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 in 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.