Leaning forward and carefully parting the curtains, I gazed into the next room. It was a strange place, if ever I saw one. All about were strange pieces of furniture, if one may call devices such as these furniture. There were pulleys, strange-looking benches and chairs, all equipped with straps.
There was an affair not unlike one seen in workshops-what is known as a “horse” on which mechanics saw boards, though instead of the flat top, it was almost knife sharp. I was to learn afterward that this unusual piece of furniture was known as the “Berkley Horse,” a very wicked and cruel affair, to say the least. However, that strange thing had little or nothing to do with what I was about to witness.
The countess, when I gazed through the curtains, was pulling on a glove. This, I was to learn later, was for the purpose of protecting her palm against the ravages of the whip handle, a wooden affair of the type commonly used in northern Russia.
This adjusted to her satisfaction, she picked up the long-lashed “knout” and flicked it wickedly through the air. A shudder passed through me! “Could it be possible,” I thought, “that she intended to use this wicked instrument on a girl?'
My speculations were cut short, however, by the appearance of the girl Molly, who had served us the wine.
And here I was to witness what I believe was the strangest affair I had ever heard of. And then, as though the devil himself was looking out for me and reading my mind for my slightest wish, the girl-the one who had removed my slippers and stockings-glided noiselessly into the room.
When first I saw her enter the room, she was wearing the sorry excuse for an apron I had first seen her in, but she quickly removed it was stark naked.
'You shouldn't have come here,” I said in a low tone, pulling her down beside me. “Your mistress might not understand; she might take it upon herself to punish you, too.'
The girl smiled and cuddled her smooth, warm body close, and whispered into my ear, “There is no danger of that, since it isn't my day to be punished.” I thought her rather composed.
'Not your day?” I asked, surprised at this strange remark.
She nodded her head then explained: “We have certain days to be whipped; mine comes again next week.'
'Then you have already been whipped for some offense?'
She smiled faintly. “There was no offense,” she whispered.
'Why, then, does she whip you girls?” I asked, pressing amorously against her. “Your body should be reserved for kisses.'
She pointed toward the curtain, then said, “If you will but watch, you shall see why.'
Again I applied my eye to the crack between the curtains.
The countess was sitting on a divan, her right leg across her left one. The girl who was to be whipped was standing in the center of the room. Suddenly, the countess rose and walked directly in front of the girl; she was swishing the lash through the air.
'You were dreadful today! Why did you keep my guest and me waiting! Were you trying to anger me?'
'No, madam,” came the faint answer.
'Is that all you can say, ‘No, madam!’ and without waiting for the answer, she went on: “Then there is another matter. Why did you enter Yvonne's room last night, when you know I have forbidden you girls to entertain each other!'
The girl dropped her face. “I'm very sorry, madam, I forgot. It shall not happen again.'
'That is not good enough, and for your forgetfulness I shall give you an unusually severe whipping! Now kiss my feet!'
Without a word the girl dropped to her knees and, clasping both her mistress’ feet in her hands, rained kisses all over them, raising them one at a time and quite caressing both the instep and pinkish sole.
Afterwards, the countess said, “Now kiss the whip.'
Obediently, the girl did this, clasping it in both hands and kissing the lashes as well as the wood handle.
Obviously, the countess seemed to have forgotten all about me, for after making the girl stand and submit to having her hands fastened to two straps which were then drawn up far above her head, she said: “You are very pretty, Molly, and it's a shame to stripe your lovely body, but it shall be! I am dreadfully hot today, so I am afraid I shall strike hard! But don't worry, my dear, you shall have your reward-afterward!'
The lash fell across the tender flesh, making the girl lunge forward.
Drawing the nude girl closer, I whispered, “Why does she whip that girl? She has done nothing to warrant such a beating!'
The girl, snuggling close in my embrace, nibbled with her pearly teeth at the lobe of my ear, then she whispered, “I wish it were me she was whipping! I love it so!'
'You love to be whipped?” I asked, hardly believing my own ears.
'Yes! It's the only way in which we are allowed to enjoy ourselves!'
'Tell me,” I whispered, “Doesn't your mistress ever allow you girls to relieve each other's suffering-in bed, I mean?'
'We are allowed only the pleasure from the whip-she whips us until we come from the heavenly torture!'
'Then?” I asked, caressing the flesh of her belly and thighs.
'Then we have to caress her-with our lips and tongue-until she has had her pleasure!” The girl seemed greatly moved now; there was little doubting the sincerity of her statements.
I took another look between the curtains before venturing to ask my next question. The girl was still struggling beneath the lash, her back and thighs showing red marks-I knew that there must be an end to this strange affair before many more moments passed or else she would surely kill the girl. I said, “Do you enjoy giving pleasure to her that way?'
'I love it!” came the ready answer.
'Would you like to do it to me-now?” I asked.
Instead of answering, the girl slid quietly to the floor between my knees! I couldn't be mistaken now! I raised my foot and put it upon the divan. Instantly her hands came to my crotch! Carefully she smoothed the hairs back, and holding the slit quite open, applied her half-opened mouth to it! Wild with desire for it, I strained closer to her face! Her tongue came across the clitoris, toyed with it for a moment, then, like a javelin, darted into the depths like only one trained in the art can do!
Now I turned my attention to the occupants of the next room.
Strangely enough, I no longer thought the countess cruel. Indeed, I thought it quite fitting that she should whip the girl! It's strange, isn't it, how quickly one can change from a tender, mild person to a cruel, wanton one. That was me. For the first time in my life, I gloried in the suffering of another! I thought the countess quite beautiful in her radiant nakedness! I thought the victim beautiful, too!
That the whole affair was nothing short of a ritual never entered my mind until much later. The victim, her fists clenched, every muscle of her splendid body drawn taut, was staring at the ceiling. Her legs were well apart. Her loins were moving in spasmodic little jerks; now they rotated, the cheeks of her well-formed bottom opening and closing!
Then, when it occurred to both that the proper moment had arrived, the girl cried, “Now! Now! Oh! My God- I'm coming!” and at the same instant the countess directed the blows upward between the well-parted legs, bringing the tips of the lashes well into the exposed cunny of the other in a series of well-aimed blows!
Nor was that the end of the performance. At the same instant that the girl went off, the countess stiffened, grasped her breasts and squeezed them, uttering a low moan then she went off too! It was too much for my torn nerves! I felt my crisis arriving! Clutching the head of the girl between my legs and pressing it tightly to me, I allowed the floodgate to open, bedewing the javelin-like tongue with what I supposed was the most abundant spend I had ever let down, the shock of which almost caused me to faint!
Indeed, it was some moments before I was able to again direct my attention to the other room, and here I found the picture changed. The girl had been released and was kneeling before the countess, who sat-or partly lay-on the divan. Her thighs were well parted, one of which hung over the other's neck while Molly toyed with and kissed the wide open, glistening box of her mistress!
More calm now, I drew the girl up beside me. “Tell me,” I said, “does the countess do the same as she is
