Anonymous - Birch in the boudoir

With an eye to a good profit, the inspector once again dressed Sally as a young slut of the streets, in her black, waist-length jerkin and the tight, pale-blue denim of her working trousers. The harem owner murmured approvingly. He said he liked young hoydens of fourteen or so who challenged him by disobedience. Such ill-bred defiance was plain in Sal's broad and high-boned face, dark eyes, and shock of fair hair. He spoke eagerly of sturdy little hips and firm thighs. Had she been trained by sport and exercise?

Perhaps she struggled a little as the two valets held her by either arm and his hand ran under the gusset of jeans cloth. Was Sal a virgin? The inspector could not claim that, but he hastily assured the harem master that it had only been boys of Sal's own age. In the passageways of the town, Sal would also suck the penis of older men in exchange for cigarettes.

The harem buyer did not seem unduly displeased to learn of her experience in such a craft. Seduced by the swagger of Sal's fat little bottom as she walked, he required the valets next to turn and bend the young strumpet. He inquired if the virginity of Sal's young arse had been taken. The inspector vouched it had not. The harem buyer thus became master of all three girls and was left alone with them, assisted by the two valets.

"Away with your skirts and pants, my three houris! Excellent! Mandy-on the bed and make love to yourself! Tracy-join her! Sally, bottom upwards over the pillows, if you please. Why, the top of your head scarcely reaches a man's shoulder, and yet how many you have made to lust after you, Sal, as you walked through the streets, rolling your fat little bottom-cheeks in working jeans!"

At his command the valets tightened the wrist straps on his young mistress. "How often have you made respectable husbands follow you, Sally? How often have cameras clicked upon your face and your rear view to add gems to their private collections? Why, you even intrude into the marriage bed, I dare-say! As they do their duty to their wives, their minds are elsewhere. They dream of taking you down to the county wine vaults or the monks' rendezvous in the old churchyard. They dream of such fucking, even of buggering Sal's fat little bottom at thirteen or fourteen years old!"

There was a pause and then he continued more breathlessly. "Absurd to refuse me your rear virginity, Sally! Your attempt merely earns you a reprimand afterwards! Were you so haughty with the yokel boys who kept your company in the merchant's passage? Bite the pillow, Sally, to give you greater endurance! Ah, how copiously I shall spend my seed on this hot, infertile soil!" Ten minutes later, his furious cries confirmed that he had pumped his lust into Sal's backside, where no unwanted progeny is engendered.

"Now, Sally," he murmured, "there is one other joy which the men who admired you in the streets would have relished. It requires this whip with the lash of woven snakeskin. Karim, my fine fellow! Teach the young slut a lesson! Let me see the cheeks of Sal's bottom resemble a pair of skinned tomatoes!"

The sounds that rose from Sally, though a vulgar young strumpet, can well be imagined. As it happened, I had a rendezvous with Maggie in my own cabin just then. It was the last before she, too, was sold to the highest bidder at the auction block. The Captain and the inspector, however, were privileged to spy through the crack of the door where Sally sprawled on her belly over the divan.

There were many, worthy citizens of the elegant city who would have wished such a loud-mouthed young slut punished. Karim did not disappoint them, I was assured. By the time he had visited the fat, squirming little cheeks of Sal's bottom with his lash, she could not have endured sitting on the lightest feather cushion without a cry! The Captain and the inspector watched, mouths open with amazement and delight at Sally's shrill descant. There was much satisfaction that such a master should have purchased her.

Thus we came safe ashore this morning, my dearest Lizzie. I was not sorry to part with the Captain and the inspector, for their vindictiveness towards the rebels among the girls suits ill my own more softly lascivious tastes. However, who can say that young Sally did not need some whipping of the kind? As for Noreen, I had no compunction over the "scolding" which the Captain, with his leisurely Havana, had administered to her strapping young seat!

In a day or two the last of our business will be done. Events make it impossible that I should return to England, even were I so inclined. All my thoughts now turn towards you. Be sure, my love, that the final journey between us shall be accomplished with the minimum of delay by your own adoring

Charlie

My very own Charles,

I write at once to tell you of a most remarkable spectacle, which is continuing even as I pen these words. It is an "experimental lecture," performed on the person of an attractive young Englishwoman, in front of an invited audience. Dr. Jacobus, a crony of the Pasha, is to demonstrate the sexual anatomy and functions of this young wife.

Two days ago the Pasha mentioned it to me. An examination table was to be set out under bright lights on a dais in the walled courtyard. Twenty of his friends, connoisseurs of the female body and owners of private harems, would dine with him. After dinner they would adjourn to the outdoor "lecture theatre," where the learned Dr. Jacobus would illustrate every form of sexual enjoyment which the young woman could offer. It was expected that the lecture would continue long after midnight.

"But, surely," I objected, "no woman would consent unless she were a slave and was given no choice? Yet, if she were a slave, her master would scarcely abandon her to such a purpose?"

"True," smiled the Pasha, "however, in Lesley's case, she has just lost her freedom but has not yet been sold by the trader. She is thus the ideal subject for the good Dr. Jacobus."

My curiosity was afire! I was determined, if possible, to be one of the learned audience at the experimental lecture! It was, for obvious reasons, confined to men of great trust who would not regret anything that Lesley might undergo.

How well our cunning Pasha guessed my intention, Charlie! I slipped into the courtyard while they were at dinner and inspected the arrangements. The large marble table was on the dais, a cupboard of accessories standing behind it. The seats rose slightly in three tiers, curved to give each occupant a perfect view, no more than ten feet from the demonstration table. To speak the truth, my dearest, they were more old-fashioned sedan chairs than seats, each having tall, curtained sides so that no spectator could see another. During her ordeal, of course, Lesley would be able to see them all. Why such privacy? In each booth was a girl to minister to the occupant's needs as the lecture provoked them.

Mathematics was never your strong point, my beloved. Yet think. Twenty spectators and twenty-one seats! Were I seen at this demonstration, what a scandal there must be! So, our thoughtful Pasha had provided an extra place for my concealment. I moved to the empty booth at the end of the first row and took my perch.

Who was the slave girl in the next seat? I could not help furtively peeking through the curtaining enough to peep. Behold, it was Patrizia, the eighteen-year-old Italian bride. She is short and sturdy as a tomboy of sixteen, dark-brown hair worn straight to her collar and parted on her forehead, like a medieval page. Such olive-skinned appeal, wide cheekbones under dark eyes, and a firm line to mouth and jaw!

Now the Pasha and his guests came out into the courtyard, he directing them away from the booth which concealed me. "That is set aside, gentlemen! The rest are at your disposal!"