"A Man with a Maid IV" - читать интересную книгу автора (Anonymous)Chapter 5And 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 fiancй 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 sйance 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. “ 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! |
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