The Loves of Lord Roxboro

VOLUME I

Roxboro Mansion was indeed a beautiful place, beautiful but isolated, away, as you might say, from all the adjoining estates, and dating back hundreds of years, and finally passing down to the present owner, Lord Emory Roxboro, who was, at the opening of our story, seated in his spacious and well-appointed library, perusing a missive which seemed to give him considerable concern.

He was a tall man, well formed, and about forty odd years of age, and to judge from his appearance as he rose to his feet and strode about the softly carpeted room, the letter wrinkled and clutched in his well-manicured hand, he at once presented a striking and dignified appearance. He was clothed in the latest fashion of the day, a massive gold chain dangled from his waistcoat and his gold-rimmed eyeglasses (donned probably for the perusal of the letter that had so agitated him) were perched high on his aristocratic nose, and a huge diamond ring blazed upon the finger of his right hand. He paced the floor nervously and mused as if to himself.

“Why in the name of the Seven Hills of Rome must this happen at this time? Gramercy should take care of his own. Surely, I have no place here for children!”

He glanced at the note again and ringing for a servant, he gave himself a nervous pacing; the servant, a demure young maid of about eighteen, responded to the call and came and stood in the doorway awaiting her master's command.

“Marie,” said he, turning toward her, “my nieces, the Misses Caroline and Freda, will arrive here during the next hour; they are coming by stage and I wish that you would meet them and make them feel at home in the guest chamber. Let me know when they arrive.”

Lord Roxboro again resumed his pacing. He had recently received news of the demise of his only brother, a ne'er-do-well who, almost a pauper, had passed away, undoubtedly in one of his alcoholic excesses, and the two children of this brother Gramercy, who had since an early age been confined by their father in a French convent, and now, upon his death, were being sent to their only living relative, Lord Roxboro, to be under his care.

The father had left them nothing, having drunk up his entire pittance, and now Lord Roxboro, willing or not, was to be blessed with two poor relations. Being a bachelor, he dreaded the charge, not because of the financial strain they might put upon his bankroll, but children, as charges, were a trifle out of his line and the fact that his lazy, drunken brother had absolutely failed to provide for them irritated him and he cursed softly under his breath.

The letter that he held crumpled in his hand was from the superior of the convent, informing him that his two charges were being forwarded to him on the incoming stage. Evidently the letter had been delayed in transit, arriving only that morning.

He tried to recall the appearance of his two nieces upon the last occasion that he had seen them. “Scrawny little brats,” he growled, his brow clouding as he thought back through the years. “I suppose they will destroy the furniture and ruin the entire house. I must contrive to get rid of them speedily.”

In this frame of mind he nervously paced the library, to be awakened from his reverie by the creaking of carriage wheels. Striding to the window with a majestic step, he drew aside the curtains and peered down as the driver sprang from his seat and opened the coach door with a flourish, awaited the occupants to alight.

A feminine figure, her arms loaded with boxes and bags, placed a dainty foot on the step and alighted. Turning, she extended her hand to assist another girl to descend. Mon Dieu! Surely these ravishing creatures could not be his nieces; why, they seemed almost grown women! He watched them as they entered the house and a amp; the coach wheeled away, and he hastily arranged his apparel and proceeded with alacrity downstairs to meet his two nieces.

Marie had already ensconced them in the sitting room and as he entered they laid aside their packages and bundles and were standing demurely together awaiting, as it seemed, his inspection. What a change! Ye Gods! he exclaimed as he gazed at their adorable forms and his mouth watered. Ah! No longer scrawny and thin, as he had remembered them. They wore large roll-brimmed hats, which shaded their rosy faces. These were not the little vixens, the tormentors, he had known but a short few years before.

“Is this Caroline and Freda?” he asked. “My two little nieces?”

“Yes, Uncle Roxboro,” they answered in unison, still holding their heads demurely lowered like a pair of adorable cherubs.

“Well, well, well! Can this be so? What a change a few years has made in you girls. Is this the proper manner in which to greet your uncle? Come, my little cherubs, and bestow a caress of welcome upon your uncle. Kiss me, my pets.”

At this a blush, like unto the crimson pansy, suffused the cheeks of the older and more astute girl. She appeared to be a little older than sixteen, but, approaching her uncle, she drew her sweet, well-formed and rosy lips to his. Placing her soft arms about his neck, she pressed her lips to his and gave him a squeeze. The younger girl, as pretty, if not more so, in her own peculiar type of attractiveness, repeated her sister's act and then upon the invitation of Lord Roxboro they seated themselves and withdrew their silken gloves. This gave him an opportunity to fully inspect his charges, an advantage that he at once availed himself of.

He saw that Caroline, the elder, was no longer a child. No, indeed. The rise and fall of her upturned bosom beneath her tight little bodice gave great promise of delectable beauties concealed beneath the folds of her silken garments, and as she daintily crossed her slim ankles, the form and swell of her beautiful lower extremities proclaimed the fact that she had entered that adorable stage of budding womanhood; her large, lustrous orbs of deep violet-blue looked (questioningly) about the room and as she bit her full, rosy, coral lips between her brilliantly snow-white teeth, regular in their well-shaped whiteness, she made an adorable, distracting picture of youth and beauty.

Many thoughts coursed through the mind of Lord Roxboro as he sat there appraising his adorable nieces, thoughts that boded no good for the virtuous future of the two charming girls, relatives though they might be.

Roxboro was a sensualist, taking his pleasure, no matter in what regard, wherever he found it. He was bored with the sycophants that surrounded him and uttered their tiresome praises continually, and he promised himself to take full advantage of this manna delivered into his arms as if from the very heavens.

Freda, the younger of the two sisters, also became the object of his careful scrutiny. A trifle smaller in stature than Caroline, she had not as yet reached that divine stage of development that made itself manifest in her elder sister, but the elegant, slender lines of her delectable form gave very good promise of a beauty divine. She differed from Caroline in many respects, her eyes being a deep, doelike brown, her skin a trifle darker in color but fine in texture. She moved about uneasily in her new surroundings.

“Forgive me, nieces,” cried Lord Roxboro, giving an uneasy laugh and starting himself from the pleasant train of thought that had been engendered in his sensual mind at the sight of these delectable darlings. “You must want to change your gowns and repair the ravages and damages of your long and tiresome journey. Marie! Conduct the ladies to the guest chamber.”

Lord Roxboro saw no more of his young charges until that evening at supper. Clad in new frocks, they entered the dining room and, after curtsying to their uncle, seated themselves at the table demurely. As Lord Roxboro lived alone, except for his few servants, only the three were present for dinner.

An excellent repast was served. The lord plied his charges with questions in regard to their life in the convent. The younger girl, Freda, seemed quite lively and full of life, laughing and joking. Caroline, burdened perhaps by the consciousness of her greater age and dignity, due to her budding womanhood, was more reserved; her eyes, as they encountered the lord's burning ones, dropped to her plate and a telltale flush overspread her beautiful countenance. She was evidently conscious of her sex and fidgeted nervously under her uncle's sensual gaze, blushing to the roots of her auburn hair and partaking of but little food, mostly sitting toying idly with her fork and eating but small nibbles of this and that.

By skillful and adroit questioning the lord ascertained that the two lovely creatures had been in different classes at the convent and had not slept in the same dormitory. This was fully in accord with his plans, and almost hugging himself with glee, he ordered Marie, the maid, to prepare two rooms, one on each side of his library, for the adorable damsels. At the conclusion of the repast he retired to his library to read and meditate, the girls each going to her room to rest after their travels of the day.

Evening fell and the servants, their daily tasks finished, prepared to retire to their own quarters outside of the mansion. The lord heard his two charming nieces moving about in their respective rooms, probably setting their things in order. Both rooms were entered from the hall, his own being reached through the library, although a door to each of the girls' chambers also opened from the library.

Opening the door to Freda's room, Lord Roxboro found her busily engaged in unpacking her boxes and stowing her apparel away in the drawers of a chest.

“Ah, right at home already, I see,” he said, laughing as he chucked her gaily under the dimpled chin. “I suppose you are tired, my adorable little niece, from your long ride?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I am very tired and I am sure I shall sleep quite soundly. In fact, to be quite frank, I'm almost asleep on my feet right now, dear uncle.”

“All right, pet,” he said, pinching her again. “Go right to bed and tomorrow when you have had an opportunity to rest yourself, I will show you about the estate. Good night.” And leaving the room, he carefully closed and locked the door behind him.

He then cautiously approached the door on the other side of the library, leading to the divine Caroline's apartment and tapping softly upon the panel, he gently turned the knob and softly opened the door and entered. Caroline was engaged in the same task as her sister had been, placing her apparel in order, and upon the entrance of her uncle she rose to her feet and faced him. Her face was flushed and rosy, probably from the stooping attitude she had been in while unpacking her clothing. Her violet eyes sparkled like twin stars.

“I see you are very busy, Caroline,” he said, closing the door behind him and giving her a careful inspection, his eyes bright with passionate desire as they fairly ravished the girl's beauteous form.

“Yes, uncle,” she replied in a low murmur with a rather confused air. “I'm packing away some of my things.”

“Tired?” he asked.

“A little,” she replied. “You know, we had a long trip and it was rather fatiguing.”

“Well,” said he, “if you are not too tired, there are certain things I wish to discuss with you and I would be glad if you would come to see me in the library before you retire.”

“Certainly, uncle,” she replied demurely.

“I will call for you when I am ready,” he said. “I will rap on your door when I wish you. You may finish putting your things away.” So saying he left the room and closed the door. Opening the door that led into the vestibule, he looked about to see that all the servants had departed the house. Reentering the library, he closed the door and slipped the bolt.

Tiptoeing over to the door of Freda's room, he bent his ear to listen and was rewarded with the sound of heavy, regular breathing, indicating that the youngster, tired from the day's activities, was fast asleep.

Seating himself for a few moments in his easy chair, he allowed his mind to speculate upon the future pleasures which seemed about to be his, alone in his house with such charming creatures, his sensual nature suggesting many delights to which he would treat himself. Allowing sufficient time for Caroline to have finished her task of arranging her clothing, he went to the door, tapped upon it and said, “Come in now, dear; I am ready for you.”

Caroline opened the door of the room and stepped slowly inside. At a motion from her uncle, she seated herself on a couch and he, reseating himself in his easy chair, surveyed her from head to foot. She blushed nervously under his burning gaze and the lord, tearing his eyes from their appraisal of this luscious creature, folded his hands and addressed her: “I think, Caroline, that you will like it here.”

“Yes, uncle, I'm sure I will.”

“First,” said her uncle, crossing his legs and regarding her fixedly and somewhat sternly, “there are certain matters that we must discuss. That is why I had you come in. Your father-” He paused as he saw the girl's great violet eyes fill with tears at the mention of her father. “Your father,” he went on, “either could not or did not make any provision for yourself or your young sister. You are therefore both dependent upon me, as you have no other relatives. Without me you would therefore become public charges; you understand that, I suppose?”

“Yes, uncle,” she replied, tears coursing down her alabaster cheeks as she bowed her head. “We know you have been very good to us and I want you to know that Freda and I both appreciate it very much.”

“I am glad, Caroline, that you realize this,” he said. “Freda is too young to fully appreciate the situation you are in and it is for that reason that I am talking to you tonight. Your conduct will govern not only your own fate but that of your sister as well. I am sure that I won't be disappointed in you, Caroline.”

“I hope, uncle,” she replied, “that you will never have cause to regret your noble action in taking two unfortunate girls under your tender care; I assure you that we will both respect and adore you and will do our best to please you in every possible manner.”

“A pauper and a public charge is indeed an unpleasant thing, and a sad thing,” he said musingly, as though talking to himself, but artfully watching between his lowered lids the look of extreme terror that crossed the girl's features. “I wonder”-at this he turned and faced her-“I wonder if you really mean what you say? I wonder if I can be sure that in doing this benevolent act, in taking you girls into my home, I can be sure of your respect and obedience in all matters? Girls are headstrong creatures, you know.”

“Oh, uncle,” quivered the distressed maiden, reproachfully, “how could you doubt me? You have taken us into your wonderful home and surely you must not think we would ever be ungrateful to you.”

“It is easy enough to say that you pledge yourself to obedience and respect, but perhaps your ideas and mine might not agree at times, and then what would be your reactions?”

“Oh, uncle,” she replied, “I am sure you can believe me when I say we will do everything in accordance with your slightest of wishes.”

“Well, here is the situation, then; I am not a harsh man, but I do not propose to be taken advantage of on that account. I will agree to take you girls into my home on the same basis as though you were my daughters, but I will not be crossed in my wishes or plans for you. I must be the judge of your conduct; I must be the court of last resort as to what you will or will not do; I must be consulted in every plan and I will not be disobeyed; you must agree to conform to my every wish. For my part I will treat you kindly and take the best care of you that my wealth may command. Your course is open to you; you may remain here under those conditions, or you may make whatever other arrangements you see fit.”

“Oh, uncle. Of course Freda and I will both be just like daughters to you and do everything you say, and I am sure we can make you love us, we will be such good girls.”

“Well then, that's settled,” said he. “Come over and sit upon my knee,” he commanded. She rose immediately and gracefully came over to him, her face crimson, and sank upon his knee. She was apparently confused and embarrassed, but could hardly refuse the first request her uncle made, after having just agreed to obey him in all things.

He put his arm around her and drew her to him, kissing her passionately; she lay passive, permitting his embraces but returning them only lukewarmly.

His hand fell to her knee and he began to rub up and down her leg. Her face flushed a deep red, her eyes were closed and she murmured softly, “Oh, uncle, I don't think you ought to do that; the sisters taught us that it isn't very nice for a girl to permit a man to touch her body.”

^Now, Caroline,” he said, with a laugh, “the first thing we are going to do is to remove from your mind a great many things that the sisters taught you. I am your uncle and I certainly have a right to pet you,” pinching her thigh, which swelled beautifully from her knee to her hip. Her soft body lay in his arms and he could feel the round buttocks pressing against his leg as she sat upon his knee. He kissed her repeatedly-hot, passionate, sensual kisses which embarrassed the girl without seeming to provoke a response in kind. Holding her flaming face close, he kissed her entire countenance, her eyelids, her rosy cheeks, her wildly throbbing temples. Finally, loosening his arm from about her neck, he lifted his head, his sensual eyes almost starting from their sockets, and allowed his beautiful and panting charge to relax.

“Oh, uncle, uncle! Your kisses,” she murmured, as if about to swoon fairly away. “Your kisses, they seem to bum me so.” Lord Roxboro by this time was in a perfect ferment of delirious passion; he held the tender girl close to him and dropping an eager and trembling hand to the front of her dress, squeezed and molded the two swelling orbs that seemed to be strained as if to the bursting point. The confining hands held their perfect contours and squeezed them through the silken coverings. Caroline, her maidenly modesty aroused, strove with a weak hand to push this intruder away from her orbs of womanhood, but found her tiny fingers, like so many little white captives, enmeshed in her uncle's much larger and stronger digits.

“No, uncle! No! No! I beg of you,” she murmured in a low tone of voice as she snuggled about in an endeavor to evade his touches. “You must not-you must not touch me there. Oh, please don't!”

“Are you seeking an excuse to have me drive both yourself and your sister away from this house, from under my care? To have you sent to the poorhouse, where by right you belong?” he breathed, his voice hoarse with suppressed passion as he still fondled her breasts through the tight coverings.

“No! No!” murmured Caroline, this dread picture causing her to give vent to an involuntary shudder of fear. “We want to both stay here with you, uncle. But, uncle, you know it is not right for you to feel my person in this manner. Please let me go.”

“Silence, girl,” cried Lord Roxboro. “I will be very gentle with you and promise not to hurt you in the least-I merely wish to see how you have grown since I last saw you, my dear girl.”

“But, uncle-” she remonstrated as he unfastened the clasps that held the upper portion of her gown and allowed the front of it to descend, exposing her silken chemise and inserting his hand, caressed in its smooth warmness the panting bare flesh of her tender bosom. “Oh please, uncle, I beg of you,” she cried, and raising her hand, she endeavored to replace her dress, covering his hand in the attempt as he wildly tweaked and pressed and molded her tender pulsating globes.

Despite the beseeching looks from her eyes, turning toward him as if for succor, he continued his manipulations and handlings, and seizing one of the struggling girl's bubbies between his strong fingers, he drew it entirely out of its cosy covering and allowed it, naked and quivering, to lie bare before his sensual and lascivious gaze. Bending over her flaming face, he kissed her repeatedly and passionately. Transferring his attentions to her coral lips, he caressed them repeatedly; titillating the snowy surface of her bosom with his fingers, he held her to his bosom firmly.

The young girl struggled and kicked about in a wild desire to escape the hot burning caresses that were forced upon her by her passionate relative, and wildly beat her tiny hands against the head that was buried in her snowy bosom, his lips seeking out a standing nipple and biting the strawberry tip in gentle constriction. Lord Roxboro, compelled to desist for a moment, allowed her to escape from his embrace, and she sprang to her feet and, throwing herself upon the couch, burst into tears that would have melted a heart of iron.

Her cruel uncle, far from pitying her whom in his passionate desires he had forced to submit to so many strange feelings that had heretofore been unknown to her, surveyed the tearful beauty as she lay there, sobbing as if her heart would break. To his sensual mind she presented a lovely picture as she lay there, her clothing in disorder, her skirts reefed up about her adorable legs, displaying an expanse of well-turned calf; and after viewing this scene for a moment or two he spoke gently to the weeping maiden.

“Caroline! Caroline! Look at me, I want to talk to you.”

“Oh, uncle, uncle,” she sobbed. “I never thought you would treat me in this nasty way.”

“Caroline!” he said in a stern voice. “Do not act like a silly child; do you want me to instantly turn you out of the house, out on the road, into the cold, cruel world? Or do you prefer to do as I wish? Come, answer me at once. Do you want to remain here, with your sweet sister, or do you want to go?”

“Yes, uncle,” she sobbed after an interval. “I want to stay here, but oh, I wish you wouldn't embarrass me so by making me submit to these things that you have been doing-you know I can't leave here-we would have nowhere to go and you really oughtn't to take advantage of me in this way.”

“Well and good,” cried Lord Roxboro, “that's more like a sensible girl. Dry those foolish tears and come over here to me.

The girl slowly arose from the couch and walked hesitantly over to her uncle, the tears still streaming from her reddened eyes.

“Stand here,” he ordered, “directly in front of me.” He spread his legs and drew her to him. Reaching up, he again drew forth the beautiful rounded breasts, allowing them to stand forth wantonly from her open dress. The girl was embarrassed and, closing her eyes, she turned her head, overcome with modesty and shame at this exposure of her maidenly charms.

Lord Roxboro, passing an arm about her pliable lower form, drew the unresisting girl close to him. She held her arms close to her sides, her tiny fists tightly clenched, but when his hot hand fell to her calf and began to stroke her leg, she attempted to draw away.

“No, Caroline,” he soothed, “we have been all over that. Now, bear in mind if my patience is exhausted, something dire will be the consequence; stand close to me and allow me to have my pleasure and it will soon be over.”

She made no reply, simply hoping the ordeal would soon be over. He grasped the silken clad leg in his hand and, moving the fingers slowly upward, marveled at the magnificent proportions of her well-rounded calf. She squirmed slightly under this manipulation of her lower extremities but made no resistance. Passing his hand slowly up to her knee, he dallied for a moment with her garter buckle; then higher and higher he passed his hot hand, caressing the smooth, warm, tender flesh of her upper thigh, which was open to his touch beneath the lower protecting hem of her drawers.

She withstood his indecent explorings for a moment, then pulled herself away from him with a cry, pushing down the front of her dress, which had been raised during his pawing, and then rushing once more to the couch, she threw herself thereon and burst into tears.

This action exasperated the lord almost to frenzy. His prong now at fever heat, he was impatient with this stubborn virgin who could not be touched.

Leaping from his seat he pursued the unhappy maiden. “Ha! Proud pauper that you are! I will have you and your sister thrown out of this house at once. Your protestations of obedience come from the lips only-you have no intention of obeying me in any matter that does not meet your approval. Very well, then. Out with you. Get your sister and take yourselves out of this house, out into the world, and see what sort of treatment you will receive there. You treat your uncle as though he were an animal or a vile being. See if the world will give you any better treatment, once you are out of here. Get your sister and get out, both of you, this instant. I won't bother with such a stubborn creature as you seem to be!”

“No, uncle, no, no!” she cried, tears streaming down her lovely face as she looked upward into his frowning countenance. “I will do as you say, I really will-you embarrassed me, that is all. Please don't turn us out into the world, and I will do anything. Please give me just one more chance!”

“Well,” he growled, “one and only one more will you have, you brazen hussy.” Pulling her roughly to her feet his eyes burning with desire, he drew her closely to him. “I will take no chances with you this time, young lady! Go to your room immediately and bring me that hairbrush from your dresser! Quick!”

The frightened girl flew to her room and returned immediately with the silver-mounted hairbrush, which she handed to her uncle. Seating himself as before, he commanded the frightened and trembling maiden to come to him and stand as she had before, directly before him. Laying the brush on the taboret beside his chair, he again introduced his hand under her garments and began to toy with her limbs.

She stood perfectly still, too frightened to move or remonstrate. As his wanton hand strayed up her thigh, touching her bare skin, she gave a little shudder. His nervous hands explored her person, caressing the warm and rounded thighs, and then ventured toward that portion of her person which contained her most secret and delightful charms. As his hand touched her lower belly, her body involuntarily shrunk as she attempted to close her legs upon the sensitive grotto in an effort to defend herself against this rough invader. Wiggle and twist as he would, he found it impossible to introduce his fingertips between her tightly pressed thighs in order to touch her maidenhead. Abandoning his attempt at her crevice, his hand wandered upward toward her belly. Grasping the waistband of her panties, he jerked so that the buttons broke, allowing the drawers to drop slightly until supported by her hips. Her chemise he furled upward, allowing her belly to be naked, his hot fingers manipulating the soft roundness of her abdomen. Her satiny stomach quivered and trembled under his grasp. Now, grasping the top of her drawers, he pulled and tore the filmy material, which rended in a long tear, and he pulled the garment downward to her knees, exposing the whole front of her body. As he did so, the shamed girl dropped to her knees, crouching before him in a desperate effort to retain some shreds of her maidenly modesty.

He had not yet succeeded in touching her secret charms and, losing his patience, he seized the nipple of one of her bare breasts between his fingers and, giving it a cruel twist, shouted, “On your feet! On your feet, girl; stand up, I tell you!”

“Oh, uncle!” sobbed the blushing damsel, the tears dripping from her beautiful azure orbs. “You hurt me! You hurt me!”

“On your feet, I said,” he cried, continuing to tweak the tender nipple. “I have had enough of your foolish behavior; you would test the patience of a saint! Stand up, before I really hurt you!”

“Yes, yes,” she cried, scrambling to her feet, her drawers slipping down upon her well-formed legs until they lay about her slim ankles. “I'm up, uncle, I'm up.”

“See that you stay up, child,” he growled. Again placing his salacious hand beneath her skirts, he lifted them above her waist, exposing her whole glorious front to his lascivious gaze. The lustful creature ran his hand caressingly over her golden mount, covered with curling yellow hair that retreated between the whiteness of her smooth lovely thighs, forming a picture of beauty that would arouse the passion of a statue.

His busy hands explored her charms, caressing the warm white thighs, then slipping around in back of her to manipulate and mold the firm, rounded cheeks of her magnificent buttocks, soft as velvet. Then his busy finger found the soft crevice between her legs, felt the outer lips of her jewel of maidenhood. She stood passive, too frightened to move, as his finger divided the outer door of her pink cleft and forced its way into the tightly folded interior. As her hidden charms were thus suddenly and roughly violated, the trembling girl gave vent to an involuntary cry and her body shuddered violently. She attempted to withdraw from her uncle's embrace, pulling violently away from him.

“You hurt me, uncle, you hurt me; that hurts terribly,” she quavered, attempting to push down her dress in an effort to clothe her crimson nakedness. Her attempt was futile, however, as her powerful uncle drew her closer to him, petting her and soothing her in an effort to quiet her attempts to retreat.

His rod had for some time been in a terrible state, swollen and throbbing from passion, aching to be relieved. Drawing one of the girl's hands down to his pants, he pressed the delicate fingers against the huge prong that was distending the front of his trousers. “Squeeze it, Caroline! Squeeze it, darling; there's a good girl! Do that, it will help me greatly; you don't know how I am suffering, child!” said the lord as he pressed her hand tightly about the throbbing charger.

“Oh, uncle,” cried the girl, at the same time grasping the huge covered bolus in a tight embrace and gently squeezing it in her fingers. “Why must I do this, uncle?” she inquired.

“Take it out, girl-open my pants and take it out so you can feel it better, dear,” he cried, kissing her fervently and hugging her to him as her hand manipulated his huge member.

“Oh, uncle,” she cried, “please don't ask me to do that; you know that isn't nice; I wouldn't want to touch that nasty thing; please let me go.” Nevertheless she continued her hold on the member, her face covered with blushes.

“Must I break this hairbrush on your buttocks?” queried the lord. “You stubborn wench, you will force me to do something desperate. Do as I say, and quickly, or it will be the worse for you!” So saying, he seized the hairbrush and brought the bristle side of it smartly against her bare buttock, causing her to jump and utter a little scream of pain. “If you don't want a good spanking, do as I tell you,” the lust-maddened man growled.

“Yes, uncle,” she replied, fumbling with awkward hands at the fly of her uncle's trousers in an attempt to unfasten the unfamiliar clothing. Suddenly the buttons yielded, the front of his trousers flew open, and out sprang the gigantic pintle, its ruby head flushed and swollen, rampant with desire, the blue veins standing forth as though to burst.

“All right, woman, play with it-play with it!” the salacious man almost screamed, placing her hand on the enormous cock. “Rub it up and down.”

The girl immediately started squeezing and rubbing the hot surface of this strange implement. Obviously it was her first view of a man's organ and it seemed to repel her; yet at the same time she seemed to be attracted, her curiosity overcoming her modesty to some extent. She manipulated it for a few moments, giving the lord extreme pleasure as his busy fingers roamed over her person, titillating her clitoris and exploring her thighs, buttocks, belly, and breasts.

Suddenly he removed her hand from his member and touched it to the bare skin of her thigh. At the hot contact of the flaming object, she gave a gasp. He rubbed it against her leg for a moment and then said, “Lower yourself down on it, my darling,” at the same time grasping her by her hips and attempting to force her to sit upon his rigid prong.

“Oh, uncle! What are you trying to do? Oh, you will hurt me-I can't sit on that thing-it will hurt. Please, uncle, please don't make me do that.” She struggled in a frenzy to escape his grasp.

“Don't be silly,” he growled. “I'm not going to hurt you, child. All I want you to do is to sit on my lap and hold him between your thighs-you could certainly do that much for your uncle.” Pulling the trembling girl downward, he sat her upon his lap, his huge prong between her thighs, its head sticking up in front of her belly. “There now, look at him; doesn't he look funny, though?” laughed her uncle. “Squeeze him tight-that's right; now move just a little bit, up and down-oh, girl, that's delicious!” cried he, nearly beside himself with passion. Kissing her repeatedly, his hands fondling her buttocks and breasts, he slowly worked his hips from side to side as the beautiful girl, by now beginning to pant with passion from this salacious sport, slid her body forward and back slightly, at the same time squeezing His Majesty tightly between her beautiful thighs.

A few moments of this delightful sensation was sufficient for the long-suffering prod. With a sudden convulsive movement, the man strained the beautiful girl to his breast, kissing her madly, his bottom heaving up as though to throw her from him as a gush of hot sperm flew into the air from the head of the rampant cock, descending in a shower on the girl's bare thighs. She jumped and would have arisen from her position, but her uncle restrained her until, his orgasm passed, he relaxed against his easy chair, a smile on his face as he looked into the flushed countenance of his beautiful niece, now rosy with mingled lust and outraged modesty. “Well, that's that,” he said. “But I fear you are slightly messed, my dear.”

“Oh, uncle,” she giggled, as she viewed her legs now inundated with the shower of his sperm. “What nasty, hot sticky stuff that is-oh, I'm all covered.”

“That's all right, my dear; take this towel and wipe yourself off. You'll get to like that stuff; that's love juice and when you get used to it you won't think it's nasty at all.”

The girl took the towel and cleaned her legs and thighs, but made no attempt to arise from her uncle's lap. Her breath was coming in gasps and her skin burned; she was carried away with maidenly passion as the result of the strange goings-on, although she scarcely understood what caused her to be so hot and so filled with strange longings.

His desire only partly satisfied by his recent eruption, the man determined to carry the affair to an immediate conclusion. “Caroline,” he said, “you may now go to your room. Prepare yourself for bed, but do not put on any night clothing; you will receive me naked. I will be in your room as soon as I prepare for bed.” The girl started to remonstrate, but the look on her uncle's face frightened her and she arose without a word and went to her own room.

As she prepared herself for bed, the palpitating girl found herself in a maze of conflicting emotions. The events of the evening had been quite upsetting; like all girls, she had had a rather romantic idea of the relations between man and woman. Coming as she had to her uncle's home with absolutely no notion of any sex relationships, she was hardly prepared for her reception as, for instance, a young bride might have been who was spending her first night with her husband, or even the expectancy that a sweetheart might feel in anticipation of a tryst with a lover. Before arriving, the idea that her uncle might take liberties with her had never entered her head, and due to her sheltered life in the convent she had only the vaguest ideas as to the nature these liberties might take.

Consequently, as she disrobed and took her bath, she was a little dazed as to just what had happened and, more important, what was to happen. She thought upon her uncle's arrival with mingled feelings: fear of what he would do and hope that it would be enjoyable to her. After the first shock to her modesty had somewhat worn off, she was filled with a sort of curious anticipation as to what was in store for her. She dimly realized that ere long her uncle would insert into her maidenly cleft that enormous tool and she felt sure that it would kill her instantly, tearing her tender tissues, utterly rending her. She feared the ordeal, yet feared more the thought of being forced out into a cruel, harsh world with which she was entirely unfamiliar and where she would be the prey to she knew not what strange terrors. She slowly removed her clothing, took her bath, brushed her hair; then, her body burning with fear, shame, and passion, she considered whether she might disobey her uncle to the extent of concealing her body in a nightgown. She feared him, yet felt that his harshness might perhaps be a bit assumed; he was the type of man who would gain his ends, by force if need be, but preferably by persuasion. She decided to put on a nightdress, although she knew she would have to answer for her disobedience when her uncle appeared.

Lord Roxboro, after the girl's departure to her room, retired to his own chamber, which also opened off the library. Undressing himself, he bathed. Taking a stiff drink of a certain cordial that would quickly revive his masculine powers, he slipped into a dressing gown and slippers and stepped to the girl's room.

Opening the door, he discovered the room was in darkness. He groped his way to the dressing table and turned on a small rose-shaded lamp. Looking toward the bed, he discovered that the young lady had crept under the covers, which she had pulled up over her head, and lay there like a hunted thing, drawn up into a bundle, quivering with fear.

Stepping over to the bedside, he slipped off his robe and slippers and, sitting on the edge, pulled down the covers from the shrinking girl's head and shoulders. Noting that she wore a nightgown, he said, “I thought I told you not to put on anything.”

“Yes, uncle, but I am so ashamed-you wouldn't want me to be naked, would you? Please don't be rough with me.”

“Well, no clothes go here tonight,” said he. “Take it off this instant.”

The frightened girl obeyed, slipping the gown down around her shoulders, pulling it down toward her feet, at the same time attempting to keep herself covered by the clothing.

“Here, here, girl,” said he, “let's have done with this foolish modesty,” at the same time throwing the bed clothing downward to the foot of the bed, so that the burning maiden lay upon the sheet, shrunken up into a frightened ball, attempting to hide her nakedness with her gown. His ruthless hand clutched the garment, however, and, giving it a yank, he pulled it off over her feet and cast it to the floor. The naked, blushing girl lay there, burning with outraged modesty.

“Now, Caroline,” said he, “let's have a clear understanding of the situation here. You might just as well make up your mind to it and discontinue this foolish stubbornness. I suppose it is rather embarrassing to you, but you may as well understand that I intend to have you. You may fight if you wish, but it will only make it harder for you. I am stronger than you and will have you either with your consent or without it. If you continue as you have done, I will not only force you, but will then throw you and your sister out upon the street. You might just as well be sensible about it.”

“Yes, uncle,” said the quivering girl. “But please, uncle, promise me you won't hurt me, oh, please don't hurt me. I know what you are going to do and you will kill me, I know it will kill me-I simply couldn't stand it.”

“Now, leave that to me,” he said. “Other women have endured this and it certainly won't be any more trouble for you than it was for them; I am sure you will enjoy it in time, if you will get those foolish notions out of your head and be a good, sensible girl.”

Leaning over, he found her lips with his own and impressed upon them a burning, lascivious kiss, his mouth half-opened and his darting tongue titillating the girl's ruby lips, causing her strange sensations of lust which coursed up and down her body. Raising his head, he commanded her to stretch herself out straight upon the bed. She did so. His eyes devoured her beautiful figure stretched upon the snowy sheet, rosy with fire and glowing in the light of the rose-shaded lamp. He had her turn over and lie upon her face, then assume different positions as he admired the beautiful lines of her feminine beauty, his hands playing about her lovely limbs and breasts. His tool was stiff and hard, his breath came in gasps, and he was once more in a frenzy of desire.

Reaching out, he took the girl's hand and carried it to his burning member, about which he clasped her delicate fingers. His tool was amazingly long and hard-she could hardly encompass it with her fingers-and the length and breadth of this band of bone and gristle caused a shudder of excitement to course through the girl's frame.

The man, not satisfied with the feeling and pawing of this delicious creature, spread her legs and gazed long and fondly at the delicious moss-covered cleft, the mark of her femininity, and marveled at the smoothness and whiteness of her little rounded abdomen and the delicious swell of her well-turned breasts.

The girl, on her part, ventured a peek through her fingers at this male who was so boldly inspecting her most secret treasures and gained a better view of that terrible machine which a short time before had bespewed her lower limbs with its unctuous flow; once more she marveled at its immensity and at the gigantic sack that hung, pregnant with its charge of manhood, a wrinkled mass beneath the swollen weapon. The flourishing mass of black pubic hair that graced the lord up to his navel was a new sight for the girl and she gave it the benefit of a full inspection.

Tiring at last of this delicious inspection of the girl's most inner parts, the man longed for more active diversions. Throwing himself onto the bed alongside the girl, he took her into his strong embrace. They made a sensual picture as they lay there, clasped closely in each other's arms. The uncle, his caresses now seething in their heat, caressed the girl's eyes, her lips, her snowy neck and throat, and then, with a tantalizing slowness that drove the now expectant Caroline almost wild with emotion, lowered his lips to her strawberrylike nipples, which stood out boldly as if inviting this hungry attacker; gently biting these coral tips, he slowly sucked into his mouth the full substance of her breasts.

All of these caresses had an effect that was almost miraculous on the now throbbing girl. She twisted and squirmed from side to side, now pressing her body tightly against his, now throwing her legs violently over his and grinding her mount vigorously against his rampant member. Her uncle's kisses traveled downward from her breasts, tonguing and kissing the virgin mounts and valleys of her alabaster body, her belly and groin. She could not control herself from the emotions that pervaded her very being. Never before in her young life had she felt such emotion as she was now undergoing. She had never felt the hot touch of a lover's lips and tongue.

The lord, still enjoying himself to the utmost, his gorge rising high under these delightful manipulations, slipped down lower and lower until his eager tongue, erect and trembling, brushed over the golden locks of her delicious mount-turning the girl sidewise and parting her legs, he slipped his hot and glowing tongue within the crevice of her womanhood, that lump of heavenly delight that controlled her being, and licking and kissing this erectile mound, he soon had the girl in a ferment of soul-devouring passion.

She groaned, throbbed, and twisted from side to side under these divine touches administered by her sensual guardian; her eyes rolled wildly upward, her breath gasping as she rolled and twisted with clenched fists and quivering muscles.

Lord Roxboro, his mind full set upon achieving the purpose in his mind, now desisted from the sport and, moving upward on the bed, once more took the lovely, passionate girl in his arms, smothering her in his embraces, which she now met with fullest delight. His busy finger replaced his tongue as he gently manipulated and frigged her center of bliss, the girl writhing and twisting as if mad.

“Oh, uncle,” she breathed, her senses almost departing, “oh, uncle, what have you done to me that has affected me so? Oh, I just love you so much; you are the most desirable and sweetest man in the world! Oh, what you just did to me was the most pleasure I ever had in my life! Oh, it was lovely! More, uncle, please?” And she kissed him furiously, twisting and writhing in the bed as though afire, his finger titillating her clitoris in a manner to set her wild.

He now judged that the appropriate moment had arrived to ravish this lovely young creature. Pushing her back into the bed upon her back, he opened her legs widely. Getting on top of her and between her legs, he placed the head of his glowing member in the entrance of her grotto. The girl paid little attention to his maneuvers, seemingly in a half-swoon from passion. He placed the head of his cock against her panting slit and with a slight push of his thighs attempted to force it into her body. She immediately pulled away from him, with a slight moan and said, “Oh, uncle, please don't do that-that big thing won't go into me, it will kill me-oh, I'm afraid, I'm afraid; I know you will hurt me.”

The man made no answer. Despite her twists and wrigglings, he once more made the attempt and, having placed his member in the rosy lips of her cunt, he slowly forced his way into her cringing and quivering body, meeting with stubborn resistance from her virgin parts. However, he was successful in introducing the head of his enormous member for perhaps an inch. He stopped there, permitting the girl to become accustomed to this stretching of her most sensitive tissues.

“Oh, mercy, uncle! Oh, uncle, you are killing me! Oh, I'm dying; it hurts terribly-oh, please, uncle-oh, please, please stop!”

He was not to be dissuaded, however. Slowly, a little at a time he forced his way into the squirming girl; she attempted to push him off, her legs and arms threshing wildly as she moaned and whimpered softly that he was killing her; she knew she would die; she simply couldn't take that big thing. But as inexorably as fate he continued, slowly forcing his enormous tool into her delicate slit until finally, with a last strong push, he drove it clear to the hilt into her cavity. Working gently and slowly, he worked back and forth in her quim, his member ready to burst with the acuteness of pleasure from the touch of her warm, tightly constricted, and palpitating vulva. A few moves sufficed-with gaspings of breath and low groans he reached the climax-his excitement communicated itself to the girl, and in spite of her evident agony and pain, her feminine nature asserted itself and she likewise reached her orgasm, so that the two lovers spent together in one short, convulsive mutual grinding of hips and bodies, after which they both lay exhausted for a moment.

In a short time the lord lifted himself from the body of the girl, who lay as if dead, her head thrown back, her eyes closed, scarcely breathing; her heart, however, beat convulsively from the extreme exertion she had just been through.

Reaching a towel from the bedside table, he cleansed his now flaccid tool and tucked it between the girl's streaming thighs, lest the mingled sperm and blood stain the bed clothing. He lay beside her, holding her in his arms, kissing her tenderly. In a moment she half opened her eyes and he reassured her, saying that she would be all right.

“How do you feel?” he inquired.

“Oh, all right, dear uncle; I am sore and my back hurts, but I guess I am all right. I feel like I'm split open, though.”

“Oh, you will be all right, little sweetheart,” he said. “By tomorrow you won't feel anything. You will be just as good as new. Do you love your uncle, now?”

“Oh, uncle, you are just too sweet,” she replied, burying her face in his neck as her young arms crept around his shoulders and she pressed her body tightly to his.

It is said that no woman ever forgets the first man who has intercourse with her. She may not forgive him, but she won't forget him. Although our heroine had passed a rather hectic experience, her latent womanhood had been completely aroused in the last short hour and she was now completely grown up; the curtain had been lifted and she was enlightened as to the nature of many mysteries; she felt for this dominating male beside her the affection that many women feel for men who master them, and henceforth she was his to do with as he pleased. Which, perhaps, is as it should be.

We will leave them, then, for this chapter, locked in each other's arms, tired and happy after their evening of pleasure, as Morpheus sifts over them his powder of forgetfulness, Sleep.

Awakening the following morning, Lord Roxboro lay for some time studying the sleeping girl beside him. Suddenly she awoke and, glancing about her, encountered the eyes of her uncle. She made a move as though to jump out of bed, but he stopped her, pressed her gently back upon the pillow, and reassured her as to his intentions.

“You are somewhat feeble, I judge, to be up and about, my child,” he said. “You lie here for the time being and you can arise later.”

So saying, he got up from the bed, gathering up the soiled clothing that lay about the room. “If you wish to get up and bathe, you might do so,” he suggested.

“Oh, I am all right, I don't need any help,” said the girl, attempting to arise, but falling back with a little cry of pain.

“You see,” said the lord, “you are not as strong as you imagine yourself to be. Here, let me help you.” With the aid of his support, she made her way to the lavatory and her uncle departed to his own room, leaving the girl to perform her ablutions.

Returning to his own chamber, he made his toilet and prepared to descend to the dining room for breakfast. A thought striking him, he went to the door that led into Freda's room, unbolted it, and glanced at the sleeping figure of the lovely child. As he stood there surveying the little neat pile of clothing, the cambric drawers and petticoat, together with the chemise laid upon the chair alongside the bed, a feeling of desire came to him to see more of the body of his young niece. But controlling his desire, he left the room and closed the door behind him, making his way to the lower portion of the house.

The servants were up and about, busy in their preparations for breakfast. In a short time Miss Freda made her appearance at the breakfast table. She inquired as to the whereabouts of her sister, Caroline, and he informed her that Caroline was not feeling well and ordered Marie to serve Caroline's breakfast in the young lady's room.

Marie, the maid, was well used to the peculiar actions of her master and showed no sign of surprise, but carried a well-filled tray up the stairs.

“Freda,” said Lord Roxboro, turning his attention to his younger niece, “I wish you would view the estate this morning. After breakfast Marie will take you for a walk about the grounds and as the estate is quite large, I wish you to take your time, so that you may view all of its varied attractions.”

“Yes, uncle,” responded Freda, busy with her breakfast. “I will go with Marie, as you say.”

The maid soon returned to the room, whereupon Lord Roxboro directed her as to his desires for Freda to see the estate. At the conclusion of the meal, Marie fetched Freda's wraps and led her away in full accord with her uncle's design.

After dispatching the other servants upon errands that he knew would take some time, he proceeded once more to the upper portion of the house and, entering his library, locked the door and walked over to the one that entered Caroline's boudoir. Entering her room, he found her, as he had expected, sound asleep.

He pushed the door to and bolted it. Quickly disrobing himself, he turned down the coverlet, slipped in beside the sleeping girl and drew her into his arms. She was still completely nude, having neglected the opportunity to don a nightgown after her bath, and had evidently come directly into bed from the bath, although the empty dishes on the tray at the bedside informed him that she had eaten the food brought to her by the maid.

As he pressed burning kisses upon the girl's lips and squeezed her in his arms, she awakened, and realizing that her companion was her sensual uncle and ravisher of the night previous, she snuggled close to him and prepared to drop off into her interrupted slumbers once more.

He passed his arms gently around her slender naked waist, luxuriating in the feel of the smooth, elastic, bare flesh, and squeezing her divine form close to his own burning nakedness, he kissed her passionately upon her cherrylike lips. At these tempestuous caresses, Caroline opened her orbs, and moving uneasily in the bed, as if sensing his lustful desires, sought weakly to escape the crushing embrace. Her passion of the night before had been satiated, and her maidenly modesty once more reasserted itself; besides which, she remembered the painful experience of the night previous, and even now her maidenly slit was somewhat raw and throbbing with the pain from the terrific stretching and abrasions it had received the night before, the torn tissues still paining her considerably.

“No, no, little sleepyhead,” chided the lord. “Uncle must be permitted to feel and caress his little girl. I want to know just how badly you are injured. From the way you carried on last night, I might almost have expected to find you a cold clammy corpse this morning, instead of such a delightfully warm and rosy-cheeked little darling. Come, let uncle see what terrible damage has been wrought!” Disengaging one of his hands from about her waist, he slipped it down in between her tightly pressed thighs and forced the trembling flesh apart; then, running his hand over the lower portion of her naked belly, over her shrouded silken cove, he gently divided her lower lips and inserted within an impudent forefinger.

The girl moaned at his touch, but made no move to dissuade him. As his tantalizing finger coursed upward in her cleft, coming finally to the rended portion, she gave a little scream of pain and endeavored to draw away. He withdrew his finger at her exclamation and contented himself with toying with her breasts and belly, smoothing and caressing the soft white flesh between his fingers and engorging her sentinellike nipples until they stood out hard and rigid as bits of iron, as though to battle an invader of her feminine charms.

These touches and caresses had their effect upon the operator; the passionate man now felt his emotions rise in a seething state. His rod, swollen and engorged, the blue veins standing out strongly on its pinkish white surface, was in a state of extreme erection; the swollen head and gigantic length banged in convulsive jerks against Caroline's naked thighs. Straining her close to him, he allowed his bold hands to range at random over the figure of the beautiful girl.

“Reach down, sweet, and feel the object that has been the cause of all this terrible commotion,” cried Lord Roxboro, his pulse beating at his temples. “Squeeze it for me and make it leap, the same as you did before. Come now, my pretty.”

In compliance with her uncle's desires, she reached down a tiny hand and strove to encompass the giant breadth of the swollen organ that leaped in her clasp. This squeezing and massaging of his bolus seemed to infuse in the sensual Lord Roxboro sensations of the greatest pleasure, and as Caroline squeezed, rolled, and pressed it, stripping the foreskin back from the angry red head, he wiggled about in ecstasy.

“Wonderful, Caroline, wonderful!” he whispered, burying his flaming face in her nipple-hardened breast and encompassing one of the stalwart sentinels within his lips. “My little girl's touches and caresses excite me to a delirium! You are an apt pupil, my adorable niece! No other hand has instilled within me the sensations that now pervade me! Faster, dear one, faster!” And Caroline herself, despite her short apprenticeship, began to become permeated by the sensual warmth that seemed to exude from her uncle.

Her blood seemed to be afire, and strange sensations coursed through that portion of her anatomy that had heretofore been unused by her except to satisfy the calls of nature.

Throwing her arm about her dissolute uncle's neck, her other hand manipulating his giant pego, she returned his kisses and caresses with equal ardor. He lifted the now panting girl, rolled her over on her back, spread apart her milk-white thighs and then, mounting her, presented the head of his engorged instrument at the mouth of the sorely battered breach. The sudden touch of its rigid red head against her lower lips caused a quick wave of fear to pervade the fair Caroline, and remembering the pain she had undergone on the previous evening, she made an involuntary movement to close tight her thighs.

Too late, however. Much as she dreaded the charge of the huge machine, much as she attempted to grip her thighs together and tossed about the bed, the lord still held his vantage.

“Please, uncle,” she cried softly, “you know very well you hurt me dreadfully last night. I will never be able to stand it again-you are too big for me and I know you are going to hurt.”

“Nonsense, Caroline,” he reassured her. “See, I will put some spit on his head and around your little pussy and he will slip into you so easily you won't hurt a bit.” So saying, he moistened his fingertips with a little saliva, which he applied to the girl's pink slit and also to the head of his own organ; then, applying the head to the girl's delicious cavity, he gently inserted it and pushed it slightly in. “How's that? Does that hurt?”

“Oh, ouch!” she cried. “It bums dreadfully, ouch-it hurts-oh! oh! oh! Ah! A-a-a-a-h! Oh, that's better-that doesn't hurt now-oh, that's good, uncle!”

“I thought so,” he remarked. “It was bound to hurt you some last night-we burst your maidenhead, but you will be all right now-perhaps a little bit sore, but you will soon get over that. Now that your little pussy has gotten stretched a bit, you will find you won't have any more trouble.”

His swollen rod slowly forced its way into her sheath, which, under the lubrication of the saliva, seemed to offer little resistance, its walls stretching to receive the huge intruder; indeed, the feelings of lust engendered in the girl overcame the slight burning sensations which bothered her and she heaved her bottom up to meet the thrust of her uncle's hips. The smarting and soreness seemed to mingle with the pleasure, causing a sensation of extreme piquancy in her warm and throbbing quim.

Lord Roxboro, having thus made his complete entry, lost no time in discussions with the girl, but burying his face into her bare shoulder, he could feel his tool slowly forcing its way up into her swollen, hot cavern, dividing the tender flesh; her membranes clasped about his rod in throbbing to-and-fro contacts that nearly drove him wild with frenzy, the maddened girl's body wildly tossing to meet his movements, as their pelvic hair merged in the tight contact of love.

Resting a bit after having pierced the tender girl, he slowly began that tantalizing in-and-out motion so dear to the members of the softer sex, and after a few of these master strokes, Caroline's arms tightly clasped about his neck, returning his kisses with equal ardor, her strawberry tongue reaching forth to meet his, she suddenly began to tremble in the anticipatory signals of the orgasm.

This was more than her uncle could stand, and with one great shove he gushed into her a flood of sperm, feeling the girl wince beneath him, by the spasms of her tender vagina he knew that she also was spending-as the slit tightened and quivered about his throbbing member, he felt he must lose consciousness with sheer delight.

“Oh, uncle, uncle,” moaned the girl, her loins writhing about as if mad, as she felt the balsamic juices spurting from her, “I am dying, uncle! Oh, uncle! That's so g-o-o-d-so good! Oh! Uncle! I love you so, dear uncle; oh, I love you so!”

He had collapsed in an exhausted heap upon the body of the fair girl, his staff still firmly embedded within, her. They lay as though spent, when, finally their panting breath subsiding, he kissed her gently upon the lips and drew himself upward as though to arise, but felt himself clasped by the tender girl and held fast in her embrace. “Stay here a minute,” she whispered, “Don't get up yet.”

“What, Caroline!” he said, pretending to be astonished at the actions of his beautiful niece. “You were slow to receive my advances-don't say you want to continue this painful operation?”

The girl blushed furiously and buried her golden mop in the neck of her guardian. Lord Roxboro, remaining quiet for a few minutes, then lifted himself from the girl, withdrawing his rod, at the same time placing a towel over the girl's reddened slit to catch the flow of their mingled sperm. The touch of the rough towel against the girl's sensitive parts seemed to inflame her. Squeezing her legs tightly together, she rolled quickly over on her side and hid her flaming face in the pillow. This movement brought her pink buttocks uppermost to the gaze of her enraptured uncle, who stood there studying the rounded contours of her posterior, thinking to himself of the delights they should afford to him later on. He patted her bottom, rubbing his hand over its velvety smoothness, then took himself to bathe his now flaccid member.

Returning to the room, he stood beside the bed. The girl peeped up at him between her fingers, saying, “I think I will get up now; I'm not a bit sleepy anymore.”

“Very well, my sweet,” he said, “you may arise and dress. When you have done so, please come downstairs to the living room; I am going to ask you to do some errands for me later on.”

“Surely, uncle,” she replied. “I will be glad to.”

“I want you to go into town and do some shopping. I want you to get yourself some new dresses and things of that sort; you are so lovely that I must keep you dressed in a manner fitting to your beauty.”

She flew to him and threw her arms about him in a tight squeeze. “Oh, you are the dearest old dear, uncle,” she cried. “Are you going to buy me lots and lots of dresses?”

“Not so fast, not so fast!” laughingly warned her guardian. “Why, the first thing I know, you will want me to buy out all of the stores. I see I will have to be conservative with my little darling or she will have me in the Poor House in no time.” Laughingly he kissed her, as his hands caressed her firm, round breasts and cool, globular buttocks. “Run along now and get dressed; then come downstairs and we will see about this matter of shopping,” he directed, and as the girl went to her bath, he returned to the library, thence to the lower part of the house, where he awaited his charming niece in the large living room.

“And now, uncle, what will I be allowed to buy?” queried the charming creature when she appeared a short time later, framed in the doorway to the living room, her eyes dancing and her rosy cheeks aglow.

“You are a true woman, I see,” he remarked. “No need for a second invitation to a shopping trip. Ah, Vanity, Vanity, thy name is Woman.” With a laugh he beckoned her to come to him and drew her to his knees where she snuggled herself like a kitten, all aglow with the thought of being able to procure pretty dresses and such things so dear to the feminine heart.

“Well, let's see,” he began. “About four dresses for yourself, perhaps two hats, say three pairs of shoes and two of slippers, a dozen or so pairs of stockings. That's for you. Now, you may also buy for me, while you are shopping-” Here he stopped and looked at her quizzically. “I reserve the right of having you purchase some articles of feminine apparel that are for my especial benefit.”

“For you, uncle?” exclaimed the girl, her eyes wide with astonishment. “Why, uncle! What can it be that you wish me to get for you?”

“Not for me, exactly,” he replied, kissing her. “What I want you to get is a half dozen pair of the finest, sheerest, thinnest drawers that you can find in the town. I will derive the satisfaction of seeing you appareled within them!”

“Oh, uncle,” murmured the girl, dropping her head and blushing in confusion, “you shame me so.” It did seem embarrassing to her to discuss such intimate articles of apparel with a man, and she blushed furiously.

“I want you,” said Lord Roxboro, placing a finger beneath her chin and tilting her face upward until he looked straight into her eyes, “I want you to get the thinnest, sheerest, silkiest, and laciest drawers that you can find in the shops. Be sure that they fit you tightly so that they will outline that divine form of yours. And open ones! Be sure of that! Get the ones that open as wide as possible and are slit down the back! None of the closed type, such as your present wardrobe possesses. Perhaps you can guess whether we may have need in the future for the open style.”

“But, uncle,” whispered the girl, “I have never worn the kind of-the kind of drawers that you mention. The open ones, especially! You know, the girls in the convent only wear the thick, closed kind!”

“You are no longer in the convent, my dear child,” said Lord Roxboro, bending over and kissing-the delicious girl, “and you are no longer a child, nor should you conduct yourself as such. You are now a woman and will henceforth wear a woman's garments; see that your clothes are stylish and of the best quality, you are fit to wear the best, with your beauty.”

“Very well, uncle,” said she demurely. “I will do exactly as you direct.”

“Good,” said Lord Roxboro. “I will have the coachman waiting at the side entrance as soon as you are ready to go. You may get your cloak, and I will order the carriage for you.”

With this the girl departed for her room to prepare herself for the shopping tour. Upon returning downstairs, she found the coach awaiting her. Lord Roxboro had already informed the coachman as to his desires, and Caroline, after seating herself within the carriage, leaned back against its silken cushions, and while musing over the exciting adventures that had occurred to her in the last twenty-four hours, she was rapidly driven to the town.

The coach presently stopped before what appeared to be an exclusive establishment and Caroline accepted the coachman's arm as he assisted her to alight. Upon entering, she was greeted by the proprietor, who informed her that Lord Roxboro had directed that she was to select anything she might desire, to be charged to his account.

Caroline immediately busied herself in the selection of gowns, shoes, hats, etc., then asked to be shown some lingerie. The shopkeeper displayed for her inspection some underthings of cambric such as were in vogue for girls of Caroline's age, but she brushed them aside, inquiring for better material.

The shopwoman then showed her a fine assortment of shimmering, foamy, lacy, silken garments, of the sheerest, thinnest texture and extreme lightness. Caroline selected six pairs of elegant drawers and an equal number of chemises, being careful to select the open style as per her uncle's directions.

Fingering the delightful texture and noting the extreme thinness and diaphanous nature of the garments, which would reveal more than they would conceal, she could not help a feeling of modesty at the thought of securing such lovely garments for the purpose of exposing herself to her uncle's delighted gaze, yet what woman wouldn't have been thrilled at the thought of wearing such beautiful garments?

Completing her purchases with several pairs of the sheerest of silken hose and several pairs of beautiful garters, she summoned the coachman, had him convey her purchases into the coach, and, seating herself therein, was driven rapidly back to the mansion.

Lord Roxboro was not in evidence upon her return, but calling the maid, she had her bundles transported to her boudoir, where she quickly unpacked them, delighted herself with admiring them, and then packed them away in the chest. Then making her way to the living room, she found her uncle had returned and was engaged in conversation with her sister, Freda.

Freda had evidently enjoyed her trip about the estate, and her cheeks were a fine, rosy color, her eyes sparkling with youthful health and spirits as she prattled on about the lakes, animals, etc., that had been the objects of her inspection.

As Caroline entered the room, Lord Roxboro rose to his feet and made her a courtly bow; she curtsied in return and seated herself on the couch to listen to Freda's prattle. Caroline could hardly realize that this man, this courtly gentleman, man of rank, had but a few short hours before assaulted her most brutally in his lust and had sacrificed her bleeding hymen upon the altar of his desires! A tenant of this house a bare twenty-four hours and no longer possessed of her virginity! It seemed scarcely credible. And yet, she could not feel badly toward him. He had been her first lover- perhaps not the type she would have selected had it been left to her romantic, girlish wishes, and yet certainly a virile, handsome man. Her eyes stayed to the front of his trousers, where was lodged that terrible engine that had so brutally outraged her virginity on the preceding night. Lord Roxboro, after the fashion of the time, wore a pair of rather light-colored and tightly fitting trousers, which outlined the shape of his legs and showed a decided lump where rested his manly organs. Glancing at Caroline, he noted that her eyes were fastened upon this part of his person; she suddenly looked up to meet his eyes, and immediately dropped her own, her face flaming crimson at the thought of having been detected in gazing at that portion of his body.

However, Freda was prattling on, and in the small talk that followed, the incident was allowed to pass apparently without notice.

In a few moments Lord Roxboro retired, leaving the girls by themselves. This gave them their first opportunity to converse together since the day before, at dinner.

“How do you like it here, Carrie?” queried Freda.

“Oh, it is very nice, indeed,” she replied. “I think we shall love it here with uncle. Do you like it here, Freda, as well as the convent?”

“Oh, yes,” the child replied, “I like it very much. Uncle is very nice to us and I hope he will allow us to remain here always. Oh, Carrie, you really should know how big and vast this estate is! And the chickens! And the horses! And the big stables! Come, I will show them to you, if you will walk with me.”

“Perhaps we had better first ask uncle's permission,” said Caroline, looking toward the door and wondering if her uncle was arranging for a further plaguing of her person. “It will be best, Freda, that we always tell uncle where we will be, at least until we have been here for a time. Wait until he returns and I will ask him if it will be all right for us to walk about the place. We must be very obedient and respectful to uncle, you know.”

At this juncture, Lord Roxboro appeared in the doorway, and Caroline in a demure voice inquired if it would be all right for the two girls to take a walk about the grounds.

“Oh, certainly,” he replied, patting her upon the shoulder and pinching Freda's cheek. “Run along and inspect the place. You haven't had a chance to do so as yet.” Apparently as an afterthought, he asked, “Oh, by the way, Caroline, did you take care of the errand I spoke to you about?”

“Oh, yes, uncle,” she replied. “Just as you instructed; I secured the material you ordered and it is in my room upstairs.”

“That is wonderful,” he said, rubbing his hands and beaming upon the two girls. “When you have returned I wish to see you in the library, girls. Be gone now, darlings, so you will have time to look about and be back in time for luncheon.”

With this the girls departed, and under Freda's eager guidance Caroline was conducted on a tour of the grounds. They were extensive, covered with rolling fields and green meadows. The stables were large and in splendid order, Lord Roxboro owning a string of fine-blooded horses, which he bred upon his estate.

At the present time the stables were apparently vacant with the exception of the custodian, a stalwart lad of about eighteen, of rough but handsome appearance. He stood by respectfully while both girls inspected the stables, answering all of their questions in regard to the horses and dogs and the estate in general. Caroline, noting the vast hayloft that filled the upper portion of the barn, asked her sister Freda if she had visited it upon her previous tour.

“Why, no,” cried Freda. “Let's go up and see it, Caroline.”

“Would it be all right if we went up and inspected the hayloft?” inquired Caroline of the boy.

“Certainly, miss,” he answered. “You may go anywhere you wish. If you will wait a moment, I will get the ladder.”

Caroline's gaze followed the handsome youth as he turned to go for the ladder. He was a fine manly specimen of youthful vigor, and after her experience of last night with her sensual uncle, persons of the male sex aroused in her a curious interest. She wondered if this handsome stableboy, like her uncle, possessed hidden in his trousers an article of gigantic dimensions; whether it were more or less in size and virility.

Musing thus, she awaited his return, and in the meanwhile bent a thoughtful gaze upon her little sister. Freda was growing up, no doubt about it. Already two plump little mounds were pressing out her breast; her legs, so much as Caroline could see of them, were full and rounded, no longer like sticks; her little backside was undoubtedly filling out and a very definite curved shape was pushing out the back of her skirt, giving promise of a lovely form concealed therein.

How long would this child just budding into womanhood be safe from the assaults of her lecherous uncle? Caroline sighed as she thought of it. But realizing fully that these unmistakable signs of approaching womanhood in her younger sister would not be without effect on her sensual guardian, she saw no way of forestalling his advances, did he choose to make them; and a tear dimmed her eye as she thought of the helplessness of herself and her young sister, penniless and forlorn as they were, in the clutches of this pampered uncle of theirs, whose desires ruled his life and whose conscience seemed to be completely atrophied.

At this point in her musings, the boy returned with the ladder, which he placed against the side of the haymow, and up which the girl leaped nimbly. As she clambered upward, the ladder being a long one, her stocky legs and well-formed underpinnings were brought into relief to both spectators' eyes, due to the shortness of her childish dress.

Casting a sidewise glance at the stableboy as he stood there beside her, Caroline noted that his eyes were turned directly upward toward Freda's legs, as the young girl advanced higher and higher, her white cambric panties and a portion of her delicious bare thighs were revealed to the eager boy's enraptured gaze.

His sparkling eyes seemed riveted upon Freda's shapely form, and Caroline, taking advantage of his interest in this desirable, lascivious sight, ventured a glance down at the front of his pantaloons and was amused to note a distinct swelling in the neighborhood of what she knew was the center of his sexual emotions. Finally, Freda, gaining the top, disappeared over the edge of the haymow and the boy motioned to Caroline to ascend.

“Oh, no!” murmured Caroline in a confused manner, her mind in a conflict of emotions due to the sight she had caught of the youth's swollen engine through his trousers and remembering the sight of her sister's bare thighs exposed to view. “I–I-J will go up after; you go up now. I will wait till you are up, then I will come.”

“No, miss,” he said respectfully. “I couldn't allow you to risk it. The ladder is shaky and if I don't hold it, it might topple over with you and you might be seriously injured. The master would never forgive me if anything should happen to you.” He bowed and, raising his eyes, regarded her intently.

Caroline, feeling that this youth was reading her thoughts, blushed confusedly and, not knowing what else to do, decided to carry on. Gathering her skirts about her ankles so that the presumptuous youth should have no more of a view than was necessary, she prepared to ascend. The boy grasped her arm gently and helped her mount the lowest rung of the ladder. The pressure of his warm hand through her thin waist gave her an almost electric shock, a most peculiar sensation, which she found impossible to classify as she slowly mounted the ladder. Turning to him she said, “What is your name, young man? Mine is Caroline, that of my sister is Freda. We are Lord Roxboro's nieces.”

“My name is Carl-Miss Caroline-Carl Silvers,” he answered, his vibrant voice seeming to thrill her to her soul as he still held her firmly by the arm.

“I suppose we will see you often, Carl,” she said, casting a coquettish look upon him as she started to climb. He released his grasp of her arm and she started to ascend the ladder. She found it impossible to control her dress about her legs and cling to the ladder at the same time.

Sacrificing her modesty for safety, she tried to climb upward as quickly as possible, knowing the boy's eager eyes must be intently fastened upon her legs under the open garment, and almost slipped and fell as her foot missed a rung.

“Careful, miss!” came that vibrant voice from below. “Be careful or you will fall; please hold tightly to the sides of the ladder.”

She ventured a look downward at this youth who affected her so strangely, and as she had expected, his sparkling eyes were directed upward. A hot flush of shame enveloped her as she thought of the wide expanse of her most secret charms that must be, by now, unveiled to those greedy eyes. Hurriedly ascending the remaining rungs, she clambered onto the haymow.

The boy, with agility, speedily followed, and together with Freda, Caroline inspected the large store of hay. Carl seemed respectful and polite to a degree that Caroline was somewhat surprised to find in a stableboy, and he bore a certain air of refinement and charm that was rather strange in one of his station.

They shortly descended to the floor of the stable and in a few moments were ready to depart. “Glad to have met you, ladies,” the boy said. “I hope you will like it here at Roxboro Manor and if there is anything you would like me to do, I will be only too gratified to serve you.” With a bow he showed them out of his domain.

“Isn't he a nice boy, Carrie?” inquired Freda as the two girls left.

“Yes, he is,” replied Caroline, “but remember, he is only a stableboy, and one mustn't be too friendly with the servants, you know.”

“Oh, I'll remember, all right,” replied the child.

“Freda,” said Caroline, “let us step over to this summer-house for a few moments. I would like to talk to you. We have had very few opportunities to talk together confidentially, and there are a few things I would like to discuss with you.” With this the two girls, arms entwined, walked over to an inviting little vine-covered summerhouse on the edge of a small lake which lay in the grounds. Seating themselves on a bench, Caroline continued: “Freda, you must realize that I have never had an opportunity to talk frankly to you as an older sister to a younger. You know by now that you are just entering into real womanhood. There are many changes that are taking place in you physically, changes that may come as a surprise to you but which are common to girls of your age. Do you really know what I mean, dear?”

“I think perhaps I do, Carrie dear,” answered Freda in a low tone. “I think I know exactly what you mean. The girls and I were talking at the convent and they told me lots of things. In a little while I will fill out and get big and be like you, Carrie. I will have nice, big breasts and nice legs and be a grown-up lady like you are.”

Yes, thought Caroline, you will be like me: ruined, your virginity sacrificed, a plaything of a man's passion. She wondered how much her younger sister knew of woman's common enemy, man-she wondered how much she herself knew of that strange animal. She knew that some of the girls in convents and boarding schools frequently were quite precocious; they learned things from older girls, some of them false and some of them enlightening. She intended at the earliest opportunity to quiz the child to find out just how far her knowledge went, just what she had learned from her schoolmates. She decided not to do it at this time, however.

“Come, Freda,” she said, “it is near lunchtime. Uncle instructed us to return in time for lunch and we had better hasten back to the house. Later on, when we have more time, we will look around the estate more. Let us return now.”

The girls trudged back to the mansion, Freda on her entrance retiring to her room to refresh herself, and Caroline, according to her uncle's instructions, repairing to the library. She found him seated there, evidently awaiting her arrival. Upon her entrance he rose and closed the door behind her.

“I see that you are prompt, at least, Caroline,” he said, reseating himself and gazing at the fair girl. “Your walk about the grounds has brought roses into your cheeks-you look charming!”

“Nice of you to say so, uncle,” she replied, walking over to him and seating herself on his lap. She threw her arms around his neck, kissing him full on the lips. “Thank you so much for the pretty things you allowed me to buy,” she said.

“Tut, tut, my child. You are a beautiful woman and you will require beautiful clothes; it gives your uncle pleasure to be able to provide you with the things that will enhance your beauty. By the way, where are the precious things?” he inquired.

“Oh, I put them away carefully in my room. Do you want to see them?”

“Not now; we must go to lunch, but immediately after lunch we will inspect your purchases and I will see whether I approve your taste in selection, although I am quite sure I shall.”

Pulling her head down', his lips found hers; his hands were busied about her person, one of them finding its way under her dress, up inside the white lingerie until it reached the mossy dell, which he fingered gently, while at the same time her hand had sought his member. Slipping the buttons open on the front of his trousers, she guided her witching fingers into the opening, grasped his now virile tool and massaged it gently until it seemed ready to burst. A few moments of this dalliance, however, and her uncle pushed her from him. “I declare,” he said, “you would have me going off in just another minute, you bad girl. We had better go down to luncheon, or I fear I shall have to take you to bed again to relieve myself.” So, laughing, they descended the stairs to the dining room, where a delightful luncheon had been spread, and where they found the little girl, whose childish appetite made her impatient for luncheon to be served.

Luncheon over, Lord Roxboro gave orders that the carriage be called for and sent Freda for a drive about the countryside, accompanied by Marie.

He then repaired with Caroline to her boudoir for an inspection of her purchases of the morning.

Caroline brought out the articles for her uncle's inspection. He carefully examined them and congratulated her upon her good taste in the selection of her dresses. Paying little attention to the outer garments beyond a very casual inspection, he centered his attention upon the lingerie. Holding a pair of the thin drawers up to the light so that he could admire their thinness, he lustfully fingered the texture and admired the color of the garments. Caroline herself thought that she had shown good taste in the selection of the pair that her sensual uncle now examined with such delicate care.

Made of peachblow silk, the material was as thin as a breath of vapor, almost transparent, and garnished about the bottoms with little pink silk rosebuds, the lower part being tight to clasp closely to the figure. The upper portion, that surrounding the waist, instead of fastening with common buttons, as the cambric ones did, was laced up the sides with two broad silken ribbons of delicate pink hue that threaded through the material of the garment and tied in bows at the sides.

The center of this delicate garment, all the way up, both front and rear, was slit generously open, and Caroline imagined that once the garment was donned, the soft silken ribbons drawn tight and tied, this sheer fabric would embrace her thighs and posterior like a glove, outlining the contour of her lower form as though she were encased in skin tights.

This sheer pair, the drawers of drawers, as Caroline mentally classified them, seemed to be the particular favorite of her uncle and he handled them lovingly, a sensual look glazing his eyes as he fingered them. They did not, however, detract his attention from the other garments, and he slowly examined all of them, softly caressing the thin, sheer, silken chemises, cut extremely low in the bust, and the soft flowing hosiery; finally, with a repleted sigh, he laid to one side the peachblow panties, a chemise to match, and a pair of elegant openwork stockings.

“These, Caroline,” he said, indicating the shimmering pile of intimate garments, “you'll oblige me by donning immediately after you have bathed. I will retire now to my own room. Immediately you have prepared yourself, knock on the door to the library, where I will be awaiting your signal.”

Caroline immediately proceeded to carry out her uncle's instructions. Removing her clothing, she went to the bath, turned on the tap, and prepared to bathe. The soak in the tepid water was refreshing to her, and upon drying herself thoroughly, she dusted her pink nakedness with a faintly perfumed powder.

Lifting a leg to the edge of the bath, she stood before the tall pier glass and carefully inspected that portion of her person which had been the subject of her uncle's sensual assaults. It was still slightly sensitive to the touch, as the irritation and soreness had not fully departed.

Carefully donning the sheer, transparent chemise selected by her uncle, she drew on the silken stockings and struggled into the peachblow drawers. True to her mental prophecy, they fitted skintight, and as she drew tight the dainty ribbons that closed the gaping sides, she feared to bend or twist lest she split the delicate garment.

The gaping rent that uncovered her most secret charms, both front and rear, bothered the modest girl quite a deal, and she endeavored to draw it close in order to cover as much of those parts as possible, but nearly cried in vexation as her efforts only seemed to cause the gap to open even more widely. To be thus uncovered, even in the privacy other own boudoir, impelled in the fair girl a strong sense of shame, and the tightness of the silken garments that clung so tightly to her pulsing flesh seemed worse than no clothing at all.

Suppose Carl, the stableboy, the handsome youth of her afternoon's adventure, should see her ascend the hayloft ladder attired as she was now? She closed her eyes and gave a sensual little quivering shiver at the thought of the handsome boy's actions as he gazed beneath her unfurled dresses. Never would that happen, of course! At any future visits to the precincts of the vibrant-voiced youth, she determined to have those secret parts encased in the strongest of fabric.

These thoughts of the handsome stableboy, although he had conducted himself as a thorough gentleman, caused a tumult in the beautiful girl's mind, and she could not understand them. Although he had not touched her, she sensed a danger in the contact with this virile lad and experienced vague uneasiness at the thought of him. Probably by now he had dismissed her from his thoughts, together with her sister.

Caroline inspected her store of new dresses and was at a loss to decide which one to wear. Why did not her uncle, displaying such care and interest in the selection of her more intimate garments, at the same time select a dress for her? This would have at least made her task easier. But stop! A thought came to the modest girl which nearly rendered her breathless. Had the lord, in his instructions, mentioned a dress at all? Probably the omission of mention of the outer covering was intentional! It may be that her sensual guardian wished her to appear before him clad simply as she was! Oh no! Surely he would not ask her to do that!

She quivered with indecision. She did not want to willfully disobey Lord Roxboro's instructions but was unable to divine her uncle's intentions in this respect. As she stood there nonplussed, her beautiful brow corrugated with a tiny frown of indecision, she made a pretty figure. Her full, warm, delicately turned body encased in nothing but that form-fitting, clinging, silken chemise, which hugged tightly against her marvelous breasts so that even the pink nipples were outlined through the thin covering, and the ravishing skintight panties, which were now stretched tightly upon her dimpled flesh as though painted, and the sheer openwork stockings, she made a wonderful object of desire.

Determinedly, in order to be on the safe side, she walked gracefully, her plump naked buttocks swaying rhythmically from side to side as her loose breasts quivered voluptuously, to the door leading to the library. Rapping softly with a trembling hand, she heard her uncle answer.

“So soon?” inquired Lord Roxboro in a low voice, “Well, you are rapid, my sweet! Open and enter, I beg of you!”

“No, no, uncle!” she whispered, her trembling lips close to the casement in order to convey her voice. “I am not-I am not ready as yet! I just wanted to ask you, do you want me to wear a dress? I mean, did you wish me to wear a dress over the other things? The things you selected? Are they to be-be covered?” she finished lamely, feeling as if she were about to break down.

“Oh! A dress; oh, yes, yes!” he laughed through the door. “For a certainty, put a dress on, my dear Caroline! I entirely forgot to mention it. Any of the new dresses you prefer! And hurry, sweetheart; I am impatient to see you!”

“All right, uncle,” answered Caroline, her mind relieved at this boon. “I will be there in just a moment.” Placing her hand out, she selected the first dress, an elegant one indeed, cut very low in the shoulders. After carefully donning it and arranging her hair, she slipped on a pair of the new slippers and advanced to the library door. She tapped softly and waited with bated breath the command that was to order her into the presence of her sensual uncle.

“Advance, Caroline; I am almost in a frenzy of impatience!” said the lord in a low voice, and Caroline, laying a trembling hand upon the knob, slowly opened the door and entered her uncle's chamber. He had been reading a book as she entered, and at this fresh vision of loveliness, he threw it aside and sprang to his feet to greet his adorable niece, who blushed sweetly and bent her burning gaze to the carpet.

“Marvelous! Wonderful! Beautiful!” he ejaculated, his eyes fastened upon the girl's ravishing form as she slowly circled the room, pleased with his approval. “Why, my dear Caroline, you are positively gorgeous! What splendor! What regality! Your form is indeed a jewel that has only lacked for a proper setting! Now you are a gem of the most radiant beauty! How lucky a man am I to possess the companionship of so fair a flower! Come, sweetheart mine! Recline here on your adorer's lap!” And stretching out his arms, he embraced Caroline and drew her down upon his knees.

She allowed herself to be drawn without protest or comment. Passing his arms upward around her alabaster neck, he drew her face down to his and implanted a kiss of dewy sweetness that burned the sensitive girl like a tongue of hot flame upon her trembling lips and held her in a prolonged embrace.

One of his hands dropped to her protruding hillocks that graced the upper front of her form, and through the covering cloth he molded and squeezed their elastic contour. Deftly undoing the clasps that held her dress closed in front, he allowed it to part, and her breasts, warm and quivering, separated from his bold digits by only the intervening silk, felt more warmly his lascivious caresses.

The touch of his forefinger on her dormant nipples caused them to spring suddenly erect, and those feelings that had been engendered within her at the thought of the handsome Carl again took possession of her brain. Oh, these strange sensations of she knew not what! How they throbbed and thrilled her! The touch of a male hand upon the sacred portions of her person seemed to alight feelings that consumed her entire being, and she writhed about as if possessed.

After repeated kissings and fondlings, he drew one of her breasts out of her chemise and, bending his lips to it, sucked in the nipple and titillated its hard surface with his velvety tongue.

“Oh, uncle!” she murmured, her heart beating wildly. “You make me feel so queer!” and she leaned over and played with his hair and stroked and patted his head.

“Stand up before me, Caroline,” he ordered. “I want to see if you have done all that I told you.”

She arose and took a standing posture before him, like Venus rising from the bath, a pose that would have delighted the heart of Boccaccio. He gazed in rapt admiration at her and then passed one of his arms about her waist and drew her to him, carefully stroking her alabaster limbs with the other hand. After a few seconds of this play, he subtly moved his hand with alluring and caressing motions steadily upward; she felt his hand creeping up with that slow tantalizing motion as it glided over the velvety surface, up, up, up, above the rolled stocking top and in between the folds of her silken drawers, then between the hairy crotch until it lay against the fuzzy covering of her bower; she pressed her legs tighter together and bent over to delay that searching inquisitive finger that dallies so enticingly in the perfumed retreat.

“Come, come, Caroline,” said her uncle reproachfully. “Don't squeeze your legs together; play fair! I want you to stand up straight and open the gates of bliss wide!” And the beautiful damsel stood straight as Diana with her glorious legs spread wide apart as he eagerly fingered her moss-covered coosie, pushing an exploratory finger within the well-formed and pouting lips of her sensuous sheath, which quivered delightfully at his slightest touch, its sensitive state testifying to the masterly manner in which his excited finger was exploring her grotto of love.

Once his intruding finger pushed too roughly and abruptly; she gave a little wince at this and, holding him tight by the head as he sat there, wished that his explorations were completed. He eventually desisted and allowed her to don her clothes.

“Now, Caroline,” he said, “I want to see how your new drawers fit. Please stand away from me and lift up your dress. As high as you can conveniently do-there, that is just about right-see the light falling as if through a rose window of a cathedral, lighting up those glorious contours and outlines! Ah, my darling! Spread your limbs a little farther apart and give your old uncle a decent look!”

“Oh, uncle,” she begged. “I can't; I am too ashamed; won't you only feel and allow me to keep my dress down? Besides, holding my clothes up this way will cause them to be horribly wrinkled.”

“Come, come, darling; this is no time for nonsense! Besides, I am in no mood for trifling! Come, up with them, I must have a last glimpse of those ravishing secret places.”

She then moved in front of the gentleman and, grasping her dresses about her like a hen in a water pond, she drew them up over her face and was indeed delighted to find that the flimsy covering acted in the capacity of a perfect screen to hide her maidenly blushes and gasps of emotion.

He, sensuous man, reveled in the ravishing sight displayed to his inquisitive and penetrating gaze, never missing a point on her well-molded and gorgeous form. Ah, the matchless legs and well-rounded thighs and beautiful hips; a portion of her beautiful ivory-colored belly and the golden hair of her beautiful snatch were revealed to his ardent gaze; that tantalizing, golden spot with its pouting ruby lips.

After what seemed an age to the girl, she was permitted to drop her clothing. Then, commanding her to turn her back again, the performance was repeated. Her almost bare posterior was revealed to him. The beautiful ravinelike cleft between the well-rounded cheeks of her pink-and rosy-tinted arse thrilled him to the utmost and she felt his hand glide in and gently run up and down the ridge between her soft and throbbing objects, which he would squeeze and mold violently, stroking the velvety outer surfaces alternately.

“Hold up your dress, Caroline, and back up a little more,” he said, and she backed, reefing up her skirts higher.

“Now, now, bend over a bit!” he said. “Slowly, slowly now! Not too far forward! Ah, there, rest a bit.” And as she bent over, bringing her naked arse almost into his lap, she felt the hard, hot, quivering rod placed in the ravine of her luxuriant arse, the hot, wet, massive tip pressing against her diminutive bunghole, causing her to leap forward at the contact, only to be brought back with a violent jerk by the lord of the encircling arm.

“No, no! For heaven's sake, not there!!” she cried wildly. “That monstrous thing will kill me.” And she wriggled and squirmed.

“Oh, don't be silly, child; I am not going to put it into you there,” he said laughingly. “You can move away now.”

She lost no time in leaping away from the dangerous vicinity of her uncle's large and rampant prick; she turned and found him with the front of his pants unbuttoned and the gigantic prick fully unveiled. He took hold of it and pushed it out to its farthest limit.

“Come, Caroline; don't you realize what your dainty little hands are made for? Come and caress this little teaser.”

She grasped the thick prick in her hands and slid the skin back from its head, revealing the bright red hat, which was a curiosity to her. The feel of it seemed to affect her strongly; a quiver ran through her body and she grasped it more tightly and commenced rubbing it up and down frantically, which naturally seemed to affect her uncle, who soon pushed her hand away.

“What is the matter, Uncle John?” she asked, wondering at his thus brusquely pushing her hand away from the object, when her handling of it seemed to give him such a thrill.

“Too fast, too fast, Caroline, my child! You'll have me spilling all over the floor!”

“Oh, uncle, does that rubbing produce any of the fluid?”

“Why, yes, child, didn't you know that?”

“Oh, no, sir; I thought that you had to put it inside me to make it spit out the fluid.”

“Didn't you ever see a prick before, child?”

“Oh, no, uncle; never.”

“Well, it's a wonderful machine. It has been known to give much pleasure to women versed in its use!” And at this he laughed loud and long.

The girl was ashamed of her ignorance in this matter. “Oh, uncle, why has it got skin over its head?” she asked, wondering what the reason was for the pink fleshy covering. She had again taken it into her hand and was this time caressing it in the most gentle manner.

“Ah, evidently you know little of the construction of a man's prick, Miss Ignorance! I even suspect that you think there is a bone concealed inside.”

“Well, hasn't it?” she queried.

“Why, no, dearest,” laughed Lord Roxboro, again kissing and handling her magnificent breasts.

“Then why does it stay hard, like a bar of iron?”

“Why, from coming in contact with your little crack and the deep ravine in your rear. When I touch it to you, or raise your clothes, or kiss you or fondle you, the thing springs into action immediately and becomes like iron. Ah, I see that you must have a practical lesson in the use of this machine. Come, my precious dove; get down on your knees so you can observe if closely and I will explain to you its various uses and appendages; come, little pet, down on your knees.”

“Oh, uncle,” she murmured, but nevertheless she at once dropped to her knees before him as he sat there, his hand still encircling the object of her curiosity.

“Put your face up close and take a good look at it,” said her uncle. “Roll back the skin and look at its rampant head. Now glance beneath. See those gigantic balls? They hold the magic fluid that can start in your womb a new life. Do you see them, Caroline?”

“Oh, yes,” said Caroline, fingering and fondling the bag, “they are large, are they not? And oh, all the hair! Why, it actually goes all the way up to your belly!” she cried, as her hand reached up under his shirt and she explored the surface of his hairy abdomen.

“Yes, my sweet,” said her uncle. “Men, as a rule, have more hair around these parts than the ladies. Of course, there are exceptions, however; one woman that I know is almost covered with hair; it grows between her legs and high up on her chest. It is strangely long and luxuriant, and she braids and curls it and seems to take quite a deal of pride in it. This person comes to the house frequently and I hope to have the pleasure of introducing her to you.”

“What? All the way up on her body? How strange and incongruous!” said Caroline, pulling up her own skirts and examining her own lightly covered mound. “I never knew there were women like that. We had a lot of girls in our dormitory at school, and really, uncle, none of them had much more hair than myself, although of course most of it was darker.”

“Yes,” said her uncle, “there are many objects that you have not seen. That object that you hold in your hand is known to give great pleasure to kings and queens, yet seems to be an object of fear and repugnance to you. But in time, dearest, you may grow actually to love it. Why, some girls derive such pleasure from kissing and caressing it with their lips that they will do nothing else!”

“What-from kissing it? Why, uncle, you are joking; how can any girl enjoy kissing such a thing?”

“Well, I can state from actual personal experience that they do. Surely it can do no harm!”

“Oh, but I am sure that I would not want to,” she said, making a face at the idea. “It is much too nasty-looking.”

“Ah, but it isn't half bad-supposing you try it and see?”

“Oh, uncle,” she protested, “I couldn't do that, really. I am sure it would make me ill, the idea is perfectly revolting to me.”

“However, I want you to do it,” he replied firmly. “Play with it awhile and after you have done that for a time, give it a nice lingering kiss; it surely won't hurt you.”

“Oh, uncle!” she protested.

“Come, pretty puss; the sooner started, the sooner finished. You really must kiss it before you get up. Take your time and look it all over; see that it has nothing wrong with it; it is perfectly clean; then give it a nice long kiss.”

She did not particularly relish the idea of kissing this monster with its wet tip; the idea filled her with revulsion; nevertheless as she fondled it and molded it between her fingers, stroking its bare head and grasping the balls that hung so tantalizingly below, she eventually leaned down and gave it a fervent squeeze and, closing her eyes, pressed her ruby lips against its throbbing head, then sprang to her feet.

“No, no! Oh, no, little cheat!” her uncle cried. “You did not give it a kiss; I want you to give him a regular kiss, not just a peck.”

“Ah, but a peck is enough for a pecker!” laughed Caroline. He laughed but, catching her around the neck, slowly forced her head down toward the luscious staff.

“But, uncle, I kissed him, just as you told me to.”

“But that is not enough,” he said. “Look; lift it straight up in the air.” This she did, exposing his balls as they hung, hair-covered from the root. “Those are my jewels, child; have you inspected them thoroughly?”

“Yes, uncle,” she whispered, holding the throbbing prick aloft.

“Well, Caroline, in appreciation of that rare sight, give each one of them a kiss, a real good kiss this time.”

Caroline pressed her lips to each of the hairy nuts, the feeling of the hairy surface bringing a quivering sensation to her body.

“Now,” said her uncle, “lower the instrument.”

She lowered the tempting prick, and at his command uncapped the fiery head.

“The moist aperture you see there is the center; it is the channel that delivers the magic cream. I want you to stick out the tip of your tongue and salute that glorious hole, not once, but several times; come now, do so at once.” Caroline, with a little cry of dissension, nevertheless pressed her lips to the head of his prick and, advancing her tongue, allowed it to quiver a few times against the point; then, springing to her feet, she threw her arms about her uncle's neck and burst into violent sobs.

“Oh, uncle, uncle dear, what makes you command me to do such things? You surely cannot like me or you would not do so. Won't you let me go?”

“Foolishness, Caroline,” said her uncle. “I like you more than I ever did now; you are the sweetest girl in all the world. Come kiss your uncle.”

She pressed her burning lips to his and felt her bubbies again in his grasp; his hand crept under her skirt and titillated her cleft; she pressed close to him and returned his passionate kisses.

“Come, dearie, slip out of that dress!”

She feverishly undid her garment, which she allowed to slip to the floor. Clad only in her skintight undergarments, she stood exposing all of her most secret charms. He again drew her to him and kissed her repeatedly. She grasped his flaming organ and gently wagged its head to and fro.

“Come, Caroline, straddle that arm chair.”

“Why, uncle, don't be silly. I'll fall off.”

“Come, enough of this comedy; I'll hold you,” he said, and with his assistance he soon had her astride the chair, this position bringing her pussy stretched and opened to its widest extent, directly above his charger. He clasped her about the waist and gently lowered her upon it; she felt the head dilate, and it gently slipped in. She threw her arms about her uncle's neck in a frenzy of passion and settled back full upon it.

It slipped up its full length within her; her uncle allowed his hands to fall below and he grasped her about the buttocks and drew the cheeks of her arse wide apart. Shivering and shaking in the wildest abandon, and feeling as though her arse were splitting, she wriggled about with the abandon of a flea, as she sat speared upon that monstrous shaft, a prey to the most delightful and passionate sensations that mortal ever felt.

Her arms were tight around her uncle, her lips glued to his; she felt one of his fingers explore and slip into her amber hole; this stimulated her to renewed efforts, and with a heavy sigh she settled down on his prick, quivering and shaking with passionate convulsions.

It is a well-known fact that in both man and woman the rectal orifice is a seat of intense sensation during such passionate moments. The French, masters in the gentle art of love, favor this method as inducing the ejaculation at the very height of excitement. It is as successful in the male as in the female and induces complete ejaculation.

Caroline, feeling the entrance of her uncle's probing finger, wriggled and twisted in intense excitement and soon was at the height of passion and sending down a flood of juice. He in turn, deluged her with the balmy essence of his vigorous tool, knocking and banging at her tender womb in his frenzy. Her deft finger had also found his orifice and with a mixture of moans, groans, and sighs, they collapsed in the climax of love.

The two lovers sank back in the chair, his cock still buried deep within her, while waiting for Nature to render the moment auspicious with which to withdraw.

“Ah, such pleasure.” She kissed and caressed his lips; the pleasure was divine. Finally he gently pushed her from him; the contents of her superb crevice bedewing him generously, he led her to an adjacent couch. The juice still trickled from her cleft and flowed down on her drawers.

“My child, you are improving; you are beginning to really relish the bout! Are you tired, Caroline, my dear?”

“No, uncle,” she replied, kissing him tenderly. “I felt as though I would die. Oh! But it was so good!”

“I see that you are bleeding a little.”

She blushed in confusion and sought to draw her panties over what she thought must now be a gaping hole. His lordship laughed lightly at this movement and assisted her from the room; she went immediately to her room and threw herself upon the bed, from which she did not arise until late in the evening.

She was surprised to find that she was now free of any annoying soreness, so she bathed, dressed, and descended to the drawing room, where she found Roxboro engaged in a conversation with Freda.

Dinner was evidently over with and the lord, turning to greet her, said, “Well, Miss Sleepyhead, we delayed dinner for you, but you did not appear. Freda looked in on you in your room and informed me that you were sound asleep, so we went on with the meal without you. If you are hungry, doubtless Marie can find something for you in the kitchen. I will ring for her.”

“Oh, never mind, uncle. I am not hungry at all, do not bother Marie. I will make up for it at breakfast.”

“All right, Caroline,” said Roxboro, seating himself. “Your sister Freda and I were talking of her life in the convent; she is a charming conversationalist and has interested me greatly.”

Caroline seated herself and noticed that her sister was enviously appraising the new gown she had on, also the new silk stockings and slippers. Affecting not to notice the scrutiny, she seated herself beside her uncle and joined in the conversation.

Freda, with a comical air, recounted some of the convent experiences and Lord Roxboro laughed heartily. Caroline watched her uncle's eyes and saw them light up at the sight of Freda's well-shaped legs as she swung them to and fro under her dress, giving her uncle an almost clear view up to her knees; she watched her sensual uncle's gaze riveted upon the two delicious little globes upon her bosom. At the same time, an inkling came to her that Freda was also aware of this scrutiny, for she cast a mischievous glance at Caroline and, twisting one leg up under her as she sat, she displayed a more open view of her delicate legs for Lord Roxboro's glittering gaze.

Caroline cast a reproachful glance at Freda, only to have her give her a naughty wink, and then solemnly regain her maidenly composure.

The uncle, tearing his gaze away from this all-too-interesting sight, engaged in small talk and turned to Caroline. Freda, finding that she was not now the center of attention, sulked for a moment, then, rising to her feet, excused herself and left the room. Caroline watched her go with conflicting emotions and as the door closed turned to Roxboro.

“Uncle,” she said, looking into his eyes as if to search the ideas that were passing in his brain, “I do not like the way that Freda is acting in front of you.”

“Why, Caroline dear,” said he, arising and walking in back of her and passing his arm around her neck and turning her face upward to implant a kiss upon the pouting lips. “My dear, I really believe that you are trying to be jealous of the little puss! My stars, are you that silly?”

“Why, the very idea!” she laughed. “I am certainly not jealous of her, yet I do not approve of the abandoned manner in which she endeavors to attract your attention in such an indelicate fashion, the little minx; she knows quite well what she is doing and it is only to excite you.”

The conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Freda; she again seated herself and commenced twisting her shapely legs about, legs that would have tempted a saint to implant a kiss upon their plump and perfect contours.

She looked archly at Caroline and coyly at her lascivious uncle, occasionally directing a glance at the well-filled front section of his pants, then glanced at Caroline and said, “That is a pretty dress you have on, sister; you didn't have it when we came here. Where did you get it?”

“No,” said Caroline, a twinge of malice pervading her voice. “Uncle bought it for me today, as a recompense for some little service I was fortunate enough to be able to do for him.”

“Oh, uncle, uncle!” cried Freda, turning to the old roue, and laying one of her dainty hands upon his knee. “Have you anything that I am able to perform? I would love to earn some pretty dresses like dear sister Carrie.”

“Well, perhaps, my dear,” said Lord Roxboro, patting her bare arm and pinching her rosy cheeks.

Caroline said nothing at this burst of impudence or the exchange of affections, but her eyes blazed. She rose as though to leave, but Roxboro called her back. “Why, Caroline, certainly you are not going to leave us this early?”

“I have a headache; it pains me severely; I would like to retire, if I may.”

“Oh, come, sit down,” and he waved her into a chair. She seated herself demurely and the noble lord took out one of his favorite cigars, which he lighted, exhaling a most delightful aroma of entrancing intensity.

“Girls,” he finally said, as he exhaled in that delightful fashion known only to the experienced. “Girls, I wish that you would try to get along together nicely.” Seeing that both were about to protest, he held his diamond-bedecked fingers up with a majestic gesture. “Tut, tut; no interruptions, please. I know what you are both going to say, but, girls, I can see for myself that all is not as it should be. Freda is angry because Caroline has a new dress, and Caroline is angry because-well-because-” Here he hesitated and, casting a keen glance at Caroline, finished, “-because she is angry!” He laughed uproariously at his own wit. “Now, this is absurd, girls, and decidedly foolish. I expect guests here tomorrow evening, and I am about to give a party to society in your honor. I expect both you girls to be at your best; a number of my best friends will be here. Now, away to bed, and be sure to get plenty of sleep and look your very best. Come, Caroline, and you too, Freda. Kiss your uncle good night and retire to your cozy nests.”

He then embraced Caroline and passed his arm about the soft clinging form of Freda. As she turned her soft rosebud lips to greet his, he pressed her close, crashing the warm and tender bubbies against his manly bosom; his leg pressed through her dress as he kissed her, not once but several times, and in a manner decidedly not paternal.

Finding that his prick was decidedly arising at this warm contact, he speedily arose from this unchaste embrace and directed the girls to speed to their rooms. They waved him good night from the stairs, and Freda, entering Carolina's room asked permission to inspect the latest additions to her wardrobe.

Caroline displayed to her astonished and envious gaze a batch of Madam Foullard's latest Parisian creations, of the most charming and sheerest textures, some of which were charmingly decorated in dazzling sequins and heavily embroidered in massive medallions, harmonized with the most alluring and tempting combinations of colors; rarely had Freda seen such a delectable assortment of costly and dazzling dresses, combinations, and lingerie. She went into raptures over each exquisite garment.

Caroline showed her everything except the most intimate personal garments, sensing that Freda might suspect the intimacy that had grown up between her uncle and herself.

“So uncle bought you all these beautiful dresses?” queried Freda as she surveyed the costly dresses hanging in gorgeous order in the massive wardrobe. “I wish he would buy me some; how is it that he bought all these lovely things for you the first day you are here; why didn't he buy some for me too?”

“Probably uncle considers that you are too young for all this sort of finery, at present. He may really think of you as too much of a child to have dressed like this. Why don't you ask him?”

“I am not a child,” cried Freda, vexed at Caroline's remark. “I am as grown-up as you are, and quite as much of a woman. I am over fourteen. You are only two years older than I, Caroline.”

“Ah, my little dear, but a few years makes quite a difference,” and Caroline smiled strangely.

“Oh,” cried Freda, “I know what you mean; I suppose you think I don't understand that remark. When you say I am still a child, it is nonsense. I am grown up. I have full breasts now-not as big as yours-but my legs are larger than yours and more shapely; look at my breasts!” And here she seized her tiny bubbies and squeezed them.

“Why, Freda,” gasped Caroline, as though shocked. “Oh, how can you talk that way. Really, you must not indulge in such expressions. I am horrified!”

“Oh, don't be foolish,” said Freda, letting her hands fall to her sides. “I know a lot of things that even you don't know. I know all about the things that change us and also what happens to a girl when she marries.”

“Why, Freda!” said Caroline, amazed at this display of precocity. “You little imp, where did you get all this nonsense; who has been filling your mind with such ideas?”

“Foolish ideas, nothing,” said Freda, adopting an air of childish superiority. “I learned a lot of things at school; I know where babies come from and how you get them. The doctor doesn't bring them at all; all that talk about bringing them in his satchel is just silly.”

“Why, Freda, you astonish me!” gasped Caroline, wondering just how much this little monkey really did know about the subjects she so glibly discussed.

At this moment a tap was heard on the door.

“Girls, better go to bed and get some rest; don't sit up talking all night,” came their uncle's voice.

“Yes, uncle,” replied Caroline. “Now, Freda, you had better scoot back to your own room; we will go into this another time. Good night, dear.” She kissed her younger sister and with a laugh pushed her toward the door.

In a few minutes, the house was completely dark and quiet, the occupants sunk in sleep.

And so we will leave them at the end of this first volume.