Pauline

CHAPTER III

After something like a year-and-a-half, my voice had developed to a point where neither Vera nor my Sunday school teacher could have been of any assistance to me. Indeed, I had quite passed beyond both, and if I were to do anything about it at all, it would be necessary to go somewhere where I might gain the necessary finishing touches.

It had been arranged that I would go to Austria, where I would finish my musical education. Vienna being the popular place at that time, I was sent there. I was heartbroken when it came time to leave my parents and Vera, but I soon got over it, and I might add here that it was the only time in my whole life when I really felt bad about anything. I thought, too, that it would be dreadful to be cast among strangers in such a far off country. But to my surprise, I found it delightful.

Many other girls and young men were there, all studying voice. They were unusually nice to me, as were the aged instructors. One in particular was wonderfully patient with me.

Knowing that I had never been away from home before, he was sympathetic and anxious to make me comfortable. I spent a week in his home where both he and his delightful wife did everything possible to make my stay a pleasure.

But, unfortunately, they were Puritans. Can you imagine me being with Puritans. Can you imagine me being puritanical, my friend? Me, above anyone?

Fortunately I wasn't to be under their jurisdiction all the time. I saw many things during the study hours that quite awakened me. At home, I had heard of almost every kind of love. In Vienna, I was to see it.

You remember that at the time I went there, there was a governor in charge who certainly must have believed in “free love.” Besides being rather lax in the enforcement of civil laws, he was really a despoiler, a vulgarian. His court reeked with scandal. It was common gossip that he abused his wife and kept a dozen whores in constant attendance. This influence spread. His subjects, copying him, did likewise.

The theaters were nothing more than brothels where the most indecorous practices were indulged. Men and women alike wandered unhindered backstage, and the most brazen flirtations were carried on. All of this, of course, I missed; I only mention it here to convey to you the deplorable condition of Vienna at that time.

The school was housed in an old converted castle, and here every passionate thought was expressed, though, of course, in a more guarded manner. But there were any number of things that couldn't very well be hid, and through it all, I found myself in a most unusual frame of mind. Chief among other things, I found myself wanting a male companion. I saw dozens of girls who made no effort to hide the fact that they had lovers. Indeed, some three or four different ones even went so far as to suggest fixing me up with some friend they had, or knew. But Vera had poisoned my mind with thoughts of possessing a handsome man, one who was sympathetic and understood real love.

My real objection was the danger involved. I had never forgotten Vera's experience; how, after allowing her professor friend to fuck her a few times, she had to spend days in bed while a doctor relieved her of the “aftereffects.” I didn't want any of that.

But that in no way diminished my desire for a lover. No, indeed. I longed for it, yet I dared not make my desires known.

It had been arranged that I was to maintain a small cottage during my stay in Vienna, and about a week after my arrival, I was successful in getting one that suited my needs. Also, I was supplied with a very pretty and charming maid, and while she was unusually smart and quite happy in her new environment, she was not for me-at least not in the manner I preferred!

I had been at the school not quite a month when my professor suggested to me that I have what he termed “a tryout” with a local booking agent he seemed to be well acquainted with. The very next day he took me there. This agent happened to be a Spaniard, and though I had never taken kindly to Spaniards, this one proved to be most unusual in many ways. To begin with, he seemed quite taken with me. He told me frankly that I had a very wonderful voice and encouraged me to accept a place with a small opera company operating under his supervision. It wouldn't, he said, amount to very much of anything, but it would give me the “atmosphere” I needed, as well as get me used to appearing before an audience.

Naturally I accepted this generous offer, and the following day I was interviewed by the manager of the opera company. I had a most interesting talk with him, and then, quite without warning, he said, “Now, my dear, let me see your legs."

And though he said this in a very matter-of-fact manner, I was somewhat taken aback with the suddenness of it. Seeing my cheeks turn a flaming red, he added, “Have no fear, my dear-to me legs are something to hold up the body, nothing more."

He then explained to me that, besides a voice, I must possess very pretty and shapely legs, since the costumes I would have to wear would be rather revealing. Thus reassured, I got over my timidness and brazenly lifted my dress. But I quite overdid it. Catching sight of my reflection in a large mirror, I discovered my dress was high enough to display not only my legs, but a considerable portion of my hips and belly. This, coupled with the fact that I was wearing only the briefest possible drawers, gave him a view of everything he might have cared to look at.

But it so happened, he cared only to view my form for exactly the reason he had said. He never so much as placed his hand on me, nor did he make the slightest suggestive remark. He only told me, quite frankly, that I had the most beautiful legs, hips, and buttocks he had ever gazed upon. The whole affair ended by my being engaged to perform with his company.

I was so happy I burst into tears. My rise so far had been sudden, and my good fortune quite overcame me. The old gentleman allowed me to have my cry, and when I had recovered, he told to report for rehearsal the following morning.

That night I wrote mother telling her of my good fortune, and I'm sure she found traces of my tears on the pages.

Somehow it never occurred to me to investigate the type of theatrical company I was joining, and I didn't discover its true nature until the following day when I reported for my first rehearsal. As you might already have guessed, I wasn't left long in doubt.

The company, as I recall it, consisted of some fifty persons, thirty of which were women and girls, the remainder young men.

My first surprise came when I viewed the type of dress I was supposed to wear at these rehearsals. I use the term “dress” lightly. If a pair of short, lacy drawers can be called a dress, then they were dresses. What shocked me more was that the female members of the company were expected to change from street clothes in plain sight of the men. Some even seemed to enjoy it, going so far as to literally strip stark naked before them. And, strangely enough-I thought-the men seemed to take little or no notice of them. It was with much misgiving that I likewise stripped off my outer clothes and took my place with the others.

Despite my nervousness and seeming modesty, don't think I wasn't aroused, my dear. Having been away from the caresses of Vera for so long a period, and having none other with whom I might indulge my passion, I became quite smitten with some of the girlish charms I saw so freely displayed. Indeed, I became quite overcome with them.

And the talk among them! Everyone, it seemed, had a sweetheart, and each one seemed to be competing with the others in their descriptions of them. This one had a boyfriend who possessed the most wonderful cock in the whole world. Another boasted of the wonderful party she and her friend had attended; there had been endless quantities of wine and champagne, and long before midnight the whole crowd had taken off their clothing and finished the night in the various beds supplied for the purpose. The teller of the story seemed to be the heroine of the evening and boasted of the fact that she had had two men at one time.

Very startling to say the least. No one seemed to pay the least attention to me; they simply took me for granted. It being but a rehearsal, I got through with it somehow. There were two full weeks of this, and by the end of that time, I became quite used to the whole thing, even to the point of going about almost completely naked. Before the opening of the show, I had forgotten all about such a thing as modesty and found myself undressing-quite nonchalantly-in the presence of the male members of the company.

And when this idea of modesty had forever been banished from my thoughts, I took to it like a duck takes to water. Indeed, I quite surprised myself. And do not think for a moment, my dear, that I hadn't chances to pick out a lover. Indeed, no! There was a never-ending line to choose from. It being a new show, and a good place to pick out new beauties, the stage and wings were constantly filled with men and women who, as I stated before, flirted in the most brazen manner. While several of the girls listened to the giddy tales whispered into their ears, I remained aloof. I wanted none of them. The man who was to get my maidenhead was to get it through pure love and not for a cheap thrill.

As I have already mentioned, by the time the show opened I had become quite used to appearing in various stages of undress among the members of the troupe, but the opening night was quite something else again, and I'll never forget the thrill I experienced when the curtain went up! As I have said, my costume was brief. It consisted of but a tiny, fluffy skirt which flared out about my waist, while the waist-if you could call it such-was nothing more than a bit of gauze which left both breasts naked.

My part in that first show was small. It consisted of a few lines, and I sang in the assembly numbers. But it wasn't the lack of a juicy role that bothered me; it was the almost complete state of undress in which I was obliged to perform. Now, it also happens that I was positioned beside our leading lady-or prima donna, as she was known-and she was always whispering encouraging words into my ear. This woman was about thirty years old. Besides being very beautiful, she had a splendid voice, and at that time was all the rage in Vienna. She was the whole show, of course. That opening night the stage was a sea of flowers. Baskets and boxes of them sat everywhere.

There was nothing of the drama about the thing; it was a simple little Shakespearean era piece chosen primarily for its erotic songs, a part quite suited to our prima donna. I well recall a little scene in the last act. The stage was set like a flower garden. In the center of this bower-like place was a flower-decked couch, and upon this reclined our leading lady. Just before the curtain descended on this last act, I was supposed to step close to her-while she lay upon the couch in almost total nakedness-and sprinkle flower petals down on her upturned face. I was doing very nicely until she touched my thigh with one of her hands, a little gesture which quite startled me. She whispered something to me, but I was so taken by surprise at her silken touch that I didn't make out the words.

As is the custom on opening night, the “elite” gave our prima donna a party backstage. I had heard considerable whisperings going on and, from what I heard, I gathered it was to be something most unusual, so I gracefully made my exit. I was hardly ready for a wild party as yet. The following evening, however, I heard all about it, and then I was doubly glad I hadn't taken part, for the whole affair turned itself into a most awful orgy. All the members of the company, as well as the men and women guests, stripped stark naked and indulged in every method of sexual pleasure quite openly.

The second night I didn't escape quite so easily, however.

During the last act, when I had to sprinkle her with the rose petals, she whispered to me that I should come to her dressing room as soon as I could after the closing scene. Wondering what she could want with me, I mentioned it to some of the others. I saw them shrug their shoulders and wink their eyes meaningfully, but they said little. I was determined to find out something about it; the apparent mystery surrounding the reason for my invitation prompted me to delve into it further, and so I managed to corner a little blonde. When I asked her what our prima donna could possibly want with me, she smiled faintly, and said, “She's awfully nice-if you like her kind-and she gives those she favors wonderful presents."

And then she turned and walked off, leaving me quite as much in the dark as ever. What she meant by that I hadn't the slightest idea-but I was soon to know.

Upon entering our prima donna's dressing room, I found her still changing.

"Sit down,” she said, smiling very prettily, then: “What happened last night, my dear? You didn't stay for my party?"

I made some excuse or other, and she went on: “Ah, I know! You are a very naughty girl! You had a lover waiting for you; but you should have invited him here to my party! He would have enjoyed it, I'm sure!” And she looked at me from beneath her long lashes in a very naughty manner.

She then told me that she wished me to go to her apartment with her, and since I could not gracefully refuse, I accepted her invitation. The others had already departed by the time we emerged, and a few moments later, we entered a carriage and were driven off to what proved to be her “hotel.” This was a very famous retreat among the gentry at that time, and there she maintained a suite. There were nine rooms in all, and until that time, I had never seen anything nearly approaching it in splendor. Two large drawing rooms, an elegant dining room, a dressing room, and last but not least, a beautiful sunken bath. Everything was literally covered with flowers. It was indeed a fairy bower if I ever saw one.

Left alone for the moment, I cast my eyes about. I saw many small pieces of statuary of the most erotic kind, many depicting various women of past fame. All were nudes.

At the end of the drawing room I first entered, there hung a life-size painting of the prima donna, herself. It was also a nude. She had posed for it, she said, and I believed her, for the artist had brought out every detail of her body and limbs, even to the patch of golden hairs on her lower belly and her lovely pink-lipped cunt. It was very accurate as I was later able to attest. While I stood admiring it, she joined me.

"Does it look like me?” she asked, slipping one arm about my waist and pressing me against her body.

I made some complimentary remark about it, I remember. Her only answer was to pat my bottom in a caressing manner and kiss me. Perhaps it was what I said about the picture, or it might have been that she took me for granted, but whatever the reason, the lady asked, “Do you know why I have invited you here, darling?"

When I answered in the negative, she said: “Seeing you in that naughty little costume caused me to think that I would love to have you for a whole night. You would like to stay and sleep with me, wouldn't you, dear?"

I made some silly excuse about having to be home-which wasn't true-and she promptly sent a messenger with a note telling my maid that I was staying with her that night.

It was obvious she was in the habit of having her own way. However, I made another attempt to get out of it. I had no idea of what was in store for me, and though I hadn't the slightest objection to spending the whole night with her in her bed, I didn't want to get caught there and have her stage a party like the one she had had the previous night. I hadn't the slightest desire to be ravished by a man I didn't know.

I said, “But aren't you afraid I'll disturb you by remaining here with you all night?"

"Nonsense,” she cried, kissing me again and again. “Besides, I'm going to enjoy holding you in my arms and kissing you all night."

I was no longer in doubt as to the part I was to play that night, and this time when our lips met I gave her the tip of my tongue, a little act she accepted as answer enough.

Stepping to a tasseled cord, she summoned a maid.

"Prepare my bath,” she said to this domestic. “We will be bathing together. Place wine and eatables on the table; then you may go."

All very commonplace, I thought.

"Come,” she said when the maid withdrew. “Let us remove our clothes. There is no need for us to be uncomfortable; besides, I seldom wear anything when in my own rooms. Come!"

That this woman knew what she was doing was proven a moment later.

Leading me into a dressing room, she went about the business of undressing as though she were alone, and I, having long since gotten over the idea that it was prudish to go about naked, quickly followed suit.

I couldn't help but wonder what Vera would have said had she seen me walking about those rooms in complete nakedness, and I couldn't help but wonder what she would have thought could she have seen us a few moments later reclining in that wonderful sunken bath!

The sight of this splendid woman electrified me. I thought, too, that she was even more beautiful than Vera, but I've often wondered if that thought wasn't prompted by having her naked and so close.

Lying there in the bath, she became quite amorous, and I, having been without a companion so long, returned her caresses in a manner that must have been quite convincing, for she said, “Come, let us get out and dry! I am dying to kiss your lovely body, but I can't very well put my head under water!” And as though that wasn't enough, she slipped one hand into my crotch and toyed with my cunt for a moment adding, “It's beautiful, darling! I don't think I'll be able to wait till we get on the bed!"

But she did wait. In the outer room, we found the maid arranging the table with good things to eat, but even the presence of this girl didn't deter her. Filling two glasses, she handed me one. Then standing facing me, she said, “A toast to your darling little cunt, dear; may it never be without a companion, be it tongue or cock."

Somehow I managed to say something appropriate about the golden hair that surrounded her cunt, and then we seated ourselves, though we didn't sit with our arms about each other as Vera and I had done often at home. The food was delicious and I did full justice to it. I also indulged in a considerable amount of wine and champagne, and long before we left the table, I was more than willing to begin the oral festivities.

Suddenly she sprang to the piano. “Sing for me,” she suggested, seating herself and running her fingers over the keys. Perhaps it was the wine; I don't know. Maybe it was due to the unusual condition I was in, but whatever the cause, I sang that night as I had never sung before, and when I finished, she raised from the stool and took me in her arms.

"What a silly girl,” she cried, kissing me. “How utterly foolish it is for you to remain with our little company when you should be making a name for yourself in the famous cities of Europe!"

I couldn't believe that this woman would take such an interest in me, but I was quite mistaken, as you shall see.

"Come,” she said, leading me toward one of the bedrooms. “We are but wasting time. Besides, the night is short enough as it is!"

On the bed, she fitted her body comfortably next to mine. “Where do you receive your lovers?” she asked, leaning over me and gazing into my eyes. When I told her that I had never had a lover, she could hardly believe it.

"Lie here on the edge of the bed so I can see for myself if you have ever had a lover!"

Helpless in her hands, my head filled with the fumes of the wine and champagne, and eager to surrender myself to her in any manner she liked, I did her bidding. Taking my thighs upon her shoulders, she drew the lips of my cunt well apart and gazed into it. I could feel her hot breath upon it, she was that close.

"As God is my judge, the child's a virgin!” she cried.

Knowing that in another moment I was going to receive the hottest of kisses, I grasped her hair and drew her face close! It was a daring thing to do, of course, but I was so overcome I couldn't help it. But my action wasn't without reward. Her mouth pressed tightly to my anxiously awaiting cunt. She shot her tongue into me as far as she could reach, but a half dozen stabs with it brought down a veritable flood of my pearly creme, and before I realized it, I was shooting my nectar between her lips!

This so maddened her that she literally threw herself upon me. She sat astride my upturned face, her cunt rubbing against and between my hungry lips while my tongue did its part to produce a reciprocal spend from her! What a night! It was like she had said; there was going to be little sleep for either of us that night!

I became like one possessed! The feel of her unusually long tongue exploring the depths of my cunt drove me almost mad! Not satisfied with limiting myself to her beautiful pussy, I explored the lower regions, that dale between the snowy cheeks of her bottom, and here, strangely enough, I found a new delight!

Later I am going to tell you of my little Rose-that being the name of a very pretty and talented maid I had later-and how she delighted in forever finding new ways to thrill me. It was her greatest delight to bury her face between the cheeks of my bottom and tickle me there with the tip of her tongue. But meanwhile, I had never heard of such a thing and I cannot, even now, recall what prompted me to attempt such a novel-and deliciously wicked-act.

I found myself liking it, and we gave each other an endless amount of pleasure in this manner.

And so it went all through the night. But, since we were only human, we needed rest, and at last we fell into a peaceful sleep.

In the morning I felt none the worse for my night's pleasures, and aside from a slight smarting in the region of my cunny, I felt quite myself. We had a bath and a delightful breakfast, and then, when I was about to depart, she gave me a beautiful ring. It was a small diamond, mounted into what resembled, I swear, a tiny cunt. I have kept it to this day. She insisted it was a perfect picture of my own little pussy.

After such an experience, I felt I really belonged, so to speak; I took more kindly to the strange conversations I heard all about me, and I began to rather like my surroundings. To give you some idea of the freedom with which these girls discussed the most private subjects, let me tell you of a short conversation I had with another girl of our troupe the following evening.

She started very bluntly by asking, “How did you make out with our leading lady last night? Was she as nice as you thought?"

I tried to be a little uppish. I thought it a rather indelicate question, so I said, “What caused you to think I went anywhere with her?"

She shrugged her shoulders, and without looking up, said, “You are wearing one of her keepsakes. She never gives them to anyone except those with whom she's spent a night. Don't be offended, dear, it's a sort of badge of servitude, and she gives them only to those with whom she's had the most pleasure. And,” she went on, raising her head and looking at me, “spending a night with her means just one thing. I know, I spent a night with her myself!"

So, I thought. The whole troupe knows about it, do they? Well, what of it? I had had a wonderful time so why worry about who knew it? I noted that three or four of the others wore the same sort of ring; besides, I might find it to my advantage to be nice to this prima donna.

A week passed. I was invited to more parties, but I refused them all. But I didn't refuse my friend when I was again invited to her apartment. Indeed, I was rather looking forward to it. Having tasted the bliss to be found in this woman's arms, and a whole week having elapsed since then, I was quite willing to spend another night with her.

But what was my surprise to find, upon entering, a party of six other girls besides ourselves. My new sweetheart must have noted my confusion, for she said, “These are all friends of mine, dear, so please make yourself quite at home.” I noted, too, that each and every one wore a ring similar to mine, and as this emblem constituted a sort of sisterhood, I began to feel more at home.

I also learned that these girls were members of splendid families and were in the habit of getting together from time to time for an out-and-out romp.

All were very pretty and shapely, and not a single one of them was over twenty years old. Among them, however, was one very pretty little thing that was an out-and-out tribade. She was greatly sought after by women of the elite. Her greatest delight was to administer to women who enjoyed oral satisfaction. She made not the slightest secret of it. She openly solicited women to her arms, and her greatest “hunting ground” was the theater, where she made it a practice to enter the various dressing rooms. Here, between scenes, she would pop her face between the thighs of anyone who took her fancy or would have anything to do with her.

She was one of the most lascivious girls I had ever met. She openly declared her liking for me and said she hoped I would let her prove herself to my taste.

It was shortly after midnight when we entered the apartment, and before one o'clock, we had all imbibed more or less freely and were feeling rather frisky. The avowed cunnilinguist started the festivities. She complained of the heat, and then, without waiting for an invitation, quickly disrobed and stood stark naked before us.

This seemed to be the signal. I have noticed that in a party of this sort, it invariably rests upon the shoulders of one to start things going, and it was this woman who started things off that night.

Dresses, slippers, and stockings were cast aside by everyone now, and I found myself following suit. In no time at all, we were undressed. Then our prima donna and the woman who had so forwardly undressed slipped off somewhere-a little act which caused wild speculation among us. I found myself in the arms of a very pretty and shapely brunette who began showering me with kisses.

About that time, the others were forming into pairs and were slipping off into darkened corners or bedrooms. Finding ourselves alone-or as much alone as it was possible to be-my companion began going further afield with her kisses. Lips were not enough. Titties, shoulders, arms, and legs quickly passed beneath her skilled lips, and it wasn't long before I felt her greedy mouth sipping sweets from my cunt! Her tongue was soft as it laved up and down the expanse of my cunny, which was charmingly laid open so as to allow her the greatest access possible. I motioned to her that she should bring her own delightful slit within reach of my own hungry mouth, but she would have none of it.

"For long hours now, I have ached to have your delicious cunt under my tongue,” she said, her breath making the soft hairs of my mount stir as she spoke. “I do not wish to be distracted from my pleasure in tasting your charms. There will be plenty of time this night for you to repay me in kind."

That said, I relaxed, determined to fully enjoy what I knew would be a delightful encounter.

I was not disappointed! Her talented tongue made broad sweeping circles about my love lips. My eager flesh tingled with anticipation as she tightened the circuitous path that led to my innermost center of joy. Her tongue hardened to a point as she neared that moist, pink tunnel that beckoned her further in and down. She stabbed wildly at my opening, plunging within to the depths. She dragged her sodden tongue out of my throbbing slit and swiped it across my upstanding clit. I cried out with joy as the magic button was pushed. Her lips fastened onto the ever-rising sentinel of joy. She greedily sucked upon the stiff bit of flesh while her hands stole beneath my body. Clenching my bottom-cheeks in her clasping hands, she spread apart the globes of flesh. In a flash, she lifted my legs over her shoulders, rocking my body back so that I rested more upon my shoulders than upon my back. The way opened, she probed with her tongue into my smaller, tightly clenched hole. At the feel of her warm, wet tongue tip, I let my body relax, allowing passage of her slightly rough tongue. The narrowed tip slipped inside, delving into that dark chamber. She eased me back down; her eager lips once again fastening upon my clit. But my bottom-hole wasn't to escape her attentions completely. As she sucked my aching clit deeper into her mouth, teasingly biting the sensitive flesh, one of her fingers stole back to that tight, sensitive opening. The way having been already paved by her wet tongue, her questing digit slipped in up to her knuckle. Letting go of my clit, she plunged her tongue once again into my now sopping-wet pussy. She noisily slurped up my bountiful fluids, savoring the hot, wet flavor of it as her finger frantically fucked by bottom-hole. As the crisis overtook me, I heard the sounds all around me of other girls engaging in the arts of Lesbos. The sounds of passion surrounding me, and the double-barreled assault I was being subjected to, culminated in an earth-shattering orgasm. I sobbed out my joy, adding to the vocal chaos that reigned in that passion-filled room.

I awoke, not realizing that I had collapsed in a passion-clouded daze, to see my partner hovering over me, caressing my painfully erect nipples in her ever-hungry mouth. I shook my head to clear away the climactic fog that had enveloped me, determined to wrestle my partner to the floor in order that I might give as good as I had received.

After that, things happened with such rapidity that it was difficult to memorize them. Suffice it to say that before we slept, I had the fun of gamahuching every girl there. By the time I got to have the famous cunny-lover, I guess she got rather a dry kiss; I know she had little to offer my willing lips.

And that night, I was to learn something else about what went on at these orgies. It is a known fact that flesh and blood can stand just so much and after that, some extra stimulant is necessary. In this case, it was the birch rod. Never having heard of anything like this, I was rather surprised. Our hostess, however, seeing that I was the novice of the party, took it upon herself to explain the whole thing, hinting in no uncertain terms that I was to be the victim of their lust. I was somewhat startled at this bit of news. However, I knew better than to decline; I was in their hands, and I felt I had best submit to this indignity, even though it did hurt.

It's a very strange thing, my friend, how quickly one can bring him or herself to liking a thing like that. I wasn't the only one whipped that night. I learned, to my surprise, that many of these girls really delighted in being stripped naked and whipped on various parts of their bodies; I learned, too, that there was really something in it. Why a person could possibly have a desire to be whipped was, until that time, something of a mystery to me.

I realized, however, that the birch rod in the hands of a skilled practitioner of the art can produce an almost unheard-of pleasure-at least I found it so in my case. At first it hurt dreadfully, of course, but in a few moments it ceased to hurt so much. I felt I was being cut to ribbons; I was sure my back, bottom, and legs must be laid open with cuts, but nothing of the sort happened at all. I did have a few ridges the next day, but these soon healed and I felt not the slightest effects of it. Believe it or not, my dear friend, but I had come to like it.

Again, I am not going to tire you with a recital of all the things we did that night; if I did, I would be but repeating myself, and that you would not wish. You are well informed as to what goes on at a party of this sort, I know, so there is little to add. Enough to say that I was initiated into the gentle art of eating and drinking from a girl's cunny, bonbons and wine being the goodies in question.

Isn't it strange, my dear, the odd things one will think of when in the passionate embrace of a loved one? I recall such an incident. One of these girls seemed prettier to me than any other. She was the proud possessor of an unusually well formed bottom. The cheeks were round and plump and as smooth as ivory, and somehow I couldn't resist the temptation of covering them with kisses. She had evidently been operated on in this manner by our prima donna, for as soon as I made known my desire, she promptly offered the choice morsel to my lips, even holding the cheeks apart that I might more easily reach that which lay buried within. I trust that my own talent in that field didn't disappoint her.

Does the story so far convey to you just what sort of a life I was leading? And do these lines portray something of my own lascivious nature? Write me and let me know your true reaction.

Had it not been for these parties consisting of charming, pussy-loving women, I am sure, with my lascivious temperament, I would have fallen an easy victim to some unworthy man.

I learned among other things that many men kept as mistresses young girls, and that Eve-that being the name of the bold woman from the party-was kept by a wealthy man, though she spent much of her time at the home of an aged uncle.

I learned, too, that there is no end to the strange things a man will request of his mistress, be she permanent or a casual “pick-up,” and in a few moments I am going to tell you of an experience I had with one of these.

But before going into that, let me tell you of my success-I like to dwell upon that. Shortly after the event recorded above, I had an opportunity to become understudy to a famous singer of that day.

She was getting along in years, and through the influence of our prima donna, I managed to get into the show in which she was starring. This particular woman had been in the habit of having fainting fits; also, as I have already stated, she was getting along in years. She treated me very kindly from the very first. There was considerable study ahead for me, but I pitched into it with a vengeance, and I am proud to say that it was this chance that gave me my opportunity to go to the top.

As is customary for one in a like position, I was offered all sorts of opportunities to indulge my passion, many of these offers coming from aged men. True, I had had love affairs with various men, but they had been of a platonic nature and nothing came them. Also, I managed to find a girl here and there who liked to be sucked off, so you see I had little or nothing to worry about.

I recall one man among the others to whom I took rather a shine. Like many of the others, he was wealthy. He gave me wonderful presents, and though he coaxed me for favors, I always refused. I can't say, though, that I did not think favorably of him. Almost every girl had a lover; but when they talked of them among themselves, I only listened. Had this man pressed the least bit in making his desires known, I would have fallen an easy victim. Of this I am sure.

I recall one night in particular. I might mention here that he was a splendid-looking man, not a day over fifty, tall and well formed. He had asked me to dine with him that night, and I had accepted.

The place he chose was notorious for its ribald parties, but I didn't mind; I was in rather a strange mood that night. As is customary on such occasions, we occupied a private dining room. This room, besides having the necessary table and chairs, contained an inviting couch. I happened to be wearing a very becoming dress. At that time, if you will recall, the women were going in for the extreme in decollete and were trying to out rival each other-or so it seemed-in indecent exposure. Because it was quite the proper thing, I was also wearing a decollete gown that revealed both my breasts and quite a bit below them.

We enjoyed a delightful repast. Also, we consumed a considerable amount of wine, and it wasn't long before I began feeling rather frisky. Shortly after finishing our meal, we adjourned to the aforementioned couch. This couch, as everyone knows, was there for but one purpose, and I wasn't so sure that I didn't want to put it to its destined use.

Then, too, he seemed more caressing than I had ever seen him; my lips weren't enough for him and he was soon passing his lips over my naked titties, kissing and sucking the nipples like a true lover. That was as far as I had ever allowed a man to go before that night, but that particular evening I felt randy, and I made not the slightest effort to resist him as he laid me over against the pillows with which the couch seemed covered.

At this point, he took hold of my ankle and toyed with it; I knew what was coming but I didn't stop him, and soon his hand was working its way up my leg and thigh. He even slipped his fingers into the lacy drawers I was wearing and toyed with the curls there. Why I didn't put a stop to all this I don't know; I do know, however, that his fingers felt lovely as they toyed with my burning cunt, and it wasn't ‘till he attempted to press his face between my thighs that I called a halt, and only then because I had gone off twice. I was weak after that and I am sure that, had he pressed his advantage a little more, I would have willingly accepted his cock, which even then was sticking from his trousers. He had taken it out with the hope that he would be allowed to slip it into me.

To his everlasting credit, he did not force me; he simply took it for granted that I did not wish it at that time, and though the man never got another chance like that, his presents never stopped coming to me. As he said, “He lived in hope."

Now I shall tell you of that strange experience I had and let you judge for yourself just what temptations lay in wait for a girl.

The night I have in mind, I received a basket of flowers. Strangely enough, I hadn't sung that night, so I couldn't account for its reception. In the basket, well hidden, was a letter. It was addressed to me. There being no longer any doubt that it was intended for me, I opened it. It was a request that I have dinner with the sender. In still another part of the basket, I found a long slender box. Upon opening it, I found it contained a necklace of very fine pearls. Wondering why anyone would send me such a valuable present, I put the matter up to one of the girls.

"You're a lucky devil,” she said after reading the letter.

"Lucky?” I asked.

"Lucky is right. Why couldn't I get an offer like that from the old duffer!” She seemed peeved at what she believed was her ill luck.

"Tell me about it,” I prompted her. “What does one have to do?"

"That's where the funny part comes in,” she smiled. “All the old geezer wants is some peeing!"

"Peeing?” I asked, mystified.

She nodded. “I know a dozen different girls he's had out to his place, but I've never been lucky enough to get asked; I guess he doesn't like my kind.

"But tell me,” I insisted, “What, exactly, does one have to do?"

She patted me on the shoulder. “Listen, dearie, if you turn down this offer, you're a far bigger fool than I could possibly think! Go ahead, you lucky devil!” And with that, she turned and left me.

I might have asked someone else; I wanted to know something more about this “peeing” business, but there seemed no one else there who knew very much about him.

The letter said that he (the writer) occupied the number two box, and to avoid mistakes, he was wearing a yellow flower in his buttonhole. It also instructed me on how to join him outside the theater. I was to enter a certain carriage, which I would find at the exit. Here I would find him waiting, and he would explain his wishes.

I had little time in which to make up my mind. The play was almost over, and I had to decide quickly. Going to the little peephole through which the players were able to see out without being seen, I searched the box in question, and there he sat. Naturally, with the theater in semidarkness, I couldn't see very well, but from what I could make out, he didn't look very dangerous. Then, too, I was to talk with him, in his carriage, and if I didn't care for his proposal, I wasn't obliged to go with him. Anyway I looked at it, the affair had the promise of a thrilling experience.

As was the habit with me, I made up my mind quickly. I would go, just for the novelty of the thing!

Following his instructions to the letter, I left the theater and entered the carriage that was waiting at the exit. Sure enough, the gentleman was within and waiting for me.

"You are prompt, my dear,” were his first words, “and I am very grateful to you. You will find me a gentleman, so you need have no fear of me. Rest assured I shall treat you with every consideration."

"I am sure of that,” I answered, by way of starting a conversation.

Little was said by either of us, however, as the carriage moved through the city, and it wasn't until we had entered a very beautiful villa that he made any suggestion as to what I might expect. Indeed, we were seated at the table and had sampled the delicious foods and the splendid wines before he enlightened me.

Then, quite nonchalantly I thought, he told me that he cared nothing whatever for women; that is, he cared nothing for them in a sexual sense. Only certain women appealed to him strongly, but in another sense altogether.

I must have appealed strongly to him for he went into the business at once. Rising from the table, he stepped to a closet and brought out a white dress. With almost the same motion, he produced a purse and laid it beside the dress.

"In the purse there are one thousand marks,” he said, “and they shall be yours if you will don this dress and do my bidding, acting as if you were my dutiful wife. You have nothing whatever to fear from me. I admit my request is a strange one, but since I have given my word that nothing will happen to you which might harm you in any possible way, I will be delighted if you will assist me by doing your simple part that I might enjoy myself in the only way I can. Will you do this?"

Really, I was thrilled. I had become reconciled to being alone with him; I could see nothing in his manners which might lead me to believe him insane and, in truth, I was beginning to get a real thrill out of it already. Besides, I would have something really spicy to tell my friends!

"Very, well,” I answered, “I promise to go through with it providing I might rest assured that you will not whip or hit me or molest me in any way."

He nodded his agreement, then said, “You will find your task simple, indeed. Go into this room,” he said pointing to a door, “and remove all your clothing. Then you are to dress in this costume. You will find slippers and stockings to match the dress in the room. Put them on. But remember, you are to wear nothing but the dress, slippers, and stockings."

Without further ado, I picked up the dress and entered the room in question. He held the door open for me and closed it, telling me to return as soon as I had changed.

I heard the door click shut behind me. It was too late to back out now. I hurried out of my clothes. Then, before dropping my last garment, I nervously looked all about but could find nothing amiss. In fact, it was nothing but a beautiful bedroom with a dresser, chairs, and a wardrobe that contained many other garments-to say nothing of an endless assortment of slippers and stockings. These seemed to be a weakness with the old boy, I thought.

Choosing a pair of each suitable to my feet and legs, I sat down to put them on. Suddenly, a strange feeling that I wanted to make water came over me. This I thought unduly strange, for I had attended to my wants before leaving the theater just a short hour before. But the feeling persisted. Indeed, it grew on me as I sat there thinking about it, and I began seeking something into which I might pee. There was nothing available, however, so I slipped on the dress.

I tried to dismiss the thought from my mind. I was about to turn the knob when I was again taken with the necessity of wanting to pee, and the need of freeing my bladder was so pronounced that I couldn't see how I was ever going to stand it until I could get out of the house.

Thinking to hurry the matter, I opened the door and entered the room where I had left my benefactor. As he had suggested, I acted the dutiful wife. My hands were clasped in front of me, and my eyes were downcast; all in all, I must have looked properly submissive.

Wishing to say something, I asked him why he had chosen me as his wife. He explained that only such a girl as I could appeal to him, and that since I was an actress, I could carry out the part as he desired it. While he was telling me this, I squirmed and twisted about, so great was my desire to pee.

Finally, when I though I could no longer stand it, I told him that it would be impossible to continue until I had been allowed to visit the privy. I was quite startled by his reaction. “No!” he yelled, looking at me, a stern expression on his face. “And do not mention it again! When the proper time comes you may attend to your needs, but not before!"

To say that I was frightened would be putting it mildly. Then he handed me a bridal veil and told me to put it on. This done, he said, “Now answer all my questions just as though you were my legal wife. Will you do everything a dutiful wife should do?"

"Yes, sir,” I answered, somewhat cowed now.

"You will obey me in everything?"

"Yes, sir,” I answered, sure now that he must be a madman. My bladder almost bursting, and my knees pinched together for fear of spilling it all over the expensive Persian rug on which I stood, I awaited his next command. I didn't have long to wait.

"Come,” he said, leading me into another room. Here, in spite of the outside warmth, a great fire burned on the hearth, and before this lay a great bearskin rug. Without further ado, he lay down upon this rug, his head resting on the head of the thing. Then he commanded me to come and stand close to his head.

"Closer!” he cried. “That is right. You are now in the right position. In the future you must dispense with drawers; they will be in the way while you are acting the good wife."

I knew then that he was looking under my dress, and if he wasn't getting a good look at everything, it wasn't my fault, for I was without drawers; I wore nothing except the dress, slippers, and stockings.

Then, when I thought I could no longer stand it and would surely pee then and there, he said, “Now step astride me!"

With an effort, I managed to do his bidding. It was an effort because now I felt as though I was about to burst, so filled was my bladder. Hurrying to do his bidding that I might get it over with, I moved up so I stood astride his chest, my feet at his shoulders.

"Now squat down,” he said. I did this. He kept me thus for fully a minute; it was the longest minute I had ever been called upon to endure. I began to suffer in still another way; I found my legs were hurting me dreadfully; they seemed filled with cramps, and my knees ached. He must have noted my suffering, for he said, “Do you still feel that you wish to make water?"

Snatching my dress away so I could see his face, I nodded.

"Then,” he said, a strange light in his eyes, “since you are my dutiful wife, I command you to do it right where you are!"

I could hardly believe my own ears! Was I hearing correctly, or had the man gone completely insane? Then it suddenly occurred to me that the girl back at the theater had said something about this-something about getting a lot of money for simply peeing!

"Could it be possible,” I thought, “that this man wanted me to do this dreadful thing on him!” I recalled having read something about a certain Russian count who, before he could bring himself to have sexual connection with his mistress, insisted upon her pissing on him! Could it be possible that this man wanted me to do the same thing, and that afterward he would ravish me?

The thought sickened me! It wasn't that I dreaded the thought of doing this supposed dreadful thing on him; it was the fear that I might in another minute be ravished by him. But my fears and dread were not to be taken into consideration. I had already stood for more than I could stand, and even as I squatted there over him, I so lost control of myself that the flood-gate was forced open, allowing a solid stream of my amber fluid to gush and spatter over his shirtfront!

Suddenly I felt thrilled at it all! The fact that he seemed to enjoy this most intimate thing done upon him so aroused my lascivious mind that I deliberately arched my hips that I might dash the stream directly upon his face!

Nor was I alone in these thoughts. At the first contact, his arms went about my naked hips and he quite lifted me directly over his open mouth! His lips stretched wide, he let my fluid splash onto his tongue.

At last, I had no more to give; my bladder was empty. But, if my desire to make water had passed, my desire to be sucked had not. I had been greatly aroused. The dreadful act didn't sicken me; rather it had tantalized my unusually lascivious nature to the limit!

One of my hands went to the back of his neck; his hair and the back of his collar were drenched, but I cared not for that! My desire then was to go off. That this wasn't in his plans didn't faze me in the least; I was burning hot! Moving and twisting about, rubbing my cunt all over his clinging mouth, I drew him higher and tighter, and then I felt the joy rising within me!

I came with great wrenching spasms, flooding his mouth with my pearly fluid! I could see in his eyes (that being the only part of his face I could see since the rest was buried in my own thick curls) that he was not unhappy about this ad-libbed addition to his own little play. I realized then that I hadn't gone too far. But the double shock had been far too great for me to stand. With a long-drawn sigh, I collapsed upon him, only to roll to the floor, helpless to defend myself had this been necessary which, thank the Lord, it wasn't.

Instead of mounting me as I thought he would, and which I was powerless to prevent, he satisfied himself with simply rolling off with me, and here, his face still between my naked thighs, he contented himself with simply kissing my aching gap. It was at his own initiating that the play ceased.

Rising to his feet, he stood looking down at me; then he did a strange thing. Bending down, he drew my skirt over my legs, thus shutting out the sight of my nudity. “You had best rise and take care of yourself,” he said in a low voice. “You are quite wet."

Almost reluctantly, I rose to my feet. “Iam wet,” I answered, raising my single skirt to well above my waist with an utter disregard that I might be inviting him to further liberties.

But the gentleman made not the slightest effort to molest me, and I reentered the bedroom quite as intact as I had left it.

Here I bathed myself and hastily dressed. It had been a rare novelty to me, but I would feel better about it all when I was safely back in my own rooms. He was waiting for me when I came out of the bedroom. I thought he appeared somewhat crestfallen, and I couldn't help but thrill inwardly at the thought of the strange story I would tell my friends.

When he saw that I was smiling and that I wasn't angry at anything that had happened, he said, “I sincerely hope you will not think too harshly of me, my dear-I am unfortunate in that I am unable to enjoy the embrace of a woman in the natural way, and I wish to thank you for your kind consideration in assisting me."

Fully dressed now, I felt more or less safe, and smiling, I said, “Please do not make any apologies; I, too, have keenly enjoyed it all, and whenever you wish it, I shall be only too glad to come to you again."

Think of my surprise, then, to hear him say that he would never call upon me again. I thought there might have been something about me that he disliked, but I was mistaken in this. He complimented me very highly for my conduct. He said I was the best subject he had ever had but, unfortunately, he could never get the same thrill by having a girl the second time. Then he handed me the purse; I had earned it, he said, adding that I should wear the necklace in memory of the blessed event.

I couldn't quite look at it as a blessed event, but I did remember it as one of the most strange-if not the strangest-events I had ever experienced. I accepted the purse, of course; it wasn't that I was in such great need of money-I had saved my earnings and my pay was good-but I would use it to throw a grand party for my friends.

Though it was all very strange, I must say that he was one of the most perfect gentlemen I had ever met. True, his desires were most unusual, but that was nothing I need worry about; I have met any number of men whose desires were far stranger than his, and they were far from being gentlemen.

I arrived home all right, and no one was ever the wiser, though later I told our prima donna about it. Her only reaction was a shrug of her shapely shoulders and a faint smile. “You will get used to all that and many other things,” she said. “Men seem to think a diva is something unusual, and as long as they are silly enough to believe that, we might as well reap the gold harvest of their thoughts."

She told me of dozens of men she had had that way, and I was surprised to find that there were women who were equally guilty of the offense mentioned.

It had been a most wonderful experience for me. I cared little or nothing about the money and necklace; it had been an experience just suited for me as it was one more adventure leading me down the road into a life of freedom and ease.

I no longer feared being naked in the presence of men, since I had already been sucked off by one. It was, however, the last affair of its kind I experienced in Vienna.

A few weeks later, I was called upon to take our diva's part. She had been stricken down and was unable to carry on. This had its good points; one night I was interviewed by a celebrated gentleman. It seemed he had been in the audience constantly for a week. In fact, he let on that he was about to open another far bigger opera in Frankfurt, and I was engaged for the part of Juliette.

At last, I was made, as they say in the theatrical world!

I was given a wonderful part and I received many wonderful presents, and I have them to this day. I had taken an understudy, just as I had been understudy to our prima donna, so I was able to leave almost at once. A few days later, I departed the wonderful city that had been so instrumental in providing me with so many thrilling and delightful experiences.

I found to my great delight that a very beautiful villa had been provided for me by my new manager. I thought, of course, that I would be called upon to pay-in the manner such things are supposed to be paid for-but he proved to be a harmless little fellow. He seemed to think it pay enough if I allowed him to kiss my hand, which he did at every opportunity.