Anonymous - A Man With A Maid II
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- Название:A Man With A Maid II
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“But I am being merciful, Marion; for all your jibes and slander, as well as for your slap, I might, had I been more ruthlessly inclined, have taken a whip to those soft shoulders and that plump backside whose dimensions I am longing to behold, after having felt you just now. No, quite the contrary, Marion. You see in me an admiring spectator standing ready to salute your hidden charms, and you cannot accuse me of cruelty. It is rather you who are guilty of that for hiding your delicious person with such a confining amount of garments.”
“Ohh, you-you wicked, heartless, infamous man!” she breathed, turning her face to the left, closing her eyes and compressing her lips, while a long shudder rippled through her body.
I now unbuttoned her bodice, and as the last button gave way to my impetuous fingers, she uttered a low groan and bent her head a little, trembling convulsively as she felt me drag apart the folds and expose in all their glory the sumptuous turrets of her naked bosom.
I almost gasped myself in ecstatic admiration. Marion’s breasts were really splendid, boldly uptilting pears with the sauciest, firm dark coral nipples imaginable. The aureolae were wide and of a brownish-orangeish hue, and I could not take my eyes off them for a long, devouring moment. But when at last I extended my hands and cupped those firm, satiny-warm gourds, my thumbpads delicately pressing the pert buds back into their centers, Marion uttered a shriek of shame and rage, and violently flung herself backwards to escape the ignominious palpation.
How I reveled in the warm, palpitating feel of her naked breasts against my eager hands! Her panting, sobbing and tumultuous breathing made them flutter like doves in my avid grasp, while she turned her face from side to side, her forehead now damp with agony-sweat, continuing to jerk at her bound wrists and claw the air uselessly with her long, slim fingers. I knew that she longed to rip and shred my face with her sharp-buffed nails if she were free, and the knowledge that she was utterly at my mercy and must endure all that I cared to inflict upon her, filled me with a glorious exuberance and an incomparable vitality. My prick ached so savagely that I determined to give her a brief respite so that she could once more reappraise her situation, which was certainly no more desperate than at the outset.
I seated myself before her while I planned the next step in my campaign to subjugate haughty Marion. You will recall that I had had to undress Alice forcibly, though I had not needed to use the scissors; I very much doubted, however, that Marion would give me the same kind of passive resignation, allowing me to work her clothes over her clenched hands, over the ropes, then release each rope in turn, slip the garments down and off, then refasten the noose. No, it would actually be more exciting to cut away Marion’s clothes when the moment came to expose the most intimate parts of her body. I had already ripped her frock down to the waist, badly enough so that it would certainly need replacement. I therefore lit a fresh cigar and sat there silently watching her while I puffed away, sending puffs of smoke into her scarlet, contorted face. She coughed, twisted her face from side to side, clenched her teeth and moaned, trying her best not to look at me during this prolonged interlude. All this while I feasted my eyes on the shuddering rise and fall of those heaving loveglobes, whose nipples seemed to have darkened and stiffened now that they were exposed to the air and to the burning caresses of my enraptured gaze.
“Well, Marion, are you beginning to realize that your sharp tongue and impulsive belligerence have condemned you to reprisal?” I mockingly asked after this long silence.
“Have-have you no decency in your nature, s-sir?” she at last forced herself to speak, and her voice was low and husky and trembling with the effort it must have cost her. “Very well. I admit that I behaved rudely to you, and I should not have slapped you, but that gave you no right to abuse me and to shame me in this way, which is criminal, as you surely know. Let me go now, at least, to make some amends for your disgraceful and horrid conduct. In return, I-I will apologize for having slapped you.”
“What, so soon contrite, after so determined and embittered a resolve to have me imprisoned, Marion?” I chuckled, as I took a long puff at my cigar and sent a wreath of aromatic blue smoke into her contorted face. “I confess I like you better as an enraged Amazon, ready to claw and rend and decimate me at all costs. So you are willing to apologize for the slap, are you? And do you think, Marion, that will even the score between us, Marion? You, who from the outset tried in every way to hamper my romance with your sister. You, who constantly blackened my character, even before we had come to that first rift which was your doing, trying to set her mind against me and to deny her her own natural inclinations.”
“You are a heartless wretch to have so entrapped me,” she panted, frantically glancing down at her front and biting her lips again as she saw how lewdly the ripped front of her frock, the yawning blouse and bodice, exposed the glories of her olive-sheened, panting naked bosom “You dared lure me here by saying that you could inform me of my future happiness, only to brutalize and manhandle me in this abusive and criminal way-surely whatever I have done to you is more than wiped out by the offense you have given me this afternoon.”
“Not by one thousandth part, I fear,” was my reply as I leaned back in my chair and leered up at her, giving her a taste of her own medicine, as it were. “You very nearly cost me my sweetheart, you dared to set yourself up as judge and jury over me, whereas now I merely pay an admiring tribute to your womanly attributes, Marion. Indeed, I have been asking myself all this time if you were truly a woman, to have so little heart and so much spleen and so much vindictiveness.”
“And that is a damnable lie!” she burst out, her naked bosom heaving, wildly as she struggled with the bonds that held her. “I could not possibly in all the world have the slightest regard for a beast and traducer like you, even if you were the only man alive!”
“Now that is much better, and I much prefer it. It comes from the heart and is therefore more credible,’’ I mockingly told her. “And I did not lie when I told you I would give you information as to your future happiness. I shall proceed to do that, Marion, by continuing with my plan to draw from you even more truthful and sincere reactions which will once and for all set to rest in my mind the doubts I have had. For all this while you have represented yourself as a stone statue, with no more heart than that and no more soul and no more understanding of what may pass between a man and a maid who desires him. Prepare yourself, then, to learn the absolute truth about yourself before this afternoon is ended.”
I crushed out my cigar in the ashtray and rose from my chair. Marion sucked in her breath, her eyes widening supremely, and tried to fling herself backward at my approach. Once again I put my hands out to those splendid naked globes of her bosom and lovingly squeezed and stroked them, feeling her nipples stiffen and tingle as my palms lingeringly grazed those crinkly tidbits. Then once again I seated myself and, while I kept my eyes on her scarlet and contorted face, I lowered my hands under her voluminous skirts and suddenly yanked them up.
“Oh my God, no! Don’t do that! Oh, I’ll kill you for that-stop it-oh, help me, help me, for God’s sake, won’t somebody help me?” Marion shrieked. With all her might she lunged this way and that, trying to jerk her ankles against the confining pinions, dragging on her tractioned wrists, while her beautiful bare breasts jiggled and danced in the most delicious choreography.
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