Anonymous - Birch in the boudoir

The aim of the dance was to shake free the tiny discs of paper stuck to the youngster's body. At last they began to spiral like autumn leaves from Vanessa's sweet little breasts. Miss Martinet leant forward, took each nipple in turn, and erected it firmly with her skilful tongue. Vanessa rose and began arching and rolling her taut belly at Miss M., offering it to her kisses. By this means she contrived to make the mistress's lips brush her flat and taut abdomen, thus freeing more of the paper discs. Then, leaning far back, the pupil offered her splayed thighs, writhing them seductively to dislodge the red circles pasted between. Miss M.'s finger caressed Vanessa's love-slit until the schoolgirl thighs trembled from quite a different cause.

By squirming her thighs together, Vanessa managed to dislodge most of the discs on their inner surfaces, but those on her cunt itself proved so tenacious. Smiling, Miss Martinet intruded her fingers between Vanessa's squirming adolescent thighs so that her dancing pupil might smooth herself upon them and so free the little paper discs which clung there. With how many soft schoolgirl sighs and gasps were they dislodged!

Her mistress took a towel and rubbed it lightly between the girl's thighs, squeezing Vanessa's love-purse dry in such a manner as to bring her close to orgasm. Now the petite high-school charmer turned. The cheeks of Vanessa's bottom had the pale taut-ness and elasticity of childhood but also the first traces of a woman's more voluptuous fullness. She leant forward a little and writhed her seat-cheeks at Miss Martinet, as if trying to seduce the older woman by this performance.

Miss Martinet was not smiling now. She craned forward a little, lips pressed hard. Vanessa's arse-cheeks surged and parted so innocently. Miss Martinet chose a tawse, a broad lightweight strap, divided into three tails at its end. Vanessa's backside did a desperate jungle dance, but the obstinate red discs of paper still clung.

The mistress used the strap across the bare writhing cheeks of Vanessa's bottom. She caught the youngster on the backs of the thighs as well. Six tunes the leather exploded on the cheeks of Vanessa's fourteen-year-old backside. Twice more on her thighs. She tried to turn 'round, to shield her buttocks, but the strap kissed her flank savagely.

As the last paper disc fluttered down, Vanessa sank to the floor exhausted. Miss Martinet ceased to be the tyrant and became the lover once more. She knelt beside Vanessa, gently stroking the casque of brown hair, comforting and caressing until her fingers slipped at last between the rather ungainly adolescent thighs. Vanessa's sobs became soft, questioning sighs of wonder. Miss Martinet kissed the tears from the eyes of her high-school pupil. With gentle skill, she brought Vanessa to a crescendo for ten or fifteen minutes.

Then I saw a curious thing: to one side of the room was a long curtain, reaching from the ceiling to within an inch or two of the floor. From under the curtain protruded a foot in a black, patent-leather shoe. In front of the concealed figure, whose excitement seemed to come from watching Vanessa, there knelt a young woman whose name was spoken as Julie. I recognised this as belonging to a nineteen-year-old girl in Miss Martinet's possession. Julie was one of those slender young women who make up their height by high heels, and whose thighs are no thicker than a man's upper arm.

Julie is a slut as surely as any girl in the establishment. Through a chink in the curtain I could make out her sulky, sour little face with its rather crude features and dark, hazel eyes. Her blond hair had been braided into a plait and was pinned up in a topknot, revealing her slender little neck. I can imagine how the men who were served by her in the shop where she worked must have coveted her. What would they have said now to see Julie rhythmically and expertly sucking the penis?

As she knelt at her task, her thighs were so slender, and yet the slight backward jut of her hips gave a certain rather childish fatness to the shape of her bottom-cheeks. There was a senile crowing from her lover and Julie was obliged to swallow down her repugnance. Two veined and gnarled old hands held her head close while the old man's sperm-spasm loaded her tongue and he made her gulp it down.

I walked slowly to the front entrance of the house, wondering who the old lecher might be. There, outside the handsome portico, I saw the private carriage of Silas Raven, K.C., in all the majesty of the law.

They had not seen me, of course, and yet I could not bring myself to go in and face the pair at luncheon. Instead, I took a stroll in the pleasant summer gardens above the sea for an hour and then resolved, since the pranks in the stable must be over, to return to my office there.

As I had surmised, the stable was silent and deserted. I wondered where the two grooms might be, and whether they had taken Jackie and Maggie with them. It seemed a day of midsummer madness, when lechery was enthroned in men's minds-and women's too! I remembered that there was a hundred-yard length of chain, stretching down the cliff to a buoy in the shallows, which had to be wound onto the spool of the old mill wheel. The grooms had been told by Miss M. to see it done that afternoon. I went down almost as far as the old miller's grinding wheel, unused for many a day, and stopped short. Nothing I had seen so far on this midsummer day equalled the present spectacle.

The grooms had devised an ingenious scheme for drawing the long chain up the cliff and 'round the grinding wheel, to which one end was already attached. The wheel had a yoke across it, protruding at either side, to which beasts of burden had once been attached. Some means must be found to turn it now, in a heavy two-hour labour. What ingenious fellows they were!

The blond bell shape of Jackie's hair was clearly seen threshing to and fro as she struggled in their grip. But they bent her forward, leather wrist cuffs and collar holding her down on the yoke bar on one side of the wheel. Once she was bent over so tightly and helplessly, they fondled the fattened seat of her bronze-toned riding jeans only briefly before taking those pants right off her and baring her below the waist.

To ensure her arousal, they tightened a strap 'round each of Jackie's thighs and attached to it an ingenious love feather pointing upwards on the inside of her thigh. With every step she took, the tantalising feathers would tickle her cunt, masturbating blond, twenty-five-year-old Jackie irresistibly.

To ensure this, the grooms now massaged Jackie's vaginal slit with warm irritant spice powder. Every teasing tickle of the feathers would be a piercing thrill to her inflamed and itching cunt-pouch. Imagine Jackie, bending with wrists and neck strapped to the yoke bar. Her pale legs are quite long and trim, her bottom rather fatly cheeked in this pose, the tingling cunt-lips clearly visible between her thighs. Jackie's plump, young tits were still quite firm, but as they hung down now they jigged a little as she squirmed. Ah, the young scamp with the spice licked his fingers, dipped them in, and rubbed the virulent itch powder into Jackie's nipples. What a change came over that sullen young face, its blue eyes, hard jaw, and mouth under the fringe of her blond bell shape of hair! Jackie, so off-hand and indifferent in serving men, now cried out to have her tits rubbed and sucked, and the fiery itching soothed by any means her lovers chose!

I was delighted to see that they were still not quite satisfied with her predicament. The groom took a false pony-tail of hair, which matched Jackie's own blond colour. Its base was a leather butt, two inches long, and thick as a thumb. Grinning at the young blonde, he showed her a jar of Vaseline, took a blob on his finger, and smeared it thickly on Jackie's arse-hole! Even so, she gave a gasp as he forced the butt into her anus. The tail was drawn up her buttock-crack, under her belt, and then arched in a charming curve, its ends just sweeping the top of her buttocks.