Anonymous - A Man with a Maid IV

There is was, in all its bold candor, and it was purposely said to shock the erudite and enigmatic beauty into revealing in her turn her own sincere emotions. I daresay I succeeded, judging from her horrified loud gasp, and the way her eyes fixed me with a dawning comprehension and then the most furious of blushes. Ah, she understood that salacious, sweetly pronounced and savory word very well, did Miss Julia Denton, or she would not have blushed so. And if she knew the word, she must know the deed to which the word’s sweet tasty virginal embodiment must yield itself… in a word, to my manly and groaning prick!

“Ohh my God, sir, you cannot expect a decent girl to formulate such a vile request to her heartless seducer!” she murmured in a low shaking voice. “My God, at least have the decency to send my friend away if you are going to torture me until I yield to your iniquities!”

I confess I was sorely tempted to take her at her word and have a private sйance with her. Yet on the other hand the whole point of this exciting afternoon lay in the fact that Molly Bashe, as the arch conspiratress, had slyly arranged this casual visit to my quarters with her friend and had so unexpectedly proposed to me that I subject the two of them to my carnal urges. I wished them therefore both to be present and both to participate at that time I possessed or whipped one so that the other might derive her own stimulating and voyeuristic thrill. For thus, each of these delectable damsels sharing the other’s ordeal and herself affected by it, I should come off superlatively well in the expansion of my own radiant pleasures in the Snuggery.

That is why I coldly responded: “No, Miss Denton, I shall not send Molly away, for she has not yet had her full punishment. But you, with your bold words and your insults and your continued defiance of me, have altered my schedule for her punishment, so it is you who must first pay the penalty for your brazenness. Hence I ask you again, nay I command you: beg me to put my fingers inside your drawers and feel your soft hairy cunt!”

Even Molly Bashe, standing beside me breathless with her own excitement, gasped at this violently lewd verbal assault upon the hitherto impeccable chastity of Miss Julia Denton.

I waited a moment, my eyes glittering at the sight of how sweetly now my captive’s flamingly marked naked titties swelled and receded and how, more than ever, the dark brown curls in her distended armpits had become damp with the seat of her ordeal. I stared also at the lisle-stockinged leg which was held out straight beyond me, and I could see the muscular spasms which were not all caused by the traction of that beautifully shaped limb.

“Hand me that birch, then, Molly,” I said after a long pause during which my captive remained defiantly silent, contenting herself with blushing and sighing, and closing her eyes as she tried to avert her face from me. “We shall see if a few good cuts from this stinging rod will be more painful than the envelope cutter.”

“Yes, Mr. Jack, here you are,” Molly exclaimed as she proffered the thin supple bundle of flexible withes.

Julia Denton’s eyes bulged with horror as she saw me lift the birch slowly and menacingly over her panting titties. “Oh for God’s sake, Mr. Jack, not that, not that on my bosom! Oh, you will kill me for a certainty! I cannot hold out against such pain, oh have pity on my helplessness and at least, in the name of decency, send Molly out of this room-and-and-and-” she began to sob, bowing her head, her shoulders shaking with the muffled sounds of her despair.

“And what then, pray tell, Miss Denton?” I ironically pursued.

“I-I will do what you-you want-oh heavens, sir, you are torturing me and making me die of shame by keeping me like this with Molly here to watch and to hear all the-all the awful things you say!”

“I know this very well, and this too is part of your punishment, Miss Denton. Now you have five seconds to ask me what I wish you to ask, or you shall feel this rod where you have just felt the envelope cutter-one… two… three…”

“Wait-oh dear Lord, I cannot bear it. Yes-Yes I’ll say it-oh, s-sir, don’t b-b-birch me, and you may p-p-put your f-f-fingers in-into my d-d-drawers-” she babbled. Then, bursting into tears she bowed her lovely head and stood there shuddering violently while my prick gloried in her surrender, for I knew now that it would not be long before she would feel something other than my fingers in that sweet maiden treasure of hers which the almost bursting drawers still concealed.

“You are still very bold, Miss Denton. I told you to beg me humbly and graciously. Instead, you tell me that I may do this and may do that. You speak as if you were at home in your own salon, giving orders to a footman. No, decidedly, you need chastening, Miss Denton. I think you shall have three good cuts with the birch before I listen to your appeals again.”

Hardening my heart, beside her frenzied lunges and twists, I applied three light but deftly swishing cuts to both titties, taking care not to strike the delicate nipplebuds at each luscious firm young globe. Nevertheless, the victim tilted back her head and shrieked at the top of her lungs, clawing the air with her slim fingers, digging her nails into her sweating palms, trying to kick her outstretched leg free of the rope which fixed it to the trapeze bar, her body twisting and swaying and the overhead pulley creaked loudly to announce her frantic attempts at evading the stinging kisses of the rod.

“And now you may speak again, Miss Denton, but take care and choose your words with care. For if they are not satisfactory to me, you shall have six more and not three, and these right over the centers of those tender breasts of yours!” I warned.

I drew back my right hand and her eyes despairingly fixed upon the uplifted birch, then she fairly shouted, “Oh no! Wait, don’t hit me again-oh my God, I can’t help myself sir, oh please, I beg-I humbly be-ohh-ahh-I beg of you-s-sir, please put your f-fingers inside my dr-drawers and f-f-feel my-my-”

She could get no further but burst into hysterical tears and bowed her head.

“That was very good, Miss Denton, so far as it goes, but it does not quite far enough. Once I have my fingers inside your drawers, what do you wish me to feel?” I demanded. And then, to spur her to a suitable and hasty answer, I patted one of her gorgeous titties with the ends of the switches.

“Ohh, feel my cunt, please feel my cunt, then, but oh my God, don’t birch me there!” Julia Denton screamed.

I flung the rod to the floor and I advanced against her. Her outstretched stockinged leg trembled and shuddered as I put my left hand on it, my fingertips squeezing the firm elastic flesh between the leg of her drawers and the lisle stockings. Then my right thumb and forefinger edged toward the waist of those pink drawers, inserted beneath to feel the moist warm shivering goblet of her belly, and then slowly and lingeringly descended until to my joy I could feel the beginning of that love garden which was her furry pubis. The fleece was extremely thick and silky, and it was also moist. Now this moisture could be from agony-sweat, but there would be a final test to determine whether it was something far more treacherously informative as to Miss Julia Denton’s most secretive emotions.

She had turned her face to one side and screwed her eyes desperately shut as if to obliterate and take herself away from this locale. I shot a glance at Molly and saw the brunette, her hands clasped in front of her, leaning forward to watch with shining eyes. I smiled to myself. She had been a perfidious friend indeed, and she would not leave my quarters full absolved of her naughtiness until she too had paid a penalty she had not counted on when first she knocked at my door.