bigger than Rene or Leonard, and had something which neither of the other two possessed, a growth of dark, crisp hair on his pubic regions. He hurt me a little, but he was careful and despite the slightly painful distension I soon began to feel the warm, sensuous tremors which precede orgasm. His slow, cautious thrusts brought my organism to a, pitch of excitation such as I had not yet experienced, and when the climax came I almost fainted with the intensity of the ecstasy. Afterwards, he showed me where my fingernails had actually cut into his flesh while I was hugging him in the crisis. He was a very gentlemanly little fellow and thanked me in the most courteous and serious manner imaginable for having let him do it to me. In addition, he made me glow happily by telling me that I had the prettiest legs of any girl he had ever seen. Bryan had the makings of a real courtier.
Before long my popularity was spreading and new suitors for my favors were appearing almost magically. Sometimes even boys and young men I did not know accosted me in the streets, some humbly and supplicatingly, and others quite impertinently.
Instead of being alarmed at this situation I took it as a flattering indication of my popularity. And, inevitably, I discovered that the soft nest between my legs, upon which a filmy growth of silky hair was beginning to grow, could be made to hatch financial rewards as well as genetic pleasures.
That some horrible fate did not overtake me as the result of my complacency with utter strangers is only proof of the old, old theory that guardian angels look after the safety of children and fools, sometimes, at least.
Once I made an appointment with a man to meet him at a certain corner after dark, expecting to be taken to a room. He led me into an alley of such sinister and abandoned aspects that I did indeed become alarmed and refused to go any further. For a while he tried to persuade me with flattering words and promises of generous compensation, but the more he talked, the more uneasy I became, and finally, cursing me viciously, he turned away and quickly disappeared.
One night a young man of genteel but delicate physical features accosted me in terms so respectful and courteous that I listened to his insinuations and consented to accompany him to his room which, though far from pretentious, was neatly and comfortably furnished.
I had long since discovered that men's first thoughts were to see me naked as quickly as possible; they seemed literally burning to gorge their eyes with the spectacle of my nudity, so as soon as I was in the privacy of a room I always undressed down to my hose and slippers without waiting to be asked.
No sooner was the door closed behind us in this instance than I started to take off my clothes. But the young man stopped me with a gesture.
“No, no!” he exclaimed, “don't undress!”
I paused uncertainly.
“I've got to take off my clothes… my panties anyway… don't you want to see me naked?”
“No, no! Don't take off anything! I'll tell you what to do, don't do anything except just what I tell you. You'll get your money.”
“But… but what do you want me to do?”
“I'll show you. Just sit down and wait. I'll be back in a minute.”
I sat down in the chair he indicated and he disappeared into an adjoining room, closing the door behind him. I heard him moving about, and five minutes later he appeared again, strip, stark naked. He was rather thin, but his skin was white and clean. His cock, entirely indifferent to the proximity of a feminine spectator, hung down inert and listless.
Crossing the room he unlocked a cabinet and took from it a bundle of thin, pliant switches. Selecting one of these he extended it toward me and murmured in a voice which was both low and supplicating:
“Take this switch and whip me as hard as you can.”
I gazed at him mute with stupefaction.
“Come!” he urged, putting the switch in my hand.”
“You're joking!” I managed to exclaim.
“What do you want me to whip you for?”
“Oh, don't waste time asking questions! Do as I ask and you'll get your money!”
I saw that he was in earnest and, thinking that I had to deal with a crazy man whom it would be best to humor, dazedly got to my feet clutching the switch which he had placed in my hand.
“Whip me as hard as you can!” he whispered huskily, indicating the cheeks of his bottom with a gesture.
Fearfully, I drew back the slender birch and brought it forward against his flesh with a smart thwack.
“Harder!” he said, “as hard as you can!”
I repeated the blow, with greater force.
“Keep on! Don't stop! Don't be afraid!”
In obedience to this exhortation I struck him several more blows in succession.
“That's the way… only harder!” he exclaimed.
Again I drew the birch back and this time it fairly whistled through the air as it rained stinging cuts over his thighs and buttocks. In its wake livid crisscross lines began to appear on the white flesh. As I saw these marks developing under my blows a curious sensation began creeping up through my own body. A sort of fury took possession of me and instead of feeling sorry for the pain I was inflicting I felt an urge to increase his torment. My face was hot and my heart beat violently. I clenched my teeth and put all the strength I possessed behind the swishing birch.
He stood there rigidly, his eyes glassy, distended, an ecstatic expression on his face. And then I noticed something else. His cock, which had at first been hanging lifelessly down, was coming into a slow erection. It was expanding in size and jerking convulsively at short intervals and with each jerk it lifted itself upward a little higher.
I watched it with fascinated eyes and as it slowly assumed its maximum of rigidity and erection the first shiver of something akin to lewd voluptuousness kindled within me. I comprehended that in some manner there was a relation between the whipping I was inflicting on him and my own obscure, erotic reaction, and I tried to increase the severity of my blows.
“Enough!” he gasped suddenly, and snatching the whip from me he flung it across the room. “Now! Frig me quick!” And he seized my hand and placed it upon his cock.
I was now in a state in which I would have welcomed a reciprocal caress, even masturbation, but I dared not disobey him. Supporting his testicles with one hand I pumped his cock frenziedly with the other and before I had made a dozen passes his seminal fluid was spurting from my fist in copious jets.
For this service, my first experience in the realms of abnormal sexual practices, the young man presented me with ten shillings and I went home marveling, not only at his curious eccentricity, but at the peculiar sensations I myself had experienced while occupied with the weird business.
My moral status was now pretty well established in the neighborhood in which I had lived since infancy. The echos from shrewish tongues to the effect that “something should be done” had reached my ears on more than one occasion. I had not been able to conceal my occasional financial affluence from Mamma Agnes who had taken note of mysteriously acquired bits of finery and articles of personal adornment which could not be readily accounted for. Her comments, at first veiled, became more cynical as time went on. Her well-founded suspicions were justified when, returning one afternoon at an hour much earlier than the usual one, she opened a door which Rene and I, grown careless with respect to elementary precautions, had left unlocked.
When we first saw her she was swaying tip-sily in the open door. Tipsy, yes, but not too tipsy to realize the significance of the picture which confronted her. I, my breasts still heaving under the stimulation of an orgasm just effected, lying on the bed with my panties off and the rest of my clothing in guilty disarray, and Rene, his pants unbuttoned in front and his still rigid cock projecting therefrom as he reached for a towel to wipe it off in the precise moment in which the movement of the door attracted our attention.
There was a dull minute of silence; silence frozen and absolute except for the imperturbable ticking of the small china clock on the dresser. Raising her hands in front of her with the palms outward in a gesture of renunciation, Mamma Agnes murmured thickly:
“I war-r-shh me hands of the pair of ye!”
And she closed the door upon us, leaving Rene and me to stare at each other in blank dismay.
“Gee, Sis! Why didn't you latch the door?” exclaimed Rene when the sound of her footsteps had died away.
