Anonymous - Julie

How naughty he was!” I have said, but once or twice, to draw her out.

Each time that I have reminded her of that vivid occasion on the grass, she has giggled and snuggled into me, finding in me, I am sure, many of the attributes of a fond Mama (though younger than her own!), or an older sister, or a confidante. NO, I have not tongued her yet, though long to do so and will come to that a little later on with her, I know. I have reaped other rewards, as I am about to tell! You recall the amusing occasion when an Inspector of Schools came to visit? Dear Blanche paid the price for that, though not unwillingly, for she is very sportif! Well-a sequel occurred. Perhaps that wretched man still lurked in the background somewhere in the Department of Education, or had made some ill-advised comment to a colleague.

Whatever the case, within a month of Dorothy's arrival (though that in itself a coincidence and she being very well settled with me by then), another Inspector was announced. I received him haughtily. All the girls scurried to make themselves look “decent,” for since I sometimes let them dress (or undress!) as they wish, you know how they occasionally disport themselves, knowing very well that I will tingle up a few bottoms with my birch! Monsieur Piraud, as the new visitor was called, looked at first as dry and as officious as his predecessor had. He examined my curriculum-the public one, that is, and not the private one which I actually employ-and looked and sniffed all about.

There is no male born, of course, who is not susceptible to the sight of half-uncovered feminine limbs, and of these he saw several pairs on his first, unexpected entrance. I explained that the girls in question had been dancing. “Cavorting?” he had the impudence to counter. “It is not the same word, it does not have the same meaning, Monsieur, and it is not my practise to permit what you have just named,” said I crisply, at which he flushed a little for my tone was suitably sharp. At that moment Dorothy chose to erupt within my drawing room. I do spoil the dear child, I know, and she appeared in all innocence, not having been told that I was, as they say, in conference. She attends only such lessons as I think proper for her at this stage- which is to say French, deportment, the culinary arts, a little fashion, and so on. Consequently the naughty dear had not bothered to dress properly (this being in mid-morning) and wore only her drawers, stockings, a thin chemise, bootees, and a robe somewhat floating overall. To my fond eyes she looked absolutely delicious and quite eatable, showing the most appealing flash of thighs between the legs of her drawers and her stocking tops. “Oh!” she blurted upon seeing the gentleman, for they are rare enough within these walls. She put her finger in her mouth and gazed at him in such a wondrous, childish way (I believe she is old enough by now to know how to “put that on"), that I could hardly suppress a smile. Monsieur Piraud's face flushed at the sight of her- and well it might, for though Dorothy immediately gathered her robe about her, its manner of sheathing her sweet young curves only added to their attraction. “What is your name?” he asked, rising and gazing down at her. “Dorothy, Monsieur,” she replied winningly and gave me a slightly awed but not unexcited look. “And how old are you?” then came from him, he addressing himself to her in English as soon as he had divined her nationality. “I shall be sixteen soon,” Dorothy said winningly and ran then to my chair where I placed my arm about her waist.

The gentleman seemed to want to sit again, but could not bring himself to. He appeared to regard her sternly, though his eyes were not unseeking. The very manner in which Dorothy clutched her robe to her caused her two hands to seem to cup themselves invitingly just below her pussy. “She is, if I may say so, rather young for such an establishment,” said he. “Such an establishment? What do you mean by that, Monsieur?” I asked in bridling tones. No doubt he had made his own mental inventory of what might be my manners and my methods but could not actually put his fingers on them-which was just as well. “Er-that is to say, the other pupils are older. Is she not out of place?” he asked. “That may be your way of thinking, Monsieur, but it is not that of her father, Sir Bertram Mountjoy,” said I, deliberately letting the aristocratic tide drop. This stopped him in his tracks a little, but it was my angelic Dorothy who capped the matter, as you English say, and did so in all innocence-or if she did not is wiser than I know! “What is to do, Aunty?” she asked, and you may well wonder at such exclamation which arose from my sultry nights of cuddling her in bed when I have occasionally teased her and asked, “Am I not as an aunt might be to you?” You see, I have my many methods of psychology! She took thereafter to calling me that occasionally, though never in public before, for I think it would have made her shy to do so before the other girls. Or else, of course, she regarded it as our little secret, as young girls love to do. Whatever the case, the unconsidered appellation spilled out very nicely.

“Aunt?” echoed Monsieur Piraud, looking much put out. “Of course. What did you think?” I replied smoothly. Then, giving Dorothy a fond smack on her pert bottom told her to go and dress immediately and to have her milk. I thought that was a cunning touch, my dear!

This allowed for no more questions on his part, and indeed that which he had raised about her was weak enough. I suspected more and more then some collusion on his part with his predecessor. The latter had perhaps unguardedly said that there was a fine time to be had at my establishment if one knew the ways, but I intend to have no such male migrants coming though my doors. I have my reputation to consider!

I rose. I showed every intention of having him leave. “It is surely the custom, Monsieur, for official visits from your department to be preceded by a letter of intent,” I said. He regarded me stiffly (and, I suspect, defensively) and replied that such was not always necessary. “To common establishments and schools for children,” I said bitingly, “perhaps not, but this is a private college, Monsieur, and I shall require one in future. I shall write to your Minister upon the matter.” At that he swallowed and made towards the door. “It will not be necessary, Madam,” he said. I guided him past the open door of one of the rooms where I knew the girls would be sitting demurely, for they are well versed on such occasions. He could not fail to see how perfectly proper all looked. “Even so, it will put matters in order,” I told him and motioned him somewhat abruptly in the direction of the entrance door. “Yes,” he replied, though totally without conviction. I turned my back on him and walked away, showing him not the courtesy he might otherwise have received. The matter, however, gave me much to think about, for I foresaw a procession of such fellows in the future. Having pondered all possibilities over a glass of fine sherry, I came to a conclusion and called upon Jeannette, a most charming young creature who hails from Lyons where her parents have a fine mansion. She had been then with me for two months and knew my ways, was mischievous in all and thoroughly enjoying herself. It is comparatively rare for me to receive French girls. Most of mind, as you well know, are English. French girls are normally sent to establishments not unlike my own in Germany or elsewhere where the regimes are much stricter and their Mamas or other over-enquiring female relatives cannot too easily reach them. However, as to the subject of my private conversation with Jeannette and the consequences thereof, I must defer my news to next time, which I trust will not annoy you. I have so much to do!