Anonymous

Aphrodizzia

Preface

The story told in these letters was for some years considered too scandalous to be permitted public circulation. In their correspondence, the writers freely describe the seduction and enslavement of a number of young women.

Even now it is quite out of the question to reveal the identities of the two protagonists. To do so would be to create a scandal in the highest echelons of English society. It may still be objected that the demands enforced upon the girls-the ravishings, lesbian seductions, sodomies, and stern flagellations-ought not to be so fully detailed as is the case here. Yet these adventures will be meaningless unless published in full. The pages which follow are not for the prudish or the timorous. In giving them to the light of day, the publisher has bowed to the consideration, as the poet has it, that No thought which ever stirred A human breast should be unheard. 13 Faubourg Montmartre, Paris, France Anonymous Aphrodizzia A Hint to the Reader

The private confessions which you are about to read were the work of a high-spirited lady and gentleman, known to one another as Dolly and Jack. In the course of a single summer each became master or mistress of several lively girls and young women, whose natural lecheries gave every opportunity to our two friends.

You will readily believe me, then, when I tell you that these papers are of a kind usually consigned to the oblivion of the fire. I have been privileged to keep and publish them only on condition that the full names of the two correspondents are not revealed. To this stipulation I must give reluctant consent. I will not detain you a moment longer than necessary from all that follows-the lewd boudoir passions of sly young Elke-the lesbian amours of Petra and Sonja-the bedroom whipping of demure Claudia- the first removal of knickers from young Natasha and Julia by foreign hands! Yet you will relish the tale all the more if I first tell you something of my friends Dolly and Jack, and if I explain how these adventures began. Jack is an English gentleman of education and property, with a wistful eye for a maiden of sixteen. He combines these advantages by offering during the summer months an English education to girls from the continent of Europe. To pursue this hobby he has bought a fine old house, secluded in its own grounds, above a flowery promenade on the coast of Sussex.

My friend Jack remains a bachelor, his dark hair scarcely brushed with grey at the temples. Were you to meet him, you would think him a handsome and vigorous fellow in every department of his life.

Dolly is a blonde beauty of twenty-nine, the widow of a German scholar of great repute, who married her when she was seventeen and left her well provided for three years ago. She still lives not far from the great libraries and university of the Unter den Linden.

Indeed, her charming villa reminds one a little of Jack's, for it overlooks one of the placid and tree-embowered lakes by which Berlin is delightfully surrounded. Now, I have no wish to shock your sensibilities but it is best that I confide to you from the start Dolly's secret passion. Though she did her duty in bed eagerly enough for her older husband, she has always cherished a second romantic passion-for certain members of her own sex. Like Jack, it amuses her to take pupils during the summer months. The English high-school from which they come is not, of course, the common or garden type which that name implies in Germany or Hie United States. It is a private institution, catering for the daughters of the bourgeoisie. A finishing-school in embryo. In addition to one or two of these English nymphs, Dolly is frequently attended by a pair of intense young women, Sonja and Petra, who work for a Berlin photographer. With all her protegees, Dolly knows how to employ loving fingers, amorous tongue, no less than the cane or whip which lie conveniently in the bedroom cupboard. It was last December, when the streets of Paris were bright with coloured lights for the festive season, that Jack and Dolly met again. After an evening at the opera, they were guests during a dinner party at the Cafe de la Paix. They talked the night away and, long after two in the morning, began musing on the summer which lay ahead. Each of my friends has long been aware of the penchants cherished by the other-there is no hypocrisy between them!

Jack offered to superintend the choice of the two adolescent pupils who should be summer guests at the Villa Anna. Dolly smiled and vowed to send Jack a selection of several nymphs who would tax his ingenuity to the full in the cunning and even perverse pleasures to which he would be able to submit them. Two such high-spirited adventurers as Jack and Dolly agreed at once that each must share the other's experiences. They promised, accordingly, that during the summer months they would keep one another fully informed of the extravagant demands they made upon the pretty girls of their “harems,” and the games they played in training these lovely creatures to their whims. To this engagement they remained true. After a month or two, their friend Frederick, Viscount A-,* became a partner in the venture. He it was who provided a charming palm-fringed island, where the dream of a seraglio might become reality. To this delightful haven our friends lured the girls in their charge. In the second part of this volume you will find two or three spirited letters between Lord Frederick and his friends, following their retirement to this secret pleasure-palace. I promise you, that you are the first person outside the charmed circle of three to whom this secret has been revealed. Yet I would not trespass on your courtesy, nor offend your sense of decorum. Perhaps these pages are not for you. Do you recoil from Claudia's startled innocence as her thighs and backside are first laid bare? Do you wince at the extreme and vulgar lewdness of Elke in the hands of her boy-friends? Does the use of the whip on the bare bottoms of pretty girl-pupils strike you as de trop? In that event, I urge you to turn from these pages at once and find a more congenial subject.* Lord Fred is a rising nobleman, owner of a “private plantation,” where modern female slaves of paler hue have replaced their tawny sisters. I have his promise that I may publish his own reminiscences in a few months more, when the present scandal has abated. Yet if you wish to read of men and women as, alas, they too often are, not as they ought to be, then let us follow our young friends into that summer of sunlit beaches and sensuous warmth. Let it be that season of the year, that sunny clime, which is known with a smile as “Aphrodizzia.”

ONE

In which we meet our first two delectable pupils-The prim blonde Natasha-Julia, the lewd little puss with the painted eyes-Their secret longings under demure scholastic uniforms!-Natasha's private pleasures-Julia's furtive randiness with the boys of the town-Our hero arranges the removal of both girls to the private “harem” of Dolly's villa-The game is begun.

Dear Dolly, Faithful to my promise,

I write to tell you of Julia and Natasha. These two parcels of budding beauty and adolescent mischief will await your collection Wednesday evening next from the Anhalter station in Berlin. As I undertook, they are yours for the remainder of the summer and for long after that if our ingenuity is rewarded! As you know, I have taken great care in observing and investigating those elegant young ladies who make up the select and respectable girl-pupils of our acquaintance. Will you approve my choice? I feel sure that you must. Being so inveterate a photographer, I enclose a number of prints taken of these girls in passing, so that you may the more easily recognise them. No less important, I must tell you a little about these two snooty, pert charmers, whose mistress you will soon be. I know you will find them a most piquant contrast to one another. The first gems in the album will show you the younger of the two, Natasha. She is such a smug and self-confident young lady for her age, with the air of one born to be pampered and spoilt. Do you like the way our little blondes hair is fringed at the front and worn in that sweet little chignon at the back? I find it most endearing! But when you look at Natasha's face, you will see at once that she needs firm handling. That fair complexion belongs to such smug and self-indulgent young features.

Those blue eyes and prim looks have the classic poise of English middle-class femininity. Compare the two girls and you will see that Natasha is visibly the younger of the two. I regret that the green jumper covers her cotton blouse, for without it you could judge more accurately the extent of her budding breasts. By the same token, one regrets that the navy blue skirt covers her down to the knees.

From what you can see between its hem and her white ankle-socks, her legs are slim and not yet as rounded as they will soon be. When the skirt is removed, her briefs of tight white cotton will conceal little from you. Then you may judge the tautness and slight underdevelopment of outline in Natasha's bottom and hips. Have no fear, Dolly, our young blonde will “come on” in the next few months like the very best wine! More of Natasha in a moment. First let me say something of Julia, whose pictures appear on the next page. I believe you will find in her a challenge which will excite you to quite unprecedented determination! Julia, you see, is a girl of good family and education, with the means of being pretty. Yet in her adolescent rebellion, she chooses to adopt the crudity and boldness of a streetwalker. See for yourself. You observe that Julia has blue eyes and a soft, high-boned face. Yet the eyes are darkly painted and the pale face itself rouged and made up as if to impose a deliberate hardness upon it. And what can one say of her dark hair? See how close it is cropped, how it is short and tapered down the back of her neck, how its cut strands at the front rise with the spiked look of a cock's comb! Even in her uniform it is evident that Julia is by far the more fully-developed little madam of these two! But turn to the next page of the album, my dear Dolly, and you will see photographic gems which tell you as much about Julia's character as about her figure!

Ah, you can scarcely believe your eyes! Conduct of this kind would never be permitted, you say, in the respectable streets of Berlin!

Let me explain. These pictures were taken during the spring holidays, when the teenage girls like Julia are left to their own devices. Even after school, she would spend several hours loitering in the streets with boys of the most common sort. With no supervision at all, she dressed as you see her here, to keep company with them for days at a time! Now, there is no reason why a girl of her age may not wear riding-jeans and singlet in the right place. But did one ever wear pants of that tightness in the most fashionable streets of such a town? I could not resist following after with my little Kodak, for without such evidence you would swear I had invented the incident!

See the front view! Julia walking along in a row of young ruffians, the hardness of her painted face and the most unfeminine look of her spikily-cropped dark hair. Such a curiosity of human science, Dolly. One knows that there are prim and demure high-school girls whose secret dream of excitement is to imagine themselves as whores or street-women. Such fantasies are often nature's compensation for the strictness of the lives which society forces upon them. In Julia's case, however, it seemed as if she would translate fantasy into reality! You doubt me? Look, then, at the four prints of her rear view, taken as Julia and her boy friends walked away up the slope of the street. Her figure is that of the goose not quite become a swan-and in those tight pants Julia displays it to the world almost as if she were naked! See for yourself. One notices that her thighs are more fleshy and somewhat heavier than Natasha's elfin limbs. And what shall we say of Julia's bottom? The tight seat of her pale blue jeans leave little to the imagination. One can see, for instance, the clear outline of the stretched cotton briefs which she wears under the seat of the straining denim. Observe, too, the softness and weight which-adolescent “puppy fat” gives to Julia's provoking young bottom-cheeks. Does your pulse begin to beat a little faster, Dolly? If so, the cause must surely be the thought of having two such pupils as Natasha and Julia under your absolute command for many months to come! How will you deal with such a wayward and perverse delinquent as. Julia, I wonder? There are two opposite methods. The world at large would recommend a birch-rod and a whipping-stool in a soundproof room. With a girl like Julia no one would blame you if you chose to enforce her regular pilgrimage there once or twice a week. On the other hand there is a softer remedy, your fingers working gently between Julia's legs as she lies gasping and squirming in pleasure with her pants down and the thick dew gathering warmly on the smoothness of her thighs. You and I, my dear, are wiser than the world. We know that with such girls as Julia one need not choose. Both remedies are to be employed without any contradiction arising between them. Despite her rebellious attitude, I do not think that Julia had ever been chastised at school. She may have been smacked at home but I am sure she has never been properly strapped or birched. That being so, what an awakening of many sorts you may have in store for her!

Let me tell you now something of the conduct of the two girls who will become your possessions next Wednesday. Natasha lacks the boldness of Julia. When Julia is at the centre of a group of common lads, Natasha with her prim blond looks will stand on the edge of the crowd in her neat formal uniform and watch uncertainly. She would like to be thought as bold as her friend and yet she has that instinctive reserve of the well brought-up middle class girl. While Julia walks with the leaders of the gang to the house of their lewd rendezvous, Natasha brings up the rear diffidently, and never crosses the threshold. When Julia and her admirers enter and climb the stairs, Natasha turns away and walks homeward with sulky disappointment.

Yet you are not to think from this, Dolly, that our elfin blonde is indifferent to the pangs of love. I have made the most careful inquiries-discreetly, of course!-and have by the happiest chance discovered that a physician of my intimate acquaintance attends the family. They consulted him about Natasha's conduct, having accidentally spied upon the girl when she thought herself alone.

Natasha is in the habit of returning home quietly in the afternoon and slipping up to her room. Being old enough now, she is permitted to be there unattended. As if wrestling with temptation, she stands before the dressing-table mirror and contemplates her image.

Her fingers comb the fringe of her blond hair moodily or she strokes the little chignon against her neck, relishing its silken smoothness on her skin. Then she studies her own pouting sulkiness in the glass until her mind is quite made up. Because she is not permitted to lock herself in- sensible precaution-Natasha has to proceed with care.

She must undress as little as possible for her sacrifice to Venus, knowing she may have to put herself to rights at the first creak of a footstep outside the door. She lies on the bed, wearing her white ankle-socks and flat shoes, as well as the green jumper, white blouse, and striped tie of her costume. Even her navy blue skirt and white stretched briefs must remain on, though she adjusts them at will.

Lying over the counterpane, able to see her reflection in the mirror if she chooses, Natasha pulls her navy-blue skirt right up.

When she was first observed, Natasha masturbated by fondling and squeezing her pussy-flesh through the thin cotton of her knickers.

However, the aftermath was a pair of disagreeably dampened panties which might have to be worn for some time before a pretext for their renewal could be presented. Therefore, as Natasha worked her navy-blue skirt up over her prim young hips, so she eased her white briefs down until they formed a tangle round the slim fair-skinned thighs of adolescence. What a charmingly naive picture she made in the mirror! There was the rather sulky young face with its blue eyes and blond fringe, the hair drawn back with pretty severity into its saucy tail. In the narrow loins below the flat taut belly the first fair moss of the pubic bush appeared. Natasha's trim, high bottom-cheeks had the innocent and tremulous pallor of budding maidenhood. You may be well assured, Dolly, that our young pupil blushed a little to see herself so fully exposed in the glass, even though she thought herself secure from all eyes but her own! And yet, though the little charmer blushed, she could not quite draw away her gaze from the sly fascination of her own body. Settling her head on the pillow and closing her eyes, for all the world as if preparing to sleep, Natasha would allow her mischievous right hand to fondle its way down her firm, flat belly to the archway of all delights. Her fingers touched and explored those coral lips, her knees pressing together and her slim pale legs trembling a little at the sensations which her own fondling provoked. Despite her inexperience, Natasha must cram the corner of the pillow to her mouth to quieten those little sounds which might betray her, if heard beyond the door. Yet for all her care she cannot quieten the rude windy noises from her cunt which such excitement and lubrication soon engender. Natasha masturbates in this manner for as long as possible, sometimes delaying the climax of her joy for an hour. Often she attains the summit of bliss but not always. Pity this poor pupil when a footfall on the stairs or landing obliges her to scramble from the bed, hastily pulling up her panties and tugging her skirt down. By the time that a stern parental gaze surveys the room, Natasha sits at the table, head bowed over her homework, the top of a pencil between her lips as she worries it studiously with her pretty little teeth. Are there any signs which might betray her? Has she remembered to straighten out the counterpane of the bed in her hasty flight from it? As the paternal lips kiss the charmingly uncovered little ear or the side of the bare neck, is there perhaps the faintest mineral odour of feminine arousal?

It would take a stricter observation to confirm such suspicions. An immediate inspection of the state of Natasha's warm little knickers, perhaps. Happily for her, dire draconian measures are a little beyond paternal authority in such cases. From maternal inquisitiveness she has much more to fear! I may tell you in confidence, Dolly, that it was a casual moment of self-indulgence at school which happily revealed Natasha's secret masturbation to my acquaintance. Believing herself to be alone in the girls' washroom she could not resist a little performance, standing before the mirror with her skirt rucked up and her hand inside her panties. Little did she know that the dragon who guards the maidens-the stem head mistress herself!-stood unobserved by a partition. Imagine the woman's delight! On no account would Natasha allow news of her misbehaviour to reach her parents. Naturally there was but one alternative. The girl was ordered to wait there while the “dragonness” went to her lair! The mistress returned bearing the dreaded punishment-strap, a strip of thin leather, eighteen inches long and two inches wide, split into three tails at its end. Presently our prim young blonde was bending to touch her toes, naked from the hem of the green jumper at her waist to the white ankle socks on her feet. The milk-white cheeks of Natasha's bottom, so pert yet demure in their emergent femininity, were fondled by the mistress's own hands. Then the tiled walls rang to twenty strokes of the smarting leather across Natasha's backside-four more added when she dared to straighten up in floods of tears and beg for a respite. That evening the bedroom mirror reflected those demure maidenly buttocks again. But this time they were printed with the broad scarlet paths of the strap, which had scarcely faded by bedtime.

For the next week, by daily inspection of her own rear, Natasha was able to watch the gradual fading of several expertly inflicted bruises on the cheeks of her prim little arse! Have no fear, my dear Dolly, the education of Natasha will prove a truly rewarding experience for you! Let me say something of Julia. There is a curious paradox in England, a propos the upbringing of young ladies. A “good” girl like Natasha gets the strap for a comparative peccadillo.

Now, Julia is an adolescent whore by any standard. Yet she gets no such penalty. It is as if parents and teachers are prepared to thrash and reprimand England's daughters, so long as their sexual offences are slight. But once the girl gives herself up to promiscuity, the stern moralists cease to scold and put away their scourges. To witness Natasha's youthful enjoyments, you would have to spy upon her closely. Julia, though but a few months the elder, performs her lewdnesses in the public view-when that view includes the darker corners of streets and courtyards. Yet no birch-rod waits in pickle for her arrival home. They have, you see, given her up. Her reputation is gone and neither high-school teachers nor her family care beyond that. Observe what hypocrisy is indulged by “respectable” society in England! It is not the conduct of the girl but only her reputation which concerns her elders. As the rules demand, Julia must appear before her betters in the same school uniform as Natasha-the decorous skirt, the blouse and striped tie, the ankle socks and flat shoes.

With the boys who accompany her on other occasions she will flaunt herself in the tightest riding-jeans or-given the chance, no doubt-in leopardskin tights! As if to advertise her character, even under the supervision of female moralists she adopts this hardened manner, the cropping of her dark hair to its short, spiky appearance with its close tapered cut on her nape-for all the world like a labourer's boy rather than a middle-class miss. You would not wonder at Julia's preference for short singlet and tight jeans if I told you of how easily the boys' hands may fondle her close to the skin. I do not suppose a girl feels much if she is fondled through a dress and several petticoats. But if you could see Julia and a pair of boys in a dark doorway or the arch of an alley-way, you would understand. To fondle her between the legs, or to handle the soft weight of Julia's bottom-cheeks through thin denim is almost to feel her as if she were naked. Indeed, there is no doubt that the tight denim pants must rub her up a little as she walks! There again, as a boy glues his mouth to Julia's in a long kiss, pressing her in the corner of the archway after dark, how easily he may slip a hand into the waistband of her pants. And you may be sure that while his fingers play between her legs or part the cool cheeks of Julia's arse, the girl's hand has already opened his fly and is manualising his erection in return.

I do not know if her virginity has yet been impaled on the stout lance of male pleasure-nor indeed if Julia's arsehole has been breeched. Yet she is certainly adept in masturbating the boys of her acquaintance with a ready hand and leaving the seed of future generations spilt in the nooks and arches of the town! Even as she sits at her desk in close company with girls of reputation and refinement, you would recognise her at once for what she is. If you doubt me still, let me tell you of a glimpse I had, the first which opened my eyes in this case. Julia lounged under a railway arch in the embrace of some happy young ruffian. His pale erection was stiff in her hand and his own fingers were busy inside her pants. Now, I confess, in those circumstances I should want to take Julia somewhere private and do all manner of things to her-some of which even she could not guess at! In the singlet and riding-jeans, she looked quite a young woman and not a lumpish high-school girl. Julia's cunt was no doubt yielding copiously into her young swains hand. Yet even to take her pants down was impossible in such a place, when the bulls-eye lantern of a policeman might swing into view at any moment.

Did our hardened young heroine with the darkened eyes and rouged cheeks merely desire novelty? Or was she determined to have closer acquaintance with the penis? Whatever the cause, she offered little resistance when the boy pressed on her shoulders, pushing her to her knees before him. He held her head gently between his hands. Julia's mouth opened a little, still hesitant, but enough to admit the penis-head between her lips. Holding her head more firmly, he began to move his hips in an energetic rhythm. Did Julia suck him actively-or did he merely employ her mouth as a necessary receptacle?

Once or twice she made a faint gagging sound in her throat, which suggested that neither of them was expert in the matter. At last he came in her mouth, still holding her close and urging her not to waste a drop of such precious balm but to swallow it all down. At that moment a second lad-there were five in all!-came from the shadows and took his place. Julia uttered a muffled plaint as her mouth was filled once more by a stout truncheon of flesh. When all five had finished with her, they left her on her own, lying curled on the ground, as if entranced by the memory of what she had just been made to do! How I envy you two such pupils, Dolly! The maiden of bashful sixteen is the stuff of legend. Will these two charming girls-so different in their characters-be so bashful at sixteen after your care of them? I can scarcely wait to hear! Do not forget that I shall inform you also of every detail relating to the pretty frauleins who arrive here next week to spend the summer under this roof! Jack.

TWO

The Villa Anna-Preparations for the arrival of the two English adolescents-Dolly's menage-Sonja and Petra, the two Berlinese “bitches” of the villa's mistress-Their lesbian amour-Restless nights in the bedroom's luxury- The arrival of Julia and Natasha-A charming encounter of innocence and experience-Sobs and sighs.

My dearest Jack, I shall treasure your last letter more than any other you have sent me. What promise! What pleasures lie in store for us during the summer months! I feel almost like Thackeray who thought that a plum bun was so delicious that its anticipation was more exquisite than its consumption. But you, my dear, have promised a pair of plum buns-so delightful individually and so exciting in contrast. Ah, yet wait till you see how I repay you.

By this time on Friday you will have four delightful pupils under your roof, thanks to my influence. All are between the ages of fifteen and eighteen. You will recognise them from the enclosed photographs as Katharine, Claudia, Elke, and Helena. Indeed, if my further plans are successful, you may also have an opportunity to introduce the intricacies of the English tongue to such olive-skinned belles of Italy as Daniela and Valeria-not to mention Agnetha, Milena, and certain other blonde beauties. But now to our present drama. I write this letter a little after midnight when the villa is quiet and the girls sleeping. Julia and Natasha arrived this evening in the care of a dour-looking duenna who departs again tomorrow morning. Then I shall have the two new pupils to myself! Yet I have not been idle while awaiting them. Indeed, they will soon make the acquaintance of two young women whom I may almost regard as my slaves. If the Isle of Lesbos had boasted a seraglio, Sonja and Petra would surely have been among its treasures! They are not yet wholly mine but I propose to take possession of them completely in a little while. If you would understand the fate I nave in mind for our two pupils, I must begin by revealing to you something of Sonja and Petra. Were you to enter a certain photographer's establishment in a shopping boulevard of this city, you would find these two young goddesses waiting to attend you. Sonja is the elder, at twenty-two years old.

She has some experience of sharing a husband's or a lover's bed-we do not inquire closely into the couple's marital status. What more charming sight than to see Sonja walking on a summer evening near the Savigny-Platz? She has a lithe suntanned body, seen to advantage in her light pink blouse, brief turquoise skirt and white ankle-boots.

There is a gamine quality in her trimly muscled calves, as much as in the crop of her medium brown curls, her roundish sun-warmed face and blue eyes. You may be sure that as she walks along the Kant-Strasse or the Kurfursten-Damm in her easy strides, many a camera takes Sonja's picture-bare legs and cheeky manner-for a private collection. If Sonja is the dominant girl of the pair, Petra may seem to be the submissive one. Yet you would not think so by her off-hand and dismissive manner towards many of the male customers! She too is undoubtedly a charming contrast-as Natasha proves to be to Julia.

Petra is a slim lithe girl, eighteen years old, with flaxen hair fringed on her forehead and sometimes worn loose to her shoulders, sometimes tied in an untidy tail. Her face has a fine fair skin with the bloom of health on her cheeks, while her expression combines innocence with a certain surliness of manner. Her features are perhaps more crudely prominent than Sonja's pertness, which is sometimes the way with the daughters of the German proletariat. Both girls give an impression of lissom energy, their firm trim-made legs moving with bare suntanned grace below the hems of their little summer skirts. I promise you, Jack, many a gentleman who chances to peep into that shop sighs wistfully at the thought of having Sonja and Petra under his absolute command. What bedroom scenes fill his thoughts-and to what little purpose! The truth is that Sonja and Petra yearn for each other's bodies more strongly than for Apollo himself. Yet two such charming young lesbians are always in peril in a city like this.

Sonja, indeed, had a regular ration of penis between her legs when she was a few years younger. Though she wears no wedding-ring, perhaps she was even obliged to submit her cunt and arse to the demands of the marriage-bed. Imagine the eagerness with which these two girls accepted my offer of protection here at the villa! They put themselves entirely in my charge and I am a frequent spectator of their billing and cooing. Neither of them dreamt of such luxury and sensual indulgence. A day hence and the photographer will see them no more.

Knowing me as you do, Jack, you will guess that my intentions towards Sonja and Petra are not entirely honourable! The Villa Anna will soon be their sumptuous prison where they lie bound by the soft threads of amorous desire. If a certain type of man-a person of wealth and firmness-should take a fancy to the pair, I will have Sonja and Petra broken to his demands without further ado. While Petra's flaxen hair threshes like wheat in a storm, her knees shall be held apart for her initiation. Then she shall be turned over, a smack on the slim curve of Petra's bottom to make her relax its cheeks for a proper admiration of what lies between them. Such dramas are in the future. Perhaps they will never be enacted, though I should feel a natural disappointment in that case. At present my plan is more direct and simple. Though I must not let my own part in the affair be seen too soon, it is my intention that the two young German women shall lure your pair of pert little girls into the most heavily perfumed flower-paths which the gardens of depravity have to offer! I propose that by the end of the summer, our elfin blonde, Natasha, shall experience pleasures so perverse that the mention of them would bring a blush even to the cheek of a young wife fresh from her weeks of honeymoon passion! With this in mind, I determined to put Sonja and Petra themselves to the test on the night preceding the arrival of the two English girls. It was a beautiful summer evening, the late sunlight still lingering in a warm dusty glow over the gardens of the villa where they run to the lake shore. The ornamental urns and the birch trees cast their distended shadows on the gold radiance, though it was almost ten o'clock. The two young women share a bedroom-and a spacious bed-luxuriously appointed. Its balcony, in the Italian manner, overlooks the placid waters with a view to the trees and the Crown Prince's castle on the far side of the lake. They are well-used to my presence in the room as they prepare for bed. Indeed, they accept that the playing of certain amorous games is part of the gratitude they are to show me for their safety and comfort here.

We went up together to the bedroom with its walls panelled in pink silk, the damask cover of the wide bed, the mirrors which conveniently reflected that arena of pleasure, and the eight bright bulbs of the electrolier which illuminated its languors. Dinner had ended an hour before, the servants having cleared away and gone to bed in their own part of the building. The two girls were dressed informally, as they had been when they left work for the last time.

Sonja matched her brown tan and cropped dark curls with the pink blouse, the little white ankle-boots, and the short turquoise skirt which left bare the brown, agile form of her calves. Petra was more simply attired in her white blouse and a plain short skirt of blue denim. Picture me, then, as ring-mistress with these two charming performers in the ring. The long curtains were drawn across to hide our enjoyments from prying eyes. Then each girl undid her skirt and blouse, removing both garments and hanging them neatly in their places. They stood before me, each clad in nothing but a skimpy white breast-halter and matching briefs of white cotton web, stretched tight over hips, loins and seat. “I must put you to bed, my pets,” I said, taking no care to conceal my amusement in this game. “Lie on the bed dressed just as you are. Sonja, lie with your head towards this end and Petra, my child, lie with your head towards the other. You shall sleep head-to-tail tonight-if you find any leisure to sleep at all!” They obeyed without any real sign of reluctance. Sonja put her knee on the bed and climbed over to her side. She settled the shock of her dark curls at the centre and stretched out her bare limbs which are brown as a gypsy's after so much sun. Petra followed more bashfully, first putting her hands behind her head and forming a collar-length pony-tail of her lank flaxen hair which she secured with an ordinary rubber band. Eighteen-year-old Petra arranged herself so that she lay facing Sonja, head-to-tail. The posture kept each girl's face level with her friend's hips. To complete this charming ensemble I enforced a degree of amorous bondage upon them, Round each girl's waist is a light gold chain, its ends welded so that it cannot be removed. About each pretty neck I now clipped a broad leather collar from which ran another twelve inches or so of chain.

This I locked round the shapely partners waist. So our pretty pair were condemned to pass the night in their present suggestive manner, each pillowing her head on the others nips or backside. Each girl's field of vision was almost filled by the charming prospect presented by the other's hips, backside, and upper thighs. Though still wearing their white stretch-briefs, each was obliged to present herself to the face of the other in an appealing upwards squat!

Under the level fringe of her blond hair, Petra's face coloured a little as I took the waistband of her briefs and drew them down to the mid-point of her slim lightly suntanned thighs. I did not remove the briefs altogether, jack, for there is something more provocative about a girl like Petra with her panties down round her thighs than with her lower body entirely naked. Under the occasional rudeness of her manner in the shop, one finds a true sense of vulnerable innocence in Petra's blue-green eyes. She was self-consciously aware that even the more roughly-used and easily-blemished part of her knickers was under Sonja's immediate gaze. Sonja's round gypsy-brown face looked at me with blue eyes expecting the same treatment. I smiled at this.

“You shall keep your pants on for the moment, Sonja. Content yourself with enjoying your view of Petra!” Indeed, the collar-chain which attached her to the gold links round the young blonde's bare waist gave Sonja no chance to turn from her contemplation. Her cheek rested on the taut slimness of Petra's upper thigh. Her eyes confronted the younger girl's trim nymph-like buttocks, and of course the lips of the cunt between her legs with their stray tendrils of fair hair. On these occasions, Jack, when I am in full command of my two slaves, I am as strict in one respect as any English prude. I do not allow either Sonja or Petra to masturbate. Their hands are fastened so that each may play with the other but not with herself. So now a leather cuff went round each wrist and a light chain from each attached it to the other girl's waist again. There was no limit to what one girl's mouth or fingers might perform upon the other's sensitive part. Yet neither girl could reach far enough to gratify herself. Had I been in a wicked mood, Jack, I should have arranged matters a little differently. Having mixed a strong aphrodisiac in the dinner coffee I would have had them trussed in this posture but with their wrists strapped behind their backs and their collar-leads holding them back from even the lightest kiss. Then each girl must have itched for relief and seen the other's beauties of hips and thighs before her eyes, while having no power to ease the erotic anguish of herself or her companion. I promise you, dearest, that my plans for Petra and Sonja include such a restless night of amorous torment. Yet this was not to be the occasion of it.

I watched them for a little while as they lay waiting on the bed.

I had determined to see if it was possible to light Sonja's “fuse” and by so doing cause the “explosion” of love in Petra without ever touching her myself. I sat at the middle of the bed, stroking Petra's blonde fringe as she pillowed her fair-skinned beauty on the fuller curve of Sonja's brown thigh. Her view of Sonja was rather as if Petra had been looking up at the open seat of a chair on which the young woman sat. Though Sonja's white briefs still moulded the “landscape,” the rear opening of her thighs was but four or five inches from Petra's blue-green eyes. The firmly-rounded cheeks of Sonja's bottom were clearly and separately presented in the fight cotton-as was the soft bulge of her pussy-flesh between her legs.

Gazing down the length of her own body towards me, Sonja's blue eyes looked wonderingly from her pert brown face with its shock of dark curls. I smiled at her, holding her questioning gaze as I gave a light pinch to the soft pussy-flesh through the cotton gusset of the panties. A quick tremor of her body was followed by the young woman straining her hips back to open her rear access more fully. Using the back opening of her thighs, so that Petra would see everything, I began to masturbate Sonja gently through the stretched cotton web of her white panties. “You're well used to this, my dear,” I murmured to her as I stroked and squeezed lightly, “You like to play with yourself, Sonja, don't you? Yes, you do. You like it very much!

Petra, my innocent child, watch closely! There's a good girl! See how my fingers find the slit in Sonja's cunt and rub up and down it through the cotton knickers?… Is that nice, Sonja? Is it? Let your lubrication begin to come. You needn't be bashful about moistening your briefs. I'm sure it's happened before when you've been played with… You like watching Sonja masturbated, Petra? Do you? See how she needs it!… Can you feel how you're wetting yourself, Sonja? I must show Petra your juice on my fingers. Oh, you little innocent, Petra! Don't try to turn your face away… Very well, then, I must hold you by your little tail of hair and make you breathe in the scent of Sonja's arousal!” Sonja's fuse, having smouldered for so long, now burst into flame.-When I held my fingers still she rode her hips to and fro on them, frantic for the rubbing between her legs.

“I'm sure some lucky man had fun with you, Sonja! What a juicy ride! Ah, some more on to my fingers then!… Now you shall wait while I ease it off on the back of your thigh… But you must be more passionate than this before we take down your panties, Sonja!” I had scarcely spoken these words when Petra gave a startled but grateful little cry. Sonja, frantic to do as she was done by, had buried her face in the rear of the blonde's slim thighs and was kissing Petra's fair-haired cunt-lips hungrily. How many times, I wonder, had she done this in reality or fantasy behind the photographer's studio? “Do it better than that, Sonja!” I said with mock severity, “Otherwise I shall give you a smacked bottom and no more fun! Tickle Petra's clitoris with your tongue! Properly! Then you may tongue-diddle her if you wish.” When the tongue-tip touched her sensitive little clitoris, eighteen-year-old Petra was the most quivering, half-hysterical nymph. She shrieked as if in the most atrocious torment-a sure proof of the near alliance of pleasure and pain in the human sensibility. I stroked her lank fair hair reassuringly. “Don't hold back, Petra, my sweet! Scream in your joy, if you wish! There is no shame in that-only a great release!”

Petra's sharp, spasmodic cries fell presently to a gentle moaning of pleasure. The window curtains stirred a little in the warm night-breeze across the lake. I held the fingers, which were slippery from Sonja's cunt, to Petra's lips. She first kissed, then licked them gently. I still refused to let her take down Sonja's briefs, curious to see what the blonde nymph would do. With a shudder of longing, Petra leant forward and applied her pouting kiss to the warm wetness of the cotton, where it clung to the softness of Sonja's vaginal lips.

Later I intervened, drawing Petra's head back by the flaxen pony-tail and taking down Sonja's panties to mid-thigh. In Sonja's case, her plump little cunt is mossed by dark hair. At twenty-two years old her bum-cheeks have the round sauciness of womanhood, contrasting with the pale ovals of Petra's demure buttocks! The two girls mouthed and tongued one another between the legs, each trying to stroke the curls or pony-tail of the beloved who gave her such joy.

In a moment more, Sonja's spasm was almost upon her. With a sudden sound in her throat, her dark curls jerked and I saw her face, her lips drawn back over bared teeth like one in a fit. I wanted, of course, to make her abandon herself completely at this moment. Sonja's twenty-two-year-old arsehole was visible between her buttocks. I took the vaseline jar and spread a dollop of the grease on her anus. Her dark curls were twisting to and fro, her cheeky suntanned face agonised in the spasm of coming orgasm. I took the smooth metal tube which once held a large Corona cigar and slid its rounded end into Sonja's behind. I held it with several inches inside her and the rest protruding. My other hand worked expertly at her cunt-lips. “I want you to come with your arsehole held open, Sonja,” I said gently.

And so she did, reaching her climax with a wild cry that was midway between a scream and a snarl! Gently I drew the tube from her arse, wiped her between the cheeks with paper from the roll by the bed, and dropped the paper on the floor. But Sonja had hidden her face in the silk cover now and was sobbing as if with shame at the exhibition she had made of herself. It was, of course, only the natural anticlimax which follows such ecstasy. I touched her hot and slippery cunt and began to stroke again gently. Her sobs broke out anew, as if she hated this! Yet Sonja would climax a dozen times before dawn broke, for I had decided upon that. Presently the sobs ceased, the first yearning sighs began softly once more, and her brown tanned hips moved gently in time to my fingers as I masturbated her. Then I gave her to Petra to suck. The eighteen-year-old blonde had her own “happy time”-the first of several on that restless night!-ten minutes later.

It was almost dawn when I left them, still fastened head-to-tail in the same manner and still playing with each other like a pair of charming and lascivious kittens! When I entered next morning, they were sleeping exhausted in their posture. Each girl's panties were still in a tangle round the middle of her thighs and she presented her bare hips in their upwards squat to her partner. How long had their loving continued? From telltale smears, it was evident that the wicked cigar tube had entered Petra's backside as well as Sonja's and that their cunts had yielded several more libations after my departure. To spare the silk cover of the bed, they had torn paper from the roll and wiped each other's love-juice. The scattered sheets of paper on the floor showed the evidence of this, as well as wiping off of vaseline from between Sonja's buttocks-and between Petra's nymphlike bum-cheeks too. They were drowsy and drugged by pleasure when they woke. Desire became a lethargy and they would not have chosen to leave the villa, even had this been permitted. They curled up together on the bed like two young animals in their contentment as I went to the Anhalter Bahnhof to meet Julia and Natasha. Have I not done well in making my arrangements for their stay here? Ah, my own Jack, as soon as I set eyes on those two delightful pupils, I knew that you had been as good as your word. Prim little Natasha at fourteen with her blond chignon, and Julia with her sullen looks and cropped comb of dark hair! I swear that if means can be found, they must not return to England. There are masters in the world who would pay handsomely for such a pair of slave-girls! What a waste to permit them two or three years more of sitting at a classroom desk.

By now, dear Jack, I hope my own “presents” to you will have arrived, even if you have not yet had the chance to unwrap them completely! Claudia at fifteen is charming, is she not? Her companion Katharine is rather a plump blond slut at seventeen. Elke is a young puss who merits close observation. Of the four, it is Helena who adopts the most haughty and self-possessed mien. Yet you would be surprised how easily those blue eyes can be made to look so apprehensively and with such dismay upon her fate. But I tell you things which you will guess for yourself as soon as you set eyes upon them. I await your first account of the girls with great expectation.

In a week at the most, I hope to have news for you of how Natasha and Julia have taken to the life of my sapphic “harem!” Your loving Dolly.

THREE

The arrival of several German beauties at Pineboume- Katharine and Claudia-A-voluptuous Rhinemaiden and a gamine nymph-Jack's first adventure with them-The master incognito-Katharine and Claudia in racy bathing-costumes-Jack's surreptitious photographs of the pair on the beach-A perfect pretext for undressing and chastising the two lovely girls. Dearest Dolly, Will you ever believe what I have to tell you now? At the very moment when I was expecting the arrival of the girls from Germany, Austria, low countries and Nordic wastes, I was called away to Town. My broker, who has for years thought Consols a good enough resting place for my funds, favoured a switch to the gold mines of the Rand. But as the price of those shares was about to rise, so he was told, we must act in short order. There was nothing for it but to leave the establishment here in the hands of my duenna and absent myself two whole days. On my return I thought it advisable to take a good look at the girls before allowing them to see me. I find this prudent, as a means of judging their conduct and characters without allowing them to know the identity of the “stranger” before whom they perform. How right I was to do this-and what an adventure it has led me into. I promise you I had no hope that our sport would begin so soon. Let me tell you all about it. On the afternoon following my return, I chose to make a reconnaissance of the beach, taking with me my Kodak which I always use on these occasions.

The girls had done their morning lessons with the duenna, Miss Leach, and had now been dismissed to the pleasures of the sea shore. I knew their appearances well enough from having peeped through the window at them during their studies, and so was easily able to recognise each.

July has brought perfect summer weather to the Sussex coast. The turf is warm on the downlands where the scattered flocks of sheep graze and the gorse is in yellow bloom. Sunlight glints on the calm waters of the English Channel and the band plays on the pier whose iron spider-legs extend into the breakers and shallows. Just now it is low tide in the afternoons, which is more agreeable. You may easily imagine how crowded the beach becomes with holiday folk from the grand hotels and humbler boarding-houses, not to mention those trippers from London whom the trains bring down for the day. The upper part of the beach between the wooden groins consists of pebble or shingle. Further down, where this slope ends, it is flat sand, which is covered when the tide is in. Yet when the rim of the sea is but a distant glitter, the broad expanse of damp sand is a capital place to walk or play-far below the crowded shingle. I walked along there, amused by the shouts and laughter of English girlhood wading and splashing in the shallows of low tide. From the bathing station to the pier and on to the edge of town, the beach was crowded with such pretty creatures. Here I caught only the faintest sounds of traffic where the grand hotels and flower gardens of the esplanade stood high above the wavelets. Such was my state of mind and the view before me, when I came upon the most delightful and seducing? sight of the entire afternoon. Far down on the beach, where the damp sand was no more than twenty feet from the ripple of the slack tide, I saw half a dozen of my German nymphs. They were cavorting almost naked in the most enticing manner. It was innocent enough, I suppose, and yet I began to think at once of the opportunities their “scandalous” conduct offered me. Two of them I recognised at once. Katharine, the plump and tall Rhinemaiden of seventeen with her sun-toasted flesh and the gently waved blond tresses brushing her shoulders. And Claudia, the nymph of fifteen with her crop of light brown hair and the heart-shaped beauty of her young face. What were they doing? All were dressed in the skimpiest fashion which only the healthy innocence of German culture would permit. They wore the “Roman” bathing suits which consist of a little breast-halter and pants which are tight as they are brief. Surely these were made for the privacy of the baths and not for a public display? However, one girl was sitting at the centre of the circle, while the others sat on their heels facing her. With shrill teenage laughter they scooped up the wet sand and began to pile it against her legs and hips, burying their laughing victim to the waist. I moved unobtrusively towards them, knowing how indignant I must later pretend to be at their display of themselves in breast-halters and briefs. The cap was off the lens of the camera and I was ready to begin. I chose Katharine first, in order to make a photographic record of her “depravity,” against which she could not argue. Picture the scene. Katharine must either accept the punishment allotted or else the sporty photographs of her arse and tits, almost naked, must be despatched to her sorrowing parents.

So there she sat on her heels, the blond tresses brushing loose on her sun-browned shoulders. The light blue eyes, strong features, the golden-tanned back and thighs of this softly voluptuous German Venus were a pleasure to behold. The girls were so busy with their game that they did not notice me at all. I pretended to be looking through the viewfinder in order to take photographs of the pier which was close by. Yet each time, as the shutter clicked, it was Katharine's image which filled the frame. You will think me boastful, Dolly, but I took such full and perfect portraits of her face, laughing and pensive, as an artist might envy. And then, of course, the girls had just been bathing in the sea. Katharine's costume was made of thin russet brown cotton. It clung like a second skin to her soft damp body. The detailed photographs of her plump young breasts showed every curve and line through the wet costume. It was clearly visible in the prints that the cold sea had erected her nipples in the most wanton yet provoking fashion! Having taken the first set I squatted down, some half dozen feet behind Katharine as she knelt, and pretended once again to be puzzling with the workings of the camera. How one might adore the bare sheen of the girl's sun-browned and sand-dusted back! Those strong young legs and fleshy hips! When you see the photographs you will notice that she wears a gold slave chain round her left ankle. For which lucky lad in Cologne is that kept? Katharine is so soft-hipped that the elastic waistband of her briefs dents the flesh quite deeply. Imagine then, how fully she fills her skimpy pants! My chance came a moment later. In order to pile the wet sand against the victim, each girl had to lift her hips from her heels and go forward on all fours. When Katharine did so, I thought my prick would fairly burst open my trousers. The damp cotton of the brown briefs clung to the fat-cheeked view of Katharine's bottom! Did ever a girl offer herself like this except to her lover in their honeymoon passion? Twice-and thrice-the shutter clicked while she was in this posture, our blonde Rhinemaiden's backside and bare thighs filling the entire plate! To speak plainly, Katharine is not to every man's taste. Yet for those who like a modern Rubenesque beauty, athletic and sun-browned, she is a perfect object of amusement. I felt a surge of delight, aware that I now had enough evidence of her scandalous public display to require a private and intimate encounter between us! In a short while, Dolly, you shall be the possessor of a set of these full-plate prints!

Imagine how you might cover the wall of your study with a display of such provoking postures-as I have already done! At this point the girls ended their game and went back up to the pebbles where their clothes and towels had been left. My attention now turned to fifteen-year-old Claudia-and with good reason. By contrast with the plump charms of Katharine, Claudia has that beauty which most appeals to me-the perfection of the nymph. The first photographs show the allure of her lively eyes and trim features, the perfection of a face whose proportions run from wider cheekbones to a firm round chin. I know you must share my admiration of her prettily tousled brown hair, curling over her forehead, its thickness cut short at her nape.

At her present stage of development, Claudia's figure has the elasticity and resilience of youth. Yet though she has not quite blossomed into full femininity, the lines of womanliness are already visible in her adolescent form. Of the two girls, she would be my choice and I shall be most reluctant to see her return to her grammar school in Dusseldorf! I was walking across the pebbles, no more than ten feet behind the girls, when Claudia knelt down to smooth out the towel upon which she was going to lie. My view of her, as she sat on her heels in the elastic tightness of her emerald green briefs and breast-halter, was breath-stopping. Her young shoulders, back, and legs are more lightly sun-tanned than Katharine's. Moreover, Claudia still displays a narrow-waisted elegance, the delicate bone-pattern of her spine prettily contoured. Yet like so many German girls, Claudia already has that softness of hips which may lead to fatness in ten years time. The dampness of the briefs made them fit like skin over her flanks and arse-halves, the elastic waist denting her nubile skin a little. I had taken one or two portraits of this view when Claudia raised herself and knelt forward on all fours. What a delicious sight she offered, Dolly! How could any warm-blooded man not want to feel her under his hands and loins? She knelt with her bare knees apart a little, the cheeks of her backside, rounded and broadened in a most womanly manner. Yet once again, it was the soft pussy-flesh between the thighs, so clearly moulded by the damp green briefs, which caught one's attention first. I was able to take several close-up photographs of this view in which the details have come out with astonishing clarity. The bare soles of her feet are pretty enough to kiss, nor should one hesitate to nuzzle them. Following her thighs to their tops there is such a sweet plumpness of their inner surfaces just before her legs join. I propose to kiss and tongue-tickle her there this summer, Dolly, to taste the sea upon the young flesh and to savour the mineral tang of Claudia's own body. And who could possibly allow the adolescent cheeks of Claudia's bottom such useless labour as sitting on the bench of the Dusseldorf academy? Had she been my slave, Dolly, and this the beach of my seraglio-as Don Juan found one-I should have detained her in this pose while I took out my prick and inserted it up the leg of her briefs to begin its voyage of exploration. You and I, my dear friend, know the means whereby such girls may be spirited away to a secure house-there to serve the pleasures of its master. You will not, I venture, find such a place in Eastbourne or Brighton. Yet I urge you, Dolly, to see if some such fate may not be arranged for Claudia. I grant you she is a demure young lady as yet, but that ought not to save her from such a delightful bondage. A whipping across her bottom from time to time would not only add to her owner's amusement. By obliging Claudia to submit, it will infallibly increase her own pleasures. Do, my dear Dolly, see if something of this sort cannot be arranged in her case!

In a little while, she and Katharine got up and ran down to the incoming tide, splashing into it and getting up to all sorts of healthy frolics. As they came back and walked up the beach to where I chanced to be standing, it was only natural that I should aim the camera and take several more shots of these two playful girls. As she noticed this, a shadow of doubt and dismay crossed Katharine's face.

She turned to Claudia and they stood together, talking in a solemn and subdued manner with many a glance in my direction. They had not the least idea that I was the director of the establishment they attended-an amorous tyrant whom they had yet to meet! Presently, Claudia came up to me, with Katharine walking at a little distance behind. Although Claudia is the younger, she is already more proficient in the English tongue. “Excuse me,” she said, a little uncertain in her charmingly Germanic English, “I think you have been taking photographs of us. No?” I laughed hugely at this. “A man who takes scenes of the beach will necessarily take pictures of those who are upon it,” I said, “But why should that concern you-unless you were engaged in some dishonest or indecent conduct?”

It seemed to relieve them a little that they were not the sole target of the camera. “Ah,” I said, as if trying to clear up a misunderstanding, “Do you mean that you would like me to take a photograph of you? You think I am a professional photographer, perhaps?”

Imagine, Dolly, the penalties attached to such a crime-asking strange men to photograph them half-naked!

However, they conferred together once more and then politely declined the offer. I regretted this but decided to try another tactic. “Tell me your names,” I asked, for though knowing them already, I thought of what must be done to a girl naughty enough to give her name to a strange man. Who knows what use some unscrupulous fellow might make of it? These two polite and eager young frauleins thought of no such thing. “My name is Katharine,” said our blonde Rhine-maiden, “I am coming from Cologne. I have seven years English in the grammar school.” Such frankness made me feel that, perhaps, my subterfuge was less than honourable. But now the nymph with the cropped and tousled hair piped up. “My name is Claudia. I am coming from Dusseldorf. I have five years English in the grammar school.” With that they made their polite farewells and went back up the beach. It was already growing cooler and Claudia was obliged to put on a black velveteen singlet to cover the upper half of her body. My pulse was beating faster with the thought of the pleasures which the evening would afford me. I began to make my way back to the house in order to prepare for them, thinking of your other “gifts” to me! At the tennis-court I saw the Swedish girl, Helena, as she emerged and began to walk back along the same road ten yards in front of me. She was dressed for the game, in no more than a white singlet and olive-green pants. My camera, dear Dolly, is so much an extension of my body that, before I thought of what I was doing, I raised it and began to take photographs of the slim blonde whose bare sunkissed legs twinkled ahead of me. She looked back once, saw the lens and heard the shutter click, then scampered onwards as fast as her slim shapely legs would carry her. So it was that I came to the end of a busy and rewarding afternoon. Katharine, Claudia, even Helena and indeed Elke, were now to be mine to deal with as I chose. I will not act the hypocrite, Dolly. The prospect of taking down the knickers of all four girls and caning their rounded bottoms was one which I thought of with stiffening excitement. Yet I hoped that such discipline would be the side-dish rather than the main course. How was I to accomplish my true feat of arms? How to thread Helena's pure young cunt or gratify Claudia's nymphlike backside? Have no doubt, Dolly, that I intended no less than these things and was determined upon them-if I must flee the country in consequence. A standing prick, they say, knows no conscience-and nor did I. Yet a man who will win such prizes must plot well for them. If I rushed matters that evening, I might gain no more than the lesser amusement of thrashing a few charming backsides. By restraining my passion for day or two at most, I might have pleasure enough to last me all summer.

So for that evening I contented myself with the housemaid Sian, she of the soft fair-skinned face, the dark eyes, and the russet tresses which cluster to her collar. At twenty-one there is such a pouting petulance to the little red mouth-yet she knows her place. Did you ever see her in tight drawers or working-trousers and bodice? Sian is not fat and yet there is a delicious pale softness to her bubbies and arse-cheeks. Many a passing gentleman who spied her through the window in such a costume would find his gaze detained. I summoned her to my bedroom at ten, ordering her to wear the blouse and denim working-jeans in which her figure is best revealed. I kept her at tasks which involved her either kneeling so that her bubbies brushed my knees as I sat in the chair, or else in having her back to me and bending to some chore which offered the taut round cheeks of Sian's bottom. I asked her if she would like to earn two sovereigns. As usual, Sian's pouting little lips made a moue of protest but she nodded. I reached for the short leather riding-switch on the table and tapped the carpet at my feet. “Then kneel here, Sian, and do what you must.” She obeyed, kneeling, opening my fly, and taking the bone-hard penis in her mouth. Sian is a girl of the lower orders, adept in sucking the street-boys with whom she once mixed. As her red hair spilt about my loins and her mouth sucked the tip of my knob maddeningly, I several times had to restrain her. Sian wanted to draw the venom from me and earn her two sovereigns quickly. On the other hand, I was determined not to let her spoil the game. I wished her mouth to labour, her loins to toil and even to make Sian's bottom, work hard for its share of the spoils! Her pants came off, Sian's knickers discarded in the basket. She lay on her side, knees drawn up a little, and played with herself until the lubrication of her cunt began. Taking this on her fingers, she moistened my knob with it several times. Rough in my passion, I turned her on her back, held her knees apart, and entered the hot velvet passage between her legs.

I rode my young filly in this manner for some while, pausing to prolong the enjoyment. Then I said, “Turn over and offer your young arse, Sian!” She turned on her belly but there was a tension in her body which would not let her open fully. I held her round the waist and gave a dozen ringing smacks on each cheek of Sian's bottom. Then her arse-entrance yielded and I enjoyed a second gallop. Drawing back at last, I knelt over her and obliged Sian to take the monstrous serpent and suck its venom from it. By these precautions, I was able to ease my own randiness and plan more carefully the drama I had in mind for the young nymphs of Germany and Austria. I believe, Dolly, when you read the next act of the comedy, you will understand that I was wise in my choice.

FOUR