?”

    “Oh my gracious, no, Jack!” Connie gasped and blushed. “She is much too innocent. I had not even thought of her in that way.”

    “But I have,” Alice interposed with a naughty wink at me. “I should like to find out more of what happened to her at the orphanage.”

    “I have asked her several times, dear Alice, but she has shown a great reluctance to discuss it.”

    “Perhaps,” I proposed, “under the persuasive threat of a good smacking or a birching, she might be induced to be more frank about her past. And you, Connie, did you not miss me?”

    “Now that is a fine question to ask another woman in your wife’s presence, sir,” Alice’s eyes flashed with anger, but when she saw me smile she couldn’t help laughing, and in a spirit of amicable friendship, held out both hands to dear Connie, who squeezed them and flung herself into Alice’s arms. “Oh, I could just eat you up, Connie dear!” Alice breathed.

    Connie slowly disengaged her hands and stepped back, blushing divinely down to her throat and even to her dainty little ears. I remembered how we, Alice and Fanny and myself, had secured Mrs. Blunt and stripped her and fondled and felt her until she had finally yielded to her first real fucking-only to have me make the discovery that she was not a virgin, something which an earlier fingering had already suggested.

    “I tell you what, Connie, why don’t you bring Wilhelmina round tomorrow afternoon to visit us?” Alice now proposed in a gay voice. “Are you sure that she has been so good you have no reason to wish her punished?”

    “I really can’t think of anything, Alice dear,” Connie retorted.

    “Well, if you can’t, I shall,” Alice said with determination. And so it was agreed…

    The next afternoon at two promptly, the bell rang and Fanny admitted Mrs. Blunt and Wilhelmina. The latter wore a lacy maid’s cap, a black skirt and white blouse, black lisle stockings, and dainty shoes with little ribbon bows at the instep. I observed that she had let her hair grow longer now, so that the troublingly mannish look which she had had when we first encountered her as a pseudo-waiter from Willoughby’s was gone. Her hair was neatly piled in a round bun at the back of her head, leaving her nape and ears bare. But it gave her quite a charmingly saucy mien, all the same.

    I had already apprised Fanny what was going to take place this afternoon, and the charming girl could hardly wait to be reunited with lovely Connie Blunt again. Connie wore this afternoon a pink long dress which did wonders for her pearly-white, deliciously dazzling skin, and I found that the bodice was even more audacious than she generally wore, indicating that doubtless she was as impatient to be reunited with us who had initiated her into the voluptuous mysteries of Life and Love as we were to augment her erotic education.

    Fanny served tea, and cast Connie many ardent looks from under her thick curly lashes, which made the delicious young widow blush again.

    “I am happy to see you again, Wilhelmina,” I now remarked, “and I trust that you are feeling more secure in your new situation and that you and Mrs. Blunt are at least good friends.”

    “Oh yes, sir!” the charming young girl responded in that inimitably husky voice which never failed to set the blood coursing hotly through my veins.

    “Why, that is good news, my dear girl,” I said generously. “I am happy that things turned out so well, aren’t you, my beloved wife?”

    “Perhaps,” Alice said with a sniff of disdain, “but Wilhelmina still owes me three pounds, you know.”

    “Alice,” I chided lovingly, “you are being petty. I am sure that she paid for that when we chastised her.”

    Now Wilhelmina’s face was as crimson as Connie’s had been a little while ago, and she looked down at the floor as if wishing herself leagues under it.

    “Tell me, Connie dear,” Alice drawled, “are you certain that your new maid has been properly disciplined, and that she performs all your orders without argument and question?”

    “Well, not exactly,” Connie giggled, with an arched glance at me, “because I have persistently asked her to tell me about the orphanage, and she keeps silent on that score.”

    “Oh, Mrs. Blunt, please, you really mustn’t ask me about that! I beg you not to!” came from Wilhelmina.

    “Revolt in the ranks!” I laughingly observed as I rose with a gesture to Alice and at Fanny to hold themselves in readiness. “I think perhaps we had best thresh matters out. Come along, Connie, and tell your maid to accompany us.”

    “Oh, what-what do you mean, sir?” Wilhelmina stammered.

    “I mean, my girl,” I said sternly, “that you are at last going to tell us the truth about your origin.”

    “No, I shan’t! You have no right to pry anymore! I paid my penalty, and I’m working for Mrs. Blunt and-oh do let go of me, sir-it’s wrong-oh please-don’t do this!” Wilhelmina cried as now Fanny and I and Alice seized her by the arms and elbows and dragged her toward the Snuggery, with Connie following.

    But once we were inside, and once we had swiftly bound Wilhelmina’s wrists to the pulley ropes dangling from the ceiling, the three of us as a united household now turned upon the golden-haired young widow. “And you, Connie,” Alice said greedily, “still have a score to settle with me. Dear Jack and I both wish to know how it was that, for all your professions of maidenly innocence, we discovered that you were not a virgin at all, you naughty girl! Seize her, Fanny, and hoist her alongside Wilhelmina!”

    “I have a still better idea,” I chuckled. “Move that lever so that the other set of pulley ropes will dangle exactly in front of Wilhelmina, and we shall have maid and mistress opposite each other for a reckoning!”

    “A capital idea, my darling,” Alice approved.

    And so it was. A few minutes later, Connie Blunt found herself with her arms dragged high above her head standing in front of her own maid, while Fanny and Alice were swiftly disrobing the two young women.

    This was not done without shrieks and cries and pleas from both of them, but I was obdurate in the matter. I wished only to preside as a kind of arbiter, and render impartial justice.

    Alice herself was stripping Wilhelmina, while Fanny lovingly disrobed the young widow. Connie wore a corset, a chemise and vest, and when her drawers were removed she stood in stockings and garters and her shoes, a wealth of disorderly golden hair tumbling on her panting bosom, her face scarlet. Meanwhile, I drank in with my eyes her tall slender naked figure, uninterrupted from midthigh to her updrawn hands, and that enforced attitude displaying to perfection the voluptuous curves of her hips, her luscious haunches, her magnificently rounded bottom and shapely legs. But what a pearly, delicious skin she had, and the contrast of those full juicy buttocks as against the delicious little titties which stood naughtily out with their coral nipples protruding and stiff as they quivered and palpitated on her heaving bosom! And then the round smooth belly with its adorable niche like a jewel in the center, and over the soft cunt a thickly clustering mass of silky, curly, golden-brown hairs hiding the soft pink lips which I myself had explored and found to be tight and grudging in their yielding to my ramrod but, alas for Connie’s sweet sanctity, not virginal!

    “Oh, aren’t they lovely, Miss Alice!” Fanny enthused, her eyes sparkling.

    “Indeed they are, but Wilhelmina is mine,” said my young and beautiful wife. Then she looked at me and said sternly, “Jack, let us go make ourselves more comfortable so that we can deal with these wicked girls! Fanny, go find two feathers, you’ll find them in the chest back in the corner there, and get them ready. They are going to be tickled and smacked, and maybe many things more, until we learn the truth about them both!” So saying, Alice crooked her arm through mine, and led me off into our dressing room, where each of us with eager hands undressed the other until my darling wife was naked but for her hose and garters and her button shoes, over which she at once put a negligee of red satin that was most becoming. Indeed, I was almost tempted to forget the two occupants of the Snuggery and to take my wife to bed then and there for the rest of the day. But that would be to eschew the luscious temptations awaiting us both. I myself put on only a dressing gown and slippers, and then we went back as a happily married couple should to share the pleasures which awaited us.

    Fanny had already procured the long downy feathers, one in each hand, and was awaiting us. When she saw how summarily we were dressed, she exclaimed, “Oh, won’t you let me undress too, Miss Alice?”

    “You may do so at once, Fanny, but hurry back,” Alice retorted. “Hand me those feathers at once!”

    “Oh dear, what are they going to do to us, Mrs. Blunt?” Wilhelmina Ponsonby sobbed.

    “I’m afraid, Wilhelmina,” Connie replied with a languorous sigh, and a glance over her shoulder at me which indicated that she was not particularly angry with me for having reduced her to such a naked and helpless state, “that there is nothing we can do about it except obey them.”

    “That is sound advice, Willy,” I chuckled. But now Alice had planted herself behind the lovely young maid and was busy rasping both feathers over the young girl’s bottom, pausing occasionally to reach under Wilhelmina’s milky posterior to caress her cunt.

    “Darling, why don’t you find out if she is a nice girl or not?” Alice now demanded of me.

    I did not need a second invitation, believe me! In a trice, I stood at their sides as they faced each other, and putting my left hand out toward Wilhelmina’s cunt, I prodded my forefinger through the thick fleece of her pubis and towards the dainty shell-pink lips of her cunny.

    With a cry, she backed away, but Alice had shifted both feathers to her left hand and rewarded that maneuver with a furious open-handed smack that made Wilhelmina squeal and lunge forward to rub her pussy against Connie’s.

    “Now you are going to tell me the truth for once and for all, Wilhelmina,” I ordered. “What actually happened in that orphanage?”

    “Oh please, sir, I’m so ashamed, I don’t dare tell you!” Wilhelmina sobbed.

    Then she shrieked, and wriggled and tried to jerk herself away, for my stealthy forefinger had crept between the lips of her pussy and was digging inward until I came up against-nothing. Wilhelmina Ponsonby was definitely not a virgin!”

    Meanwhile, Alice, quite excited and irate, was applying quick and stinging and noisy smacks to the lovely pale milky cheeks of Wilhelmina’s bottom, driving the young girl forward against my finger, which continued to dig up to the hilt inside her tender tight but definitely unvirgined cunt.

    “Oww! Oh dear, oh please, Miss Alice, don’t smack me so hard! I’ll tell you-oh please, sir, take your finger out of there, I want to die of shame-oh, Mrs. Blunt, what must you think of me!” our lovely Willy cried.

    But I kept my finger deep inside of her, as I warned her, “If you don’t start to talk at once, I shall have my wife take a birch to your bare posterior, my girl.”

    And so she made no further protest over where my finger was, but she looked back frantically over her shoulder to see whether Alice was in reality procuring a birch for her stinging and smarting bottom. Then she sobbed, her face downcast and her head bowed, “I did come from the orphanage, it’s true… but that dreadful man who ran the place… until finally I couldn’t stand it anymore, because the matron was taking me into a cell all the time and giving me the strap or the birch. And so I–I let him h-h-have me… that’s the truth, sir, oh forgive me!”

    So that would explain lovely Wilhelmina’s disguise into the more untouchable costume of a male and also her aversion to whipping, to say nothing of her distress when my forefinger had traversed her sheath and found no obstruction to halt its inroads!

    “Come now, Alice dear,” I chuckled, “you can see that Wilhelmina is not the naughty undisciplined girl you have always believed her to be. She was a victim of a cruel and lecherous man in an institution to which she was bound by legal decree. If she stole that money, it was only so that she might feed herself and perhaps find some way of reaching London, far from that brute’s clutches. Be tolerant, Alice, and forgive!”

    “I will, on condition that Connie tells you who took her cherry,” was Alice’s delightful answer.

    “Well, Connie, I’m afraid you’re for it!” I chuckled. “Will you tell me, or must I birch it out of you?”

    With this, going to the corner and taking one of the rods out of the brine bucket, I returned to the two naked young beauties who stood there, so close that the tips of their titties were practically brushing together, and who were shivering and squirming in a most naughtily and lubricious manner. Laying the rod across Connie’s lovely milky hips, I demanded sternly, “The truth, Mrs. Blunt! was it your husband who fucked you or did you take a lover on the side?”

    With this I gave her a playful swish across the middle of her bottomcheeks, and Connie lunged forward against Wilhelmina, grinding her pussy to her maid’s, while she sobbed, “Oh, Jack, please don’t whip me, I’ll tell you, of course I’ll tell you! It was my husband’s secretary… on our wedding night, my poor husband couldn’t have-well, he couldn’t do it at all, and he tried to hard and he nearly had a heart attack then. And he tried several more nights, and wasn’t any use. And I was getting so terribly nervous and embarrassed, that when I went back to bed I stood out in the hall for a minute, and there came his secretary, a very nice young man with black hair and the most courteous manners in the world. And I pretended that my door was locked and I couldn’t get the key out, and he came to help me, and then he took me to bed and-and that’s how it happened, Jack, and that’s the truth!”

    “Why you naughty girl,” Alice giggled, “cheating on your own husband practically the first week of your marriage! Jack, I think that deserves a good bottom-smacking, don’t you?

    “I tell you what,” I now proposed. “We shall let both these charming young women make love to each other, while we chastise them to heat their blood. Not cruelly, but in a way that will excite them. You take Wilhelmina, and I shall content myself very readily with Connie.”

    And thus is was done. As Alice stood behind Wilhelmina Ponsonby and applied her open palm to the lovely young girl’s squirming bottom and as I, my prick growing harder by the moment, smacked Connie Blunt’s delicious and jouncy bottom till she sobbed and groaned and begged me not to hurt her any longer, each of us felt a yearning for the other, while poor Fanny, who had little to do except watch, was stealthily frigging herself, half-turned away from us and standing in a corner.

    Presently it was seen that under my smacks, Connie Blunt began to grind her pussy wildly against her young maid’s, so I called to Alice to redouble her smacks and make the pretty maid share in the fun.

    And this Wilhelmina and Connie Blunt came to a new and more tender understanding of each other, and I had no doubt that henceforth the two of them would be inseparable, as indeed they turned out to be…

    Now finally I must tell you how it came about that Marion and my wife discovered that each of them had had a share of my affections and that I had not fully lost my taste for Alice’s older sister’s charms.

    About a week after Connie and her maid Wilhelmina had gone back to their own special domestic bliss, Marion herself rang our doorbell and appeared in her large hat and elegant frock and cape to call upon us formally as my sister-in-law and to inquire how her dear sister was enjoying the fruits of marriage.

    Fanny made tea for all of us, and served it very demurely. I said nothing, except for an occasional polite comment, for I knew that both sisters had much to talk about.

    Finally I decided to withdraw to find my pipe, and excused myself. Fanny remained, although she sent amorous glances in my direction. The naughty minx was experiencing, it would appear, a little too much discipline from her mistress, who would not of late let her come to my bed or to share our transports or our secret little love-games, and doubtless felt herself neglected, as against the happy days when I was a bachelor and could solace her without too much scolding from her adorable mistress.

    Marion leaned back, glancing at me surreptitiously, as she addressed herself to her sister: “Well, my dear, I sincerely hope that you and Jack are happy. You know that I once stood in the way of such a match, but I can see now from your lovely face that he has been very good to you.”

    “Of course he has, Marion! But don’t tell me that you’ve come here hoping that you were right after all,” Alice said somewhat sarcastically.

    “Of course not, Alice. I can be a good loser too,” Marion said. I frowned at her, because that was exactly the wrong thing to say.

    “Loser?” Alice echoed, then turned to me with a blank expression on her lovely face. “Why, whatever do you mean, Marion? What have you lost?”

    “Nothing,” Marion hastily amended, “what I meant was that apparently I have gained a brother-in-law.”

    “I don’t quite like your use of the word ‘gained,’ my dear sister,” Alice vexedly declared. “Unless you have completely changed your personality, I can’t understand your now being so sweet to Jack, when you always told me that you detested him.”

    “Now, now, my dear,” I thought it best to interpose at this point, “I am sure that Marion has come here in a good forgiving spirit, and I for one am willing to extend to her the hand of friendship and to promise her that she need never fear as to the duration and felicity of our marriage.”

    “That’s exactly it, Jack,” Marion eagerly proffered.

    “I don’t understand all this,” Alice said suspiciously, “but I am beginning to think that each of you is a little too eager to convince me of something that I wasn’t even thinking about. Now then, Marion, exactly what is on your mind? You’ve always told me that Jack was the wrong man for me, and all of a sudden you are so sweet and loving that it positively sickening. I know that you my older sister”-here she pronounced the word “older” in a very disparaging way-“but all the same, give me credit for some intelligence to pick a man who is financially well off and certainly a wonderful and devoted lover.”

    “I’m sure he is,” Marion blushed, which was again the wrong thing for her to do. “I suppose, Alice, I was unhappy because of my divorce, and it was sour grapes that led me to warn you against Jack. Perhaps I was envious. Will you not forgive me and start afresh?”

    “I’m not so sure I want to,” Alice grandiosely declared. “You have always lorded it over me, Marion, and now all of a sudden you come here with the conciliatory tactics of a diplomat. I warrant, Marion, I am at a loss to understand you.”

    “But seeing you here both so happy,” Marion pursued, “I realized how wrong I had been. Perhaps there will be happiness for me with someone else, and then I shall not be so envious.”

    I glanced up at the ceiling, calling upon Providence to solve this dilemma, which was going from bad to worse. Marion had absolutely, to use a vulgar phrase, put her foot into it, and Alice was sharp enough to take her up at once, for my beautiful wife now tartly remarked, “I see! Then by that am I to understand that you were envious of Jack in the past? Now we have it coming out, as the truth always will!”

    “You are misinterpreting me, Alice,” Marion complained.

    “I am doing nothing of the sort, I am just trying to understand what you are trying to say to me. Wait-is it possible that you have discovered a secret passion for my husband of a sudden, and have come here to find out whether perhaps he may not be discontented with me so that you can put in an offer for yourself?” Alice declaimed.

    “Oh, Alice, that’s unworthy of you!” Marion gasped, but she blushed even more violently than ever.

    “You are giving yourself away, Marion, every time you open your mouth!” my lovely wife discerningly remarked, and her voice was on edge, which boded no good for Marion. “There must have been something between you. Wait a bit, just as with that note from Molly Bashe, when I was gone from London, can it be-oh no, it’s unthinkable! Jack, I insist that you say the final word! Have you seen my sister during my absence-before I returned and you asked me so sweetly to be your wife?”

    I looked over at Marion, and I was silent for a moment, which was also my undoing. My Alice had become, from the ingenuous and beautifully rebellious virgin of the Snuggery, a most informed and imaginative instigatress of passion for her own delight. “What are you trying to intimate, Alice?” I hedged.

    “That you and Marion have had a little affair behind my back, you wicked rascal!” Alice exclaimed.

    Well, dear reader, was I to lie at this point and create an eternal suspicion between the two sisters? Or was I to confess what was really not so much a sin as a good deed, for I had restored the pride of her womanhood to my wife’s sister and given her back her self-esteem!

    And this was why I said, “She came to denounce me, and I was fortunate enough to offer her arguments that converted her to an acceptance of me, Alice. That is all you need to know.”

    “To the Snuggery with her,” Alice hissed, and made a sign to Fanny. And both of them seized Marion by the wrists and dragged her from the table where we had all been having tea in such a civilized and decorous manner.

    I followed. What else could I do, except to preside once again as impartial arbiter? Besides, I wished to see, now that the rivalry was unveiled, which of these two beauties should come off the better. But Fanny and Alice finally managed to overcome Marion’s frantic struggles and hoisted her wrists by the pulley ropes and then began to undress her. They drew her gown over her face to blindfold her and to muffle her outcries, they rucked up her chemise, they untied and removed her petticoats, and then they unstrapped her vest and let it fall to expose her beautiful olive-skinned titties. And when at last her drawers came down, and Alice took a feather to her cunt and Fanny a thin birch to those luscious bottomovals, Marion squirmingly and tearfully confessed what had occurred between the two of us.

    Alice turned to me, her eyes sparkling. “Well, sir, what have you to say for yourself?” she demanded.

    “Only, Alice, that I am your husband and that I am the brother-in-law of a very beautiful and delicious girl for whom I wish every happiness,” was my gallant answer.

    “I see, sir,” Alice responded. “Well, Marion, I guess I cannot be too cruel on you because you are my sister, after all. And I really am surprised that you have finally seen the light of day and understood what a wonderful man Jack is. But I’ll tell you this, you’re not going to have him, unless I say so. Instead, you’re going to be smacked by Fanny and then sent back home as a punishment for not having told me all this sooner. Go to it, Fanny.”

    And then, coming to me, my darling wife began to open the buttons of my breeches, to pull out my cock and to fondle it while Fanny smacked Marion’s naked bottom as if she wanted nothing better in the world to do, making Marion wriggle and squirm and lunge forward this way and that, heedless of the fact that she exposed her furry pussy to us all.

    Alice then insisted that I make love to her then and there, standing before Marion to “teach her a good lesson that I’ve got what she’s really always wanted and didn’t dare admit.”

    And thus, dear reader, I achieved the realization of a dream… the dream of a harem. For once Alice had become reconciled to the notion that Marion had actually gone so far as to change from hateful shrew to passionate lover, she determined that she would still hold the upper hand by, as she so delightfully put it, “Taking such good care of your dear cock, Jack, that there won’t be anything left for Marion.”

    And so, summoning Wilhelmina and Connie to our transports, Alice saw to it that I lacked for no husbandly delight. Finally, after about a month, she allowed Marion to visit us, with the stipulation that her sister must undergo a smacking over her own lap, and then make love to Connie Blunt and to Fanny.

    And then, while Marion was gasping under the sweet Lesbian caresses of our vivacious Fanny, Alice drew me down into her waiting arms, and murmured, “If you thought, sir, that because of your naughtiness behind my back I was going to divorce you, I’m afraid I shall disappoint you. Because if I let you go, that naughty sister of mine would latch on to you and keep you away from me, and I’m not going to let that happen.”

    I became the happiest of men. And as it turned out, what little I sacrificed by giving up my freedom as a bachelor in order to wed my beloved Alice, was more than compensated for me through the generosity and indulgence of my lovely wife herself. May you all who read this book be as fortunate as I, but the moral is that you must show respect and pay proper tribute to the goddess Venus, who rules from the heavens and who dispenses love to the worthy and the appreciative!

    Post Scriptum

    Some few months after having penned those last lines in what I had believed to be the final volume of my chronicle of carnal courtship, I came to the conclusion that, just as my labors of love were far from being concluded even though I was a staid benedict, so my literary labors remained not quite fully achieved. For within the short span of six months, I have seen coming to pass not only the realization of my dream of a seraglio, but also the incredible reconciliation of one spiteful sister with another and the two vying in their eager natures to placate each other whilst pleasing me, whom they placed in the regard of a lord and sovereign over them! Moreover, upon due reflection, I felt I must tell you how my sweet wife Alice avenged herself on the Misses Molly Bashe and Julia Denton, and how also the charming young maid Wilhelmina became not only the amorous confidante of dear Connie Blunt, but also at her mistress’s edict came to pay her debt to me in thankful gratitude for my having obtained for her so harmonious a situation.

    Now Alice had, as I look back, all that secretly experienced rancor in her heart against her older sister Marion, for the good reason that since the parents of both delightful damsels had naturally favored Marion as the first-born and then passed to their own reward about a decade ago, Marion has assumed unto herself the status of a kind of superior tutress or governess, as it were. This was why, I have no doubt, she so strictly opposed Alice’s union with me, quite apart from the envious spleen she would naturally bear against Alice’s seeking to find a lover who would satisfy Alice whilst Marion’s own little domestic world was collapsing about her. And so when Alice found herself suddenly in possession of the secret that Marion had somewhat tactlessly let slip in my presence on that occasion to felicitate us, she felt a kind of exultant triumph, which she later explained to me in full detail. And I had recourse once again to marvel at my dear young wife’s remarkable inventiveness and the delightfully rewarding maturity of outlook which she had acquired since our first meetings and which I never would have suspected possible.

    Not, I hasten to tell you, that I regard myself, the male of the species, as inherently wiser and more sagacious, but simply because in the epoch of which I have narrated these amorous festivities, the moralists have piously denounced how shocking it is to enjoy the union between man and maid at all, even under the holy sanctity of marriage, and thus imposed the doctrine-and a scabrous one it is, too! — which holds that a female who derives pleasure from fornication and who so expresses herself in that regard, or shows even in the marriage bed the least enthusiasm for this timeless sport, must needs be little better than a harlot, a vile strumpet, fit only for being lashed at the cart’s tail and pilloried for all the greedy lechers of the populace to stare upon and to lust after, much in the manner of Susannah and the elders. No, I would give credit where credit is owing, and I would applaud here in these lines my wonderfully apt and loving Alice who, from those first days when she tried to vaunt her feminine superiority over me, the mere male mortal, came to this intoxicatingly gratifying advancement of her amorous faculties. One might say that not only did the pupil take a leaf out of the professor’s own book, but verily wrote her own-or at least was inspired by another book to propose her own sweet chronicle of naughty pleasures!

    Following the afternoon which I last related, when Alice gloatingly “punished” her sister Marion for having had to do with me whilst she was a way, my dear wife found occasion to remember the incident of the missive from Molly Bashe which she had found in the pocket of my dressing gown.

    So, about a month after this discovery, which was followed by Marion’s astonishing revelation to her, Alice said to me one morning as we lay abed, sweetly kissing and clipping and dallying while luscious Fanny was dutifully preparing our connubial breakfast which she would serve to us in bed, “Jack, I promised that when I wed you I would be all things to you including wife, of course, but mostly favorite among the ladies.”

    “Why, so you are, my darling,” I murmured as I caressed one swelling round full tittie and gently touched my lips to the rosy bud. “And I tell you frankly that I do not for a moment regret having abandoned my bachelorhood.”

    “But,” she went on quite innocently, “you must understand that now that I am your wife and entitled to a share of your name I am equally entitled to a share of your pleasures, sir. Otherwise it would be too much as if I were simply your favorite slavegirl and not your legal consort.”

    I marveled at the sweet casuistry by which her mind was broadening, and so I remarked, “I will grant you that right, though in advance let me say that I am somewhat mystified as to its meaning.”

    “Then it’s simply this, Jack darling,” replied my beautiful bride. “I too should have the right to plan our little entertainments and not leave all the initiative to you, sir. I am still not sure that I have forgiven you for making up to Marion, though I will admit,” here she giggled and put her hand upon my cock and gave it a fond squeeze, “I would never in all my life have dreamed that my autocratic sister would have so unbent as to permit you the slightest indignity with her person. Why, Jack, when we were very young girls, she was constantly putting on airs and telling me that I must do this and I must do that or else our parents would be greatly vexed with me. Oh, how I really hated her then, and must have all these years without knowing it, until you opened my eyes to what was really the cause of my disturbance.”

    “And what was that, pray tell?” Now my forefinger began to tickle the pink rims of her sweet cunny, and Alice wriggled and squirmed closer toward me, her little palm cupping my cock whilst her soft fingers moved up and down along the shaft as it were the keyboard of a pianoforte.

    “It was that I wanted a man like you,” she blushingly confessed, “a man who would be my lord and master and take me away from Marion’s domination, but at the same time generous enough-as you are, Jack-to grant me the exercise of sweet little prerogatives which make me forget the upper hand which Marion always took over me.”

    “I fear,” I laughingly retorted as my forefinger now entered the sweet portals and found the dainty nodule which was the very threshold of all her deepest emotions, “that I have been a kind of perverse Pygmalion who has brought to life not so much a Galatea but a Circe, an enchantress who has deceived even me by the ruse of her own cunning innocence. Why, then, dear Alice, say what you mean and do what you say, and I shall abet you in all things.”

    And thus I granted unto my delectable spouse the same privileges as I would myself assume, save that, to be sure, I would not allow my fair Alice to entwine her luscious body with that of any other man. And this I told her, to which she laughingly made answer, “So long as you continue with me as you have always done, my very darling Jack, you need have no fear of that. But you will not hold it amiss of me if I tell you of a passion that I have for those of my own sex, like dear Connie and my own sweet Fanny and even naughty Marion.”

    “What? I gasped, “You harbor Sapphic affection for your own sister?

    “And why not, you rogue? She’s very lovely, and you know that yourself. See how your cock grows hard and angrily red at the mere thought of her?” she teased while she squeezed my cock until my juices surged up like the sap in a springtime-budding tree.

    “But now that that is decided between us,” she went on gaily, “I must as your wife stand fast against any danger to our union, which Molly Bashe now appears to present. This little love note which she sent you indicates that she craves a return to the Snuggery, but this time as your adoring and subjugated slave-girl. Well, in a Turkish harem, Jack, the first wife has the power to punish even a lovely favorite, does she not?”

    “To be sure she does!” I said laughingly.

    “Very well!” Alice wriggled away from me, folded her arms across her swelling titties, and tried to look very serious and stern like a magistrate.” Then she shall have her reckoning, but this time with me, sir. Oh, have no fear that I will forbid you any further amusements with that naughty vixen, but only after I have had my own.”

    And so, incredible though it may seem, at the bidding of my imaginative and passionate Alice, I sent off a note to Miss Molly Bashe to be delivered by none other than Fanny herself, asking the delicious brunette to visit me along with her companion Julia Denton, and mendaciously indicating that my wife would be absent in the country for a week and thus we might in our own sweet privacy renew the pleasures we had experienced that afternoon when Molly had shown herself to be a willing loveslave.

    Fanny brought back a note hastily penned, and commented to us that Molly’s mother, the voluptuously opulent Lady Betty Bashe, had gone to Hastings to take the baths in the company of a mature gentleman friend, so that Miss Molly would be quite free to accept my gracious invitation.

    Alice then had Fanny take a carriage to Marion’s dwelling and invite her sister to take part in the frolics which were scheduled for this late afternoon. Marion returned in the same carriage, and both sisters fell into each other’s arms, blushing and kissing as if they were the dearest of friends.

    So the stage was set. I wore only my dressing gown and slippers, while Alice and Fanny and Marion hid themselves in my bedroom to await our guests.

    At the appointed hour, Molly and Julia appeared at my door and were ushered in most ceremoniously. Julia Denton blushed violently as I took her hand and kissed it; and then Molly, slipping an arm around her friend’s waist, giggled, “Oh Jack, you don’t know how long I’ve waited to see you again. It’s been like an eternity since that last wonderful afternoon! And my darling Julia feels the same way, don’t you, pet?”

    Julia blushed and nodded, and I saw her extend a hand to sweet Molly, who squeezed it lovingly while the two young beauties sent each other a glance that could not have been described as other than amorous. My risibilities were greatly tickled, believe me! Yes, it was true! In the Snuggery I had apparently wakened the lascivious appetites of both these fair damsels, so that in the interim between that memorable visit they had both paid me and this hour, they had found consolation in each other, played the delicious games of Lesbos so dear to Bilitis and to the high priestess Sappho!

    “Do you know, sir, that I have received a letter from Arthur and that the rogue has taken himself a bride in India?” Molly advised me. “I am quite cured of him, sir, thanks to you. Oh it is a pity, though, that you are wed now, for Julia and I both wish you could have made a choice between us!”

    “You greedy little minx,” I smilingly chided her, “I thought you had been cured of husband-hunting in my direction when your mother and you first visited my Snuggery. But since I am beyond your grasp, all that I can do is seek out my eligible friends and refer them to you both as candidates for wedlock, and bedlock too!”

    They shamelessly stood side by side, each with an arm around the other’s waist, casting each other cloying glances. If that was the case, I told myself with amusement, they would surely not be averse to the attentions which my spouse, her maid, and her sister longed to pay them.

    After some more meaningless conversation and glass or two of sherry, I finally led them both into the Snuggery.

    “Oh, are you going to tie us both up and be wicked to us?” Molly giggled.

    “This time, I rather think,” I said, “I shall tie you both down, but it is not I who shall be wicked.”

    At this cue, the door of the Snuggery, which I had purposely left ajar, was flung open, and in strode Marion and Alice and Fanny.

    Molly uttered a cry of alarm and turned to me, “Oh, Mr. Jack, you have betrayed us! Have you not said your wife was in the country?”

    “It is true that I did, but you see she must have returned,” I laughingly retorted. Then to my sister-in-law and my wife and her luscious maid I called, “I cede to you the scene of action, fair ladies, though my services are at your disposal.”

    Alice and Fanny fell upon Miss Molly Bashe and dragged her struggling and squealing over to the settee-couch, and in a trice had her spread-eagled on her back and held down by the ingenious pinions with which that piece of furniture was equipped. Marion meanwhile had advanced upon Julia Denton, who actually tried to defend herself by hair-pulling and kicking, but Marion was much too wily and agile for the young lady. Moreover, I came to the rescue to equalize matters.

    Since Julia Denton had fared so well in an upright pose in the Snuggery, we repeated it; in a few moments, her wrists dragged up by the pulley by ropes, her ankles fixed widely apart by means of cords tightened round them which in turn fixed to floor rings, she found herself being consummately stripped by Marion while I stood on with sparkling eyes, enjoying the scene of these two delicious friends about to attest their friendship in the most elemental way.

    Julia Denton was reduced to her drawers, stockings and garters, her pumps being slipped off her feet by Marion, who pinched her toes wickedly and promised her an exacting afternoon. Fanny and Alice meanwhile, using scissors, had shorn off Molly Bashe’s garments until the opulent young brunette squealingly and tearfully found herself reduced to just her vest and stockings and shoes, naked from the midriff down the middle of her ivory thighs.

    Alice turned to me with sparkling eyes and exclaimed, “You may do what you wish to Miss Denton, sir, but Molly is to be mine and Fanny’s!”

    “Oh, save me, Mr. Jack, don’t let them have me, I want you!” Molly squealed.

    “Do you now, darling?” Alice slyly purred. “But you can’t have him, you vixen! I have him by law, and I shall have him by right of possession, too. However, I would not have you visit here without some little gratification for that naughty burning pussy of yours, my girl, so Fanny and I will give you all that you can ask for, and something more, too!”

    Whereupon Alice and Fanny took feathers and began to tickle Molly’s titties and cunt, till the squealing brunette nearly had a paroxysm. Her vest unbuttoned to expose the swollen, darkened tips of her nipples, her face twisted and anguished, her body jerking and spasming as the feathery fronds passed over the lips of her plump cunny and exacerbated the tender buds of her bosom, she was inexorably drawn toward a climax which lacked for her, perhaps, the vigorous penetration which only the male rod can inflict, but which for Fanny and Alice constituted a most delicious entertainment.

    Meanwhile Marion and I were amusing ourselves with Julia Denton. Marion threatened her with a good smacking for being such a naughty wanton. “It’s not, my girl, that I find your desire for Mr. Jack unseemly,” she harangued the victim, “but to flaunt yourself with that Miss Molly in the most simpering way, and to announce to him so shamelessly that the two of you have an amour between you, is most libidinous. Since it is that way, Miss Denton, I shall do my best to chastise you for you naughtiness.”

    She pulled Julia Denton’s drawers down as far as they would go, since her legs were hugely straddled, and then finally cut them off altogether with the shears. All three of these delectable ladies of my household wore only a peignoir and slippers, and now Marion doffed her robe and stood in all her olive-skinned tall statuesque nakedness. Julia Denton turned scarlet and closed her eyes. But my sister-in-law stepped close to her, cupped Julia’s titties with her slim hands and began to grind her pussy amorously against Miss Denton’s mount of Venus, whilst calling to me, “Jack, give her a fine sound thrashing, so she will make love to me!”

    I needed no second invitation. I used the palm of my right hand to spank lovely Miss Julia Denton’s backside as I might a child’s, and her cries and sobs and wriggling twists and lunges made Marion’s avowal all the more telling. Soon I could see, judging from Miss Denton’s gasps and the spasmodic squirmings of her hips and loins, that she was responding to Marion’s tribadistic overtures and completely forgetting the real reason she had come to call upon me this day!

    Meanwhile, over on the settee-couch, Alice had flung herself down atop Miss Molly, emulating her sister with Julia Denton, while under the threat of a good whipping forcing the distracted Molly Bashe to service sweet Fanny with her lips and tongue, Fanny kneeling astride the brunette’s flushed and contorted face.

    Molly was not let up from the couch until Fanny also had tribadistically made love to her while Molly in turn gamahuched sweet Alice. And then it was Marion who went behind Julia Denton while I took over in front and at last gratified the panting and moaning brunette with the staff of life in whose quest she had come to this adventure.

    We paused to have tea, while our two victims, still tied in their bonds, sobbed and moaned but seemed not yet to have been cured for their carnal passions. So at last I freed Miss Julia Denton, and then led her over to the couch and bade her fling herself down upon her dear friend and show us that she had learned in the time since her first visit to my household. And while she fused her mouth to Molly’s and her cunny to that plump sweet crevice whose hymeneal seal I had been first to take, Marion and Alice, now in a joyous liaison of sharing pleasures, took two battledores and proceeded to smack Julia’s bottom, Alice taking the right cheek and my lovely sister-in-law the left. This smacking so stimulated the ardent Julia Denton that she ground herself frantically against Molly in an effort to distract herself from the burning heat in her luscious bottom, and both young women were drawn to several furious climaxes.

    But when they were released, they showed themselves to be good sports enough to blush and giggle over their misfortunes, and for Julia to confide somewhat breathlessly to me that she was now seeing a young gentleman whom she hoped would be as ardent in his manifestations toward her as I had been and taught her to be herself. I could only wish the same happiness for lovely Molly Bashe, whose Gorgon of a mother probably stood in the way of true love; and I advised the blushing Molly to go her own way and to flirt with eligible gentlemen in the hope that she might be able to lure one on her own terms to her legal bed.

    They dressed and bade us farewell, but somehow I had a suspicion that this was not the last we should hear from Molly Bashe and her lovely companion.

    … And now finally, dear reader, I have to tell you of the diverting surprise which my own Alice planned for me just a week ago. It is still so fresh and vivid in my memory that even when Alice and I are aged and infirm, our eyes will sparkle at the thought of it.

    Connie Blunt had been invited to tea, unbeknownst to me, by my lovely spouse, and Wilhelmina had come with her mistress. I had been in the town on an errand, and returned at about four o’clock to hear giggling and whispering in the salon. When I entered, what was my surprise to find lovely Alice and Connie in their peignoirs, surrounding the blushing Wilhelmina whom they had reduced to only her chemise, a long garment which fell over her loins just sufficiently to cover the sweet mound of love. Her long legs were bare and she was not even shod, and she looked like the beggar maid of King Copetua of the legend. Lost in admiration, I stood there gawking till Alice espied me and gasped, “Oh, Connie, he’s come back sooner than we thought, just as we were going to make Wilhelmina walk the plank!”

    “What in the world are you girls talking about?” I exclaimed.

    “Shall we tell him, Alice?” Connie giggled, with an arch glance at me.

    “I think you had best do so, Connie, or you may find yourself back in the Snuggery squirming under the kisses of a birch,” I threatened her.

    “Oh very well, sir, since you take that injured tone,” the lovely golden-haired widow retorted saucily. “Alice and I found the most wonderful book at Mr. Royce’s. He was loath to let us even glance at it but Alice and I insisted, and we told him that we were both married and that our husbands enjoyed the stimulus of a spicy volume.”

    Now I had often visited the shop of Josiah Royce, a venerable old gentleman whose zest for life had not vanished with his mounting years, and I had from time to time obtained certain entertaining works on the theme of love in its manifold and multiple phases and facets. “Pray tell, what book is this?” I demanded.

    “Oh, Jack, it’s the most exciting naughty book ever!” my lovely bride exclaimed as she ran to a tabouret and brought to me a buckram volume, with the title handsomely tooled in gold letters: Walk the Plank, My Beauty! by Jean de la Beque.

    “I vow I had not heard of this title, though I know the author well,” I exclaimed as I leafed through the volume. The line illustrations at once made my blood boil. And the very first illustration I saw explained the title: it was on the deck of a pirate ship, with a long narrow wooden plank thrust out over the side and above the stormy waters. A lovely dark-haired girl, her eyes blindfolded, her wrists tied behind her back, clad only in a short shift and her legs bare, stood on this plank with two bearded pirates below grasping her hips on either side, apparently readying her for her walk into eternity. One saw also the greedy faces of the crew avidly watching the spectacle. I could conjure that this fair maid had been captured on some galleon in the hands of the bloodthirsty pirates and, preferring death to dishonor, was about to walk the plank.

    “It’s magnificent,” I felicitated my wife, “and I am delighted that you found such a treasure. But what surprises me most and delights me too is to find you about to enact a scene from this book. Alice, you continue to surprise me with your inventiveness.”

    “Aren’t you glad now that you didn’t marry Marion? After all, she had a husband once, and lost him, whereas I never had one until you,” Alice smilingly rejoined as she came to me and kissed me hotly on the mouth. “Yes, my love, we were going to blindfold Willy and make her walk the plank.”

    “Because she would not yield?” I laughed.

    “Oh no, because she is going to,” Connie laughingly responded, at which Wilhelmina blushed and gasped and lowered her eyes.

    “It is an anniversary present for you, my love,” Alice whispered into my ear, “Wilhelmina is so grateful that she wants to give herself to you. She is sorry that she can’t bring her virginity, sir, but you know what happened to her at the orphanage. So we are going to make her walk the plank right into your arms.”

    Oh fortunate mortal, he whom the goddess Venus blesses with her divine favors! And briefly I will tell you what this “plank” turned out to be. After blindfolding sweet Willy, Connie and Alice led her like a sacrificial lamb into my bedchamber, where indeed they had laid a wooden plank which ended at the very side of the bed itself, and they made barefooted Willy march along this plank whilst I sat on the edge of the bed with open arms to take her finally into them and to lift her tenderly upon the bed, remove the blindfold and then silence her sweet gasps with a long and passionate kiss.

    But they had yet one final surprise for me. Even as I felt myself thrust into the tight sweet confines of Willy’s cunt, I felt a stinging and yet not unpleasant heat attack my bottom, and when I glanced up, I saw that my wife was playfully switching me with a supple birch, whilst Connie held a battledore.

    So, dear reader, in a sense the tables were at last turned upon me, the conquering male. I who most enjoyed smack-and-whip-fucking was given a taste of my own medicine, but I vow I found it almost as exciting as my own improvisation on the theme!

    And this must conclude my saga. If the years ahead are as exhilarating as these first few months as Alice’s consort, I shall have have nothing to reproach the goddess for. I shall burn a candle to her each day to be spared my virility, so that I may zealously perform in her honor!

  • Chapter 1
  • Chapter 2
  • Chapter 3
  • Chapter 4
  • Chapter 5
  • Chapter 6
  • Chapter 7
  • Chapter 8
  • Chapter 9
  • Chapter 10
  • Chapter 11
  • Chapter 12
  • Chapter 13
  • Chapter 14
  • Chapter 15
  • Chapter 16
  • Chapter 17
  • Chapter 18
  • Chapter 19
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