Maudie: revelations of life in London

86
CHAPTER NINE

Charlie, wakening a little heavy-eyed, sought solace in the bathing pool. Maudie was there before him, and-well- he couldn't help it; he satisfied his lust on the green sward 'midst the song of the breeze and the birds in the boughs.

When he came back to his room he found Jeannie there, prettily posed on the edge of the bed.

Charlie kissed her, and felt her, and pressed his face languorously against her soft, hot cheeks, but beyond that he dared not go. He had fucked Maudie by the waterside, and it had been lovely-Maudie improved every time, and took more out of him every time, but what this day might bring about, and what might be expected of him he could only conjecture. He knew it would be pretty hot, and he felt he must keep fit.

Little Jeannie shuddered convulsively in his arms, and finally openly begged him to fuck her. He had only been in his shirt when he came in, and she lifted it right up to his breasts, looking lovingly and longingly at his cock.

'Darling, darling,' she implored, 'do, do fuck me. I shall be ill, horribly ill, if you don't. I know you've been at it already but can't you spare just a little bit for me, just a very quick one?'

'Dear girl,' answered the perplexed Charlie, wanting it, and yet wanting not to want it, 'I have been at it, and I want you again, you know I do'-it was obvious, his cock was gun-barrel stiff-'but I shall kill myself if l go on like this.'

She dropped on her knees before him, and snatched a kiss on the glans. That settled Charlie. It had to be.

'Very well, you little devil,' he said, 'I give in, but it's got to be a very wicked one. Run quick, and fetch Luigi.'

Luigi came, rather wondering-eyed, and very picturesque in the Sicilian peasant's costume which he always wore now. Charlie banged the door and locked it: this was to be entirely a seance a trois.

His eyes gleamed in a way which rather frightened Jeannie, and as he took a birch made of dried seaweed from a cupboard, she began to be scared.

'You've got to go through it,' he said, roughly. 'Luigi, undress her and beat her.'

It did seem a shame, when that ravishing body was all naked, that scarlet lines must be traced across the pretty olive skin, but Charlie felt like that. He was half genuinely angry that the girl should have tempted him, and half lustfully cruel. It was going to be sadism and blunt, brutal wish to punish combined.

'You, too, Luigi, get yourself stark.'

The boy obeyed.

They made a handsome couple, and Charlie's lust was for a moment overcome by his artistic sense.

He took a hand camera, found a position for it on the top of the commode stand, and posed the two. It was difficult to avoid the boy's very rigid cockstand, but clever draping did this, and with a plain grey screen behind them, they were naked shepherd and shepherdess to the life, and the shutter clicked.

His artistic thoughts had tamed his lust for the moment: his member was no longer rampant, and he was thinking more of breakfast than fucking-but then the timid bending of the pretty girl over the bed, her bottom raised, shiveringly expectant of the stroke, fired him again.

'Give her five, Luigi, quick,' he cried.

The boy, savage-eyed also now, flicked the stinging twigs with a sharp twist of the wrist over the girl's flesh. Twice, thrice, he struck, and at the fourth blow the blood came.

'That'll do,' cried Charlie; 'come here, Luigi, and suck me.'

Poor Jeannie stared aghast-was she to have nothing then?

This was sadism with a vengeance, and Charlie revelled in it as he saw the girl's pitiful eyes, while he felt the warm embrace of the boy's lips on his penis.

He spent very quickly, but he hardly felt any actual sensual pleasure. His delight was in watching the girl's pain. Her skin must be smarting badly now, he knew, from the after-sting of the blows'-but more than that, what must she be suffering from the lust she felt, and the sight of its object being stolen from her by another? 'Keep it in,' he ordered, and he filled the boy's mouth with the hot juice, 'close your teeth on it. Now, Jeannie, kiss him, and drink my love juice from him.'

The girl did. She kissed the handsome boy with a long tenacious kiss, and she sucked all the sperm from his mouth, her eyes longingly and expectantly fixed on Charlie all the time.

Finished, she threw back her head with a jerk and gulped it. 'There,' she cried, 'my health to you.'

'Well, you've had what you wanted, my spunk in you. You can't say I haven't given you my fluid of life. Now you can dress yourself and go. Luigi, stop here and shave me.'

There was an evil glint in the girl's eyes, but she said no word and dressed hastily. Charlie did not even turn his head to look at her as she left the room.

Outside she cursed him deeply and bitterly and long. What should be her revenge she could not quite decide.

The sports were to be early. They didn't want any unexpected visitors from town, and the company was strictly limited to the people we have met already-with one exception.

A strange young man with an engaging manner managed somehow to get into the grounds and recalled himself to Tubby as an old school friend. Tubby had only a hazy recollection, but the man was so nice and seemed such a sport, and seemed to know so many people Tubby knew; Tubby was flustered and hadn't the heart to turn him out.

Maudie's lawn, as we have before met it, ran down to the river, and was fairly visible to passing water traffic, but there was a portion, a long green alley between great trees, which was completely shut off from any possibility of observation. It was admirably suited for the great race.

First came a pretty flapper race. The girls had to run fifty yards, undress fully and race back. It was won very easily by the Titian-haired nymph whose Venusberg had been preserved intact. She led at the turn, her clothes came of her in a trice and she raced back laughing, her red locks floating behind her.

There was a bicycle handicap for the boys and the flappers, all nude-it is surprising how sexy a naked girl looks on the saddle of a bicycle-and a match between May and Elsie. They had to run twenty-five yards, toss off the two menservants-a judge was present to see it properly done-and run back. Elsie won easily.

Then came the event: the contest for the flower of Toinette.

It was nicely stage-managed.

In a great china bowl, full of heavy-scented dried rose petals, sat Toinette, fully dressed, in a dead black costume relieved only by a silver belt, silver garters below the knees and a silver collar. In her hand she held a laurel wreath. Her hair was straightly and severely brushed, and for ornament she wore only a silver butterfly, streaked with creme de menthe green.

Quite close to her was the young man who had introduced himself as Tubby's friend. He had a camera in his hand.

One hundred yards away the runners waited. All, even the general, wore proper running clothes-a hasty motel expedition to Windsor had secured them.

From the start the general made the pace hot. He had put half a bottle of Martell Three Star down him, and reckoned that would just carry him through. Tubby panted in his rear; the poet galloped rather than ran; the two strangers were quickly outclassed; and Phil and Charlie were closing with the leaders.

With ten yards to go, Tubby had the general beat, but he could almost feel Charlie's breath on his shoulders. A superhuman effort flung him across the tape, a bare foot ahead of Charlie, the general beating Phil for place money by inches.

Tubby's friend clicked his camera shutter once more, grinned, and went.

Outside the gates he met a friend with a low-slung racing car.

'Well?' said the friend, as the photographer climbed in.

'First stop, Carmelite House, and you can put the Agapemone scoop inside this.'

Whilst the general was being violently ill among the trees, Tubby carried his little black and silver trophy, all vibrant with emotion-she had prayed for Charlie's victory-back to the pavilion.

There was a throne for her there, a black velvet dais, and there she sat while Maudie presented her with?1,750 in a plain oaken casket, with the name Toinette set in opals fringed with diamonds.

It was up to Tubby. He had 'doped' himself before the race, and helped himself very considerably to Martell and Mumm afterwards.

Toinette was his. After the ceremony of health drinking, she slipped her little black-gloved hand through his arm, and smiled up at him. He waggled as he walked back to the house with her. She made no pause, but led him straight to her bedroom.

Tubby walked rather sheepishly and vacuously to the window. He heard the girl click the key in the lock.

She turned on him with a radiant smile-she was sorrowful at heart that it had not been Charlie, but at any rate she was going to get rid of this tiresome maidenhead at last. She supposed it would hurt, but she was no coward, and she knew that ever afterwards it would be nice.

'Aren't you going to kiss me? I'm all yours for the present, you know.'

Tubby kissed her rather awkwardly, he wasn't much used to vice with such a young girl, and this very up-to-date, chic little Parisian flapper rather scared him. Also he was a little drunk, and he was painfully conscious that it was odds on he would be impotent.

However, he was as gallant as possible. He played with the little darling's still-stockinged legs, long silk stockings which came very near to the place of joy itself; he fingered her cunt, and he put his head up her clothes and kissed it, before he started to undress her. He tried all he knew to get randy, but he couldn't.

He would have given pounds to have been downstairs in a comfortable smoking-room chair with a brandy and soda.

She was all bubbling with lust, and shook with anticipation as he undressed. The naked beauty of the girl as she lay back eager-eyed on the bed should have roused any man to a state of frenzied lust, but Tubby's cock when he took off his trousers and revealed it, was a pitiable object, and Toinette stared in horrified amazement.

Blushing and ashamed, Tubby sank on the bed beside his victim designate, and tried by kissing and embracing to stimulate some passion. With the deft aid of the girl's fingers something in the nature of a cockstand appeared. Little Toinette gave every help: smoothed his head, his limbs, darted her hot tongue in his mouth, and eventually the end of his cock was guided into a hot, juicy little cunt.

Once it was in Tubby felt a flicker of sensuality, but soon realised it was hopeless, and resorted to strategy. Attempting some vigorous strokes which didn't get his flaccid battering ram near the expectant gate, he crushed the little darling in his arms, and made belief that he had come, and she was deflowered.

Toinette had her doubts. There had been no pain, and where was the expected blood?

Tubby elaborately sponged her, and told her what she thought was a lie, but what was really the truth, that she was the first virgin he had ever been into. Then he made a cheap excuse to go, and fled to solace himself in drink.

He was greeted with rounds of applause by the other contestants. He told a few lies about his prowess, and got rapidly drunk.

Little Toinette, vaguely disappointed, dressed, and wandered out to the garden, where she found Charlie alone, reading Candide.

He was delighted to see her and they strolled down to the bathing place.

She told Charlie she didn't think much of being seduced. 'However, it may be better next time, and I can have anyone now.'

It was a direct invitation, and Charlie made no bones about it. Like lightning he stripped himself and the child, and the two naked bodies rolled in ecstasy on the soft mattresses.

Charlie's cock was so stiff that it was almost painful. They didn't waste time on preliminaries. Her eyes wild, almost savage, with passion, she guided it in, and Charlie gave a great thrust.

'Oh, oh!' she shrieked, 'you are killing me; it's awful; it wasn't like this with Tubby.'

Charlie took no notice. He thrust brutally on, till at last he felt that the obstacle had vanished. Toinette's maidenhead was fairly and squarely broken. She had borne the pain bravely, but her eyes were streaming with tears as Charlie withdrew a penis dripping with blood.

'Why, the damned fool never seduced you at all,' he cried.

'I have been the first, the very first, my darling.'

He wiped the blood from her tom little cunt-she had bled freely-and fetched her champagne.

Arriving back, they found the house in turmoil. Servants rushed hither and thither, the old general fussed and fumed, Maudie was hysterical, and Tubby had collapsed.

'Whatever's the matter?' cried Charlie.

'Matter, good God, man,' answered young Phil Learoyd, 'that young stranger at the sports was a Daily Mirror reporter and photographer. I was motoring up to town and found him broken down. He didn't recognise me in my goggles, and I overheard his talk to his pal. He's got photos of everything, and what's worse, he knows what we were racing for, and he means to publish it.'

'There's only one way out,' said Maudie tearfully. 'Luckily, I've always been prepared. The yacht is in full commission; I've just telephoned to Southampton to get steam up. The motors are all ready, and we've got to bundle into' em and be off. A few months' cruise for the benefit of our health won't do us any harm. The motors'll carry all the baggage we want, and there are plenty of spare clothes on board.'

It was a hurried night. The great cars tore down the pleasant road to Southampton, to find Tubby's magnificent steam yacht, the Lesbia, with steam full up and everything ready. By dinner time they were well out at sea.

The stockbroker could not possibly leave England, and Maudie had arranged for him to go to Land's End and pick them up on the wireless with news as to what was in the papers.

At four o'clock on the following day the message came through.

It was worse than expected.

Both the Daily Mail and Mirror had full accounts, only hinting, of course, at the naked-flapper events, but hinting strongly that there had been scenes of unmentionable depravity. The race, of course, was described in full detail, and the fact that the prize was a young woman's virtue was severely commented on. Each article ended with an impassioned appeal to the powers that be and the British public to rise up and destroy this hell, this monstrosity, this blot upon 'England.

'The Mirror, ' ran the message, 'has got two pages of photos, and states that they have others, too indecent to print, which they will gladly supply for purposes of prosecution.'

There was a general chorus of groans.

'I should like to see those photos,' said Charlie.

'So should I,' said Tubby.

'Well,' said Maudie, 'we'll risk it. We'll hang off the Land's End, and Phil can nip into Penzance this evening in the motor launch and get the papers.'

Phil returned that night with a sheaf of papers.

'1 kept my goggles on,' he said, 'and my collar up, as I thought my face might be in the pictures, and by God it is. I've bought all I could. Lord, there is a rush for 'em. I popped into one or two bars, still keeping my goggles on, and the place is ringing with it, probably all England is now. The general opinion is that burning is too good for us.'

The papers were eagerly scanned; it was awful. The Mirror had four photos of the big race, an especially good one of the finish, in which the faces of all the runners were distinct, and an excellent one of Tubby leading off his little prize. There was a picture of the house, 'Hell Castle', as the writer dubbed it, and snapshots of Maudie, Madame Rade, and several other individuals. The groups taken before the race began included nearly everyone.

There were no names, but at the bottom of the page was an appeal to the public to come forward and identify the characters.

'Oh Lord,' gasped the general, 'this means a long cruise for us.'

'We're very heavily victualed,' said Maudie. 'I vote we make for the islands in the Pacific.'

Accordingly, a course was set. But before they had made the Horn, one dark night a large vessel overhauled them and signalled them to stop.

'Full steam ahead,' said Charlie, 'we've got the heels of anything but a destroyer.'

But the strange vessel seemed to steam two to their one, and the message came, 'Stop or we sink you.'

A moment later a shell screamed overhead, followed by two more placed neatly to port and starboard.

After a hurried council they gave up. The strange vessel came close alongside, and dropped a launch. In a few moments several elegant young men and a young girl dressed as a middy were on deck.

'What does this mean?' spluttered Tubby.

'Piracy, my dear sir, piracy-simple, unabashed piracy. Why, it's Tubby. Well, Tubby, we can't even spare our friends in this business. Fork out.'

Charlie came forward.

'Look here, St Ed-'

'No names, please,' snapped the young man.

'Well, I don't know what your game is, but look here, old chap, we're fugitives from justice too, and if you collar all we've got, God knows what'll happen to us.'

'Tell me,' he said.

For answer Charlie took him into the chart-room and showed him the papers.

The young man was deeply interested.

'That alters the circumstances altogether,' he said, 'and it's a dashed good job for you you ran against me. I've got an island no one in the world bar ourselves knows of: we could do with some more congenial inhabitants. It's obvious you can't go back to England, so you come with me. I'll send you a couple of steersmen on board to give you your course. You pop over and have dinner with me, and we'll talk things over. You know who I am, and why I left England. We're all in the same boat over there, all gentlemen. You'll have good time.'

Well, it was arranged, to the immense relief of the passengers of the Lesbia, and the two yachts set off in company, southward bound.