The company, as I recall it, consisted of some fifty persons, thirty of which were women and girls, the remainder young men.
My first surprise came when I viewed the type of dress I was supposed to wear at these rehearsals. I use the term “dress” lightly. If a pair of short, lacy drawers can be called a dress, then they were dresses. What shocked me more was that the female members of the company were expected to change from street clothes in plain sight of the men. Some even seemed to enjoy it, going so far as to literally strip stark naked before them. And, strangely enough-I thought-the men seemed to take little or no notice of them. It was with much misgiving that I likewise stripped off my outer clothes and took my place with the others.
Despite my nervousness and seeming modesty, don't think I wasn't aroused, my dear. Having been away from the caresses of Vera for so long a period, and having none other with whom I might indulge my passion, I became quite smitten with some of the girlish charms I saw so freely displayed. Indeed, I became quite overcome with them.
And the talk among them! Everyone, it seemed, had a sweetheart, and each one seemed to be competing with the others in their descriptions of them. This one had a boyfriend who possessed the most wonderful cock in the whole world. Another boasted of the wonderful party she and her friend had attended; there had been endless quantities of wine and champagne, and long before midnight the whole crowd had taken off their clothing and finished the night in the various beds supplied for the purpose. The teller of the story seemed to be the heroine of the evening and boasted of the fact that she had had two men at one time.
Very startling to say the least. No one seemed to pay the least attention to me; they simply took me for granted. It being but a rehearsal, I got through with it somehow. There were two full weeks of this, and by the end of that time, I became quite used to the whole thing, even to the point of going about almost completely naked. Before the opening of the show, I had forgotten all about such a thing as modesty and found myself undressing- quite nonchalantly-in the presence of the male members of the company.
And when this idea of modesty had forever been banished from my thoughts, I took to it like a duck takes to water. Indeed, I quite surprised myself. And do not think for a moment, my dear, that I hadn't chances to pick out a lover. Indeed, no! There was a never-ending line to choose from. It being a new show, and a good place to pick out new beauties, the stage and wings were constantly filled with men and women who, as I stated before, flirted in the most brazen manner. While several of the girls listened to the giddy tales whispered into their ears, I remained aloof. I wanted none of them. The man who was to get my maidenhead was to get it through pure love and not for a cheap thrill.
As I have already mentioned, by the time the show opened I had become quite used to appearing in various stages of undress among the members of the troupe, but the opening night was quite something else again, and I'll never forget the thrill I experienced when the curtain went up! As I have said, my costume was brief. It consisted of but a tiny, fluffy skirt which flared out about my waist, while the waist-if you could call it such-was nothing more than a bit of gauze which left both breasts naked.
My part in that first show was small. It consisted of a few lines, and I sang in the assembly numbers. But it wasn't the lack of a juicy role that bothered me; it was the almost complete state of undress in which I was obliged to perform. Now, it also happens that I was positioned beside our leading lady-or prima donna, as she was known- and she was always whispering encouraging words into my ear. This woman was about thirty years old. Besides being very beautiful, she had a splendid voice, and at that time was all the rage in Vienna. She was the whole show, of course. That opening night the stage was a sea of flowers. Baskets and boxes of them sat everywhere.
There was nothing of the drama about the thing; it was a simple little Shakespearean era piece chosen primarily for its erotic songs, a part quite suited to our prima donna. I well recall a little scene in the last act. The stage was set like a flower garden. In the center of this bower-like place was a flower-decked couch, and upon this reclined our leading lady. Just before the curtain descended on this last act, I was supposed to step close to her- while she lay upon the couch in almost total nakedness-and sprinkle flower petals down on her upturned face. I was doing very nicely until she touched my thigh with one of her hands, a little gesture which quite startled me. She whispered something to me, but I was so taken by surprise at her silken touch that I didn't make out the words.
As is the custom on opening night, the “elite” gave our prima donna a party backstage. I had heard considerable whisperings going on and, from what I heard, I gathered it was to be something most unusual, so I gracefully made my exit. I was hardly ready for a wild party as yet. The following evening, however, I heard all about it, and then I was doubly glad I hadn't taken part, for the whole affair turned itself into a most awful orgy. All the members of the company, as well as the men and women guests, stripped stark naked and indulged in every method of sexual pleasure quite openly.
The second night I didn't escape quite so easily, however.
During the last act, when I had to sprinkle her with the rose petals, she whispered to me that I should come to her dressing room as soon as I could after the closing scene. Wondering what she could want with me, I mentioned it to some of the others. I saw them shrug their shoulders and wink their eyes meaningfully, but they said little. I was determined to find out something about it; the apparent mystery surrounding the reason for my invitation prompted me to delve into it further, and so I managed to corner a little blonde. When I asked her what our prima donna could possibly want with me, she smiled faintly, and said, “She's awfully nice-if you like her kind- and she gives those she favors wonderful presents.'
And then she turned and walked off, leaving me quite as much in the dark as ever. What she meant by that I hadn't the slightest idea-but I was soon to know.
Upon entering our prima donna's dressing room, I found her still changing.
'Sit down,” she said, smiling very prettily, then: “What happened last night, my dear? You didn't stay for my party?'
I made some excuse or other, and she went on: “Ah, I know! You are a very naughty girl! You had a lover waiting for you; but you should have invited him here to my party! He would have enjoyed it, I'm sure!” And she looked at me from beneath her long lashes in a very naughty manner.
She then told me that she wished me to go to her apartment with her, and since I could not gracefully refuse, I accepted her invitation. The others had already departed by the time we emerged, and a few moments later, we entered a carriage and were driven off to what proved to be her “hotel.” This was a very famous retreat among the gentry at that time, and there she maintained a suite. There were nine rooms in all, and until that time, I had never seen anything nearly approaching it in splendor. Two large drawing rooms, an elegant dining room, a dressing room, and last but not least, a beautiful sunken bath. Everything was literally covered with flowers. It was indeed a fairy bower if I ever saw one.
Left alone for the moment, I cast my eyes about. I saw many small pieces of statuary of the most erotic kind, many depicting various women of past fame. All were nudes.
At the end of the drawing room I first entered, there hung a life-size painting of the prima donna, herself. It was also a nude. She had posed for it, she said, and I believed her, for the artist had brought out every detail of her body and limbs, even to the patch of golden hairs on her lower belly and her lovely pink-lipped cunt. It was very accurate as I was later able to attest. While I stood admiring it, she joined me.
'Does it look like me?” she asked, slipping one arm about my waist and pressing me against her body.
I made some complimentary remark about it, I remember. Her only answer was to pat my bottom in a caressing manner and kiss me. Perhaps it was what I said about the picture, or it might have been that she took me for granted, but whatever the reason, the lady asked, “Do you know why I have invited you here, darling?'
When I answered in the negative, she said: “Seeing you in that naughty little costume caused me to think that I would love to have you for a whole night. You would like to stay and sleep with me, wouldn't you, dear?'
I made some silly excuse about having to be home-which wasn't true-and she promptly sent a messenger with a note telling my maid that I was staying with her that night.
It was obvious she was in the habit of having her own way. However, I made another attempt to get out of it. I had no idea of what was in store for me, and though I hadn't the slightest objection to spending the whole night with her in her bed, I didn't want to get caught there and have her stage a party like the one she had had the previous night. I hadn't the slightest desire to be ravished by a man I didn't know.
I said, “But aren't you afraid I'll disturb you by remaining here with you all night?'
'Nonsense,” she cried, kissing me again and again. “Besides, I'm going to enjoy holding you in my arms and kissing you all night.'
