Augustus and Lady Maude

by AnonYMous

  And yet, I assure you, I have never enjoyed myself half so much in my life as I do now with Miss Jones and Marit Aas. By your outrage at the lewd little romps of Julie and Sian it is evident that you have much to learn about the amusements in which the female sex may indulge when there is no man present. I am as devoted to mankind as anyone could be, and yet I confess to a certain satisfaction which may be had in dealing with womankind. In short, I have long wanted to see young Marit's panties as her only covering, solely for the pleasure of stripping them from her. Were I a fool, which I trust is not the case, I had by now attempted a romantic seduction of our fifteen-year-old Scandinavian nymph. And what would have been the result? Outrage and scandal! The end of a pleasant summer by this warm Italian lake. What then was I to do? It was evident that I must become a moralist of the kind only found among the higher orders of English female society. Marit herself gave enough pretext for that.

  She is not quite an immoraliste and yet her conduct is a little questionable. In her singlet, saucy little cap, and tight denim pants on her slender thighs and tightly rounded rear cheeks, she parades each day in the town. With her soft young face and the waves of her brown tresses lapping silkily over her collar, she is to be seen sitting at cafe tables with other girls and boys, smoking a cigarette with the studied manners of a little coquette. It is also evident that Marit plays with herself between the legs, furtively enough in the privacy of her own bed. Put all these things together and does she not call for the strictest moral supervision? I summoned her to my presence, with all Mr. Bowler's authority to support me. Marit will be a real beauty at seventeen or eighteen with her firmly rounded chin, wide and charming smile, her short pert nose and light blue eyes. How she blushed now when I spoke to her of her delinquencies, ending with the worst. “Stand up, Marit, and turn about so that I may see you. Such pretty legs for a girl of your age, in those tight denim pants! I'm sure your bridegroom will find them to be graceful and elegant when he undresses you on your honeymoon night! Narrow hips and tight young bottom-cheeks, Marit! Not quite a proper grown woman yet, perhaps! All the same, your backside begins to show a woman's shape!

  Even in your wedding-dress, I'm sure those rear cheeks will still be taut and agile!” The velvety smoothness of Marit's lightly suntanned face coloured up a little at these compliments but she blushed far more deeply at my next words. “I think you like to make love to yourself, don't you, Marit? When did you last do it?”

  Imagine the blushings, the stutterings of protest now! “Don't pretend to misunderstand, Marit. When did you last play with yourself?” Believe me, Gussie, I was the master inquisitor of our Nordic nymph. There was such shame-faced hesitation, a few gulps and whimpers. But I would tolerate no prevarication. To my delight Marit confessed to doing it twice the day before, once in the bathroom during the afternoon and then in bed at night! I shook my head, as if my heart were heavy with sorrow at the news. “I am more distressed, more disappointed in you, than I can say, Marit! So, if I did my duty as I should, it would be to send you home at once to your unhappy parents with a full explanation of your conduct. A girl so predisposed to these things is a moral danger to herself and to those with whom she associates. You know, I imagine, to what I refer.”

  There is something so exquisite, Gussie, about true repentance.

  Marit's knees pressed the carpet before my chair as she begged for anything-anything!-rather than the disgrace which now threatened her.

  I was not easily moved, you may be sure. We had tears and weepings from her before I was softened a little. A fool would have gone too far. Not I. With great seriousness I explained that her moral welfare was my sole consideration. Against my better judgment, she might stay at the Villa Lola. There was, however, to be a condition.

  Anything, Marit assured me. Anything! Very well, I explained. In order to maintain moral vigilance over this frail adolescent conscience, Marit was to be inspected twice a day for evidence of immoral conduct. In order to spare her blushes it would be done anonymously. There was a convenient hatchway between two rooms in the cellar. She would bend through it and the hatch would be lowered until it was locked in place, just touching the small of her back.

  Marit would not be able to straighten up or free herself until the hatch was unlocked. We should be able to strip off her denim skirt or pants, pull Marit's knickers right down and fiddle with her all morning or all night if we wished to. Best of all, this was to be done in the name of the strictest moral supervision. A duenna of less imagination than I, would have fallen upon the girl at the first opportunity. I was struck by a more poetic notion. Miss Jones should carry out the examinations of Marit each morning and evening. I had no doubt that a randy and depraved young bitch of Miss Jones's sort would have an effect upon Marit. I should soon have two girls in a lewd and lascivious state rather than one. So it was that yesterday morning, Marit went slowly down the steps to the lower rooms. She hesitated long before the hatchway but then bent forward through it, the washed blue denim tight on her slender thighs and the tight little rounds of her bottom-cheeks. The hatch was lowered into place and locked. You may be sure I spied from a comer where I could see both sides, the silken waves of Marit's collar-length hair falling about her face in the most charming disorder. Miss Jones appeared cautiously, walking with the usual tight little swagger of her hips, the warm gold of her face with its almond eyes and sharp nose appearing like a Turkomean mask. She studied the slim little figure presented to her from the waist down and then very slowly undid Marit's denim. Even this caused the victim to squirm a little with apprehension. The young mistress pulled the drawers down until they were a puddle of denim round the girl's ankles. Marit's thin graceful thighs looked almost frail and yet one had not the least regret at what she was about to undergo. Marit's panties were no more than a pair of tight briefs in white cotton. For the moment she was made to wear them. Miss Jones began her inspection. Her slim nimble fingers entered between the rear of Marit's bare thighs and closed upon the little pouch of secret flesh moulded by the tight cotton gusset of her panties. How the younger nymph flinched and squirmed at the delicious forbidden touch of Miss Jones's fingers. But Miss Jones makes love to herself regularly and so has the skill of a devil when she takes other girls in hand. A demure young debutante of sixteen like Tracey was heard to scream with the sharpness of the pleasure when the pale ovals of her bottom cheeks and her pussy flesh came under the handling of our randy little temple dancer! Marit gasped and whimpered, tossed and twisted her head, squirmed her slim bare thighs as if trying to press the excitement back into her womb.

  The thick and pearly dew of her passion began to gather and, in no time at all, Marit's knickers clung between her legs. Miss Jones, randy little minx that she is, was aware that the feel of the cotton pants in this state would make Marit even more exquisitely aware of her own arousal. Only when the fifteen-year-old pupil had been fully roused did Miss Jones pull the panties right down. How narrow were the trim young hips she now revealed, while Marit's slim bottom-cheeks seemed hardly on the threshold of womanhood. Now the agile fingers of the older girl moved in the most remorseless rhythm, rubbing and squeezing, stroking and tickling. You may imagine how Marit squirmed and gasped, for all the world as if in true distress, whose sounds are often hard to distinguish from the cries of pleasure.

  She knew not whose fingers were working the magic spell upon her, which added to the charm of the situation. Yet, as one watched, it was evident after ten more minutes that the pattern of her movements changed. She ceased to tighten herself or resist. Opening her slim young thighs wider, she accepted Miss Jones's caresses, even showing how she yearned for them. Marit's lips parted, she breathed deeply, and her eyes closed gently and flutteringly in a dream of love.

  Presently Miss Jones knelt behind her and applied her open mouth between Marit's slender thighs, whose inner surfaces shone wet with the youngster's slippery dew. There are as many secret lusts as there are human beings. Miss Jones has a perverse relish i
n tasting other girls during their excitement. She brought Marit off with sly dartings of her tongue and constant lipping and kissing of the roused and moistened folds of puss-flesh. Marit cried out softly, her legs trembling visibly and her tight young arse-cheeks squirming.

  Holding her firmly after the climax, Miss Jones parted Marit's trim little buttocks and began to caress or tickle her between them.

  My own future plans for Miss Aas involve a degree of unusual pleasures and I was pleased to see that Miss Jones had begun to sensitise her in the forbidden valley already! Our Scandinavian nymph squirmed and whined in protest for the next half hour. But the little beauty had her buttocks tickled and her bottom-crack caressed pitilessly. In a few weeks more we shall have awakened all her erotic responses in that sensitive area. By the time that Miss Jones finished with her, it was an hour before lunch. The hatch was unlocked and raised. Marit rather forlornly pulled up her knickers and denim. Presently she retired with eyes downcast. Do not lament for her, my dear. I was able to observe her through the spy-hole between our rooms. Marit dropped her pants again, lay down on her bed, and played with herself between her legs until it was necessary to knock on the door and remind her that lunch was ready. She will be a changed girl by the time she leaves here. And yet, Gussie, who will dare to deny that I have acted in the most moral fashion? Do you now begin to understand? Your own adoring Maude Anonymous Augustus and Lady Maude XII. Augustus to Lady Maude Wight, 28 June My dear Maude, In answer to your question-I do not understand and am not sure that I wish to. The designs you have upon that unfortunate pupil Marit are so different from my own inclination towards Julie that I see no point of comparison between our feelings. I have decided that I will approach my idol-in the shop if necessary-and make all plain to her. I was wrong to suppose that she would at once love me for myself. Yet I am rich and perhaps she does not realise that. If I were able to arrange a marriage on that basis-if she were even to marry me for money-my devotion would be such that I feel sure love would grow between us. I shall wait a further week. If I am unable to attain my object by any other means, I will then put the case to her in these terms. Surely, if I offer such treasure, she will at least consent to hear me. I do not ask for the approval of my family. What can they or you know of my feelings in such a case? Write to me, my dearest, and tell me that we shall love each other as always. However, do not attempt to dissuade me. Your ever laving Augustus Anonymous Augustus and Lady Maude XIII. Lady Maude to Mr. Bowler Villa Lola, 1 July My dear Friend, I enclose the latest letter from Lord A., hoping it may reach you before your departure from Venice. He is mad! Stark mad! Can anyone doubt that this latest infatuation has brought brain fever upon him? Marry him? Julie? A little whore who sits impudently on her little bottom, atop a counter-stool in a bookshop? Of course she will.

  For his money. She will rob him and leave him. In the name of friendship, I beg you to take the most ruthless measures to put an end to this tragi-comedy. At once and with no holding back! Otherwise I foresee the worst. He will strangle the girl Sian-about which I do not care. He will then marry the little whore Julie. I care about that more than I can express. Act quickly and with resolve, dear friend. You shall name your reward. M.

  II. OMBRE

  XIV. Augustus to Lady Maude

  Chez Dr. Raspail, 8 July

  My dearest Maude, I am the most tormented creature the world has ever known.

  For the past two days I have lain under the ministrations of Dr.

  Raspail and only now feel my nerves in a sufficient state of recovery to write these lines. Julie is gone. Sian is gone. I do not mean that they are dead. They have been spirited away before my very eyes.

  I do not know what I shall do or how I shall survive in these next few days. I went to the usual rooms which I have rented in the house across the street, in order that I might observe what passed between the two girls. It was just at sunset and the lights soon came on in their uncurtained windows which showed me everything that passed.

  Julie had returned home to find Sian waiting and they had retired together to the bedroom. Neither of them had yet undressed but stood looking at one another across the bed in their singlets and tight denim-pants. Yet they had not had time to do more than caress one another with their eyes when there came a knock at the street door. It was of a kind which permits no prevarication. Even before the girls could answer it the door was opened, for all the world as if one of the four intruders had a key to it. There were four of them, Maude, all well-built and dangerous-looking brutes, though they wore masks across their eyes as if it were carnival in Venice. I knew at once that some villainy was intended towards the one girl. Of course, I cared nothing about what might be done to Sian and, indeed, would have welcomed seeing her ravished first and then given the coup de grace. Yet I could not be indifferent to the peril in which Julie now stood. I went to the door of my room, intending to go down the stairs into the street and raise the alarm. To my astonishment, however, the door had been locked or otherwise secured by some person on the outside. It seemed that I was a prisoner, helpless to do more than watch the events which unfolded in the room opposite. I went to the window, of course, threw it open and shouted, “Help! Help! Ho, there! Murder!” and similar imprecations. The street remained dead. It seemed that all the other buildings were now empty, as if someone had arranged that it should be so. You might have sworn that the inhabitants, all of them Mr. Bowler's tenants I believe, had been well rewarded to spend the night drinking at his expense in a nearby tavern. One of the men chose Julie, threw her on the bed, tightened a strap round her wrists and fastened them to the metal rail. Perhaps it was only Sian whom they wished to deal with. At least, for the moment, they left Julie alone, squirming and mewling on the bed, a gag of some sort thrust in her mouth to subdue her shrillness. I would be a hypocrite, Maude, if I did not confess privately that I enjoyed seeing Sian get her desserts. The men were going to abduct her, of that there was little doubt. Sian was destined for sale to some harem-owner or connoisseur. It was not, of course, necessary for the men to do to her the things which they now inflicted. All the same, it would have been hard for them to resist the temptation. Anyone who has passed Mr. Bowler's premises and chanced to see this redheaded dollymop would have envied the men the fun they had with her. You have only to look at Sian, the short and straying plumes of her red hair over her forehead and on her collar, the sensual blue eyes, the slope of her cheekbones, the weak chin and the painted little mouth. If that does not reveal her character sufficiently, observe her dressed in white blouse and the tight fawn cotton of working-pants. She is not particularly tall and, though she must be twenty years old, her thighs are slim and the cheeks of her bottom trim and agile. When she is at her work, watch her bend to some task or other. How lewdly she does it, her legs astride a little, her rude little bottom rounded right out with its cheeks parted under the tight seat of her denim, for all the world as if she wished to display herself to the passing world like the most shameless and depraved young whore. Without more ado, three of the masked bravoes marched Sian into the other room where the man who was their leader sat in judgment on her. “Stand in front of me, Sian. Let me look at you. Are you truly such a warm-blooded young slut that no girl is safe in the same bed as you? In that case you must be taken somewhere where you can exercise your talents under supervision. Ah, I think you guess that you have had your last experience of being at liberty. Do you know what a price a girl of your trim figure and fair skin will fetch at auction-in the Arabian trade, where harem girls are bought and sold-” While he was talking to her, Sian's blue eyes with their darkened lashes growing wider in disbelief, one of the other men brought in a heavy step-ladder. “I do believe,” said the leader of the group, “you have one of the prettiest faces I have seen on a working-girl, Sian. I like the saucy way you keep your red hair short and curling over your collar. Turn round, Sian, and let me look at you from behind. A pair of round and firm young bottom-cheeks, Sian!

  You're going
to be whipped presently-those are the orders given us. It will help you to know that we have no power to spare you that punishment, even if we wished to. Go to the step-ladder and bend over it with your arms stretching down on the far side. The men will make you do it anyway, if you prefer to be forced.” The windows on both sides of the narrow lane were wide open in the warm midsummer night, so that I listened to him as if he spoke in the very room where I languished then. Two of the other men seized Sian and hauled the young redhead across to the heavy step-ladder. It was low enough for them to bend her forward tightly over its structure, so that the little platform at the top supported her young belly and her arms were drawn at full stretch down the far side. They pinioned her wrists to these supports and left her in this position. Sian was bending over the ladder much as one sees her when she stoops to some workaday chore. The short mop of her reddish hair fell in a disorder of lightly waved tresses. The beige denim of her working-jeans was tight on her slim thighs, hips and buttocks. How very trim and how very tightly rounded were the nubile cheeks of Sian's bottom! They undid the denim and pulled off her working-pants, while she mewed and squirmed vainly against the wooden steps of the ladder which held her. Sian's knickers were no more than the snug cotton briefs which one sees through the tight jeans-seat whenever Sian bends over to her shop-work. Being prudent though, they ran Sian's briefs under the tap, made a wad of them and packed her mouth with the dampened cotton to quell her shrillness. I could neither defend nor excuse the amusement they now had with her. And yet, Maude, words cannot describe the satisfaction I felt at seeing what they now did to her. She had designed an evening of pleasure with Julie at my expense-and now these fine fellows were going to make her pay the price! The first man stood behind Sian as she bent over the step-ladder, her wrists tied to prevent her straightening up, while the structure itself ensured that she could not twist or squirm out of range. He manualised her between the legs until, I swear, one could hear her slipperiness. You need have no pity for Sian. Even in her present predicament she lubricated as soon as a man's fingers stroked her! This hulking fellow unbuttoned himself with a contented sigh and eased a prodigious member between her slim legs from the rear. Sian needed no encouragement, despite the promise of the discipline which was later to be inflicted on her. To see the way she strained back with her hips, spread her thighs and rode up and down the shaft, you would have thought that the masked ruffian was Apollo and Casanova all in one. I promise you, Maude, that had you been able to see the way Sian bowed her mop of red hair, the manner in which she seemed almost to “do the splits” to accommodate her lover more deeply, you would see her for what she is.