that estate whose location it would be imprudent of me to name in this letter. In a few weeks time, expect to receive further instructions. A certain elegant steam-yacht is to be chartered to take you and your chosen girls on a cruise of the Sussex coast. Do not be alarmed when it puts about, heading out to sea and making for those warmer climes!
Now, you know Lord Fred and I better than to imagine that we have been sitting here in the Villa Anna with long faces and anxious thoughts. All has been arranged! Let us be merry! And so we have been.
Lord Fred is attended by his two servants, Karl and Otto, strapping gentlemen of thirty-five or so. I could not bear to leave my dear villa-which is now to be sold-without some little celebration. It is so delightful here in August, the warm sun on the placid lake, the towers and battlements of imperial castles among the trees of the far shore. The Crown Prince himself has not been able to bear leaving his charming lodge this year. So Lord Frederick and I planned a celebration. It was to be a final and stupendous orgy before my departure from the Villa Anna. What should we do? We chose and rejected until it seemed that we had exhausted the possibilities. Then Lord Fred smiled. “Let us arrange a honeymoon-night, Dolly. Let it be for Sonja and Petra. Sonja renounced the penis some time ago.
Petra has rarely had one. Let us have a nuptial night in which they are the brides and my two strapping fellows the grooms. We shall require Julia and Natasha to be the brides' attendants, opening the way into the cunts for the pricks, parting the brides' arse-halves for the tools. Only think, Dolly, how greatly it will add to the education of those two young pupils as well. And, best of all, let us insist that the night of honeymoon passion takes place under our eyes and that we enjoy the sight of everything which transpires.” I saw at once, Jack, that this was the celebration we needed. Though Sonja is twenty-two and has had a man between her legs, she has never been properly broken in to the prick. Petra has had no more than a casual fuck or two in the course of her eighteen years. Karl and Otto are fine fellows and remarkably well-hung. They are not men to be put off by girlish protests or maiden squeals, when they know that these are intended only to urge them on. We laid our plan for last night, informing the girls in the morning of what would be expected of them.
You may easily believe that we had no difficulty in persuading Karl and Otto to play the part of lusty bridegrooms. Lord Frederick insisted that the two attendants, Natasha and Julia, must also undergo a certain amount of stripping. He took them into his room and undressed them with his own hands until they wore only the skimpy white dress of breast-halters, tight-fitting briefs and ankle-socks.
Two of my stalwart maids took Sonja and Petra into their attiring-room. They speedily undressed twenty- two-year-old Sonja first, removing her short turquoise skirt, pink blouse and white ankle-boots. They brushed her shock of dark curls and smiled at the round wonderment of her sun-browned face and blue eyes. Sonja's lithe and trimly-muscled young body has been toasted golden brown by her bathing in the sun. To contrast its warmth, they dressed her in white translucent silk. A short bodice fitted tightly over her upper parts, with breast-cups through which one could see the pink cherries of her tits. They selected as Sonja's panties a pair of tight slinky briefs in the same translucent white silk. Her honeymoon dress consisted of a skirt of white silk in the simplest design. It had two tails of cloth, one hanging down at the front and the other behind her, each dangling separately from the waist-belt. Natasha, our little blonde in the schoolgirl knickers, would bear the train, holding it so that Sonja's bare brown legs and the tight silk panties were seen as she walked. Sonja surrendered herself to all this with some looks of apprehension but without offering resistance. Of the two girls who were to enjoy a night of impalement, it was she who was the more amenable. Even in the photographer's establishment, it was Sonja who served the customers with a willing smile, while Petra did her duty with a more surly and impatient air. The difference between them was no less evident now. It was time for the two stalwart women to come for eighteen-year-old Petra with shoulder length flaxen hair and slim sun-browned body. The somewhat harder features of Petra's fair- skinned face enabled her to put on a more rebellious and resentful air than Sonja had done. Now whoever heard of such a thing on a honeymoon night? It was enough for the two women to lead Petra past the saddlery room, to show her the training-whips while they patted the seat of her blue denim skirt significantly, to fondle the little steel marker so conveniently easy to heat in the brazier coals. A finger tickling between the slim cheeks of Petra's bottom or slender thighs left no doubt of the intended destination. So it was, with a true bride's reluctance at first, that Petra submitted to her costuming. They stripped off the young blonde's singlet and her denim skirt, her panties and other clothes. She was dressed as Sonja had been-with one exception. Do you recall, Jack, how the romancer sans pareil, the author of Mademoiselle de Maupin talks of silk and skin? The great man is adamant that blond beauty requires black silk.
Accordingly, Petra was to be dressed in tight translucent bodice of thin black silk, her paler beauty visible through it. By contrast with her more lightly sunkissed waist and thighs, black panties smoothly encased Petra's arse-cheeks and loins. Our young pupil Julia was to bear her train, the elder schoolgirl attending the younger bride with little more than two years between them. Julia, of course, still cultivates her spiky crop of dark hair whose shortness appears to give a fuller and rounder look to her rather foolish young face. To begin the evenings festivities a fine dinner was served on the terrace of the villa, where it looks upon the Italianate gardens and the lake.
To show their submissive natures the two brides were required to act as our waitresses, where Lord Fred and I, as well as Karl and Otto, took our places. I need not tell you, dear Jack, what a splendid feast it was. There were the most succulent melon slices, the most fragrantly spiced pate, followed by smoked salmon and roast fowl, the choicest vegetables cooked al dente, and luscious hot-house grapes.
The wines were iced hock to begin with and warm claret to continue.
All this was rounded off by coffee and liqueurs. The table was so arranged that Sonja and Petra had often to bend across to reach the guest they served. Many a time did Lord Fred lift the train, revealing as it might be the saucy round cheeks of Sonja's bottom in the tight sheen of silk briefs. Smack, went his lordship's hand on the silken white cheek. And smack again before the gasping girl could recover her poise. Eighteen-year-old Petra endured the same frequent indignity, though her fair-skinned face and blue eyes showed a greater anger than Sonja's. At last the meal was done and the two honeymoon brides were led to the boudoir overlooking the lake. By new only the last golden streaks of sun lingered in the western sky and the cypress trees stood black against the moon-glittering water. Julia and Natasha took up their places behind Petra and Sonja. Each of the high-school pupils raised the rear train of her young lady. Thus the four of us admired the tightened silk seats of their panties and the elegant squirming of their bare legs as they walked. The scene in the boudoir itself was most diverting. Two beds had been set side by side with only a narrow gap dividing them. By now the lamps of the electrolier shone On the silk covers and bedroom tapestries. At the feet of the beds two comfortable leather chairs on a raised platform had been arranged for Lord Frederick and I. We were to sit there like a pair of tyrants upon our thrones and look down on the sports of the honeymoon beds at our feet. Before the two sturdy serving women withdrew they helped Sonja and Petra to make their last submission.
Each girl allowed her wrists to be strapped together and fastened by a short chain to a collar round her neck. As the two women left they spoke quietly to Petra again, reminding her of the finely tapered whips in the saddlery room and the ingenious little markers which could soon be heated to glowing intensity in the brazier.
Twenty-two-year-old Sonja was to be the first slave-wife of Karl.
Natasha was to attend her and already the prim little blonde's puppy cheeks were colouring a little at the thought of what she had to do.
The grooms made Sonja lie on her back, the dark curls of her head on the pillow. They undid and removed the split skirt of her costume, reducing it to bodice and panties. Natasha blushed a little more deeply. She bowed the fringe of-her blond hair to hide her confusion and showed only the charming little tail of her chignon. Yet she knew better than to disobey. Moistening her fingers on her tongue, she contoured the peaks of Sonja's trim young breasts until the nipples stood hard and tight in the thin white silk. Still with her face blushing a little, Natasha now folded Sonja's knees up so that they almost touched the patient's chin. The tight gusset of the white silk panties was but a mere strip between the spread of Sonja's lithe and suntanned thighs. Sonja's dark pussy-hair was mistily visible through the taut thin silk. With light, inexpert caresses, Natasha began to stroke her there. Those of us who looked on laughed at the little blonde's inexperience, for she made a charming sight.
“Make love to Sonja properly, Natasha! Not just there, my pet.
That's where Sonja's little fountain-hole is. Further on. If you tickle the wrong place, you'll make Sonja drench herself.”
Natasha soon found the right place, by Sonja's shivers and whimpers of pleasure. “That's better, my love,” said Lord Fred to the youngster, “Now wank Sonja gently until you feel the silk of her panties slippery with her
