quivers and tries to pull away, he holds the furry little creature, stroking and calming it. As Jack describes it, a young bitch who has just whelped on the sly is most unlikely to have a true aversion for such fondling. The tears of shame which Janet seemed about to shed do not fall. Instead she allows her cunt to weep copiously into the man's hand. A courgette, an amusing little vegetable, six inches long and smoothly round in proportion, is introduced. Despite herself, Janet's hips begin to move. She is such a timid, wide-eyed innocent-but still she cannot get enough of this sort of thing. To keep her on the qui vive, the man stops short of Janet's climax, in order that she may come off the boil. Now she would almost weep to have the baby cucumber replaced but they will leave her to cool for half an hour. All the same, she need not be without occupation. The other man pulls the hem of the brown jerkin well up above the pale sheen of the girl's plump hips.
Janet turns suddenly, such frightened prettiness in the soft young face and eyes. The dark fringe of the helmet-shaped cut is parted on her forehead, which adds to this impression of timidity. The two men are studying the pale fattened cheeks of Janet's bottom and the tight dark hole between. They confer and begin to tease the girl.
Janet is frantic at their proposal, trying vainly to break free from the stool. Now the second man takes the nursling cucumber. Its narrower end presses between the pale plumpness of Janet's buttocks, demanding entrance at her postern gate. In a fright, she tightens against it. The other man intervenes, holding the broad leather of the punishment strap. With savage energy and visible enjoyment, he brings the school strap down across the pale quivering cheeks of Janet Bond's bottom. Again and again the strokes ring out, accompanied by the girl's wild shrillness. Bright crimson paths cross her backside, this way and that, before he lays down the leather. Now the rounded tip demands entrance again. There is a brief tightening against it, a thrust, a cry and then a forlorn yielding. Smilingly the man with the strap holds Janet's hips still and knowingly chides her for such a fuss about such a little thing. His companion works the impertinent vegetable in and out, keeping Janet's anus well stretched about its rim. In the discomfort or excitement of this, the girl gives tense little gasps and holds herself almost rigidly over the stool, as if in fear that the least movement against her ravisher will cause havoc in her bottom. So the well-greased vegetable sodomises Miss Janet.
With the consternation growing in her pert young face, there occurs one of those incidents which are both alarming and yet irresistibly comic. The man who plies the fledgling cucumber between the girl's plump well- spread buttocks becomes more vigorous. Having admired the cameos of her labouring like a young mare between the shafts as she pushed the pram, and now having her presented in this posture, it is understandable that he should wish to exercise Janet Bond's arsehole vigorously. Then, in a moment of distraction, he goes too far.
Pressing up hard, he loses touch with the courgette, which passes entirely into her guts, Janet's anus closing over it. Here, as they say, is a pretty kettle of fish! How to extract it? The fatter rounded end, over which the tight hole has closed, is the larger and more difficult to expel. Yet it must come first. Twenty-year-old Janet is frantic, as you may tell from the dismay in her brown eyes, the flared nostrils of her pretty nose, and her mouth open in a wild gasp.
The two villains who are having fun with her look quite taken aback for a moment. But soon they are exchanging smiles and seem hardly able to control their mirth. The predicament in which Janet finds herself is entirely her problem, for she is a slave-girl. No surgeon is on hand to perform an act of assistance. If the courgette is truly irremovable, there is only one thing left for Miss Janet. One rather imagines that these two fellows would enjoy doing it. Yet as we sit and watch the farce, do you not think the men envisage Jack's displeasure at returning and finding that Janet has had to make her exit? Already, you see, they are urging her to expel the intruder. She will not do so, of course, without an ordeal. Indeed, it may be impossible for her. Is it the monstrous discomfort which prevents her or merely a tensing of her body at the thought of performing such an act in front-of them? The men are implacable. They order her to give birth to the insolent object. Do you see Janet's young belly tensing, her rump thrust out hard and her rear muscle swelling a little like a bud? All to no avail. One of the men laughs at her and turns to the other. “The young prude needs a little stimulation, I think.” Could one disagree? Yet what has he in mind? He picks up a three-foot length of sash-cord and takes the two ends in his hand. The loop of heavy cord dangling from his grip now makes an improvised lash. His mouth in a thin cruel line, he brings it down in a vicious stroke across the plump pale cheeks of poor Janet's bottom.
His companion takes another length and they thrash from opposite sides with alternate strokes. Laughingly the two men order her not to keep them waiting. Janet's buttocks are soon emblazoned with loops and curlicues of whipcord. Here and there a rosy trickle wanders from the end of a stripe. The minutes pass and still the two men are implacable. A moment to ply Janet with smelling salts, then the measured whipping again. Under the pretty top-knot of dark hair, her brown eyes wide with consternation meet the men's smiles. They run the cord through their fingers to let her see it. “Don't keep us waiting, Janet. Still so bashful? Very well!” Janet's belly is tense, her hips straining as she is whipped. The green cucumber tip peeps out, is withdrawn, then surges out and falls to the ground.
Maddened by the whips, Janet yields all. But as she lies over the stool, running with the sweat of labour, her eyes avoid the men's smiles. Her plump buttocks are bright crimson. The smiles grow broader, for a fugitive rudeness swells through the rear loophole to lie in a limp curve down one fattened cheek of Janet Bond's bottom.
After this tragi-comedy, you may well decide to escort your three girls to the sumptuous boudoir with its capacious bed. In the warmth of this climate we sleep upon the silk covers rather than under them.
Do you approve of the room with its pink-shaded brass lamps, its panels of silk and carved wood? I scarcely think you will need more inspiration. Should you do so, you will find some racy volumes on the shelf by the bed. You may read of the lovely Eveline or the rascal Captain DeVane. There is Colonel Spanker who fustigates Julie or the learned gentleman, before an audience, first applies vaseline and penis, then a whip, to proud Lesley Hollingsworth's bare bottom-cheeks. Or you may read of a cheeky imp like Sally Fenton sucking the prick, and a lover's stiffness stretching Tania Nicoll's arsehole. Let the choice be yours, if make it you must. Yet what need will you have of books and learning when you watch your three shapely companions undressing? See, there is Natasha, slipping off her navy-blue skirt and the white stretched briefs of high school knickers. Noreen strips with many a contemptuous flick of her dark fringe and lank hair. When her clothes come off, she is quite naked except for the restraint of strapping on her pale statuesque body.
Stout black leather bonds form wrist-cuffs and anklets, collar and waist-belt. With this defiant and strongly built girl of nineteen, such precautions may be necessary. Order these two assistants to the bed.. Noreen in her straps. Natasha bare from the waist down, wearing her striped tie, white blouse, and green jumper with blue piping, as if this may provoke you more strongly. Let your slim and suntanned Swedish blonde, Helena, shrug off her black jacket. Now stand behind her, kiss the pretty ears and charming neck as you brush back the short silky fall of hair. Feel her pert sixteen-year-old bubbies as you pull up her white singlet and ease it off over her head. “Play with those little nipples, Helena. Keep them nice and stiff. You must learn to excite yourself, my pet.” She obeys uncertainly, though it is quite evident that she has been playing with herself in various ways since she was twelve or thirteen. Kiss the silken sweep of her pale hair and look over her shoulder at her mirrored face. Does your manhood not stiffen a little at the sight of the proud high-boned young beauty under the blond fringe? Undo the leather belt at her waist and kneel down behind her as you draw the tight white jeans down her slim, suntanned thighs. Her panties are inside them and come off as well. Will you take the example of Janet's admirers and tuck Helena Thelen's knickers in your pocket as a trophy of the chase? You cause Helena a little confusion now as you kiss the backs of her light-tanned silken thighs. Do your lips feel one or two sweet little tendrils of cunt-hair emerging from the rear of her tightly-pressed legs? A little higher and you kiss the smooth, cool ovals of Helena's arse-cheeks. You make her turn and browse over her taut young belly and mossy loins with your kisses. “Now lie on the bed Helena. At once! With Noreen and Natasha. A show of reluctance, Helena? Must you have a taste of the whip first? That's better. Don't hold your hand behind you when you walk, Helena. Show how your backside moves.” Having unbuttoned yourself and undressed, you follow your young inamorata. On the way, however, you take the short leather lash of the dog-whip from the drawer and lay it by the pillow where the three girls can see it. Natasha knows her job, of course. The pert little blonde with the chignon and charming fringe is to devote her lips and fingers to your prick all night. When not sheathed in your young nymph's cunt-or in Helena's bottom-your member will receive this prim young penis-teaser's constant attention.
Do not be deceived by her juvenile pretensions. Natasha is a completely depraved little immoraliste. Noreen on the other hand is best employed lying on her back to offer her bare belly as your arm-rest, or lying face down to let you use the broad pale cheeks of her arse as your pillow. Ordering Helena to turn on to her back and hug
