A man with a maid,vol.IV

Chapter 8

I must confess that I was wild with impatience to see Miss Julia Denton stripped naked and to enjoy her virginal charms to the fullest of my erotic capacities. There was that about her which exacerbated my lustful senses to the extreme: her slim haughtiness, the insolent ripeness of her small mouth, the very obviously elegant rondures of her bosom and bottom which her garments presently concealed, and the knowledge that she had been betrothed and then jilted gave me to guess that even though she was technically a virgin, she would not be disinclined to amorous dalliance… the more so as Molly Bashe had already thrillingly assured me in private that her companion was secretly longing to be coerced into a total surrender of her fair person.

No pasha who ever boasted of his seraglio could wish for a more exquisitely imaginative tableau than that which I now had before me.

Here was the delightful Molly Bashe, clad only in her drawers, hose and shoes, acting as my executioner’s aide whilst her dearest friend Miss Julia Denton wriggled and twisted frantically with her wrists drawn high above her head and her body stretched till she was compelled to stand on tiptoe. And by now, since the brown-haired beauty was reduced to chemise and drawers and hose and shoes, the very next removal of these paltry shielding garments would display to my enraptured eyes the sweet succulence of her tempting intimate charms!

Molly Bashe had played her role with an ardor and a realism that even the devotees of Sardou and Zola could assuredly not have found fault with. And I think she had even convinced her friend that here she was, pitiably and shamefully reduced to half nakedness before me, and now compelled under grievous penalties to execute all my orders concerning Miss Julia Denton.

“I think,” I now commanded, “that we shall have the chemise off. I am curious to know whether Miss Denton’s drawers are as pretty as yours and as coquettishly flounced with lace.”

“Oh no! My Lord, no, Molly!” Julia Denton cried as she tilted back her head and stared up at her bound wrists and then frantically tried to yank them loose. “You shan’t undress me naked before this horrible beast, you shan’t, you shan’t! Oh, I thought you were my trusted, dear friend-and now you serve me so!”

“Do not misunderstand me, Miss Denton,” I interposed in a grave voice, “you must not hold Miss Molly guilty of such reprehensible actions, since she is but the instrument at my command. She knows that I have a serious score to settle with her, and she is trying to mitigate her punishment by prompt obedience to my orders. But as for you, my girl, your naughty rebelliousness and defiance of me, and worst of all your insults, which you still continue to express so volubly and loudly, cannot go longer unpunished. The chemise at once, Molly, or I shall have your drawers off and you shall feel a good birch on your naked bottom!”

“Forgive me, dear Julia, I must, I must, I can’t let him thrash me, please forgive me and understand,” Molly Bashe sobbed as she went about shearing off the shoulder straps of the chemise and letting the garment slither down to Miss Julia Denton’s trim ankles. There was a wild shriek, and poor Miss Denton tried frenziedly to twist herself around so as to hide the effulgent glories of her naked titties from my greedy eyes.

In vain. And her drawers were, indeed, even prettier than Molly’s; they were made of elegant batiste, pink, with white Valenciennes lace ruffles and bows all around the wide legs which came down to just above her dimpled knees. They were open drawers whereas Miss Molly’s were closed, and I could see at once that all I had to do was to slip my impatient hand up one or the other of those legs and I would reach the treasured nook of Miss Julia Denton’s jilted virginity!

She was really magnificent! In some ways, I lusted more for her than for Molly Bashe’s delightful treasures, which I had already, as you will recall, dear reader, vigorously and flatteringly sampled. Her breasts were not at all large, but they were high perched on her carnation-satiny chest, and they were like ripening young gourds, perhaps a trifle pendulous but not at all excessive, and certainly firm and satiny, as I was very shortly to learn through my tactile exploration. They had small areolae, of a bewitching dark coral which seemed most intense, and set in the centers of those sweetly angelic haloes appeared two dainty little pink buds, crinkly and twitching with every breath, sweet tidbits, morsels of delight for the lips and the tongue of an appreciative connoisseur such as I prided myself on being.

Her bellybutton was deep and very narrow, and in the contractions of her luscious half-naked body as she struggled now to shield herself from my profaning eyes it almost disappeared, as if it were winking at me and then hiding naughtily out of view. The waistband of her drawers was extremely tight, for apparently she had sewn a brand-new elastic about them, perhaps with a subconscious foreknowledge that their security would be imperiled later this very day. In her armpits there grew dainty little sprigs of dark brown hair, and her waist was elegantly slender and supple. But the drawers told me that her hips were lithe, her buttocks springy and rather oval-shaped, set tightly together with a gradually widening cleavage between those Callyphygian globes of palpitating maiden flesh. And most tempting of all, though the legs of her drawers were wide, I could perceive the rather prominent mound of her mount of Venus, which was apparently very thickly muffed, judging by the prominence of the bulge at her crotch as she twisted and wriggled hither and yon.

“Oh, this is monstrous of you, Mr. Jack!” she denounced me, her eyes sparkling with tears, but I noted that she kept her face averted to one side. “What I called you was fully justified by your shameful and cowardly acts! I do not at all repent them, do you understand? You are a wretch and a villain, sir, to force Molly to do your heinous bidding and to have lured us thus with the purpose of offering us these shameful indignities!”

“Your speech, my dear Miss Denton,” I ironically riposted, “comes straight out of a passage from one of Richardson’s or even Oscar Wilde’s more purplish novels. This is not the true Miss Denton who speaks, but a glibly erudite young bluestocking who has acquired little knowledge of the world but a great deal of useless rhetoric. When I have you down to fundamentals, my girl, I will untap your true self, and then we shall see what verbal fluency you can muster. Now then, Molly, to pay this saucy girl back for calling you a Judas, take that envelope opener and smack her bare breasts with it till I tell you to stop!”

“Oh, sir, I could never do that to my dear friend!” Molly Bashe ejaculated, with an outraged gasp that did her credit as a buddingly talented actress.

“In that case, my girl,” was my immediate reply, “I fear I shall be compelled to accord you the same treatment-after I have taken down your drawers and given you a smart birching on your naked bottom! And have no doubt that I shall carry out my threat if you do not comply at once with my order, Molly!”

“Oh, the vile beast, the infamous coward, to force you, poor Molly to perpetrate such a shocking and villainous act upon your own dear friend!” Julia Denton cried, as again she tugged uselessly at her wrists, serving only to make her magnificent titties jiggle in the most fascinating way, and one that convinced me not only of their satiny and delicious resilience but also that they were flawlessly elastic and springy as a man’s fingers could wish for.

“You are most unwise, Miss Denton,” was my retort, “to incite my anger further by these quite useless insults. I shall be avenged for them, be very certain, just as I mean to do with your friend here for what she did to me in the past. I would advise you to forsake this recklessness, Miss Denton, or you will pass a very uncomfortable time here in the Snuggery.”

With this, I turned with a very stern face toward the delectable Molly Bashe and, fixing her with my sternest look, went on: “For the last time, Molly, will you or will you not carry out my order?”

“Oh, my poor Julia, I have no choice,” Molly groaned as she picked up the silver envelope cutter in her right hand and stepped up towards the absolutely consternated and scarlet-faced Miss Denton. “You’ve heard what he said he’ll do to me if I don’t obey, dear Julia. I know I couldn’t bear it, I truly couldn’t, and if you’re really my friend, you couldn’t expect me to suffer such mortification and distress. So I must apologize to you in advance for what I am going to have to do to you, my poor Julia.”

Was not this the most consummate little actress who ever made her debut on so intimate and lascivious a stage? I vow, dear reader, I could not have written a better script myself had I been Sheridan or Moliere or Racine. And I perceived Miss Molly Bashe’s sly reasoning: By convincing her beautiful friend that she was being forced under the most dire tortures to comply, however unwillingly, with my cruel and heartless commands, she could secretly share in the naughty delights I meant to pursue with the estimable Miss Denton, which would ideally put her into a proper mood to suffer the same ultimate priapic fate herself-and thus by the roundabout logic so dear to a woman’s mind and heart, she would arrive at her own naughty purpose of seeing Julia stripped and felt and flogged and had without having to admit to herself that she had been a wanton in demanding all this!

I will admit that this little game of ours enormously stimulated my passions, which as you know had been kept under the severest continence all these past dreary days. But while this dialogue was going on between the women, I feasted my eyes on the haughty features of the lovely and half-naked Miss Denton, admiring the way those artificial and exaggeratedly round curls-over which either she or her hairdresser must have spent an incalculable amount of time-fell with such artful grace over the high arching forehead and at the sides of that lovely haughty head. That small, ripe mouth of hers bespoke an insolent and self-willed temperament, which I was certain camouflaged in turn the most voluptuous precepts of desire, and the bold, dark-brown eyes, which flashed daggers at me now and wished me a thousand times dead for being such a heartless monster, knew, I was sure, how to be humid and tender, how to soften and to dilate in the inexpressible throes of hot, excited girlish come!

But now it was apparent that Julia Denton desired not to submit too passively to her own secret yearnings of being overpowered against her will and thus able to enjoy the sweetly illicit joys of being forced and fucked without the slightest harm done her highly moral virginity. For instead of closing her eyes and shiveringly awaiting Molly’s smacks with the envelope cutter, she suddenly drew a long breath and cried out vehemently, “No, no, I’ll not submit! This is criminal, vile and depraved! Cannot you see, poor Molly, how this wretched scoundrel is amusing himself at the expense of both of us by forcing you, my dearest friend, to shame and hurt me while he gloatingly enjoys the sight? Don’t come closer, Molly. I shall kick you hard. I mean it!”

And with this, panting, she kicked out with her right foot, and if Molly Bashe had not suddenly moved over to one side, she assuredly would have had a very badly bruised shin.

“You wish to kick, do you?” I told the enraged and embattled beauty. “So be it! I have in mind a tableau out of the Folies Bergeres themselves, which will put you in a posture for kicking and yet not let you imperil your tender and lasting friendship for Molly Bashe by actually treating her so abusively.” And with this I turned to Molly and chided: “Put the envelope cutter down on that little tabouret and help me now, for I am going to arrange your impertinent friend in such a way that she will hardly be able to prevent you from obeying me, which you are under duress to do.”

Molly blushed as she saw my eyes on her rapidly swelling titties, and the little minx must surely have observed that the bulge in my trousers presupposed a certain ardent admiration of her own half-naked charms. But she kept her observations to herself, and very wisely, too, for if she had suddenly avowed her lust for my “avenging weapon” the game would have been up and Miss Julia Denton would have seen through the entire farce. So quickly and silently, taking her cue from me as I pointed to this and that, she aided me, swiftly and with a truly praiseworthy efficiency. She knelt down beside the now frantic Miss Julia Denton, suddenly seized the latter’s left ankle, and hoisted that beautiful leg as far up and out as she could hold it in her soft little hands.

“Let me go, Molly! Oh, what are you going to do to me? Stop it! And I thought you were my friend! Oh, Molly Bashe, I will never speak to you again from this moment forth. I renounce my friendship, I detest and loathe you for being a pawn in this wicked scoundrel’s evil game!”

Yes, dear reader, erudite young ladies of the bluestocking variety talked exactly like this, with as didactic and rhetorical a flourish as I have tried my poor best to set down on the pages of my journal. But I also knew that, just like the ornate and rococo ornamentation of our period furniture and the decor of our dwelling places, and exactly like the extravagant overdressing which the women of our generation fancied as being in the mode, once all this cluttering and unessential exterior could be stripped away, then one would begin to hear the most sincere and convincingly realistic expressions of the emotions they would be made to feel.

“Hold her tightly, unless you want to be put in her place,” I instructed Molly Bashe. Meanwhile, Julia Denton, twisting and wriggling herself in the most salacious manner, tried desperately to break her leg free from Molly’s hold, but quite in vain. I now approached with a cord, wound it tightly around that slim ankle, and made a good knot. Then I walked to the wall and turned the little windlass which lowered a trapeze bar I had but recently installed. When it was at the proper height, about that of Miss Julia Denton’s lovely brown-haired head, I stopped it and returned to seize the free end of the rope about her ankle and make it fast about the bar of the trapeze. Then I made a signal to Molly to release the tethered limb, and we both stepped back to contemplate the haughty and fuming young beauty.

She uttered a great cry and closed her eyes, and I could see a furious blush spread over her cheeks and even to her earlobes and to her temples, so great was the outrage to her modesty at the awareness of the posture I had put her in. Her drawers were stretched exaggeratedly by the “kick” positioning of her lovely leg. And since the waistband of her drawers was quite tight, as I had already detected, the cling of the fine pink batiste against the lusciously rounded curves of her bottom made it seem as if her firm flesh were about to burst through the thin stuff.

The gray lisle hose, which disappeared under the legs of these drawers, hardly did her beautiful calves justice. I made a mental note to myself to procure from some very fashionable and perhaps Parisian shop (or perhaps here in London owned by some wise and knowing Parisian female who would have an appreciation of what I was really seeking) to have on hand in my Snuggery various pairs of the finest silk and mesh hose, such as one sees in the music halls of Montmartre. Lisle and cotton are, I fear, for little girls in boarding schools because they are so drab and dowdy. But Miss Julia Denton was decidedly not a little girl. The indecent straddle of her legs accomplished by compelling her left leg to kick out in an extended horizontal plane let me feast my eyes on the tightness of the drawers at her virgin crotch, and now I fancied I could see peeping out from the stretched and almost bursting fabric itself the fine little follicles of pussy-hair, a darker hue than that whose charmingly florid curls fell about the sides of her head and over the top of her forehead in such exquisite profusion.

All this while, apart from her outcries and her raging looks at both of us, Miss Julia Denton twisted and arched and continued to drag on her bound wrists, making those lovely titties of hers jounce and bob in a simply thrilling manner so far as my cock was concerned. But now it was time to pass into the final phase of this little drama and to explore for myself the true reservoir of Miss Julia Denton’s concealed erotic passions.

I thereupon called a temporary halt to the proceedings, urging Molly Bashe to stand in readiness with the envelope cutter in her hand near her friend until I returned to put her to the test of that obedience which she had so fervently promised a little while ago.