Pierre le Valle - The Pleasures of Bankruptcy

He was still thinking-still removed from her-and she was still something which must not complain-when he commenced to caress the soft curves of her legs.

Rose stifled a tremulous little cry in his coat collar as his fingers proceeded almost mechanically beneath her silk skirt. Then, with a slowness which aggravated her agitation intensely-with a methodical advance which left her scarlet and breathless, and gave her the sensation of a schoolgirl being 'felt up' for the first time-those searching fingers crept upward from her knee.

To the fraction of an inch she could have told at each instant how near they were to her naked skin. And-the crowning source of an ineffable agitation — she was as truly helpless as a child to resist his invasion. He could do with her as he pleased-treat her as a girlish novice who must afford pasturage on her inexperienced body to his fingers-crumple and handle her charms just as he liked-and she could do nothing to protect the sanctity of her lovely person.

Since confessions from her seemed to be the order of the day. Rose admitted dazedly to herself that this awful treatment to which she was being subjected abounded for her in a series of new and shattering thrills-In the bonds of her nervous shame she clenched her fingers into fists and now she crowded one of them to her mouth to stifle any exclamation which might betray the true state of her hotly inflamed senses.

Yet she jumped and whimpered softly-almost like a child-as that broad palm and searching fingers slipped up from stocking to bare skin. Freeman paid no attention to her faint outcry, for he was fingering lasciviously the satin softness of her lovely thigh.

His hand moved-sometimes upward, causing Rose to sigh and hold her breath at its dangerous proximity to a very delicate and most ineffectively protected region- and sometimes across and around the lovely and naked column of flesh, fondling and subtly caressing it.

Then his fingers passed to the other leg-and there too they stroked and petted, squeezing the soft flesh gently both outside and inside the tender thighs.

Never before had the handsome and healthily passionate Rose Bolton known just this mixture of horrid dread and sensuous anticipation. That the male who held her would spare her the most intimate caresses she had no real belief-and yet she trembled with shame and fear of the instant to come-and then when it came she felt as if she could have reached out her naked sex to him to take and to possess-if that sex had been extendable.

She was in flames-yet smitten with dismay that all her dreams of freedom from masculine desires for the rest of her life should seem to be crashing down about her very bewildered head.

Strangely, she had not thought of the instant when she might be compelled to the final surrender of her body — that she might have to become his mistress in this queer captivity in which she had been entangled by her financial necessities.

It was sufficient for her present degradation and shame — which mystifying appeared to only heighten her erotic excitement-that she must lie here like this… and be “felt all over.”

Ohhh! If it were only over-over before she screamed in his arms… from sheer nervous agitation! If only he would just touch her sex-since such must surely be his ultimate intent… to which he was so lasciviously tending-and then abandon her to try to recover some sort of composure. The very inevitability of this unspeakable contest shook her to the core. To be toyed with thus- like a woman of easy virtue-made her pent up chastity burn and vibrate and convert itself into a madly glowing sensuality…

As the man turned her slightly and ran that agitating hand beneath the edge of her drawers, he lingered the delicate garment for a preliminary instant. She heard a little sigh from his lips-the first sign of agitation which he had given. And the next instant she was quivering from head to foot under the contact of his bare hand with her naked bottom.

“Ohhh!” she gasped involuntarily, as the thrill of his caress possessed her sensitive body.

Ohhh! God! He meant to spare her nothing, then. As she succumbed in trembling dismay to caresses and explorations of her secret body that maddened her-as the entire surface of both her quivering buttocks and the crack between knew the shameful delight of his touches and fingerings… she pictured the face of her young son if he could sea her now, a toy in the powerful hands of this man.

The boy would probably be excited by the sensual display. But she could almost hear his youthful voice saying: “Mother! Is it fair that I was sent away because I loved and wanted your lovely body-when this strange man has you at his mercy and uses his power to handle your body-your beautiful naked body… as he sees and deems fit?”

And now, with an ease that awed her with the latent power it displayed, the man had forced her to a complete extension of her slender body-which strove to curl up in a ball as some slight protection. And his hidden hand slipped down from her bare behind. From the rear his strong fingers now intruded between the legs which they pried apart.

As Rose moaned with shame and tried to close her thighs, he said to her curtly:

“Be quiet, Rose! Don't force me to extreme measures with you. You don't wish to be stripped naked and then spanked… right here in your office-where one of your shop girls may see you, do you?”

She gasped and surrendered. For she realized that he was quite capable of carrying out such a threat, and that she was powerless to resist. Her shame was deadly in its force, and the necessity of protesting no more-but of parting her naked legs humbly for the intrusion of this male hand-increased that shame tenfold.

He fingered her softly between her thighs from the rear — seeking the button which fastened the silken strap of her undergarment. His touch there in her crotch seemed to burn her flesh. Against the inner nudities of her thighs his fingers moved-and the upward pressure of his hand upon her secrecies drove her so distracted that a little choking cry that was half a scream bubbled up from the lips which she had sought to gag by burying them upon his shoulder.

And new he undertook to render her shame the keener, the shaking acceptance of his will the more humiliating. “Ask me to unbutton your undies, Rose…” he said quite nonchalantly.

“Ohh! My God! Mr. Freeman! How can you…? she wailed in dismay-unable to believe her ears.

“Ask me-and this instant-to unbutton your step-ins… between your legs,” he repeated softly. “I shall not speak again-and I give you just ten seconds!”

“I beg of you-this insanity…” faltered Rose. She hid her crimson face on his shoulder.

He made as if to rise from the low chair, carrying her with him.

“Ohh! Don't! For Cod's sake, don't!” wailed Rose in her dismay. “I-please, Mr. Freeman… will you… unbutton my undies-in between my legs?”

She sobbed bitterly in the shame which consumed her. And she buried her face once more on the rough tweed of his coat. Strangely enough, she was not conscious of any real aversion or hatred for the man at the brutality of his treatment of her. All that she felt was a fearful shame and growing agitation, and she burrowed her flaming, finely moulded, distressed features on his shoulder almost like a child.

And there was an additional cause now for her confusion. For an incredible, huge swelling had grown and hardened there beneath her. She gasped — and clung weakly to him-fearing to shift her position so as to avoid that monster just below her hip.

From her slim tones upward she was palpitating at the sensations evoked by that fumbling hand between her thighs. The lone button yielded-and Rose sighed with momentary relief as the torment of those hot, searching fingers ceased.