Opening the top of the desk, I found a long white ostrich plume awaiting me, as well as a pair of manicure tweezers. I procured them both and returned to face the panting half-naked brunette from her left side, so that she could not very well kick out at me. But then I took the precaution, just in case her excitement exceeded her secret willingness to play the rules of my little game for her own masochistic benefit, of tucking the tweezers and plume into the pocket of my robe, squatting down, and taking the felt belt of my robe out and binding it fast around her right ankle, with the other end drawn round and round a metal ring set into the floor. And this way, she could kick out only with her left foot, whilst I should be left free to proceed at my leisure.
“Oh, what are you doing to my friend, you hateful, odious beast!” Julia Denton cried out shrilly from the chair of treachery.
“I have no doubt that if you keep your lovely eyes open, Miss Denton,” I tauntingly remarked, “you will be able to see everything in detail without any need for my humble explanation. Now then, Miss Molly, to work! And remember, when you have had quite enough of this little exercise, you can stop it merely by begging me to pull your drawers off and show yourself quite naked to me for the rest of your good punishment!”
“I’d rather die first! You inhuman monster, wait till my mother hears of the depraved and monstrous things you are doing to me!” Molly Bashe sobbingly exclaimed. There were tears sparkling in her eyes, but I knew that they were from excitement rather than fear.
I rose now, took the plume from the pocket of my robe, which I let gape so that my quite intimate and unpresentable attire might be seen beneath-the braces and the trousers against whose fly my manhood made its forward protest-and I was naked to the waist, my somewhat hairy but quite sinewy chest exhibiting the promise of muscularity throughout all my bodily extremities, which assuredly must have been an impressive sight for Julia Denton, the virgin of this visiting pair, judging from her stupefied gasp of “Ohh my! How disgraceful! O, I won’t look, I won’t!”
She had promptly closed her eyes and screwed up her face into such a rictus of anguished outrage that I was hard put to keep from laughing, which of course would have ruined the entire show. I turned back to contemplate my beautiful self-offered sacrificial victim, and she arched herself forward a little in the most suggestive manner, her lips parted as if to speak, but I could understand what she had to say without the necessity of words. She longed for what was about to be inflicted on her. And if I had lowered those drawers of hers as I had first intended, I have no doubt that I should have found some telltale moisture in the vicinity of her only recently deflorated love- slit!
But at this point, I did not much care whether Miss Julia Denton saw or did not see the manifestation of my ardor, for she was going to be introduced to its cogent and undisguised structure after I had proceeded with her brunette companion. My back was to her now as I stood at Molly’s right side, facing her and at some distance. Slowly I extended the white ostrich plume toward her right breast, and her eyes widened and she tried to throw herself backwards. I was glad that I had taken the precaution of securing her right ankle to the floor ring, because this further constricted her movements and limited her range of liberty. The tip of the plume therefore touched the lovely crinkly bud of her nipple, and she caught her breath and her dark-blue eyes stared down at it in a kind of fearful suspense, not quite knowing what sensations would be aroused by this seance as compared with those of the only other occasion on which she had visited my sanctus sanctorum.
Delicately I grazed the lovely rosebud on that snowy loveglobe of hers until I could perceive that it was quivering and stiffened, the undoubted result of a tumescence brought about by this insidious attack upon one of the most sensitive thresholds of her erogenous system. Miss Molly Bashe was a very gratifying victim, I must give her full credit. With such a charming damsel at one’s disposal, one could readily follow step by step the progression of dalliance and chastisement which would lead to coital culmination. The angry throbbing of my stiffened cock informed me that it would be grateful for a shortened dalliance, but as I have always maintained the sacro and the cranial regions of the male are often contradictory; my mind therefore overruled my loins because my mind knew that the longer I kept Miss Molly Bashe in sweet insidious torment, the more Herculean satisfaction I myself should obtain, however long the waiting.
The plume now tickled her midriff and made its way to the dainty nook of her navel, tickling the bellybutton back and forth with a maddening slowness and insistence. Miss Molly Bashe squirmed and twisted herself, looking up at the ceiling, but keeping her eyes demurely closed. The tautness of her ripe young body was really an esthetic treat for my appreciative eyes; under the legs of her drawers I could observe the outline of the garters which held up her hose, and these sheaths shaped out in the most delightfully snug way the contours of her calves and thighs. Now that I had no chorus of beautiful female sycophants but could myself alone delectate over every minute nuance of this scene in my Snuggery, I began to believe that Miss Molly Bashe was even more mouth-wateringly desirable than when I had enjoyed her and her mother together on that previous occasion.
My feather now rose to the other breast, caressing the undercurve and thence to the left side and towards the armpit. “Ohh-aaahhh-ooohh!!” I heard her gasp, and there was a feverish and tremulous quality to these sounds, ononomotopoeic music which so graphically detailed both her physical and mental reactions to my dalliance.
In the curls of her armpit hair, I could perceive glistening globules of perspiration, and the smell of her naked skin was very heady. Coupled as it was to the delicate and persuasive jasmine scent which she had apparently applied before her visit to me on this afternoon, it was really an aphrodisiac-though I can assure you, dear reader, that my prick needed no such stimulant, being already impatient over the delay of its juncture with the soft twitching pink lips of Miss Molly Bashe’s deliciously responsive vulva.
I therefore continued to caress not only the side and the undercurve of her left breast but also the very sensitive armpit, and then down the side along the ribcage and back along the navel to her right side, whereupon I ascended the ostrich plume to the breast with which I had begun the session. Molly Bashe was squirming and twisting her loins in the most unashamed way by now. She had planted her left foot as solidly as she could, arching it on the toe of her dainty shoe, and she had also widened the gape between her delightfully stockinged legs as effectively as if I had bound the other ankle to the other floor ring. This maneuver and posture served to make her drawers extremely snug about the plump mound of her cunt, and just out of whimsy I ran the ostrich plume down to that intimate crevice and rubbed back and forth, though of course the drawers protected her from feeling the diabolically exquisite tantalus of this lubricious friction.
However, since I had moved a little to one side and permitted Julia Denton to stare with unimpaired vision at what was happening to her friend, I was rewarded by hearing that virginal witness utter a choking cry of stupefaction: “Ohhh! My God, poor Molly darling, why did you bring me into the den of such a fiend? Oh, I cannot bear to watch what that beast is doing to you, helpless as you are!”
I did not rebuke Miss Julia Denton for her insults of “monster” and “beast” as yet. When her turn came, she would pay full interest upon them, and I had no doubt she would be even readier to overcome her debt than psychologically she was now. Therefore, ignoring her vivid interjection, which itself gave me a clue to her personality (she doubtless was as affectatious as Miss Molly Bashe, yet inwardly was churning with an unhealthy and impatient yearning to experience the self-same ordeal!) I resumed the tickling with the ostrich plume. But now I went behind the squirming half-nude brunette and brought the ostrich plume down along the delightfully hollowed spinal column from her nape to the waistband of her drawers and back again, tickling her and making her wriggle and hunch her lovely white shoulders and turn her face back to me to reveal that her dark blue eyes were by now very humid and supremely dilated. It was a fine beginning!
Chapter 6
Now I stood behind Miss Molly Bashe to observe the elegant sculptuary of her bare white back and the adorable dimpled shoulders, as well, I confess, as to observe at closer range the magnificent jut of her bottom, encased in as it was in only the snug fitting drawers. I could not resist patting those sumptuous, resilient cheeks, and the brunette gave a startled little cry, arching forward while at the same time she turned her flushed face back over her shoulder to determine what I intended to do. By now, I thought I had detected more genuine than simulated modesty in her reactions, and I had no doubt that the emotional excitement of the moment had begun to carry this secretly eager masochist into an actual involvement with her role, one that far transcended the feigned pretense which she had thus far conveyed. Also, since I was behind her, I no longer blocked the view from the
