Anonymous: Aphrodizzia

Conveniently to hand on the table by the divan is the probe, the familiar tube which held your corona cigar. Dipped in the green liquid soap, you present its rounded end to Noreen's anus which tightens in dismay. Have no fear. You need only increase the pressure inexorably until continued resistance causes her more discomfort than yielding.

See how it enters easily at last, causing Noreen to stick her seat out even further to accommodate it. You may be sure, also, that the lubricating soap will stir up some most unladylike urges in the stripes of this sturdy young woman. With long but rapid strokes you give Noreen a diddling to match Sonja's caresses and squeezings between her legs. A footman holds a convenient mirror so that you may indulge that favourite quirk of watching the confusion in Noreen's face as you sodomise her with the tube. This pantomime lasts quite half an hour. Then you will be struck by another thought. What would it be like if your own penis, rather than tube, was in Noreen's arse? How would it feel to enjoy her there as she herself reaches the climax of her efforts on Sonja's fingers. The science of feeling, rather than mere randiness, may prompt you to this experiment.

For such a stout member as yours, more thorough lubrication is needed and you will therefore vaseline Noreen's anus properly. She may curse you and struggle a little-but numbers are on your side. Ah! A moment more and you are tightly gripped in Noreen's robust young backside. As you lie there, your eyes will meet in the mirror, fury and outrage in Noreen's, amusement and enjoyment in your own.

Rebellious though she may seem, you need pay no heed to oaths and expletives. Noreen's bottom has the same anatomy as that of any other young woman. Once you are securely inside her, she has no way of expelling you until you choose to take your leave. As you ride resolutely in and out, you may curb her insolence if you choose by reminding her of what lies in store an hour hence. The black leather thong of the whip and the warder who loves his work. At last, despite herself, Noreen begins that aria of rising cries which betokens her orgasm on Sonja's fingers. At all such times, the woman's natural response is to tighten her arsehole in the spasm of release. So Noreen does now. That exquisite compression is the trigger which fires your own fowling-piece. Your hot spurts of seed are safely spent deep in Noreen's bottom upon hot infertile soil. As you withdraw, Noreen's anus will go small and very tight, your own flaccid tool lolling across her pale bottom cheeks, leaving a dying snail-trail of your passion and an oily touch of vaseline. By now the footmen are at the door. The officer who is to punish Noreen for her previous misdeeds presents his compliments. He asks if it will be convenient to bundle Noreen into the next room and secure her kneeling over the block. You consent at once. Noreen is in a state of consternation, which is accounted for by more than the mere threat of the whip. Her thighs are pressed together and the cheeks of her bottom contract until the crack between them is no more than a thin compressed line. She had never imagined that she would be taken directly to the next room without an interlude of privacy after the night's amusements. She knows that the discipline over the block will last several hours and she begins to gasp and implore, assuring her that she cannot possibly wait so long. This will no doubt cause you to smile and assure her that such a predicament is her problem, not yours. The two footmen lead her at once to the block. Twenty or thirty amateurs of such dramas watch Noreen positioned in her straps.

Her tensings and sniffings of anticipation are almost overlooked at first. The guests notice instead the wetness of her love-juice between her thighs. They observe the yellowed smear of vaseline near Noreen's arsehole. One woman points out the snail-trail of male semen over one full pale cheek of Noreen's bottom, where the limp and sodomising prick lolled as it withdrew. The guard cracks his whip in the air and there is silence. You will sit, of course, in the leather chair at the secret window. Helena presents her naked beauty at one arm of the chair, Claudia at the other. Both are completely at your disposal as you watch Noreen's discipline. Young Natasha bends just in front of you, bare from the hem of her green jumper down to her feet. The drama in the next room belongs to another story. Indeed, you will guess at much of it. Thirty-six strokes across Noreen's bottom and thighs with the whip, then an interlude. Three dozen more and another interlude. So the morning passes. What caresses and kisses you bestow on your three young graces as you watch. At last Natasha seems to lower her hips towards your lap. Well-prepared she site plumb upon your fine shaft of an erection. The tightness is an exquisite, rending thrill, almost annihilating. You feel your head swim and your senses failing at the delicious anguish of nervous collapse. The scene fades from before your eyes and you wake, at last, in your own study with the book before you. Believe me, there is much more to be told as a sequel to this adventure. Yet you are a man of affairs and cannot devote your entire existence to matters of pleasure. That being the case, I will trespass on your patience no longer. In a little while I hope that our trusty scholar, Professor J-, will lay before you the strange tale of my own plantation and its captive beauties. When that happens, you shall learn far more of me than I have had the leisure to convey to you now. Until that time when our paths cross again, I bring you the heartiest greetings from Dolly and Jack. From the three of us and the girls whose adventures you have shared in, I bid you not adieu, dear friend, but au revoir. Frederick, Viscount A-,