Julie

11

Editor's Note:

Having received this intelligence, one wonders muchly what has happened to Maude. Perhaps much of the same that happened to Sylvia, but without such “ceremonials”! We shall see, perhaps. Meanwhile, Madam is replying to Caroline, after several weeks during which she has evidently been much occupied.

My dearest Caroline,

Forgive my silence. I enjoyed your last letter so very much that in the end I retired with it, finding bed the best place in which to read it all. Dear Sylvia-how well she did, and how well you managed the affair! Your honesty about the “devils of desire” was indeed praiseworthy. Such happens to all of us at times. I am what I believe is called a feminist and hence entirely on the side of women all the time-though they do not always believe it at first! Even so, I must also give praise to Dick who comported himself well and did not lustfully seek to forage between your thighs while so happily engaged in Sylvia's bottom. That speaks of a certain discipline in him which I would not otherwise have known about. In refusing the silent offer of your own body close to his during Sylvia's bottom-tupping, he absorbed himself very properly in his true task and-as it appeared- read the writing on the wall as to the way she wished to receive him. I do trust that you may encourage her to occasionally repeat her “formal exercises,” for they can be truly delightful. Most males are far too greedy for what they wish to have, and hence go too hasty to the matter and spoil it all. Would that Dick might visit here again, for now that I know his character better he could well induce several of my girls to have their bottoms, at least, anointed. No one can discern virginity in that particular respect which-as I have hinted to several of my more advanced pupils-is very useful! So you see, I have nothing to upbraid you for at all, and would praise the reserve you showed on both the first and second occasions. What of Alison, now that you are back at home? Have you heard of her or from her? I perceive that her guardian-although well furnished at his loins-might become a bore to her, though she may not mind that much so long as he is otherwise treating her well. He promised in front of me to cozen her in all material respects. Should you chance to visit them, or make excuse to do so, be an angel (as you truly are!) and observe whether or not this is being done. As to the little tale to which you refer, it occurred some months ago and proved, among other things, extremely handy for two of my girls, Suzanne and Emily. The one is dark, and the latter fair, and they are much taken with, each other, which I do not mind at all! Both are eighteen and have weathered all my tests even-as such I reserve for just the most advanced-to entertaining dildos in their bottoms. These are the slender, velvet-covered ones that you know about and, being not too great in girth, do not alarm the girls too much but ease them nicely into their future fate-or one of them, at least! I should tell you, by the by, that about a year ago a couple came from Surrey to see me, accompanied by their daughter, whom they intended to place with me.

What they expected, I do not know, for they were absolutely not the kind that I wish to entertain Or be associated with. They were vulgar, my dear, and nouveau riche, the father being in the railway business or something contingent. I allowed them to see me at my worst-quite deliberately, of course, and they departed taking their coddled and plump daughter with them. In that there was no loss to me! The recent occasion has been quite different. Sir Bertram (as I had best discreetly call him) announced by letter his impending arrival together with his wife and daughter. His letter was of good address, of course. I mused upon it. By some whim also he had inserted with his letter a photograph of the daughter, Dorothy (such dull names do you English give your girls!). I was taken with her. Suzanne and Emily were permitted to muse upon her likeness and uttered certain noises of enthusiasm. “I would love to cuddle her!” Suzanne declared.

Tut-tut, she was scarce sixteen, I said-for so the letter described. I but pretended to prudery, of course, in respect of age. Some girls of fifteen are perfectly ripe for the cock-some not. One judges as one finds! “Let her come! Shall you, Madam?” begged Emily, with I all the time pursing up my lips. What had Sir Bertram and his wife heard of my methods, my approach, I wondered? Would they come in great naivety and then flounce off as the others had? The idea came to me then that I would first entertain them out of doors, which is to say at a picnic. I revealed my plans to Suzanne and Emily, and the reasons thereof. They clapped! So it was arranged. On the appointed day a great picnic basket was prepared- I taking sole charge of the wines for the purpose you may already guess. We attired ourselves suitably in white and pink, with frilled dresses, parasols, and long white gloves. Suzanne and Emily were hard put not to giggle often. I had to admonish them severely while we waited. Then was I put to deliberate mendacity, for upon the arrival of Sir Bertram's carriage from Paris, I opened the doors and pretended great alarm. My secretary, I said, had given me the wrong date. I had expected them on the morrow, I went on. Allowing them no time to recover from this, and finding Sir Bertram seemingly enchanted by the appearance of my two damsels, I went on to say that our picnic spot was but two miles hence and that in order to make mutual acquaintance we might all repair there. My own carriage also being waiting, this was done. Oh, but my goodness, you do not want such “mundane details,” dear, so I'll continue fast. We found our sward in a well-hedged meadow and there settled. Dorothy proved even prettier than her likeness and a perfect little cherub. Her Mama, Anthea, was of slightly stouter stock but not less comely for that and had-as I soon saw-good legs. Sir Bertram himself was tallish, quite imposing, and near to a gentleman as might be. I will not bore you however with all the preambles, during which I discoursed very carefully indeed upon the curriculum at my establishment. The presence of Suzanne and Emily, their attractive forms and faces and the general merriment in their expressions did more to advertise myself than I could do, for they were clearly in the best of health, came from good families, and were patently enjoying all their days at St. Germain-en-Laye, as Sir B. himself remarked (not failing to twinkle at both!). Well now-I really must confess to you, sweet Caroline, that I could have let all be and quite easily drawn Dorothy into my sphere of influence. A mischief was upon me, though. Perhaps the warm sun, the blue sky, and the splendid wine had something to do with it. That which I was about to venture was something I had never done before. My general rule is that parents should be neither seen nor heard once their daughters, nieces, wards, or whatever, are safe within my walls until I am satisfied that tuition has run its course. Such as happened to Blanche, to Alison, and a few others is rare. “In the main the girls return to England with their cunnies still virgin even though they may have been dildoed in their bottoms. Even so, their cunnies by then pout for attention and, I am sure, receive it as soon as can be discreetly arranged, for if that is not the prime purpose for which they are sent here, then all my time is wasted! Perhaps I did feel that Dorothy was a trifle too young, for it is essential that girls should mature in their minds as much as their bodies in certain respects-and you know well enough those to which I refer. I am told that I am a philosopher, which I suppose is true. I do not mind a girl being bedded by her sire provided she is eager for a bout and knows what she is at. My tuition generally ensures the latter but does not stipulate the former! I see you smile behind your hand and do admit to a little hypocrisy in this, but in the end I must say that it is up to the girls themselves. I send them back cock-ready, it is true; that is my task. But I hear you scolding me (if you dare!) and telling me to get on with my tale. Very well. I had decided to give Dorothy a lesson that no other girl has ever been afforded here. In other words, she was to have an exceedingly practical education, while I in turn would garner in and teach her lovingly all that she needed to know. Hence, our cold collation having been consumed, I opened my “special” bottle of wine and dispensed some to Sir Bertram and his wife. I then replaced the bottle quickly in the picnic basket (the lid being up and concealing it from them) as if I had forgotten to serve myself. Sir Bertram-having laughingly reminded me of this-I withdrew an ordinary bottle which to their eyes looked the same. As for Dorothy, she received-as my two pupils did-a seemingly innocent sarsaparilla, the colour of which concealed the very slightest touch of aphrodisiac.

Just enough to make them sparkle, as you would say! The dosage I had secretly given Dorothy's parents was quick to take effect. Her Mama, Anthea, sank back upon the grass saying rather blearily, “I feel… I feel…” Her arms hung limp. She appeared comatose, as Sir Bertram-joining her in a prone position literally shoulder to shoulder-also did, but I knew that this was but to conceal the extreme state of arousal she V was feeling. Her nipples already thrust vividly into the cloth of her gown, indenting the material sharply. There was a flush upon her cheeks. In a manner that she would never otherwise have dreamed of doing, her legs hung apart and stirred uneasily. Her hands fluttered. She dearly wished to play with herself! Sir Bertram, as you may imagine, was in similar condition. His penis thrust up mightily into his trousers and none could miss the violent projection-not, least of all, Dorothy who stared at it and then looked away, her mouth open. Suzanne immediately slipped one arm about her waist. Sir Bertram groaned and laid one hand upon his wife's nearest thigh. I distinctly saw him feeling her stocking top. Her legs opened more. “You feel sleepy,” said I, “it is the wine, the sun. Close your eyes awhile, as we shall, too. Then we shall repair back to the school.” My words were carefully chosen, for I wished them to remember them. Such as are persuaded by dint of chemistry and Nature into these naughty ways, and whose veins boil for fulfillment, are often easily persuaded afterwards that all that they experienced was a dream. Since none of them have ever behaved in that way before, this is easily achieved. Besides, my words were meant also for Dorothy whose own swelling gourds had swelled the more now that she had imbibed her rosy drink. Her head rested on Suzanne's shoulders.

Emboldened, the latter moved her arm around her further and cupped one budding tit in her palm. Rising then, I knelt beside Sir Bertram whose eyelashes fluttered. He gazed up at me most imploringly and even made bold (while still caressing his wife's thigh) to fondle my own full tits. Of course, I let him. Anything to increase his state of excitation! “I say!” he blurted. My lips moved down to his ear.

“Sir Bertram, you are dreaming,” I whispered. At that he uttered a huge sigh and jerked his hips desiringly. Seeing that, I reached over, took Anthea's limp hand that was nearest to his hip and, raising it, laid it full upon his vigourously pulsing cock. Suzanne and Emily were silent, as I had told them to be. I wished Dorothy to remember no naughty words from us. My blood was up, I do confess. What a bizarre happening, and yet I wished it to be! In the eyes of Dorothy-which now and then were cunningly veiled by Suzanne, who raised the girl's lips to kiss her-I was but settling her parents-making them comfortable. Such a word then left my lips as I rarely use. Poising my face between their two heads, I murmured, “You may fuck together in your dream if you wish.” I must say that I scarce had need to add such a crudity! Anthea was already massaging her husband's prick. His was gathering up her skirt after his brief foray with my straining breasts. Moving back on my knees and concealing my movements from Dorothy, I loosed the straining buttons at the front of his trousers. A full banana of flesh thereupon sprang out. He groped blindly for me again, but I retracted my hips whereupon, finding his cock freed, he rolled upon his wife and with much grabbing and grunting bared her to her hips. I will not describe the act that followed, Caroline. It was not of the prettiest, nor the most exciting. It sufficed however for my purpose. Leaning against Suzanne and rocking all about in quite a fever of arousal, Dorothy was being caressed everywhere by the two. Her drawers had been deftly removed, and these I gathered up and tossed into the picnic basket. After all, we had finished eating! “Not too much,” I warned the girls, Suzanne's hand being busy under Dorothy's skirt and Emily having unbuttoned the girl's corsage to show the perfect young melons of her titties whose brown nipples were most suitably erect.

“Mmmmmm…!” Dorothy hummed betwixt kisses. Betwixt kisses also she took in sufficient of what was happening before her-over the grass-laid tablecloth, as it were-to answer several questions that might of late have been buzzing in her head. Certainly she saw the swollen cock and where its pleasure was. Even so, I was alert to all.

“Take Dorothy to the school and we will follow on,” said I, well knowing that the walk would clear the young girl's head before she was brought to say farewell to her parents. In this I was immediately obeyed. I am sure that they wanted to get the cherub on their own in any case! Even as they rose, Sir Bertram expelled his juice, which I knew by his groaning and the quivering of his buttocks. The pair lay enlaced and quiet. By the time they had aroused themselves and were once more conscious of the world, I too had gone out of their sight, no doubt leaving them in much wondering but also giving them time to repair themselves. I wandered only to the meadow's edge, in fact, and there concealed myself, watching, with an amusement by no means tinged with malice, their endeavours to regain a state of decency Then I reappeared. Fortunately they did not see me at first, but upon their doing so I waved and came upon them, making all appearances of being breathless. “The girls decided to walk back while you slept. I accompanied them part of the way. Are you well rested now? It was the sun, the wine, and the journey, you know,” I said with much sympathy on my face while then unconcernedly kneeling to pack up the picnic basket. “Eh? What? Yes! Oh yes, Madam!” came from Sir Bertram, who, like his good wife, could not help but gaze down in great wonderment that he was all in one piece and covered up. My bland expression revealed, as it seemed to them, that all was normal and that each had enjoyed the most vivid of dreams.. Fortunate it was, I might say, that the lady had been revealed as wearing split drawers (so convenient for the toilet, and for other things), which had assisted their mutual efforts greatly! “The sun, the wine,”

Anthea repeated faintly and sought to tidy her hair. “Well, of course: I myself have fallen prey to both before now,” I replied in such a comforting tone that both almost looked pleased with themselves again. Recovering himself much, Sir Bertram then aided me in my packing of the picnic basket while his wife attended to her hair as best she could. I observed that the effects of my little potion still lasted, for he succeeded surreptitiously in caressing my bottom (as though by accident, of course) out of sight of his wife. Should I have given it the merest wriggle, or not? I decided on a middle course, which was to effect a movement of my hips that could have been taken one way or the other but which at the least bulged my warm cheeks into his palm for a moment. Naturally I maintained a placid look and averted my eyes from his! I then assisted Anthea in pinning-up her hair, which caused her to murmur in a pleased manner at my kindness. I was therefore “settled” in their eyes in two directions at once and Sir Bertram at least could look forward to such visits as he might wish to make to see how Dorothy was progressing. In so thinking, I counted upon their acceptance of my intended role in respect of their daughter and went out of my way to say tactfully that they might wish to take time to consider this. By that time my carriage had returned and we boarded it. “We-er-have no doubt that Dorothy will be in good hands,” Sir Bertram declared, mopping his brow while Anthea rubbed her thighs together still beneath her skirt and even cast me several winning looks! Naturally I was tempted to give them some more sport, but such would have been a little indiscreet, not to say dangerous, for the waves of passion had receded in them sufficiently to make any proposals of mine appear too obvious.

Declaring simply therefore that I would be delighted to take the very greatest care of her, all was settled. Paris beckoned them. They both still had a sufficient itch for the city which English people are pleased to think is more wicked than London! Within a short time they had departed, leaving Sir Bertram's cheque upon my desk. Dorothy had recovered from all the titillations she had received, though was still flushed. I regarded her, I might say, with some affection-and still do for she has become the veritable “mascot” of my establishment, and for several reasons. I have said that she is cherubic, which is true, for among all other things she is small of stature and deliciously well-proportioned with it. Her bubbies are firm and milky and her chubby derriere is a perfect delight. Such eyes she has, like pools of wonder, and a rosebud mouth to go with all!

Most fortunately her parents put down her slightly excited mood to her pleasure at being allowed to stay, in which respect all was very well indeed. Much as all the girls plainly adored her, I did not intend her to become their plaything. Not that there would have been anything malicious on their part (though they might have teased her overmuch), but I foresaw in some a not unnatural tendency to act towards her as I might do to them. To wit, she would acquire a confusing number of “teachers!” I therefore took her in with me, into the small bedroom immediately adjoining my own. Do I see a twinkle in your eye? You may quench it, you wretch! I have not been naughty with her at all save to cuddle her occasionally in my own warm bed and to give her a little tickle or two, which makes her sigh and cling to me.

I discovered very well that Suzanne and Emily had finger-teased her to distraction and talked to her of cocks and all such things. These little matters I also obtained from Dorothy herself while kissing her fondly and feeling her firm titties and all else. The girls were perfectly right to talk to her of such, I said, for she would learn more about them soon enough. “You have seen your Papas big thing.

How naughty he was!” I have said, but once or twice, to draw her out.

Each time that I have reminded her of that vivid occasion on the grass, she has giggled and snuggled into me, finding in me, I am sure, many of the attributes of a fond Mama (though younger than her own!), or an older sister, or a confidante. NO, I have not tongued her yet, though long to do so and will come to that a little later on with her, I know. I have reaped other rewards, as I am about to tell! You recall the amusing occasion when an Inspector of Schools came to visit? Dear Blanche paid the price for that, though not unwillingly, for she is very sportif! Well-a sequel occurred. Perhaps that wretched man still lurked in the background somewhere in the Department of Education, or had made some ill-advised comment to a colleague.

Whatever the case, within a month of Dorothy's arrival (though that in itself a coincidence and she being very well settled with me by then), another Inspector was announced. I received him haughtily. All the girls scurried to make themselves look “decent,” for since I sometimes let them dress (or undress!) as they wish, you know how they occasionally disport themselves, knowing very well that I will tingle up a few bottoms with my birch! Monsieur Piraud, as the new visitor was called, looked at first as dry and as officious as his predecessor had. He examined my curriculum-the public one, that is, and not the private one which I actually employ-and looked and sniffed all about.

There is no male born, of course, who is not susceptible to the sight of half-uncovered feminine limbs, and of these he saw several pairs on his first, unexpected entrance. I explained that the girls in question had been dancing. “Cavorting?” he had the impudence to counter. “It is not the same word, it does not have the same meaning, Monsieur, and it is not my practise to permit what you have just named,” said I crisply, at which he flushed a little for my tone was suitably sharp. At that moment Dorothy chose to erupt within my drawing room. I do spoil the dear child, I know, and she appeared in all innocence, not having been told that I was, as they say, in conference. She attends only such lessons as I think proper for her at this stage- which is to say French, deportment, the culinary arts, a little fashion, and so on. Consequently the naughty dear had not bothered to dress properly (this being in mid-morning) and wore only her drawers, stockings, a thin chemise, bootees, and a robe somewhat floating overall. To my fond eyes she looked absolutely delicious and quite eatable, showing the most appealing flash of thighs between the legs of her drawers and her stocking tops. “Oh!” she blurted upon seeing the gentleman, for they are rare enough within these walls. She put her finger in her mouth and gazed at him in such a wondrous, childish way (I believe she is old enough by now to know how to “put that on"), that I could hardly suppress a smile. Monsieur Piraud's face flushed at the sight of her- and well it might, for though Dorothy immediately gathered her robe about her, its manner of sheathing her sweet young curves only added to their attraction. “What is your name?” he asked, rising and gazing down at her. “Dorothy, Monsieur,” she replied winningly and gave me a slightly awed but not unexcited look. “And how old are you?” then came from him, he addressing himself to her in English as soon as he had divined her nationality. “I shall be sixteen soon,” Dorothy said winningly and ran then to my chair where I placed my arm about her waist.

The gentleman seemed to want to sit again, but could not bring himself to. He appeared to regard her sternly, though his eyes were not unseeking. The very manner in which Dorothy clutched her robe to her caused her two hands to seem to cup themselves invitingly just below her pussy. “She is, if I may say so, rather young for such an establishment,” said he. “Such an establishment? What do you mean by that, Monsieur?” I asked in bridling tones. No doubt he had made his own mental inventory of what might be my manners and my methods but could not actually put his fingers on them-which was just as well. “Er-that is to say, the other pupils are older. Is she not out of place?” he asked. “That may be your way of thinking, Monsieur, but it is not that of her father, Sir Bertram Mountjoy,” said I, deliberately letting the aristocratic tide drop. This stopped him in his tracks a little, but it was my angelic Dorothy who capped the matter, as you English say, and did so in all innocence-or if she did not is wiser than I know! “What is to do, Aunty?” she asked, and you may well wonder at such exclamation which arose from my sultry nights of cuddling her in bed when I have occasionally teased her and asked, “Am I not as an aunt might be to you?” You see, I have my many methods of psychology! She took thereafter to calling me that occasionally, though never in public before, for I think it would have made her shy to do so before the other girls. Or else, of course, she regarded it as our little secret, as young girls love to do. Whatever the case, the unconsidered appellation spilled out very nicely.

“Aunt?” echoed Monsieur Piraud, looking much put out. “Of course. What did you think?” I replied smoothly. Then, giving Dorothy a fond smack on her pert bottom told her to go and dress immediately and to have her milk. I thought that was a cunning touch, my dear!

This allowed for no more questions on his part, and indeed that which he had raised about her was weak enough. I suspected more and more then some collusion on his part with his predecessor. The latter had perhaps unguardedly said that there was a fine time to be had at my establishment if one knew the ways, but I intend to have no such male migrants coming though my doors. I have my reputation to consider!

I rose. I showed every intention of having him leave. “It is surely the custom, Monsieur, for official visits from your department to be preceded by a letter of intent,” I said. He regarded me stiffly (and, I suspect, defensively) and replied that such was not always necessary. “To common establishments and schools for children,” I said bitingly, “perhaps not, but this is a private college, Monsieur, and I shall require one in future. I shall write to your Minister upon the matter.” At that he swallowed and made towards the door. “It will not be necessary, Madam,” he said. I guided him past the open door of one of the rooms where I knew the girls would be sitting demurely, for they are well versed on such occasions. He could not fail to see how perfectly proper all looked. “Even so, it will put matters in order,” I told him and motioned him somewhat abruptly in the direction of the entrance door. “Yes,” he replied, though totally without conviction. I turned my back on him and walked away, showing him not the courtesy he might otherwise have received. The matter, however, gave me much to think about, for I foresaw a procession of such fellows in the future. Having pondered all possibilities over a glass of fine sherry, I came to a conclusion and called upon Jeannette, a most charming young creature who hails from Lyons where her parents have a fine mansion. She had been then with me for two months and knew my ways, was mischievous in all and thoroughly enjoying herself. It is comparatively rare for me to receive French girls. Most of mind, as you well know, are English. French girls are normally sent to establishments not unlike my own in Germany or elsewhere where the regimes are much stricter and their Mamas or other over-enquiring female relatives cannot too easily reach them. However, as to the subject of my private conversation with Jeannette and the consequences thereof, I must defer my news to next time, which I trust will not annoy you. I have so much to do!

Your loving Julie