jewels appeared to my enthralled gaze in all the radiancy of their beauty. Bowing down, my mouth pressed them, as if they were the feet of a saint in a holy tabernacle.
“No, my friend,” she said, rapidly drawing them beyond the reach of my kiss, “the fire of the rod must first enliven you. Come quickly and be naked so that I may bathe you in myrrh and incense.”
She led me to the red room where there was a wealth of fresh-cut flowers of vivid hues in an atmosphere saturated with aphrodisiacal perfume.
I discarded all clothing, and naked, I felt as if in a scented, tepid bath, drawing in lascivious excitement at every pore, provoking a tantalising upheaval of my deepest lust.
With a cry of triumph, I fell on my knees, joining my hands in adoration.
The superb creature had slipped off her robe, and stood before me like Venus rising from the sea, exposing the whole of her naked body. It was the statue of Phidias incarnate. Aphrodite without her sex; pure because so beautiful; divine marble; the incomparable perfection of sublimity in art.
No shady bush tinted the swelling curves of her mount. There was no curling tuft to hide the quadruple pink petals of the blossom of supreme voluptuousness.
Whispering Virgil's lines: Vera incessu patuit dea! I fell giddily to the ground, and my avidious lips clung to the marvellous feet I saw before me.
At the same moment, the rod descended on my buttocks, skimming over my skin with its incandescent ends, showering sparks of fire upon me.
I groaned with joy under the scalding rain, as I vibrated with happiness at the foot of the living statue that flogged me. She was more beautiful than any dream of painter or poet.
She moved about, and my tongue, fearful of losing one single crumb of enjoyment, slavishly followed every step of her delicious feet, fleeing from me on the thick carpet. Her birch kept on striking and biting my backside with fierce precision, causing the fiery ardour of the twigs to penetrate into the marrow of my bones, while my thirsty mouth ws refreshed by the ineffable delights of the divine marble feet, as I sucked the mother-o'-pearl toe-nails. I writhed and rolled on the ground, moaning and gasping in delirium, crawling all round the room, in my chase after these marvellous feet; pursued myself by the smarting swishes of the rod that inflamed my rump and quickened my desires.
The sublime statue, exhausted by this Homeric struggle and by the efforts of her arm brandishing the birch, fell prostrate near me, and I threw myself on her like a wild beast on its quarry.
My greedy mad mouth followed the luminous pathe of her marble legs, and guided by this pair of glorious columns, as if led through the Milky Way; urged on, too, by blissful intoxication caused by the faint fragrance of the sexual flower of woman-kind, I reached at last the holy chalice of supreme voluptuous pleasure.
It was now her turn to shudder in a torturing spermatic spasm, and opening her marvellous arms, she drew me upon her in an embrace which momentarily destroyed our reason.
When I came back to my senses, after this unlocking of the sluice-gates of my virility, every drop of blood seemed to be drawn from my body. I was alone in the room. The statue had disappeared.
I passed the palms of my hands over my body, stroking my poor hinder globes, burning from the onslaught of the cruel branches. My expert flogging Venus had so cunningly aimed her cuts, that despite our struggle and my wild gyrations, not one blow had gone astray.
My buttocks blazed in agony. The silky rod, causing this irritation, far from calming me, had rendered my craving for energetical punishment still more vehement. I was sorry my beautiful flogging friend had so soon abandoned her royal sceptre, and left me in solitude with my tormenting yearnings.
However, there was a surprise in store for me. After a few minutes, the door opened. I saw a lady come in. She was beautifully dressed in a black satin frock and she held in her hand two long, strong rods.
I recognised adorable Nelly in this new disguise. The formidable bundles of birch she carried left me without a doubt as to her intentions. From the bottom of my heart, I offered up thanks to this considerate and intelligent young woman, who comprehended my tortures, coming to succor me in the hour of need.
“Now, dear friend,” she said softly, “I have to flog you most severely. Stretch yourself on that bench!”
I dragged myself slowly to the piece of furniture she pointed out, without uttering a word, so impatient was I for the sting of real, powerful rods on my inflamed bottom.
The two cushions, one on top of the other, securely fixed to the middle of the long settee without a back, forced the middle of the victim's body to jut out high up, this exposing the posteriors fully to the birchen caress, while the upper part of his frame and legs sloped down on either side of the little hillock.
In a jiffey, I felt myself fastened on the bench by means of thick straps buckled round my waist and encircling the top of my thighs, preventing me making the slightest movement. My queen then tied my hands and feet to bronze handles screwed at each end of the wooden frame. I sighed with happiness, because I kept repeating inwardly that I now felt myself in the power of my goddess, the living statue of angelical beauty.
Grasping one of the rods, she struck me squarely. The blow went home. A thousand sharp points pricked my flesh hungering for the torment; a thousand tiny jets of flame seared and grilled my backside. These were no longer the silky strokes that had caressed me with comparative tenderness while I had become as a drunken man by reason of the taste and fragrance of her pink marble feet, and velvet sexual grotto. The supple birch flogged on still, flaying my smarting skin. Its elastic leaping and bounding strokes drew groans of anguish from me. These firm, deliberate cuts, digging deeply down into the flesh of my posteriors to incrust their scalding lance-points, were the source of divine delightful sensations.
I admire the adorable flogging lady whose strength was masked by infinite grace. She was marvellouly handsome in this costume that I saw for the first time. It metamorphosed the Grecian statue into a haughty Society lady, of distinguished bearing and rare elegance. My heart was full of pleasure; I ws joyous and proud of her power. I thought no blow from her could be too heavy, so sublime was her beauty.
The warmth generated by her efforts acted on her, too, bringing fresh animation into her birching task, and the rod whistled shrilly before it fell and fell again on my writhing rump, that vibrated under the ruthless assault.
I moaned and writhed as the elastic twigs flogged me, so vigorously wielded was the rod by Nelly's practised, muscular arm. The points of the twigs spread out fan-like all over my behind, covering the skin, tightly stretched my arched posture, with flaming weals and livid cuts.
The end came at last. The lovely young woman dropped her instrument of love and pain. With a sigh of relief, I looked upon her-a light of supplication in my eyes.
“Stifle your joy for a time,” she said. “I've not done yet. You've only had half your dose.”
She then clasped the new rod, and passing round to the other side, began again, striking harder than before. The fresh twigs hurt me horribly, striking on the bruised surfaces of my bottom-cheeks. Each deep indent of the cuts seemed to lay my flesh open. The strokes were inflicted with elastic force, as a loud swishing sound preceded each slash. I wriggled under the series of stripes, begging for pity and clemency, but inexorable whipping Nelly flogged me with insensate rage, unheeding my shrieks of agony.
She stopped quite suddenly, and I thought I should die of happiness, when I saw her throw up her scented skirts, showing me clouds of lace and silk. She strode over my head, straddling on the nape of my neck, and the warmth of her divine flesh penetrated into my whole being. Engulphed in the delicious maze of her perfumed underworld, I sobbed and choked for sheer felicity, as lifting her rod high, my amazon gave me ten awful, strong, well-aimed blows, directing the points of the twigs between my thighs. These scorching cuts, violating the precincts of my manhood, caused such penetrating voluptuous laceration of the sources of manhood, that in a violent spasm of sexual gushing rapture, my reservoirs of lust burst their dykes, thrilling me from head to foot and depriving me of my reason. So there I lay as if dead, swooning in repeated throes of the keenest spurting enjoyment.
Freed from my bonds, I knelt before my enchantress, covering her hands with kisses of delirious gratitude.
“You are a fairy and a sorceress,” I said. “Thanks to you, I have experienced the greatest joys of life!”
CHAPTER XIII
As I left the mysterious flat of incomparable Nelly Lamb after having presented the birching sorceress with a
