Aphrodizzia

FIVE

Julia and Natasha at the Villa Anna -A first lesson in lewdness-Our two little madams ordered to spend their mornings on the massage-table-Gloved hands and soapy fingers-Julia and Natasha broken in as “bitches”-The gross depravities on the marble table-Smacked and perfumed-Julia and the street-boys-The railings between them-Love between bars-Passions at six inches distance-Natasha proves that youth knows the greatest perversity.

My dearest Jack, Oh, what a wretch he is! Poor young Claudia, and she only fifteen! To deceive her so! And up her young bottom too! And the wicked, wicked cane! All these things I said to myself on reading your letter, Jack. For, as a woman, would the world not insist that I must be outraged on behalf of the poor girl's bruised bottom and ravaged cunt? Have no fear, my friend.

Before I had half finished your amusing letter, smiles were twitching at the corner of my mouth. Ah, dear Jack! The charming dream you describe of a place where one might enjoy a few dozen such girls with no danger of tales being told! You may be sure I will speak to Lord Frederick about it. I shall see him in a few weeks more, for he never passes through Berlin without stopping for a day or two with me.

But now, my dear friend, let us be serious for a moment. You were quite right in your so-called hypocrisy with Claudia. A man who wishes to enjoy a girl though pure randiness will risk the police court if he forces himself upon her. Yet by a seeming pretence of moral purpose, he may often accomplish the very same things and be congratulated on his fine sense of public duty. You will forgive me for mentioning this again, dear Jack, but I think you are inclined to take the truth of it too flippantly. While in England you must adhere to this principle of moral hypocrisy or you will be destroyed. Only consider this.

Suppose that the venerable reformatory master you mention had seen Elaine Cox striding back from school, tossing her fair hair contemptuously, the pleated grey skirt worn brazenly short. As she passed his house, he might have dragged her in and ordered his cronies to bend her over while he thrashed her bare arse soundly for the young slut she was. And the consequence? An arrest, a prosecution, and a few months in the municipal gaol. But instead, he happened to notice the youngster when she was thirteen and he bided his time. Her insolent conduct in the street merited a reprimand. Our respectable reform-school master spoke privately to the justices. The girl was taken into custody and consigned to the reformatory. She and her two sisters. Many an afternoon in his study, he looked up from his desk to see those full pale cheeks of Elaine Cox's fourteen-year-old bottom presented over the stool for a whipping. He did things to her which you and I would envy. Yet the country's rulers praised him, and the world thought him a fine upstanding fellow-so he was for his prick was stiff night and day. I mention this, Jack, in order to explain my own method with Julia and Natasha. Imagine that my first act was to order these two young pupils to get their knickers off and prepare for something between their legs, up their bottoms, and in their mouths.

You can guess at the squeals and yells, the indignant protests, the arrival of furious teachers and parents to fetch them away, the surrounding of this villa by the imperial polizei. So, though I mean to achieve all those things, I proceed by an opposite route. As soon as the two girls arrived I frowned at Julia's tight riding-jeans and sluttish manner. I talked of the need for cleanliness and decency in body and mind. I spoke of discipline and strictness as though I might have invented the very ideas. The result? Julia and Natasha are writing letters home in which they assert that I am a very dragon of moral compulsion. That a girl may not so much as sneeze out of tune in the Villa Anna without being reprimanded for it. They will, of course, receive no sympathy from their homes. Instead it is I who get the replies to their letters. You would not credit how I am thanked for my careful supervision of girls who had been the despair of their parents and teachers alike. Is there any chance that I would have the time to take on the education of Julia and Natasha permanently? It is understood that I sail away to warmer climes in the winter-but if I would consent to take as my companions… You see, Jack? We are already nine-tenths of the way there. How did I accomplish this?

Quite simply by the lewdest means under the most respectable pretexts.

It was necessary to accustom Julia and Natasha to the most menial sensuality before I gave them into the arms of my two young women, Sonja and Petra. To do this one must get the little bitches' pants down and have them under one's hands. It was a little early to strip them on the pretence of spanking or whipping-I lacked the admirable pretext which you found with Claudia. Moreover, too much bare-bottom discipline at this stage might alert the curiosity of their families.

I chose the only other alternative which seemed to me reasonable.

For the first few days I talked fiercely of cleanliness and decency and of the high standard which is required in Germany, far superior to that of any other nation. So impressive was my display that I really believe Julia and Natasha thought themselves the two dirtiest little girls alive. I asked frequent questions as to the cleanliness of certain parts of their anatomies. Julia responded in her surly manner, Natasha with habitual sulkiness. Yet both blushed and I always seemed to be less than satisfied by their assurances of bathing and sponging, of regular visits to the tiled room near the boudoirs. I allowed my displeasure to assume irresistible proportions. Oh, Jack! What an actress is lost in me-as the dear Emperor Nero very nearly said! Or may I not one day say with him: qualis artifex pereo? Two days ago, the first thing after breakfast, I marched Julia and Natasha to the tiled “treatment-room” on the ground floor. Its centrepiece is the marble “massage-table.” This broad and wide surface is, in truth, nothing but a demonstration-table on which girls are made to perform by their masters for the entertainment of the guests. Yet it is admirably equipped with the means of restraint. “Natasha!” I said sharply, “Slip off your skirt and panties, then lie on the table.

Julia! Take those jeans and briefs off! Lie on the table facing Natasha! Since you cannot be trusted otherwise, you shall be brought here each morning. I will have your conduct strictly supervised, since you seem to regard proper German decency as beneath your dignity!”

There were protests at this, for the two girls already guessed at the sort of things which were to be done to them. “I do not tolerate disobedience in this house!” said I, in that quiet voice which is far the most menacing, “Nor do I permit a lewd little girl to play with herself lasciviously behind the bolted door of the tiled closet!” At this their faces blushed in unison. I did not know, of course, that they actually had indulged solitary pleasures in that place. Yet it would be most unusual for two girls like Julia and Natasha not to masturbate on the sly. I had clearly hit the mark with quite unexpected accuracy! I intimated that, unless they showed themselves obedient now, my report on their misconduct would travel to England by the next post. Had they known that they were to be the objects of sexual enjoyment, the two girls might have resisted even then. But I appeared to be such a dragon of a mistress, continually ranting of cleanliness and decency, that the thought would have been the last to enter their minds. Natasha looked at me for only a moment longer with that fair-skinned pouting sulkiness under her little blond fringe. Then she undid the navy-blue skirt of her uniform and stepped out of it. The slim, almost fragile pallor of those young thighs was a perfect picture. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her white, elasticated briefs, and then pulled her panties down so that she could step out of them. Most reluctantly, she put one pretty knee on the edge of the table, clambered up, and lay on her side with her back to the table's edge. At the very centre of the table is a well-anchored steel ring. I drew a strap firmly round Natasha's waist and fastened her to the metal ring. I also strapped her wrists together in front of her. Drawing back the tail of hair from our young blonde's neck, I then kissed her pretty nape and ears as if to assure her that she was now behaving as a good girl should. Julia, the older and more rebellious girl, had hesitated longer. Yet even she bowed to the inevitable. In her fuller young face the blue eyes with their darkly made-up lashes grew narrower. With her dark hair cut to so short and spiky a crop, there are looks of aggression and resentment in her appearance. All sides of this room are mirrored-for reasons which you will understand at once, Jack! The glass reflected the somewhat fatter cheeks of Julia's bottom in her tight jeans and the slightly heavier thighs-just as you caught them with your camera when she was walking up the shopping street with her young admirers.

Is it not an amusing irony, Jack? Julia, the product of a select school and good family, chose to behave as a slut at home. Now, when she is to be treated like a young slut, she shows all the indignation of a perfect lady to whom one makes a lewd suggestion. Never fear, her hands began to undo her riding-jeans. Down they came, with her knickers inside them. She turned, and I was able to admire the adolescent fatness of Julia's bottom and thighs as she clambered on to the table and lay facing the younger girl. I drew a waist-belt round Julia and a strap round her wrists so that she too was tethered to the steel ring set conveniently at the centre of the marble surface. The two girls lay there, each gazing at the long mirror on the opposite wall in which she saw her own and her partners bare rear view reflected in the infinitely receding images. “You may as well accustom yourselves to this routine,” I began gently as I pulled on my thin rubber gloves. “No more playing with yourselves behind bolted doors in closets or washrooms. From now on you shall spend an hour or so each morning lying on the table, in the hands of whichever mistress supervises you.” They both looked at one another with wild surmise-and then they looked at me. The resentment in Julia's hard young face was matched by the petulance of Natasha. I took the jar which contains a soap-cream heavily and elegantly perfumed with sensuous flowers. Taking a generous quantity in the palm of the rubber gloves, I began to spread it slowly over Natasha's elfin form, from her waist to her knees. I smeared the moist slipperiness over her young belly and round her still narrow hips. My hands travelled down her slim white thighs and up again. “Open your legs a little more, Natasha,” I said gently. A light blush showed in her face but she obeyed. My fingers moistened her lightly-furred vagina with the perfumed cream. I drew my hand away and then spread the soapy wetness over the taut slim cheeks of Natasha's bottom. It was the work of a moment to sink my forefinger deep into the jar of perfumed soap-cream and then to insert the rubber-gloved finger up Natasha's pert young arse to the very knuckle! She cried out in alarm, Jack, for you may be sure she has never had anything like this before. Yet Natasha's arsehole yielded with ease, though a girl of her age is naturally tight in that area. Slowly I withdrew my finger, leaving that rear escape route well lubricated. Natasha was trying to hide her eyes from Julia as well as me-and you may be sure that the blush had deepened a little. I chided her humorously. “Such false modesty, Natasha! After you have had this every morning for a few months, you will become quite addicted to a finger in that manner!” I took the sponge and made Natasha open her legs again. “Now,” said I, “we must see that little fountain play, Natasha!” She tensed and could not, though her need was not in doubt. Happily, Jack, there is a remedy to this. If one tickles expertly the little pipe-hole of the fountain, the patient cannot hold herself back. So Natasha let the golden rain flow like Danae, loading the grateful sponge. I leant over her and whispered into her ear that my rubber-gloved hands were also waiting to receive something else. How she buried her face in her arms now, Jack! I daresay she would have defied me, but the skilful application of that finger made defiance impossible. A moment more and she gave a little cry, her bottom yielding its burden into the gloved hands behind her. I left her lying in her present state no longer than it took to restore the gloved hands to their pristine pinkness.

Then I had only to sponge over Natasha's prim young body from waist to knees where it was already spread with the richly perfumed soap-cream.

The sponge was well-prepared, for such girls as Natasha and Julia carry their own ample supply of warm water with them, do they not?

Despite her consternation at this, I assured Natasha that we observe economy in all things. Our young blondes elfin bottom had the most obvious need of the sponge, which next moved in wet lathes over her hips, belly, thighs and between the legs. When I had finished, there was no more than the faintest glistening of unwiped lather between Natasha's buttocks and on her thighs. That apart, I left her wet from waist to knees with her own flood. The heavily perfumed soap-cream imparted a heavy, even cloying richness of scent to Natasha's trim body and to the air of the warm room. In my passion for cleanliness and decency, I insist that even the white elasticated briefs of Natasha's school knickers shall be so sweetly impregnated when she wears them that the perfume will scarcely be washed out of them. Imagine Julia's face as she saw that her own turn had come!

Under the short parted fringe of her spiky coiffure, the hard young contenance and heavily made-up blue eyes were set to defy me.

“Not in the mood to submit yet, Julia?” I asked coolly. “Very well. Perhaps you need a taste of the strap across those soft young bottom-cheeks.” To tell the truth I wished to avoid this, but there was no real alternative. I took the broad strap of thin leather, pressed down on the back of Julia's waist, and gave three smarting strokes. I aimed one of them so that the end of the strap caught her just between the legs, leaving an angry red line. With another stroke, the split tails of the thin leather curved in between Julia's bottom-cheeks. I leave you to imagine, Jack, if she continued to defy me after that! Once again my rubber-gloved hands spread the wetness of the soap-cream over Julia's heavier thighs, lumpish hips, and fatter arse-cheeks. Anticipating greater resistance, my well-loaded forefinger entered Julia's backside three times until her young belly's rear exhaust-pipe was quite filled with the cream.

Despite having had three smacks of the strap across her bare bottom-cheeks, Julia continued to gasp and tense under my hands, quite unlike Natasha's blushing submission! I suppose, Jack, that it would never do for an adolescent rebel like Julia to submit tamely to obedience-training imposed by her elders and betters! Be that as it may, she was no more able to resist the tickling of the little fountain-nozzle than the younger girl had been. Once more the grateful sponge was well-supplied. On my command, Julia's backside paid its tribute to the rubber-gloved hands. The provision of warm water was ampler in Julia's case than in Natasha's. Presently she lay defeated, shining wet from her own torrent. The morning ritual, which had lasted an hour, was almost over. Despite the extreme lewdness of what had been done to the two girl-pupils my stern moral diatribe had justified everything. I took a dry sponge and wiped the two pairs of thighs, hips, and rear cheeks until the moisture had almost gone. Taking perfumed powder in my hand, I rubbed it first over Natasha's bareness and then Julia's. I was most careful to work it into each little swell of pussy-flesh. Need I tell you, Jack, that the same powder contains a stimulant-irritant if you prefer-which would set up a virulent itch of longing in each girl's cunt? “Pull your knickers up, Natasha!” I said sharply, “Put your skirt on! Straighten those little white ankle-socks! Brush your hair into place! Straighten your tie!…

Julia, you young slut! Pull your panties up as well! And those jeans!

Show me the rear view. Ah yes, Julia! You like to parade through the streets in those tight pants, don't you? Do you do it to excite yourself- or to excite the men who see you? Or is it perhaps both?

Well, my two little bitches, today you shall walk in the grounds of the villa and no further. To save you from trying to play truant, you will find that the gates are locked and that the railings are tipped with sharp spikes to prevent you climbing over!” I dismissed them from their morning toilet but, as you will soon guess, I watched their activities closely while they walked in the sunlit alleys of the gardens. Knowing the grounds as well as I do, it was a simple matter to follow and spy upon them through the interstices of leaves and branches. The irritant powder rubbed into their cunt-flesh was working well. Indeed, I noticed that Julia was furtively touching herself through the tight denim of her jeans even before they left the washroom! As the erotic torment increased, they would grow desperate for relief and-I hoped-would perform some most lascivious antics.

And yet, Jack, let me be the first to admit that I had not reckoned upon the ingenuity of Julia. So used to running with the louts of the town, there is no whore in Piccadilly who has a surer instinct for sniffing out a stiff young prick-as if her nose could pick it up a mile away. Not an hour had passed before Julia was conversing with four young ruffians though the strong iron railings.

Natasha, as usual, stood back a little. She still played the part of the prim little prig. It was at a place where the line of the railings formed a right-angle, an unfrequented corner of the grounds. It was a scene of bonfires and compost heaps, silent as a rule but for the drone of summer flies. The four boys talked to Julia in broken English, supplemented by sign language. Even at fifteen, with her hard young face and short spiked crop of dark hair, Julia looked a whore.

Now there was no doubt. One of the lads unbuttoned and took out his prick. Natasha blushed at this, but Julia smiled. There was no way in which the young penis could embed itself in Julia's cunt or arse. The railings are two inches thick. Even if Julia spread her thighs or arse-cheeks right against the rails on her side, it would be hard for the lad to penetrate her. Yet they soon made a lovers' compact.

Julia was to bend over alongside one line of the corner railings, her face pressed to the other. It was simple for her to push her nose and lips through the gap a little and, indeed, to reach through with her hands in order to fondle their pricks. At the same time, the boys could walk round to the side of her as she bent, manualising her tits, cunt, and backside. In ten minutes more, one of the boys had taken down Julia's jeans and panties. With one hand he milked her cunt gently, the forefinger of his other hand up her arse. Another boy had worked his hand up inside her singlet to fondle her adolescent bubbies. Julia's healthy young cunt lubricated plentifully and she squirmed her hips in grateful ecstasy. She took the prick or an innocent young boy in her palm and stroked its limpness as if it had been a pet bird. When the young cock raised its head a little and stood proudly, Julia drew it to her mouth, rounded her lips, and began to suck gently up and down the pale shaft. Natasha, desperate to masturbate and relieve her erotic itch, was too bashful to do so openly. Yet she let the boys coax her to the railings and even went so far as to reach through and fondle a young penis. She did it wonderingly, for it was almost the first of these fabulous beasts that our little explorer had seen in reality. Despite the torment between her legs, our demure blonde could not quite bring herself to do what was necessary. Happily, the young ruffians decided the matter for both girls. Natasha's wrists-and Julia's-were suddenly held firm on the outside of the bars. Pulling the two girls forward by their arms, the boys looped a rough noose round each young neck. In a moment more, Julia and Natasha were bending side by side, mouths at the bars of their improvised prison, their bodies in easy grip of the lads who walked round to one side. The muddy pallor of Julia's bottom and thighs was already bare. Now it was the young blonde's navy-blue skirt which came down, followed by Natasha's cotton briefs. Julia, of course, was used to sucking the pricks of the boys in the town and continued to give the lad a good time with her agile tongue. But what of our prim little blonde? Natasha stared aghast when the youthful erection presented its knob insolently to her lips. Twisting her head vainly, she mewed her refusal through pressed lips. But one of the other boys reached through and began to manualise the desperately itching little clitoris and vaginal lips. A heavy odour of boudoir soap rose from the bare legs and hips of the two girls in the warm day. Despite her elfin slimness, one lad wished to touch up Natasha's bare arse and legs with the smouldering tip of a stick in order to make her obey. The others were wiser than he. Already she was giving out whimpering gasps of relief at the fondling and her little cunt shed its first pearly tears of lubrication into the boy's hand.

“Suck the prick, Natasha,” he said gently as he fondled her. “In ten years time or less you'll be a bride- and your husband will certainly make you do it. You might just as well learn the art of it now!” Natasha gave a little whine of refusal. The boy drew his hand away. “In that case, Natasha, you must not expect the caresses of others.” She gave a cry of despair as the virulent erotic itch now reasserted its power, unappeased. In vain she tried to rub her cunt-lips between her legs. “Suck the prick, Natasha, if you want me to fondle you,” said the boy with a laugh. Natasha turned her head to the bars, the blue eyes and sulky young face so self-pitying under the blond fringe. The lad who presented his erection to her lips took the chignon of her soft hair and held her steady. As if obliged to avoid suffocation, Natasha opened her mouth and allowed the youthful penis to enter. The other boy returned his hand between her legs. He felt Natasha shudder with gratitude as the masturbation was resumed. Throughout the long summer afternoon, Julia and Natasha remained bending. Each boy who waited his turn to be sucked frigged his pupil, while his predecessor was tantalised by the loving lips and tongue. A girl who takes the spurts of male sperm down her throat is said in Berlin to “drink a toast to Cupid” or “to drink Cupid's milk.” So the gentle voices of that warm day charted the girls' progress in debauchery. “Suck the prick again, Julia…

Natasha, drink another toast to Cupid… Wait for a moment, Julia. I must smack your bottom for you, you little whore!… Natasha! Drink another toast to Cupid!… No cheating, Julia! Swallow down your pride!… I had not the heart, dear Jack, to interrupt young love's innocent frolics! Between them, Julia and Natasha must have consumed almost a pint of Cupid's nourishment that afternoon. They returned and dined upon more orthodox victuals. When it was almost time to send them to bed, I ordered them instead to the fateful room with the convenient marble demonstration-table. Perhaps by now they were too weary even to protest at the removal of skirt and jeans, as well as their white stretched briefs. Yet it was not I, Jack, who attended them now. They were bathed with most orthodox warm water and soap, washed from toe to top and elegantly perfumed, by the hands of Sonja and Petra. There was no severity, you understand, only the most loving attention. They were like sisters together, rather than mistress and slave. From the next room I heard Sonja's gentle tones.

“Turn over on your tummy now, Natasha! Relax the cheeks of your bottom properly, my little pet!” And then the washing and the towelling continued, followed by the perfume spray. Presently the voice resumed, more humourously. “What thick fleece between your legs, Julia! Open your thighs a little wider. We must trim some of that away. Lie still, my dear! No, I shall not shave it all away. But you must have it trimmed a little. Like this. You see? What was there to make such a fuss about?” You will draw your own conclusions, Jack, when I assure you that this “bathing session” lasted quite as long as the morning toilet had done. I will not weary you with the many unnecessary strokings and partings inflicted on our two young pupils by my own pair of bitches! I will only add this. Natasha and Julia occupy two single beds in the same room. The next morning, the maid reported to me a curious fact. (She is an old family servant and utterly to be trusted.) One of the beds had not been slept in. The sheets of the other were much disordered and bore upon them the sort of blemishes which she had never been accustomed to find except when passionate young married couples had been our guests. As for the rest, I have now had Julia and Natasha on the marble table every morning for a week and my routine never varies. The doors of all other such rooms are locked against them and the key is in my pocket. Their protests and struggles grow less each day. I swear they are learning the gratification of their own wetness on the sponge and of the soapy finger which enforces the performance of certain acts. Despite her high-school education, Julia has the tastes of a whore, and Natasha may be trained the same way. They will not, of course, become whores-unless slavery to one master under captivity be such! But only think, Jack, of what I said at the beginning. Had I begged them to take down their knickers and let me fiddle with them, to have sex-fun with them, as they say… Imagine! Parents, teachers, police would have vied with one another to destroy me. But I talk only of cleanliness and decency, of manners and discipline. What is the result? Each morning the girls wallow in the grossest lewdness on the marble table. Their arseholes are opened on the soapy finger and the gloved hands receive the tribute. They are sponged over in their own fountain-water and then perfumed so heavily that a French brothel would wince at its power. They are left powdered with an irritant that drives them to masturbation on the table as soon as I leave the room.

And yet I am spoken of as a martinet, a lady of irreproachable moral strictness and personal severity. Parents, teachers, and police are my greatest admirers. Profit by my example, dearest Jack, for in it lies your only true safety and pleasure! I almost persuade myself that I really am a moralist-and no libertine, after all! Your loving Dolly.