Anonymous - Augustus and Lady Maude

But since you had lost her anyway, I believe it excited you a good deal to see her tanned and enjoyed by the men. In all this philosophy of yours towards her, I see you about to emerge as the man of sense and reason. Do let us hope so. Mr. Bowler paid us a brief visit here the other day on his way back to England. You know he has hired a grouse moor for the shooting in August-land in Kinross belonging to the Dowager Lady Lockie. In order to have everything prepared for his guests on the Glorious Twelfth when the first birds are slaughtered, it was necessary for him to return. I shall expect good reports of you from him. In your new frame of mind, I am sure you will want to hear of an amusing little adventure which occurred as Mr. Bowler was passing through. It relates to our little nymph Marit, the Scandinavian girl-student, who seems lovelier every day. I do not deceive myself in this at all. Though she is only fifteen as yet, Marit will be a calm and perfect beauty in a few years more. Her lightly suntanned face has the smoothest, the most velvety peachlike softness you could imagine. I see such perfection of shape as well, rather the form of a shield or a heart. Her nose is so pretty and short, her mouth full and beautiful but with the most elegant lips. You never saw blue eyes so open and steady, nor such silken tresses of brown hair worn just over her collar. I have maintained my system of requiring Marit to bend through the hatch for inspection each morning and evening. Even if it were not strictly necessary in the interests of morality, how could one resist the chance to pull down Marit's silky knickers and survey her narrow adolescent thighs, her slim hips and the almost elfin trimness of her bottom-cheeks? Sometimes I prefer that Miss Jones should carry out the investigation and sometimes I reserve Marit's charms for my own fondling and stroking. During the few days of Mr. Bowler's presence at the Villa Lola, I saw no reason to alter this arrangement.

I had mentioned something of it to him but, of course, he acted like a man of honour and respectability. Such dealings with Marit, he assured me, were women's work. As a worthy landowner or magistrate in England, as a most successful man of commerce, he entirely approved such moral supervision of our Norwegian beauty but it would be unseemly for him to take part in it. Matters remained like this until the evening before his departure. It was after dinner, at about nine o'clock, with the last rippling light of day fading from the lake, when young Marit bent herself as usual through the hatchway and its partition was lowered upon her back. The weather was so balmy, the eucalyptus and thyme so fragrant, that I had decided to take a stroll along the garden path under the pergola which enjoys a view across the lake towards Malcesine. A million fireflies danced in the warm twilight of the Gardonese, while the cicadas rasped among the flowers and shrubs.

I had deputed Miss Jones to deal with Marit. You may be sure that our almond-eyed young wriggler was only too glad of the chance to fondle another girl's nest instead of being always busy with her own!

Having walked almost out of sight, I became aware of Mr. Bowler's voice for he was talking to Miss Jones, having intercepted her before she reached the house. I moved closer and heard him inform her that no inspection of Marit need be carried out that evening. As master of the Villa Lola, and as Miss Jones's employer, his decision was absolute.

Miss Jones went off to play with herself somewhere nearby, for she gets a perverse thrill from doing it where the lads of the town may spy upon her and yearn in vain to supplant her busy fingers with something of their own! I thought that, since Mr. Bowler had decided to spare Marit her examination for that night, I had best go back and release the girl from her vigil at the hatchway. I had just reached the two windows, looking into the rooms on either side of the hatch, when I saw that Mr. Bowler had got there first. The rooms are almost at the level of cellars. Yet as the ground slopes away towards the lake, there are windows on one side, set high in their walls but only at the level of one's knees if one stands in the garden. Because of this and the darkness, it never occurred to Mr. Bowler that anyone might be looking upon him just then. Unlike you, Gussie, I had no idea in advance of watching our friend secretly. Indeed, I was about to tap at the window to draw his attention when I saw Mr. Bowler walk up behind Marit and fondle the tight denim-seat on her trim buttocks with undisguised affection. Before you censure him, dear cousin, consider the situation in which Mr. Bowler found himself. He was to leave for England by express train the next morning and whatever he did now would never be rumoured against him. Marit herself would never be able to say who the man was standing behind her, for the hatch was locked across her back and there was no way in which she could see.

In other words, Mr. Bowler might do whatever he wished, secure in the knowledge that he would be safe from the law, from scandal and even from the possibility of accusation by the nymph herself. All that must have counted as a strong persuasive. Then consider the temptation which Marit herself presented, though it was an innocent one on her part. The tight pants of washed pale blue denim shaped those narrow and almost fragile-looking thighs delectably. The rightly rounded elfin cheeks of Marit's bottom were parted by her posture and the rear way between her thighs was easily accessible. To undo her at the waist and take her pants down would be the work of a moment. Mr.

Bowler smiled to himself. He went back and bolted the door on the inside to prevent interruptions. Very gently he undid her and pulled the denim pants down and off. With her slim-legged look and narrow hips, the briefest panties were enough to cover Marit's most important areas. Mr. Bowler pulled them down and made her step out of them. He tucked them in his pocket and I believe they are destined for that formidable collection kept by Joshua Snook, our worthy neighbour and a most venerable justice of the bench. If so, Marit's knickers may prove to be the most diminutive of many pairs in his desk. Perhaps they will suggest her shape and character to the old gentleman as the larger cotton briefs remind him of his whipping of the fuller-cheeked bottoms of Pauline Cox or Kim Roberts at nineteen or twenty. Now Mr. Bowler paused to inspect the charms before him. His hands examined the young nymph's slim bare legs, for Marit's thighs are hardly thicker than the upper arm of a well-built coal-heaver or labouring man. Mr. Bowler's hand smoothed reassuringly up and down her agile flanks, then fondled the resilient young cheeks of Marit's bottom. He seemed almost content with her, but not quite. A brief stroking between her legs caused him to “tut-tut” and shake his head at the evident lascivious-ness of which she had been found guilty. There was nothing for it now but the severest reprimand. Indeed, how could this worthy justice, this pillar of England's moral establishment do other than what he did? Mr. Bowler went to fetch the school spanking-strap. This device is cut from supple leather, being about two inches broad and eighteen inches long, divided into three flat tails at one end. Marit, of course, could see nothing of what he was doing, yet she must have guessed by the long pause that something of the sort lay in store for her. As she waited I shifted my position a little so that I looked through the next window which showed me her face and the upper part of her body through the hatchway. She is a beauty, Augustus! A real Venus in the making! I make no apology for descanting again on the calm loveliness of the smooth young face, the pretty little nose and that most delightful mouth with its fine young teeth. She twisted her head a little as Mr. Bowler felt her teasingly between her slender thighs and the brown tresses fell this way and that about her collar. Yet beauty at fifteen needs a regular spanking! So our friend-worthy gentleman that he is!-swung the heavy strap to and fro a little as he contemplated the bending nymph in all her nude desirability. Then he raised the tawse and smacked it down with passionate force upon the slim little cheeks of Mark's pretty bottom. Frantically the girl jammed one knee into the back of the other to contain the naked smart of leather across her bare buttocks.