Anonymous - A Man with a Maid IV

“Now then, young Will,” I addressed him, “you shall have a good dozen of the best with a birch, after which you may leave with your ill-gotten gains, but with the understanding that I intend to tell Mr. Willoughby, your employer, that I do not find you all trustworthy or reliable. It will mean your dismissal, but at least you will be spared the ignominy of a police arrest. Are you agreeable to that?”

The youth closed his eyes and nodded, and a choking gasp emerged from his trembling lips.

“If you please, Alice, there’s a dear girl,” I ordered, “unbutton Master Will’s shirt and roll it up as high as you can? And the undershirt as well. The bare back is the field of operation for a common thief.”

“Oh please, sir,” the youth suddenly and tearfully gasped out, “don’t strip me, I beg of you, don’t do that! I-I will take the birching bravely, I promise! Even give me double, sir, but please don’t strip me!”

“You are unduly modest now after your roguery,” I chided him. “And there is nothing of impropriety in being stripped to the waist for a flogging. Why, sir, if you had gone to Eton as I did, young sir, you would have been forced to bare a good deal more than what I propose to unveil. Proceed with it, Alice!”

Alice went behind the slim youth and began to tug out the shirttails, at which the fellow twisted and wriggled and even tried to kick, crying out and sobbing, “Oh no! I beg of you, Miss, don’t shame me so! Have pity on me!” till I was exasperated. I started towards the culprit and myself unbuttoned his shirt and then yanked up; the tails in front while Alice was doing the same behind. To my intense surprise, I perceived not an undershirt but a-pink camisole, with fastening shoulder straps, and what was more-a quite discernible bosom! Our Will Ponsonby was not a young boy, but a young girl!

“In heaven’s name, what is the meaning of this impersonation?” I demanded, angry both with myself and with the conniving wench.

“Oh please, sir, I-I’ll take the b-birching and say no more, only leave me my clothes, for God’s sake!” the girl said in a trembling low husky voice that now took on a disturbingly appealing nuance-now that I knew her to be a she instead of a he, to be sure! “The-the fact is, my aunt is very poor and I have been trying to find work as a typist and without luck, and Davis, that’s the grocer’s boy, told me that Mr. Willoughby down the street was in dire need of some waiters because two of his men had gone off to visit sick relations. So-so I dressed myself this way and I got the job. And when I saw the lady’s purse open-”

“Dear me,” Alice here intervened. “I really must have forgotten to close the clasp.”

“That’s true, M-Miss,” the girl sobbed. “When I saw the notes and I filched them… but truly, I-I meant to bring them back as soon as I find steady work, that’s the truth, sir!”

“Then what is your real name?” I sternly demanded.

“Wilhelmina Ponsonby,” was the answer.

I must confess that this discovery gave me quite a turn, from finding a Will transfigured into a Wilhelmina before my very eyes. My eyes fixed on the camisole and on the two pert, firm swellings which I know knew were titties and not the chest of a boy. Alice, behind the captive, facing me, winked and made a gesture. My pulses began to throb quickly. And why not indeed? Decidedly, this charming little thief who had added impersonation to her other follies was in need of a good lesson if she wished to earn her three pounds. I would not be brutal with her, but I was not yet convinced that she was telling the entire truth about the sick aunt.

“Very well, Wilhelmina,” I finally decided. “You may keep the three pounds and I will say nothing to Mr. Willoughby. But in return, you must be birched, and properly. That is to say, your breeches must be taken down and you must receive the withes on the bare bottom!”

“Oh no! Oh heavens! I would die of shame, sir-Oh for God’s sake, don’t do that to me!” the young woman wailed and tried to tug at her bound wrists.

“I am afraid you have no choice, Wilhelmina. It is that or having my fiancйe fetch the constable at once,” I said inflexibly. And then I attacked the buttons of the breeches, and began to drag them down, while the slim captive struggled and screamed and pleaded with me not to shame her thus.

But a perverse kind of sensual excitement had taken hold of me-to which of course I could attribute my erotic state of knowing that my beloved Alice was at last alone with me and that we were so soon to be made one. In the waiter’s costume, this charming brown-haired girl looked so devilishly like a boy that was impatient to discover the essential difference. The hair was cut so closely, like that of a schoolboy who wishes to be thought anything but a scholar by his classmates, that there was a kind of disturbing mannishness to that charming face. But now that the breeches were down, I saw a pair of white cotton knickers, and I felt my cock throb and stiffen in response. Between ourselves, Alice and I knelt down and tugged the breeches off the struggling slim long legs of the wailing and sobbing captive. We unbuttoned the shirt and let it dangle loosely about her. She was now revealed in just the camisole and knickers, her slim long pale white legs almost entirely bare, since she wore half-socks of gray wool to about mid-calf and of course the black-patent leather shoes.

I found myself unfastening the shoulder straps of the camisole and letting it drop down to her ankles, whereupon Alice whisked the garment off, and our Will who was Wilhelmina shrieked aloud as she found herself naked from throat to the waistband of her knickers. They were very snug and tight-fitting, and their legs were down to about mid-thigh, slightly shorter than those of a pair of drawers. I could see now for myself how easy it had been to pass herself off as a youth, because her titties were small oranges, saucily high-perched, widely spaced, with the most adorable little pink buds set in narrow coral circles, the circles of love, as I always called them. Her belly was flat. and sleek and with an adorably tiny deep navel to mark it. The knickers shaped out one of the jounciest pair of compact, tightly spaced oval cheeked bottoms I have ever seen, and Alice’s eyes were glowing with a sadistic joy as they fixed on that exciting posterior. Wilhelmina’s thighs were long and shapely and on the slender side, her calves highset and sinuous. With the shirt loosely flapping and open down the front, and in only her knickers and the half-socks and shoes, together with that closely cropped hair of hers, I found this wench devilishly enticing.

“She really must have her knickers down, Jack dear, if you’re going to birch her,” Alice suggested.

“That’s quite true. But first I think the humiliation of a good smack bottom will be an ideal preparation for the birch,” I decided.

“Will you do it, or shall I, dear Jack?” Alice fairly panted in her excitement.

“Since it was your three pounds she took-which I of course will replace to you, my darling,” I gallantly replied, “to you shall fall the honor of initiating Will’s bottom in the pangs of retribution. This will be for the theft. Then we shall take up the matter of the impersonation and the flagrant deceptions she had practiced on us, by which time I have no doubt we shall learn more of her character than we now know. You may proceed, Alice.”

I must confess that this was a most entertaining diversion which I had not even conjectured when I had made my plans to entertain my beautiful Alice. If I were inclined to pun, I should say I was exchanging my days of liberty for days of libertinage. But assuredly, had I planned it, I could have devised no more fascinatingly piquant scene to mark the reunion of Alice and myself under happier circumstances. For as you will recall in the first volume of my saga, delicious Alice was entrapped and against her own will brought into this lair of lust of mine and there compelled by the most delicious dalliance to accord to me that which she had refused to do by her own sweet volition. Now here we were on the eve of our nuptials, and as a kind of aperitif the two of us had entrapped a young girl who had stolen three pound notes from my fiancйe and, what was worst of all, disguised herself as a youth in service to my caterer. Heaven alone knows what other scurrilous schemes she had perpetrated on the unwary. Now, posing on tiptoes of her brand-new and very shiny black patent leather shoes, the white man’s shirt unbuttoned all down the front and spreading out to disclose to my enraptured eyes the saucy oranges of her panting young titties, the pale white sleek goblet of her belly shuddering and rippling with constant tremors, her wrists pinioned by the pulley ropes, she stood in tight white cotton knickers and the gray wool half-socks and shoes awaiting our good pleasure. And pleasure indeed it would be-and it would be good!