Augustus and Lady Maude

by AnonYMous

  He spared her nothing, nor did she ask him to. He took a jar of vaseline and spread it between the tightly rounded cheeks of Sian's bottom, as if it were the most natural caress in the world. I have no doubt that his employer had warned him of the dangers if Sian appeared on the slave-block with her white belly swollen up! For that reason, he adjusted the head of his ram to the tight dark bud between her rear cheeks and spent his passion deep in Sian's backside. I do assure you, my dear cousin, that I cared nothing for what harm or discomfort she might suffer from this. Indeed, my only fear was that Sian might escape harm and discomfort. When I thought of her lewdness with Julie, how she had been the seducer of the young nymph into the paths of Lesbos, I thought nothing too severe for her. During half an hour the wooden step-ladder creaked rhythmically under the thrusts of the ravisher, while Sian wriggled and writhed, moaned and shuddered, so that one scarcely knew whether she suffered torture or ecstasy!

  At last the heavily built fellow who pressed upon her gave her a smack on the bare flank of her hip to prepare her for his spending.

  Raking her thighs with his nails, he butted and jigged, pumping his copious flood into Sian's trim-cheeked young bottom. Do you suppose, Maude, that the young whore really believed he would spare her the whip because he had just enjoyed himself so much with her? It certainly seemed that Sian was under some such delusion. She still bent naked over the step-ladder, for the straps obliged her to. But now she turned her collar length of red tresses and looked back at the man with a doe-eyed expression of soft admiration at what he had done to her. The tendrils of the red hair brushed her brow, the blue eyes with their darkened lashes seemed wider still with desire, and the painted young mouth was parted lightly over the wad which filled it.

  As if to excite him a little more, Sian moaned and whimpered, squirming against the wooden steps of the ladder and performing a lewdly enticing dance with her pert little bottom. I was glad-so very glad-to see that he was not deceived by this. Though he grinned at her, his amusement was of the vindictive kind. In his hand he held a length of whip-cord. It formed a loop as he held the two ends in his fist and so it dangled about two feet in length from his hand.

  Sian was mewing urgently through her gag, no doubt reproaching her lover for so soon forgetting the intimate conjunction of her thighs with his manhood, her backside and his tool, which they had just enjoyed. The fellow paused, not out of reluctance but in order to tie several knots in the whip-cord so that she might feel the lashing with exceptional force where they hit her. It was the leader of the men, who had so far sat in his chair and watched Sian's adventure, who spoke to her next. “Bend right over the ladder, Sian! Tighter still! Your lover wants to whip you now. The tighter you bend and the better you behave, the sooner the thrashing will be over. I'm sure you're frightened, Sian. You're going to be hurt and, with a girl of your sort, the mere threat of that makes you squirm with fear. Very well, if you want a hard time, Sian, we are the men to give it you.”

  Without further ado, he got up and went across to the step-ladder. He stood wide astride, forced Sian's head down between his legs and clamped his thighs on her neck. Then, as she bent so tightly over the ladder, he gripped her bare waist with his hands to hold her still for the flogger. The man with the whip-cord ran it under the tap so that it would hit harder by being wet. He teased the frantic young redhead by dangling the wet cord against her firm white buttocks-and even between them-making her heart swell with terror at the cold wet lash. When Sian tried to compress her bum-cheeks together, the other men who held her down were easily able to draw them apart. “You have such a pretty young bottom, Sian!” he said to her quietly. “No wonder the men who passed Mr. Bowler's window like to see you bending over to your work!” The man who had made love to her was less amiable now, hard and pitiless in his cruel desire.

  The young bitch needs the whip!” he said savagely. “She shall learn obedience more easily with the cheeks of her arse well-skinned!”

  He swung the whip-cord high and brought it down hard across the trim and tightly, rounded cheeks of Sian's bottom. Though they had gagged her, one knew that the strenuous sound trapped in her throat had the force of a scream. It would not, I suppose, be prudent to discuss my reactions to this scene with Dr. Raspail. And yet, Maude, I now began to learn a little about myself. I had thought beforehand that when the whipping began, I should be quite unmanned. I would be appalled at the cruelty, even to Sian, and would long for it to stop.

  Perhaps it is a measure of the vindictiveness which I feel towards her that I experienced no such doubts! How urgently Sian tried to writhe her neat young hips and squirm her thighs! Fortunately the man who was holding her kept her hips straight so that Sian's backside faced her chastiser properly. The whip-cord smacked hard across her trim bare buttocks again, and then again. “You get a hundred strokes, Sian!” said the man who held her. “A loop of whipcord is only a little girl's punishment, so you must have plenty of it.” To judge from the shriek which Sian tried to emit at this promise, she did not consider it a little girl's punishment at all! With a sound of whip!… whip!… whip!… the man who thrashed her gave Sian twelve stinging cuts in quick succession round the tops of her thighs. Her knees bent under her and if she had not been supported by the ladder over which she lay, the young redhead would have collapsed on to the floor. “Give the young tart's backside a taste of the whip,” said the man who held her. “We must see Sian with one or two pretty trickles of red running down to the backs of her knees!” If the art of discipline is to have a girl like Sian trembling and mewing even before the whipping has properly begun, these two men were masters of the art. Though Sian twisted the mop of her red hair wildly, she was almost swooning with terror. The man whose sperm was still in her backside as evidence of his enjoyment of her now gave her the hundred strokes with the loop of whipcord. The one who held her rightly over the ladder spoke quietly to her, while Sian's screams were reduced to an urgent mewing by the wad in her mouth. “Such a fuss, Sian! Anyone might think it was the first time a girl of your kind had been whipped for her naughtiness!… You'll have your bare bottom thrashed often in the place you're going to, Sian… Sometimes as a punishment but quite often just for the enjoyment of the man who does it to you!… You must learn to give him a good time while he does it to you! Turn your face and look round at him while he whips you!… Lie over the sofa with your thighs open a little and the cheeks of your bottom parted to show him what he likes to see! You're a randy little bitch at most times, Sian. Anyone who passes the saddler's window can see that! You must learn to act like one under the lash!” The wet cord cracked like a ringmaster's whip across the tensing and twisting cheeks of Sian's bottom. She was now screaming into her wad with little respite, except when the man who held her was obliged to revive her with a smelling bottle to her nostrils. The young redhead's buttocks were a mass of loops and curlicues of the whip printed in raised and angry red. The man who held her pressed Sian's bottom-cheeks apart and encouraged his comrade. “Skin the little tart between her bum-cheeks! She needs a little whip to soften her insolence!” The other fellow needed no further encouragement to whip Sian intimately. You may be sure they taught this randy little shopgirl a lesson she was not likely to forget in a hurry. It was only during the most intense moments of the discipline that I realised the profoundly exciting effect this act of justice had upon me, Maude. It was such as is only proper in a physiological romance, not in a letter written by a gentleman to a young lady of rank. Yet it made any remorse for what was happening to Sian quite hypocritical and, indeed, absurd. They whipped and whipped her, until at last she lay limp and drooping over the step-ladder. Several red trickles ran down Sian's bottom-cheeks and the backs of her thighs. Though they unfastened her, it was only to gag her securely and strap her wrists behind her back as she stood at the centre of the room. One of the others brought in a large and stoutly made sack whose texture permitted air to penetrate. Sian's ankles were now pinioned as well. They lifted her, doubled
her up, and deposited Sian arse-upwards in the sack. Then they tied its neck with stout cord and left her to mew and wriggle in vain. Next they brought Julie in from the other room. She still wore her white blouse and tight jeans-denim. Only then, Maude, was I fully aware of my ambivalent state of mind. I longed to possess Julie and yet I now saw the impossibility. A secret voice in my mind assured me that ever since I had seen her naked with Sian, I must have known that it was impossible. I guessed that Julie would be trussed up in a sack, as Sian already was. There would be a short journey to a private jetty, Julie gagged and her wrists strapped behind her to prevent any scandal. Two weeks in the locked cabin of a private yacht would bring her to an auction block, under the eyes of those who are connoisseurs of slave-girl beauty. When Julie and Sian were sold, the gates of their new master's Arabian palace would close upon them and would never open again. It almost seems to me, Maude, that I accepted the hopelessness of the case in order to enjoy what was done to Julie now. Can such things be? Perhaps it was a safety-valve within the mind's system which prevented me going stark mad with grief. I now began to see how greatly the men must be enjoying themselves with Julie and began to understand the matter from their point of view. The pert little blonde had put her hair up in its coquettish top-knot, just like a little girl going to a dancing class. Yet her rather sham young nose, the high but narrow arching of her brows and her darkened lashes made her such a sullen little miss! They made Julie bend forward, right over the step-ladder, her arms at full stretch down the far side and her wrists strapped to the supports. Another strap bound her ankles together to one of the wooden steps. On reflection I cannot truly blame the men for some of the things they did to her when I consider what a sight she presented. Julie wears her working-jeans tight and smooth as a skin, except where they form little sheaves of creases behind her knees and across the rear of her thighs. Without a blush she will present this tight-seated rear view to the public gaze when she stands with her back to the shop window. Under the smooth denim-seat she presents to the world an outline of what she wears underneath, next to her skin. The world sees that Julie's scandalous little panties are worse than no panties at all! They are worn like this to provoke rather than to conceal! You may be sure such garments tell one a good deal about her lascivious young nature and her wish to flaunt herself. So, my dear Maude, you will see that Julie herself was largely to blame for the effect which her appearance had on her captors as they made her bend forward tightly over the step-ladder.

  “You dirty little bitch, Julie!” said one of them, smiling at the tight-cheeked seat of her jeans-denim and then turning to his companions, “Look at the tart's little backside! I think she's asking for it now, aren't you, Ju'?” Whether or not she was, Julie got it anyway! They undid her at the waist and removed both her working-denim and little briefs. There was some amusement about the skimpy panties that Julie wore and a suggestion was made that old Mr.

  Justice Snook might like to add them to that extensive collection of knickers in his desk, all taken from girls chastised by the venerable gentleman. My own attention was now given to Julie herself, for she was naked from the waist down. With the flat belly and backward jut of the hips more proper in a girl of thirteen, Julie has pale thighs which seem scarcely thicker than a man's upper arm. There is a provoking little fatness or softness to her rear cheeks, which are still those of a much younger girl. “A sound thrashing with a reformatory cane is what you need, Ju',” said the leader of the men.

  “Anyone who sees you walking through the streets or bending to your work must think that. Before you get it, there's something I must examine. Can you guess what it is, Julie? Ah, yes! I think you can!”

  Easing his fingers between the rear of her slim and tensing cheeks he took Julie's soft and intimate puss-flesh in his fingers, running his thumb lightly over the pink folds of flesh while the girl flinched and shivered with extreme sensitivity. “Ah, someone has been playing with you this evening, haven't they, Ju'? Was it Sian? Or have you been making love to yourself on the sly?” Julie uttered a mewling and squalling resentment at this slur upon her maiden virtue. I conclude from everything I saw that Julie masturbates a good deal. Even the tight denim-pants rubbing between her legs all day must keep her constantly aroused. Small wonder that her hands are always touching herself in that area! Even when the man was merely fingering her to examine the state she was in, Julie could hardly control herself. She writhed her legs upon him and began to utter those hard and greedy little cries of a young female animal on heat.

  At this he smiled again, drawing his hand from her. “We mustn't get you into bad habits, Julie! For the next fortnight, until you reach your destination, you must have your wrist-cuffs linked to a leather collar round your neck out of temptation's reach!” Julie gave another ill-natured squeal at this. But now the man was flexing in his hands a long and extremely supple bamboo cane. “You're asking to be flogged with the bamboo aren't you, Ju'? Bending over like that with those saucy little bottom-cheeks so lewdly parted!”

  He touched the cane across her trim and well-spread buttocks, while Julie writhed hard against the wooden steps of the ladder. At first I thought she was squirming in panic. But then, Maude, I saw that she was squeezing herself hard and lasciviously between her slender thighs. The randy little bitch was trying to finish off what the man's fingers had begun! To think that I might have chosen such a girl as lady of the manor! The only place for Julie is as the slave of the most lecherous tyrant. Yet the scene I now witnessed was shrill and raw enough to tear my nerves this way and that so that I trembled fit to drop. The man touched the cane lightly across the tensing and rounding cheeks of Julie's bottom. He thrashed once and made her gasp with the searing smart. He aimed low across her fat little bottom-cheeks and brought the cane down with a report like a pistol-shot. Julie screamed and bucked frantically against the ladder and the restraints. “Now you get twelve low across your bottom, Julie, where it really hurts!” said the chastiser softly. The very air whooped with the thrash!… thrash!… thrash!… of the cane. Julie shrieked and writhed with good reason. Her pert little bottom bore some splendid raised weals of bamboo. Three of them had interlaced so cruelly that the first ruby droplet welled up and trickled down the back of her slender thigh. The other men congratulated the chastiser on this evidence of his skill. “Lay into the little bitch!” said one of them. “She's needed it for a long time! Teach her a lesson in manners!” You may be sure he did! At one moment her screams were so shrill that one of the other men held Julie's head and pressed his hand over her mouth. It must have been a rare sensual experience for this fellow to have his hand over her mouth-one finger between her lips-as the cane whipped and whipped across Julie's bottom-cheeks, raising thin blueberry weals and then thrashing these till wine-red trickled. As Julie tried to force her screams through the covering hand, her tongue constantly licked and wetted his fingers as if in some lewd caress. They took her punishment far beyond anything which a reformatory would permit. At length, her head drooped. The fine-spun golden-blond hair broke from its little top-knot into a spreading veil. Half swooning under the bottom-punishment of the bamboo, Julie drooled through the fingers of the man who held his hand over her mouth. Even this, I believe, was done deliberately by the little minx to seduce him, for he made her take it back again. Indeed, now that the caning was over, Julie lay bottom-upwards over the ladder in the most abandoned manner. Her pert little bottom cheeks were in a sorry state and she writhed piteously.

  And yet, Maude, this writhing was sly and passionate self-love. As she lay strapped over the ladder Julie's slender thighs squeezed herself to climax, finishing what the man's fingers had begun. She did it quite shamelessly in front of them, ending with those short hard cries which have only one cause. They did not bother to pull Julie's pants up. Where she was going, she would not need them. Another sack was brought. A gag was slipped into her mouth. Her wrists were pinioned behind her and her ankles bound. Now it was Julie who was tumbled in, arse-upwa
rds, and the neck of the sack tied securely with a leather thong. A few minutes later the lights in the rooms went out and the four men emerged into the street. The two brawniest carried a sack each on their backs. Passers-by noticed only wrigglings and muffled mewings from the sacks, as if the two ruffians were disposing of unwanted kittens. The sacks were lowered into the luggage boot of the closed van. The lid was closed on the mewlings and squirmings and the van drove off. When I recovered my wits I found the door of my lodging had been unlocked as mysteriously as it was first fastened. Only upon my arrival home did my nerves give way at last. I was alternately distraught over the loss of Julie and then intrigued at the thought of being the harem master of two such girls.

  The older women of the palace should prune Sian's randiness a little.

  And how I would love to have Julie bottom-upwards over such a step-ladder! Yet I dare not breathe these thoughts to Dr. Raspail…

  Your loving but prostrate cousin Augustus Anonymous Augustus and Lady Maude XV. Lady Maude to Augustus Lago di Garda, 11 July My dearest Augustus, Your letter this morning, with its account of the magical “disappearance” of Julie and Sian in the two sacks, lightened my heart a good deal. Of course you must feel “put out,” as they say, that your little bitch Julie has been made off with in such a manner.