Aphrodizzia Read online

  In a little while, she and Katharine got up and ran down to the incoming tide, splashing into it and getting up to all sorts of healthy frolics. As they came back and walked up the beach to where I chanced to be standing, it was only natural that I should aim the camera and take several more shots of these two playful girls. As she noticed this, a shadow of doubt and dismay crossed Katharine's face.

  She turned to Claudia and they stood together, talking in a solemn and subdued manner with many a glance in my direction. They had not the least idea that I was the director of the establishment they attended-an amorous tyrant whom they had yet to meet! Presently, Claudia came up to me, with Katharine walking at a little distance behind. Although Claudia is the younger, she is already more proficient in the English tongue. “Excuse me,” she said, a little uncertain in her charmingly Germanic English, “I think you have been taking photographs of us. No?” I laughed hugely at this. “A man who takes scenes of the beach will necessarily take pictures of those who are upon it,” I said, “But why should that concern you-unless you were engaged in some dishonest or indecent conduct?”

  It seemed to relieve them a little that they were not the sole target of the camera. “Ah,” I said, as if trying to clear up a misunderstanding, “Do you mean that you would like me to take a photograph of you? You think I am a professional photographer, perhaps?”

  Imagine, Dolly, the penalties attached to such a crime-asking strange men to photograph them half-naked!

  However, they conferred together once more and then politely declined the offer. I regretted this but decided to try another tactic. “Tell me your names,” I asked, for though knowing them already, I thought of what must be done to a girl naughty enough to give her name to a strange man. Who knows what use some unscrupulous fellow might make of it? These two polite and eager young frauleins thought of no such thing. “My name is Katharine,” said our blonde Rhine-maiden, “I am coming from Cologne. I have seven years English in the grammar school.” Such frankness made me feel that, perhaps, my subterfuge was less than honourable. But now the nymph with the cropped and tousled hair piped up. “My name is Claudia. I am coming from Dusseldorf. I have five years English in the grammar school.” With that they made their polite farewells and went back up the beach. It was already growing cooler and Claudia was obliged to put on a black velveteen singlet to cover the upper half of her body. My pulse was beating faster with the thought of the pleasures which the evening would afford me. I began to make my way back to the house in order to prepare for them, thinking of your other “gifts” to me! At the tennis-court I saw the Swedish girl, Helena, as she emerged and began to walk back along the same road ten yards in front of me. She was dressed for the game, in no more than a white singlet and olive-green pants. My camera, dear Dolly, is so much an extension of my body that, before I thought of what I was doing, I raised it and began to take photographs of the slim blonde whose bare sunkissed legs twinkled ahead of me. She looked back once, saw the lens and heard the shutter click, then scampered onwards as fast as her slim shapely legs would carry her. So it was that I came to the end of a busy and rewarding afternoon. Katharine, Claudia, even Helena and indeed Elke, were now to be mine to deal with as I chose. I will not act the hypocrite, Dolly. The prospect of taking down the knickers of all four girls and caning their rounded bottoms was one which I thought of with stiffening excitement. Yet I hoped that such discipline would be the side-dish rather than the main course. How was I to accomplish my true feat of arms? How to thread Helena's pure young cunt or gratify Claudia's nymphlike backside? Have no doubt, Dolly, that I intended no less than these things and was determined upon them-if I must flee the country in consequence. A standing prick, they say, knows no conscience-and nor did I. Yet a man who will win such prizes must plot well for them. If I rushed matters that evening, I might gain no more than the lesser amusement of thrashing a few charming backsides. By restraining my passion for day or two at most, I might have pleasure enough to last me all summer.

  So for that evening I contented myself with the housemaid Sian, she of the soft fair-skinned face, the dark eyes, and the russet tresses which cluster to her collar. At twenty-one there is such a pouting petulance to the little red mouth-yet she knows her place. Did you ever see her in tight drawers or working-trousers and bodice? Sian is not fat and yet there is a delicious pale softness to her bubbies and arse-cheeks. Many a passing gentleman who spied her through the window in such a costume would find his gaze detained. I summoned her to my bedroom at ten, ordering her to wear the blouse and denim working-jeans in which her figure is best revealed. I kept her at tasks which involved her either kneeling so that her bubbies brushed my knees as I sat in the chair, or else in having her back to me and bending to some chore which offered the taut round cheeks of Sian's bottom. I asked her if she would like to earn two sovereigns. As usual, Sian's pouting little lips made a moue of protest but she nodded. I reached for the short leather riding-switch on the table and tapped the carpet at my feet. “Then kneel here, Sian, and do what you must.” She obeyed, kneeling, opening my fly, and taking the bone-hard penis in her mouth. Sian is a girl of the lower orders, adept in sucking the street-boys with whom she once mixed. As her red hair spilt about my loins and her mouth sucked the tip of my knob maddeningly, I several times had to restrain her. Sian wanted to draw the venom from me and earn her two sovereigns quickly. On the other hand, I was determined not to let her spoil the game. I wished her mouth to labour, her loins to toil and even to make Sian's bottom, work hard for its share of the spoils! Her pants came off, Sian's knickers discarded in the basket. She lay on her side, knees drawn up a little, and played with herself until the lubrication of her cunt began. Taking this on her fingers, she moistened my knob with it several times. Rough in my passion, I turned her on her back, held her knees apart, and entered the hot velvet passage between her legs.

  I rode my young filly in this manner for some while, pausing to prolong the enjoyment. Then I said, “Turn over and offer your young arse, Sian!” She turned on her belly but there was a tension in her body which would not let her open fully. I held her round the waist and gave a dozen ringing smacks on each cheek of Sian's bottom. Then her arse-entrance yielded and I enjoyed a second gallop. Drawing back at last, I knelt over her and obliged Sian to take the monstrous serpent and suck its venom from it. By these precautions, I was able to ease my own randiness and plan more carefully the drama I had in mind for the young nymphs of Germany and Austria. I believe, Dolly, when you read the next act of the comedy, you will understand that I was wise in my choice.

  FOUR

  Our hero's plan for the ravishing of his nymphs-The preparations-An education in English manners and customs-Claudia made to read of pretty Jane in the reformatory-The English way of discipline with knickers down-“When in Rome, do as the Romans do”-The scandal breaks-Claudia confronted with the evidence of her public indecency-“I fear I must now send these photographs to your unhappy parents”-“Oh, no! Please! Anything but that!” “Anything but that, Claudia?” “If you wish, sir.”-Claudia examined, blindfold, for her fitness to be birched-“Oh, what is that instrument between my legs?”-“Oh, no! Nor so far in!”-“All the mercury from the thermometre is spurting out inside me!”-The evening-Claudia's bare bottom soundly thrashed-Her tears and affectionate gratitude to her master! I need not tell you, my dear Dolly, of the dismay which appeared on the faces of Claudia and the others when they saw me as master of this house.

  They realised with growing consternation that the strange man who had photographed them surreptitiously on the beach was to be their guardian for the rest of the summer! I did not yet confront them with their crimes, for the full-plate prints were not ready. Yet I and my duenna prepared the girls for their fates by a simple process of education. They were to learn the customs of English society and, however unusual they might appear to be, these young ladies must school themselves to submit. When in Rome, do as the Romans do. That was to be the motto of this ho
use. For several hours a day, the girls worked at the books chosen for them. Do not suppose, Dolly, that I gave them those choice volumes which remain locked behind wires on the top shelves in the library-tales to make pretty little maidens blush. Such gems as Beatrice or The Days at Florville, Suburban Souls or Nights of the Rajah would be imprudent suggestions as yet. But I have not scrupled to set them reading James Miles's House of Correction memoirs-for what are these but law and justice?-and even a chapter or two of the gallant Adventures of Captain DeVane, describing Britannia's imperial glories. He who would enjoy taking down Claudia's knickers must first persuade the girl that the action is consonant with morality and the code of manners prevailing. Later I hope my charming pupils will graduate to the loving affections of father and daughter in Beatrice or Jacqueline Grant arse-upwards for ravishing in the Rajah's palace. But such frolics cannot come yet. It was enough for the time being to show my pupils how the noble Mr. Miles had dealt with such girls as Jennifer Parry or Elizabeth Craig, Elaine Cox or Jane Mitchener, even young women like Susan Webb. I therefore set each of my pupils the task of composing a long account in her own words of the training of one of the reformatory girls. You may imagine how careful I was in my allocation! It was one thing to set the birching of a saucy little imp or a randy young wife for Katharine, but Claudia required a more decorous subject. In the end I set Katharine to give an account of the fate of fifteen-year-old Elaine Cox, at the master's hands-a shouting, striding tomboy defiantly tossing the lank fair hair which framed the broad oval of her face with its slum-child's snub-nosed insolence! Katharine's eyes widened as she read of the scene in the reformatory whipping-room. The pleated grey skirt of the school uniform, worn scandalously brief on Elaine's sturdy thighs, was removed. The matrons strapped her kneeling over the block. Then the white stretched briefs were pulled down, baring the full pale cheeks of Elaine Cox's tomboy bottom for fifty agonising strokes with a prison bamboo cane. Claudia, meanwhile, was made to work at the amusing tale of the youngest girl, beguiling Jane, with her lank dark hair and fringe, the openness of her firm pale features and resilient young body whose beauties touched the frontier of childhood and womanhood. Claudia was so sentimentally moved that I expected a tear to fall at the fate of pretty Jane. Younger than Claudia herself, that appealing girl with her teeth set teasingly on her lip, the lank dark tresses framing her face, was bent over the stool and fastened down. With poor Jane's knickers and skirt removed, the very matrons felt a pang at her fate. The wide brown eyes under the brief slant of her fringe were so appealing. Though the blossoming womanliness of her figure was never in doubt, there was such a tense pale innocence of youthfulness in the shape of Jane's trimly-rounded adolescent bottom-cheeks as she bent for punishment. Alas for pretty Jane. Pity her they might, but this was a chance for which every matron and master longed. Twenty-four vicious lashes with the punishment-strap across Jane's bare buttocks. Still secured over the stool, her sobs hardly checked, she was then alone with her master.

  There being no witnesses to tell tales, the cane, the birch, even the braided leather of the pony-lash made their intimate acquaintance with her young backside. For two weeks or more in the washroom, the matrons watched the fading of empurpled weals and dark bruises from Jane's demure young buttocks and thighs. I will tell you of a little incident, Dolly, which may bring a smile to your lips. Claudia was busily translating Jane Mitchener's story, her eyes growing ever larger with wonderment. I could see she was having difficulty with one of the pages, which she then brought to me for my advice. Before the evening thrashings, the rules required that Jane should be inspected by the master in the afternoon so that her fitness for the whip might be certified. He removed her skirt, also the stretched white briefs which constituted Jane's schoolgirl knickers. Then she must bend over his desk while he surveyed her from behind. Young Jane was, of course, ordered to keep her eyes to the front. The inspection lasted for half an hour or so. Still Jane was greatly perplexed to know what instrument was used. In her teasing innocence she thought it was like a pair of warm whiskery lips in a pouting kiss. The kisses, as they seemed, feasted on the bare pallor of her trim adolescent thighs. They nuzzled the lightly-mossed lips of her vagina until she did not know whether the wetness came from her or them. They pouted with gentle affection over the tense white cheeks of her trembling teenage bottom. Yet they could not be lips, she said, blushing at her own explanation. For her buttocks were parted a moment later and the gentle pouting was applied to the very dimple of Jane's little anus. Then, she explained, there would be a sound from behind her as of vigorous polishing. It ended with the sense that long but random jets had splashed her bum-cheeks from a plate of warm gruel. She was told to remain bending while her master left the room for a moment. Jane naturally put a hand behind her and wiped her backside with it, studying with curiosity the marks of the warm slipperiness on her fingers.- When the master returned-presumably from putting away the instrument of the inspection-he would sometimes open the long drawer of the desk. There, among the canes and whips, was a roll of useful paper. He tore off a sheet or two and ordered Jane to wipe her bum-cheeks before pulling up her knickers. She was instructed to drop the used paper in the basket before she left and that night the master thrashed her with exceptional severity.

  Imagine Claudia's puzzlement and her question to me! As a mere student of English she could not grasp the meaning of the passage! I was very gentle with her, Dolly, explaining that such posthumous memoirs often posed problems to the greatest scholars. I comforted her with the assurance that the passage of time would, in truth, make such doubtful pages clear. I was intrigued to see the contrast between Claudia's innocence and the worldly wisdom of our voluptuous Rhinemaiden, Katharine. The elder girl asked no questions. Indeed, she read avidly the confessions of the lewd old fellow who enjoyed himself so greatly with some of the reformatory girls. In this case, I would notice her pulse quicken a little as she read of the enforced kneeling over the block, the strapping down, so that the master should have fun with his whip upon the full pale cheeks of Elaine Cox's bottom.

  Katharine licked her lips as the account described the vulgar rear view of the youngster's vaginal pout between her thighs and the justices gazing at Elaine Cox's arsehole. In this case too an “inspection” carried out privately in the master's study had preceded the caning. I promise you, Dolly, that with my own eyes I saw Katharine read one passage several times over with growing animation.

  In her posture over the block, said the scribe, the fifth-form girl's pussy flesh had the moist look of having been well fiddled with.

  Suspicious traces of grease even shone between her buttocks and the withdrawal of a deflated member had left a smear of vaseline across one fattened cheek of Elaine Cox's tomboy bottom. The girls were greatly intrigued by these strange English customs, the truth of which could not be questioned. For was not the master publicly prosecuted by the courts? And was he not exonerated, congratulated by his judges, handsomely rewarded, and sent back to continue his excellent work of moral reformation? That being the case, what could Katharine and Claudia do but bow to the law of the land and the customs of the country? I allowed several days' grace for them to grow used to this idea-and also for some truly excellent prints to be made of the incriminating photographs. Then I spoke to my duenna, Miss Leach, and showed her the evidence. Her eyes shone with moral outrage and she could scarcely keep her hands still. There were Katharine's breasts, almost life-size, in their scandalous little halter. The erection of her nipples was clearly shown to every man and woman on the public beach! Miss Leach, a tall and statuesque young woman herself, gasped at the indecency of it and pursed her lips. I showed her the full-plates of Claudia in swim-wear taken from the rear while the girl was on all fours, Claudia's tightly and briefly clad bottom-cheeks almost filled the picture. And how round and lewdly spread they were!

  How wantonly the soft flesh of her cunt was displayed to the world in the tight gusset of her bathing pants! Could English morality
be denied its right of retribution for so scandalous an offence? “I fear, Miss Leach,” I said, “that such girls as this will prove a pernicious influence here.” She nodded eagerly. “And so,” I added, “my duty is clear. I must send copies of these prints to the parents of the two girls and request that their daughters return to Germany.” At these words, Miss Leach looked as if the breath had been knocked from her by a sudden blow. The light went out of her eyes and dismay spread over her face. “Is that not a little harsh, sir?” she ventured. “Might some means not be found of dealing with the offence here, on these premises?” Well now, Dolly, I put on a great show of wrestling with my conscience. At last I condescended to reply. “If it were possible, Miss Leach, that their characters might be improved by chastisement-by truly severe chastisement-I would perhaps consider it. Though it would be against my better judgment.”

  “One must temper justice with a little clemency, sir,” said she.

  “Oh, do relent, sir! Do give them the alternative of a birching. A truly severe one!” I had never intended otherwise but I thought it prudent to appear to wrestle with my better nature for a moment more. “Do you think, Miss Leach,” I said at last, “that if I were to deal with one of these young wantons, you could bring yourself to chastise the other?” The sudden flash of passion in her eye was enough to answer my inquiry. You see, Dolly, I had already decided that Claudia's panties were the ones I most desired to take down. And by allowing Miss Leach the pleasure of disciplining Katharine all night long in the privacy of her study, I could guarantee that my duenna would be the very soul of discretion. Were I to keep all the enjoyment to myself, there was a great danger of the resentment which passionate minds begin to feel. So it was agreed. I summoned Claudia, my pulse quickening as she stood before the study desk with her heart-shaped face so solemnly pretty and the short crop of charmingly tousled fair hair so appealing. “Claudia,” I said firmly, “I wish you to go and put on the costume in which you appeared on the beach, four days ago.” She made no objection to this for, at her age, she has been well taught to obey her elders. Ten minutes later she reappeared in the tight thin cloth of her breast-halter and those sweet little briefs. She had added the black velveteen singlet whose shoulder straps left the shoulders themselves charmingly bare, but that would interfere little with my purpose. “So that there shall be no mistake,” I said quietly, “I wish you to look at these photographs and tell me if you are the girl who appears in them.”