Anonymous - The Romances Of Blanche La Mare

“I've only been wrong with two men,” I said, pouting.

“Well, your third will be young Mr. Robinson, of the Stock Exchange. I shall charge him ten pounds for you, and give you five of it; whatever you get out of him on the top of that is of course your own affair. Here is the fiver,” and she handed me a note.

“And me?” said Nelly.

“A Mr. Reichardt, likewise of the Stock Exchange, a friend of his, they will be here in a moment.”

But before those worthies arrived, a number of other girls were shown in. Some arrived singly, but more often they came in twos or threes. I reckoned there were about fifteen present before a single trousered animal put in an appearance. They were pretty and beautiful though I knew myself to be, I felt I had plenty of rivals on this occasion. Some were very young-wicked as I was I could not help feeling it rather a shame when I saw girls who could not have been more than fourteen-and I don't suppose one there was more than nineteen. All were pretty, often very extravagantly dressed, and I have never since, despite all the varied experience of my life seen such a delightful assemblage of dainty childish shoulders, plump little girlish arms, well moulded calves, generally displayed to the knee, and slim attractive little waists.

About a dozen men arrived, and we had music-and a good many drinks. Everything was very decorous; Nelly told me that no impropriety went on coram populo, and I flirted in an amiable manner with my Mr. Robinson. An occasional touch of his hand gave me naughty shivers, to say nothing of the frequent discreet comminglings of his trousers with my stockings, and I had begun to wonder when there was going to be any serious by play, when Nelly took me aside “Mrs. Cowper wants me to ask you a favor, Blanche dear,” she said, “It seems there are not quite enough men to go around.

“Shocking mismanagement-!” interrupts Gladys.

“And she doesn't want any of the girls left over.”

“Prudent woman.” the irrepressible typewriter again.

“Wherefore she wants to know whether you and I will go with the same man-it's that old gentleman over there-(pointing to a lean and lanky old sportsman who was doing prodigies with the spirit decanters in a secluded corner, feasting his eyes on the girls at intervals) it'll be another fiver each, she concluded.

I was rather glad. I liked Nelly, and I hadn't much modesty even then. I felt that I should be much less nervous, with her to aid, than alone, so the bargain was struck.

Mrs. Cowper, first giving me the extra fiver, she was extremely business like-sidled us up to our fare; we went with him into another room and had a little stand up supper against a buffet. Then Mrs. Cowper led the conversation round to art, told our old friend that we were art students, said that we were dying to see the Correggio in the pink boudoir, and left him to take us there-it was so tactful and nice.

“But T doubt me not, we shall hear the old buffer got there just the same, as if it had been a farmer's daughter blocked by a country lout in a barn,” said Gladys, “Continue, most elegant and tactful one.”

But the word “barn” puts me off. It reminds me of a story; the story of the couple who were enjoying each other in a loft, when suddenly the loft gave way. Heavily they fell to earth. “Bill” said the fair one below, “Bill, are you hurt?”

“Hurt,” was the reply, “why those is my cock and balls hanging on that nail!”

Our old friend got us into the boudoir in due course, and all the time I was wondering where I had seen his face before. Then I tumbled to the fact that his beard and mustache were false-(I noted that while he was kissing me)-and got it. He was the senior classical master at Rocton, my father's school. At first, came terror that he was likely to recognize me, but I soon saw that he was quite oblivious to my identity-in fact I had changed a bit since he could have seen me last. Then it occurred to me to frighten him-not that any idea of blackmail had ever crossed my mind-no.

“Well, well what did he do?” Gladys again.

He fucked Nelly first-to be blunt; not, I trust, because he didn't think me the nicest, but because it appeared that he had had Nelly before, and was less nervous. There wasn't much art about it at all. I just sat on the edge of the couch and smoked a cigarette while he stripped her naked, kissed her in many places and generally messed her about, till he finally produced a giant weapon, and shoved it up her. The consummation was short. Nelly, seemed frantically randy, wriggled her arse like a tortured soul, and soon had him spending into her for all he was worth.

By that time I, naturally, was naughty too, but I had to wait a bit; that greedy Nelly had got too much, and we had to aid our friend with much manipulation of his person, tickling his balls, stroking of his little stomach, etc., before he had me on the sofa with his lance in me-the rest was easy, and I kept in till the moment I could feel him swelling with rapidity arriving semen, when I said, very quietly, “Whatever would Michael Hunt say if he saw you doing this?”

The man gave one convulsive wriggle, shot about a gallon of fluid into me, then rolled off, pale to the hair roots-“What do you know of Michael Hunt?” he asked.

“Only that you're his senior master at Roc-ton. I know you very well by sight, even if you have a false beard and mustache on. I do hope you've enjoyed this better than to teach at the boys school.”

Now anyone but a fool would have seen the fun of the thing and laughed with us. Nelly told me afterwards he must have known that Mrs. Cowper was a safe enough place, and felt no fear of blackmail-but that silly old thing whacked up fifty pounds for us two to divide, so that we should be mum. I don't say that he didn't have a bit more fun for his money-but fifty is a lot, and I daresay he had paid Mrs. Cowper quite a tidy little sum already.

Still, this is a little by the way, and I must get back to that first day of mine at Madame Karl's.

She took me out to dinner on the first evening of my stay, we went to a small but extremely smart restaurant in the very heart of inermost St. James. Madame knew most of them-the men and women-by sight, and told me their names. She might have been reciting Debrett by the page. When I noted the price of the food, and especially the wine, I was astounded. Madame must assuredly be very rich to afford this.

We did ourselves well, and drank only the oldest vintages, but when the bill was brought she simply signed it on the back and gave the waiter half a crown. A light began to dawn upon me.

“It's like reverting to the old system of barter, isn't it?” said madame with a laugh. “I dress the manager's wife at a reduction, and the manager feeds me. I don't suppose his directors know anything about it.”

As soon as we had appeared to have settled our bill several men whom madame knew crossed the room to speak to us; but she got rid of them all, suggesting to me that we should go to a music hall.

We had a box at the music hall without paying for it. “More barter,” said madame, “that silly little man's wife would never have reached her present position on the stage without the aid of my frocks.”

I began to think that Madame Karl was an exceeding power in the land, and also to doubt whether there wasn't something in the dressmaking business after all. I determined to make myself useful to her. I think I must have created somewhat of a sensation in that hall, for upon the door of our box beat an endless tattoo, and from the stalls necks were craned upwards, and a variety of male humanity studied me through opera glasses. It must have been me, for Madame Karl sat back in the shadow.

I did not enjoy the performance; few women figured among the turns; it was a carnival of comedians and a hymn of praise to vulgarity. The audience roared at the antics of the various little red nosed men who occupied the stage, but the humors of the enterprising lodger, the confiding landlady, and their illicit amours, and the ever recurring Bacchanal drink chant palled most terribly, and I was intensely relieved when madame recognized a friend and signalled to him to come and see us.