A. Verse - The Violation of Marcia Thomaston

A lovely blush flamed her milky cheeks.

“Please, Georges… I… I… don’t… want you to…“ she murmured.

And, as she turned her face up toward his, he bent and applied his mouth against hers in an amorous kiss. And Marcia, trembling with fury and revulsion at being compelled to watch this degrading scene, saw Marie’s soft, slender fingers move over the masked stranger’s right hand, which reposed so provocatively on one enchantingly rounded and silken-kissed soft knee.

The young girl seemed at first hesitant; but as the kiss continued, prolonged its ecstatic moment, she yielded; it was plain that her body undulated toward the male, that her mouth fused more passionately with his, that her fingers fluttered in. delight against his pilgrimaging hand. And he, moved by Marie’s sweet submission, let his left hand rise to her golden head, furling his fingers gently, languidly, in her lustrous chignon.

The harlot, thought Marcia, white with anger and shame and she tossed her head to one side, only to be reminded of the fetter by the immediate response of the noose, which tightened around her ivory throat.

At last Mr. George-for it is simpler to call him that as Lil did-withdrew his lips from the trembling, soft, moist mouth of the quivering young girl, whose blue eyes gazed into his with a humid and languorous expression… the prelude of desire.

“You are very sweet, Marie,” he murmured, stroking her hair, now caressing her fingers playfully, circling her delicate white wrists with right thumb and forefinger, “and you are not afraid of me, are you, ma toute belle et exquise, mon amoureuse divine?”

“Oh, non, non… Georges… pas du tout vous tes si gentil… si doux,” murmured the blond beauty, sighing as she felt her shoulders circled so masterfully by his left arm, which brushed the bare flesh with amorous entreaty.

Provocative she was in this intimate dishabille and most stirring to the senses, because she was submissive, yielding and candid in her acceptance of desire-all the attributes that Marcia could not and would not possess.

Now gently placing his hands upon her milky forearms and, bending his head, he kissed her fleetingly in that most amorously bewitching niche which is the dimpled, thrilling feminine shoulder hollow.

Marie quivered, her eyes closed and slowly, her golden head fell back, tautening her delicious naked throat, in which the pulse throbbed with a cadence that was sensual in its rhythmic affirmation… and his lips, rising from that sweet niche of girlish flesh, paid homage to the purity of her throat, kissing the pulse exquisitely and she sighed languorously, half swooning under the savoring intoxication of his calculating, artistic caresses.

Marcia, for all her loathing, was compelled to wonder, she had read that lustful men sought out brothels surreptitiously to give vent to their most bestial desires-but this amorous badinage was gentle, refined, the communion of an esthete and his beloved. It was strange. Who was this man who called himself Mr. George? And how was it, yes, how could it be, that Marie, the gentle and modest Marie, gave herself so willingly to a stranger’s caresses?

And what would be her fate? She had entreated him to aid her-and his answer had been to pinion and gag her and force her to watch the scene of his wooing of her maid, her own maid- who had, as if hypnotized by some strange spell, aided him in the deed!

And, if he did not mean to free her, but aid Marie instead and leave her here, she would become the helpless prey of men far less polished in behavior than he; she would be ravished tortured, even!

She trembled, but her eyes remained, widened, blazing, on the couple seated before her very gaze, intent on the rites of burgeoning desire on that lush, enticing divan… the divan of a brothel!

George’s lips descended slowly, without haste, for he was savoring the delight of feeling Marie’s cool, satiny skin against his questing lips and stealthily his mouth crept down her white, shivering flesh of throat, until it reached the top of the chemise, desirous of attaining that tempting declension which announced the valley of her breasts, shielded beneath the silk.

“Oh… Georges… mon amour,” breathed Marie, “il ne faut pas… you must not… I I… am ashamed… to let you do what you have done… cesses, je t’en prie my mistress… will see…“

Her plaintive, soft, sweet voice was intensified in sensual provocation by the commingling of her native tongue with those classically familiar but ah, how evocative plaints which every young girl before the threshold of mysterious desire employs to show her hesitancy to the inculcated rites of the great god Pan!

He replied, his hands tightening on her milky, rounded forearms, “Here, nothing matters except us… your mistress-bah-as for her, she is just another temptress for the customers!”

Marcia went white with mingled shame and fury and stamped her feet in a petulant flaring up of temper.

“But, Georges, she will discharge me when we… get out of here…“ faltered Marie.

He smiled and kissed her soft, enchanting lips, replying, “In that case, mignonne, I’ll employ you as my mistress!”

Marie turned away her head, blushing furiously and her soft hands crept to his chest, gently pushing against him as if to entreat kindness and cessation of the emotional confusion he was so overwhelmingly effecting on her maiden sensibilities.

And when at last she could speak, she murmured, her eyes downcast, her crimsoning face averted shyly, “But… but… I do not even know who you are, or your real name, monsieur Oh, no, it would be impossible! Tout a fait impossible!”

“I’ll change your mind for you, mignonne,” he murmured and his hands slipped to her white, rounded shoulders and gently, but with insistent will, drew off the fragile shoulder straps of her chemise; and descended the diaphanous white garment to her waist.

Ah, what a provocative enticement thus he did reveal!

For the glory of Marie’s rounded, firm breasts was delineated within the amorous clasp of a silk and lace tea-rose-hued brassiere, against the fragile fabric of which the delicate but poutingly assertive little coral buds thrust out tautly, entrancingly! Delicious breasts, not with that sensual boldness of Marcia’s arrogant pear-globes, but beautifully rounded, resilient, velvety and firm… and the valley which cleaved their adorable Venus-saliency was endowed with the most illusive shadowy path, that demanded burning kisses and the exploration of passionate lips and gifted, virile tongue as fitting tribute to the treasures it gave access to! “Oh… oh… mon… sieur… Georges What have you done? Oh… don’t… cher monsieur… je t’en prie… laissez-moi,” faltered the lovely girl and she sought to raise the chemise to cover her tautly molded globes of young desire.

But his lips attacked her trembling fingers with such entreating tenderness that she was disarmed; and, bowing her head, blushed scarlet, her hands meshed in the filmy chemise which she had sought to raise, as with tender and imaginative persuasiveness be applied his eager lips on the glorious fissure which commenced the valley of her breasts. And now his hands rose to take. hers and lead them to her own turrets, brushing both her fingers and his against the sheath which harbored the divine treasures of her Venus-globes, so round, so proud, so erect and unashamed in their flesh-wonder at this male adoration. She succumbed to this delicious approbation and homage to her lovely treasures of femininity,… sighing rapturously, poignantly, the very picture of a properly tutored young girl who finds herself beguiled against all her inhibitions and teachings by the ecstatic furtiveness of desire.

So adept were his suave hands as they gently forced hers that now she unknowingly cupped her own bosom-globes and thus proffered their taut, silk and lace-kissed glories to his lips- which, having tasted the regalia of the satiny and intimately woman-perfumed flesh of her breast valley, now sought to gauge the resilience and elasticity and ardent firmness of the globes themselves… brushing the silken sheath with questing, fleeting lips, while he murmured soft words of enchantment: “Marie… my beautiful adorable Marie… pigeonne enchantante mignonne adore’e… laissez-moi t’adorer. Je te veux avec tout mon dйsir… tout mon amour…”