Anonymous - Julie

Your ever-admiring Caroline

Editor's Note:

A week passed before Caroline received the following reply, and one that was entirely in the spirit of what she had hoped to hear.

Ma Chere Caroline,

What a conundrum you set me-or rather Mr. Emmerfield did set us all. You may be sure that first of all I birched naughty Sylvia for her indiscretions-she confessing all that she had written to Alison. The latter, by the way, is utterly charming and proved almost as well prepared for mischief as she might have done even with my tuition. She is comely, slender, and has a perfectly lickable pair of titties, to say nothing of the rondeurs of her derriere. I am sure that this visit proved a tonic for her since she has otherwise been much frustrated by her guardian. Upon my advising Sylvia that her Papa was arriving, she of course threw into quite a dither, for clearly while the dear man vaguely thought of us all as having “jolly times” here, he did not envisage it as clearly as he might have done, and perhaps even wished to pretend to himself that it was a little other than what he thought. Though what he thought I do not know! In any event, he knows now much more than he did and is far from being displeased thereby. “I cannot face him!” flustered Sylvia. As to that, I told her that she might claim to be incommoded and keep to her dormitory, though I did not advise it, for such action would seem suspicious. “What can I then do?” she asked with all seeming motions of despair, it then becoming her moment to confess to me the entire contents of her letter wherein she had mentioned her uncle who of course is her late Mama's brother. What a contretemps! I would if necessary, I told her, endeavour to convince her Papa that many girls in the first flush of desire were given to daydreams of this nature. “Will you be believed?” she asked somewhat pertly, while still wriggling her bottom, which I had but ten minutes before attended to. “As to that, who knows?” I answered, a little put out by her question, I confess, though seeing some merit in it.

“If he does not?” she asked timidly. “Then, my pet, there is no path to follow but the one upon which I have already set your pretty feet,” I told her, which caused her to blush and gaze down into the carpet. “At the worst, my pet, your Papa can only birch you-which you do not now mind overmuch,” I said mischievously. “And at the best, Madam?” Was that a true question, I wondered, or was it that she did not know what to ask. “I have already answered that, my pet,” said I, expecting her (foolhardily!) to blush, but instead she took a set look on her face. “Then I would have to go back,” Sylvia said after a moments contemplation on her part, “And all will be known,” she added quickly. This being a conundrum I could not solve for her, I produced my trump card. “Monica is returning home this week. She might do so in company with your Papa,” I said idly and waited for Sylvia's mind to work as quickly as I hoped it might. Quite obviously she knows Monica, well enough, and many delicious hours have we known!

She is twenty-five, svelte, and supremely erotic when she wishes to be. All this Sylvia also knows for they have played licky-lick at each others pussy several times. Seeing the twinkle in my eye, she laughed.

“Monica will divert Papa, you mean?” Sylvia asked. “More than that, he will know that you know, and that will make you even and so smooth your path completely henceforth when you are back.” Sylvia giggled. “Yes, it will, won't it,” she replied and looked just like a cat does at a bowl of cream. In one fell stroke, as I felt, I had solved the situation, for what Mr. Emmerfield did or said was of no matter to me. What of Alison, you will ask? My dear, I mean to put that matter bluntly. Once having been introduced to her, I summed her up as quickly as you would have done yourself-and intended to have her well-fucked during her brief stay. Sylvia's Papa, having had much time to cast eyes on the girl by then, showed as many signs as men do of imminent desire, but it would not do for her mortar to be put to his pestle only. However, I will come to that in a moment. Upon the arrival of the trio, all was utterly quiet and sedate within the establishment. The surprise of the two gentlemen at this showed on their faces. I diverted Alison by introducing her to Monica-which I felt appropriate to the situation, for they would have much to talk about eventually! This permitted me to entertain the men in my little drawing room. I listened to their tale, read the letter that Sylvia had written, made no immediate comment and poured them each some wine.

It was, I should say, a very particular brew-they not observing that I myself drank from a different bottle! I began then my little speech about the fantasies of young girls. I spoke slowly and bided my time. Even as I did I observed a slightly choleric look on both their faces, for the aphrodisiac that I had mingled in their bottle before their arrival had begun to take effect. Though they took embarrassed pains to try to do so, neither could fully hide the fact that-seated before me as they were-their erections made themselves extremely prominent by thrusting up the fronts of their trousers.

“Gentlemen also entertain fancies about young girls,” I then said, making it evident by the paths of my eyes and my tone of voice that I had missed nothing of their helplessly Priapic display. My little plot having been well planned-and Sylvia herself knew not all the details-a knock sounded and Blanche entered, attired exactly as she had been for M. Delfond some weeks before, which is to say in a diaphanous robe, black stockings, drawers and shoes. Her drawers were perfectly visible through her robe and hence she displayed herself as enticingly as any well-curved maiden might. Upon seeing the gentlemen, she came to a halt and feigned great surprise, stammering out some excuse for interrupting me and feigning not to have known of their presence. In thus pausing, the folds of her robe floated open to her waist, bringing to view even more clearly the lustrous gleaming of her thighs between the puckered legs of her knickers and her ridging stocking tops. “Did you have an urgent message for me, Blanche?”

I enquired and beckoned her forward. She came with seeming timorousness, planting herself (as we had arranged beforehand) between myself and the visitors, so that as she bent to whisper in my ear, so her tightly-sheathed bottom was offered up most prominently to them. I could hear indeed the slightly raucous sound of their breathing above her whispering, which was a mere hissing in my ears, for in truth she had nothing to say. I clutched her arm as she spoke and thus gently kept her luscious young rear facing them. “Very well, Blanche, of course you may,” I then said and let her rise. Most prettily, she then pretended confusion to have the two pairs of male eyes so close upon her most intimate parts. Her titties were entirely naked beneath the gauze of her light covering and so displayed their nipples and surrounding aureoles proudly. She emitted a giggle-one of exactly the right tone-as though to chide them for their “naughtiness.” Her perfume lingered after she had gone. Each turned in his chair to watch her passage, and to watch the slight jiggling of her bottom cheeks, which, though they could not be described as over-large, are of a pleasing size for her age and provide two delicious handfuls.

“You appear hot, gentlemen. It is the climate here. Please do set yourselves at ease. Remove your jackets and cravats,” I murmured, gazing even more directly at their prominences, for each was in a devil of an erotic state by then. “The attire in which you have just seen Blanche is worn purely for physical exercises here. I encourage them. Girls should be supple in the hips, should they not? Sylvia wears such and looks perfectly lovely. So would Alison, were she to stay here,” I added slyly. A greater boldness was about me then, Caroline. Such details as in their hazy state they would remember from the letter would but serve to add to their unexpected state of excitement. In disposing of their jackets, they could no longer conceal their condition. By purposefully eyeing both, I made certain not to conceal my seeming admiration for their virile states.