Editor's Note: No sooner does one curtain descend than another rises! Here a quite extraordinary event takes place, which is about to explain itself. Suffice to say that the writer of the following is the guardian of the young Miss to whom Sylvia last wrote, and that the addressee is none other than Sylvia's Papa.
Dear Dick, I have some most extraordinary news to convey which I trust may not come as too great a shock to you. I recall your mentioning to me some weeks ago that Sylvia is at a finishing school near Paris, and one that had been highly recommended to you. I fear, dear fellow, that all is not as it seemed and that your informant was either naive or badly informed. You will wonder much at this opening remark which I dread to think may carry overtones of impertinence on my part. Permit me therefore to say immediately that a letter has come to light in the possession of my ward, Alison, which has caused me the deepest shock. I do not, of course, normally venture into her room, but had cause to do so yesterday in search of a book she had borrowed (quite properly) from my library. Alison being out, I made a tentative search about her writing desk-not wishing, I must add, to pry-and could not but help let my eyes fall upon a letter which lay carelessly open and which your daughter had addressed to her. I have to tell you that I read with total disbelief that letters contents and can excuse myself only by saying that since both Sylvia and Alison are under the age of consent, one should know a little of what they are about. I have to convey to you, then, the awful news that the Principal of the establishment, to which you in all innocence sent your daughter, is a total wanton and so encourages her girls to be! I fear that you may think me utterly deranged in saying such, yet I swear that this is so, for the manner in which the letter was written- the language used therein (of which I still blush to think), and the acts described have proved almost beyond belief to me! Dear fellow, I know from all our past acquaintance that this will come as a terrible shock to you. I think it best that Alison does not know of my discovery as yet, for she might then hasten to write to Sylvia and beg her to disavow its contents. Hence I cannot send it to you, but would suggest rather that we meet at some early and mutually convenient moment to discuss the import of all this.
Your faithful friend Horace
Dearest Caroline, I am sending this to you posthaste by messenger in the hope that you will be able by some means to make contact with me as soon as possible, for I must reply to the enclosed within the next two days at least, or that dreadful Horace Emmerfield (whom you know but vaguely, and would hardly wish to know otherwise) may dip his nose even deeper into affairs. It will be simple enough for me, of course, to protest innocence of what goes on at the establishment, but therewith I would be put to bringing Sylvia back in order to save face, the which I am sure would not please her, for the tone of her recent letters to me has well enough indicated that she is enjoying herself in whatever wise. As a confidante of Madam's, you are best placed to advise me, though heaven knows what you can say! Of course, the letter to which Horace refers may be much more innocent than he would have me believe, but Sylvia is such a jolly girl that I do not doubt her occasional indiscretions. Quite frankly, as you know, I do not mind what she does so long as she enjoys herself, and it was in the spirit of such remarks on my part that you advised me to send her to St.
Germain-en-Laye, for having no Mama she must have someone else to guide her, as you averred. What are your thoughts, if any, upon all this-and how should I act in the matter? I pray for your early reply!
Your loving Dick
My dearest Dick, Do not fret yourself! I have never hid from you the fact that Julie's methods of tuition are of a most unconventional nature and that she prepares her girls for the world in such wise as would indeed shock the silly Horace. What a bore the man must be! Others, surely, would have never blazoned the matter to others, but might well have looked forward to secretly reading other intelligence from your lovely daughter! If she has been frank therein, then she has been frank. What else is to say? This does not, however, solve your present dilemma to which I have given much thought. I propose therefore a step which in the face of it will seem unusual but is in fact perfectly logical.
I suggest that you read Sylvia's letter with as little comment as possible. Let Horace not have the victory of seeing you shocked-if shocked you are indeed to be. Maintain your composure, but at the same time have a firm look about you and declare that you will hie forthwith to St. Germain-en-Laye and that you wish Horace to accompany you in order that he may be disabused as to Julie's actual practices.
Should he protest too much that Sylvia should be torn from her clutches, and that his ward must not continue to be influenced by her, reply as staidly as you can that such things as might be contained in Sylvia's letter are often written in high spirits and imbued with much imagination. Insist that Alison herself learns the truth by accompanying you both! Are you taken aback by my advice? My goodness, darling, do not be. You will take much pleasure from your visit. Of this I assure you, for I have spent a few days there myself-not in pursuit of learning, my dear (you of all people surely would not think I needed that!), but to amuse and instruct myself as to Madam's methods. They are highly unusual, quite delightful, and thoroughly productive! Yes, they are saucy, too, if one may employ a coy term. There are several girls there who will quite enchant you and may even melt the icy heart of Horace Emmerfield! To action then, as I do suggest. You will not rue the day! I look forward to hearing from you on your return.
Your loving Caroline
Editor's note: A quick fluster of action followed this missive as Caroline (about whom, alas, we know little as yet) hastened to follow it up within the hour by another. In order to avoid repeating certain matters which the foregoing will have already conveyed to the reader, I have truncated her letter as necessary.
Dearest Julie,… And so Dick is probably to visit you very shortly in company with (I do hope) Alison and her quite boring guardian. I am quite sure that Dick will follow my advice, for he will not only be pleased to see his daughter again, but will need as well to have his curiosity satisfied. “Only his curiosity?” I hear you laugh, and so leave matters to you in the knowledge that you and Sylvia are at least forewarned and may prepare yourselves for whatever you intend, demure or otherwise. Whatever comes of this, you will at the least have to be at your most ingenious, and in this you have no peer. If Sylvia has written the very naughty letter that I feel sure she has, then her bottom will have to be warmed- but comforted afterwards! What Dick will have to say to me on his return, I cannot imagine. I do trust you therefore to keep me well-informed! In haste.
Your ever-admiring Caroline
Editor's Note: A week passed before Caroline received the following reply, and one that was entirely in the spirit of what she had hoped to hear.
Ma Chere Caroline, What a conundrum you set me-or rather Mr. Emmerfield did set us all. You may be sure that first of all I birched naughty Sylvia for her indiscretions-she confessing all that she had written to Alison. The latter, by the way, is utterly charming and proved almost as well prepared for mischief as she might have done even with my tuition. She is comely, slender, and has a perfectly lickable pair of titties, to say nothing of the rondeurs of her derriere. I am sure that this visit proved a tonic for her since she has otherwise been much frustrated by her guardian. Upon my advising Sylvia that her Papa was arriving, she of course threw into quite a dither, for clearly while the dear man vaguely thought of us all as having “jolly times” here, he did not envisage it as clearly as he might have done, and perhaps even wished to pretend to himself that it was a little other than what he thought. Though what he thought I do not know! In any event, he knows now much more than he did and is far from being displeased thereby. “I cannot face him!” flustered Sylvia. As to that, I told her that she might claim to be incommoded and keep to her dormitory, though I did not advise it, for such action would seem suspicious. “What can I then do?” she asked with all seeming motions of despair, it then becoming her moment to confess to me the entire contents of her letter wherein she had mentioned her uncle who of course is her late Mama's brother. What a contretemps! I would if necessary, I told her, endeavour to convince her Papa that many girls in the first flush of desire were given to daydreams of this nature. “Will you be believed?” she asked somewhat pertly, while still wriggling her bottom, which I had but ten minutes before attended to. “As to that, who knows?” I answered, a little put out by her question, I confess, though seeing some merit in it.
“If he does not?” she asked timidly. “Then, my pet, there is no path to follow but the one upon which I have already set your pretty feet,” I told her, which caused her to blush and gaze down into the carpet. “At the worst, my pet, your Papa can only birch you-which you do not now mind overmuch,” I said mischievously. “And at the best, Madam?” Was that a true question, I wondered, or was it that she did not know what to ask. “I have already answered that, my pet,” said I, expecting her (foolhardily!) to blush, but instead she took a set look on her face. “Then I would have to go back,” Sylvia said after a moments contemplation on her part, “And all will be known,” she added quickly. This being a conundrum I could not solve for her, I produced my trump card. “Monica is returning home this week. She might do so in company with your Papa,” I said idly and waited for Sylvia's mind to work as quickly as I hoped it might. Quite obviously she knows Monica, well enough, and many delicious hours have we known!
She is twenty-five, svelte, and supremely erotic when she wishes to be. All this Sylvia also knows for they have played licky-lick at each others pussy several times. Seeing the twinkle in my eye, she laughed.
“Monica will divert Papa, you mean?” Sylvia asked. “More than that, he will know that you know, and that will make you even and so smooth your path completely henceforth when you are back.” Sylvia giggled. “Yes, it will, won't it,” she replied and looked just like a cat does at a bowl of cream. In one fell stroke, as I felt, I had solved the situation, for what Mr. Emmerfield did or said was of no matter to me. What of Alison, you will ask? My dear, I mean to put that matter bluntly. Once having been introduced to her, I summed her up as quickly as you would have done yourself-and intended to have her well-fucked during her brief stay. Sylvia's Papa, having had much time to cast eyes on the girl by then, showed as many signs as men do of imminent desire, but it would not do for her mortar to be put to his pestle only. However, I will come to that in a moment. Upon the arrival of the trio, all was utterly quiet and sedate within the establishment. The surprise of the two gentlemen at this showed on their faces. I diverted Alison by introducing her to Monica-which I felt appropriate to the situation, for they would have much to talk about eventually! This permitted me to entertain the men in my little drawing room. I listened to their tale, read the letter that Sylvia had written, made no immediate comment and poured them each some wine.
It was, I should say, a very particular brew-they not observing that I myself drank from a different bottle! I began then my little speech about the fantasies of young girls. I spoke slowly and bided my time. Even as I did I observed a slightly choleric look on both their faces, for the aphrodisiac that I had mingled in their bottle before their arrival had begun to take effect. Though they took embarrassed pains to try to do so, neither could fully hide the fact that-seated before me as they were-their erections made themselves extremely prominent by thrusting up the fronts of their trousers.
“Gentlemen also entertain fancies about young girls,” I then said, making it evident by the paths of my eyes and my tone of voice that I had missed nothing of their helplessly Priapic display. My little plot having been well planned-and Sylvia herself knew not all the details-a knock sounded and Blanche entered, attired exactly as she had been for M. Delfond some weeks before, which is to say in a diaphanous robe, black stockings, drawers and shoes. Her drawers were perfectly visible through her robe and hence she displayed herself as enticingly as any well-curved maiden might. Upon seeing the gentlemen, she came to a halt and feigned great surprise, stammering out some excuse for interrupting me and feigning not to have known of their presence. In thus pausing, the folds of her robe floated open to her waist, bringing to view even more clearly the lustrous gleaming of her thighs between the puckered legs of her knickers and her ridging stocking tops. “Did you have an urgent message for me, Blanche?”
I enquired and beckoned her forward. She came with seeming timorousness, planting herself (as we had arranged beforehand) between myself and the visitors, so that as she bent to whisper in my ear, so her tightly-sheathed bottom was offered up most prominently to them. I could hear indeed the slightly raucous sound of their breathing above her whispering, which was a mere hissing in my ears, for in truth she had nothing to say. I clutched her arm as she spoke and thus gently kept her luscious young rear facing them. “Very well, Blanche, of course you may,” I then said and let her rise. Most prettily, she then pretended confusion to have the two pairs of male eyes so close upon her most intimate parts. Her titties were entirely naked beneath the gauze of her light covering and so displayed their nipples and surrounding aureoles proudly. She emitted a giggle-one of exactly the right tone-as though to chide them for their “naughtiness.” Her perfume lingered after she had gone. Each turned in his chair to watch her passage, and to watch the slight jiggling of her bottom cheeks, which, though they could not be described as over-large, are of a pleasing size for her age and provide two delicious handfuls.
“You appear hot, gentlemen. It is the climate here. Please do set yourselves at ease. Remove your jackets and cravats,” I murmured, gazing even more directly at their prominences, for each was in a devil of an erotic state by then. “The attire in which you have just seen Blanche is worn purely for physical exercises here. I encourage them. Girls should be supple in the hips, should they not? Sylvia wears such and looks perfectly lovely. So would Alison, were she to stay here,” I added slyly. A greater boldness was about me then, Caroline. Such details as in their hazy state they would remember from the letter would but serve to add to their unexpected state of excitement. In disposing of their jackets, they could no longer conceal their condition. By purposefully eyeing both, I made certain not to conceal my seeming admiration for their virile states.
“Let us be frank, Messieurs. It is by no means unusual for gentlemen such as yourselves to experience a state of arousal when finding themselves cloistered with so many adorable girls. As for my pupils themselves, they too experience all sorts of fancy desires when shielded as they are from male company. Hence Sylvia's letter, which, I must admit, I found not entirely unexciting. Did you not?” I asked, addressing myself to Horace. In so speaking, I rose and brushed myself as though by accident against the rigid pole in Horace's trousers. He blushed profusely. “Ah, yes!” he gasped as though possessed.
“Then so be it,” I declared, “for I see you are both in a fine state to refresh at least two of my beauties.” Sounds emitted themselves from both their throats which might best be described as gargles. Their minds had been all but fully taken over by the swelling of their balls and the maddened state of their pricks. Smiling my assent at both, I went to the door and beckoned those who waited. From an adjoining room along the corridor came Alison, attired as had been Blanche, save for the fact that she wore no drawers. Being a shade tallish she looked to my own faintly disturbed eyes (for you know, dear Caroline, what a penchant I have for nubile maidens, just as you have too) like a veritable Princess. Her proud tits bounced, their nipples fiercely erect. Guided along by Monica and Blanche, the eyes of Alison looked clouded, as indeed they might, for during all that had taken place in my drawing room, the sweet girl had been caressed and feather-tickled to distraction, having been cajoled to this by Sylvia herself. Tight frilly garters banded the sleek tops of her stockings. Her boots-knee-high-were of a fancy variety with gold inlaid into the fine scrolls that decorated them. With each step she took and with every parting of her robe, the dark bush of her quim showed itself plump and proud. And-I have no doubt-expectant!
Alison's now vibrant curves literally quivered as I stepped outside briefly and enfolded her in my arms, palpitating the tight half-moons of her naked bottom. “You will do your duty, my love, for the sake of us all- and for that of your own future,” said I. She swayed against me and uttered some soft sound that had no outward meaning save to show that she was by then submissively desirous, for so skillful had her “attendants” been that they had time and again brought her to the point of liquid delight and then on each occasion left her yearning for fulfillment so that her whole body was ablaze.
She was-as might be put- cock-ready. Taking her arm, I led her in and held her with her wrists lightly behind her back so that she was made to face her guardian and Sylvia's Papa. In such relatively small interval as they had had, each had stripped quickly to his shirt and showed his penis proud. At the sight of his ward-her titties, belly, bush, all bared-the face of her guardian became even more rubicund. A low moan issued from Alison. Her head sank back on to my shoulder. “You have not seen her before thus?” I mocked Horace.
Utterly beside himself with lust, he stepped forward. “Give… give her to me,” he gritted. I laughed. I could not help myself. The scene was utterly bizarre and yet with the help of my friendly aphrodisiac could easily be repeated with others and in other circumstances. “You shall have her. Your cock may work back and forth in her cunny until you have both come. Thereafter she will be your mistress and share your fortune. That is understood? Remember that I am witness to this.” “No!” moaned Alison softly, though without too much conviction. After all the delicious caresses that had been afforded her with tongues and fingers and feathers, she would come at the first touch of his knob to her lovelips. “It shall be as I say, Alison. You will benefit in future each time you lower your drawers to him-and that entirely at your own discretion. Come, lie on the couch and spread your legs. Be bold and wriggle your bottom well.”
“I must, I must…” she began even as I gently steered her there. She intended, I swear, to utter, “I must not.” Her rogue of a guardian, however, gave her no time to conclude her faint protest. All but thrusting me aside as we neared the brocaded edge of the sofa, he was upon her. A low cry came from Alison. In falling, her legs opened and raised themselves. Such lovely long legs they are as well-as I would have wished you to see! A distinct smacking sound of their bodies meeting echoed in the room. With a growl of desire he was between her thighs. Her lovelips, moist and petulant, appeared to open like the petals of a rose to the helmet of his charger, which, being so fearsomely stiff, needed no guiding in. The succulent mouth received his swollen knob. Alison's arms flailed. Her limbs remained open in a wide Vee as she received the sturdy plunging of his enraged penis between the silken walls of her slit. So well prepared had she been for such endeavour that it appeared to take but two seconds for his erection to sheathe itself completely. Her hands clawed the air and then settled on his broad back. Her fingernails dug into his shirt, impressing themselves sharply, as I felt, into his skin beneath. “My god!” he choked. “Mooo-hoooo!” Alison moaned and bucked her bottom as though to swallow into her honeypot the last half inch of his throbbing tube. So frenzied was he that Horace forgot even to kiss her and nibbled passionately at one ear-lobe as her quim tightened on him and expended its first juices. “HAAAR!” Alison shuddered and knotted her calves up over the hips of her unexpected stallion. Their loins heaved madly. A distinct squelching sound was heard! All this, as I say, taking place in but a few blinkings of the eyes, I felt a groping at my bottom and turned about from the enlaced, heaving pair just in time to prevent Sylvia's father from hauling up my skirt. As though defensively, I seized his rampant prick and felt its mighty throbbing in my palm. “M… M… Madame!
Permit me!” he groaned, whereat, on a perfect cue (Blanche having been listening at the door), the room was invaded of a sudden by Sylvia, who had no doubt needed to have been urged and thrust within. She, too, wore a floating robe, her stockings, bootees, and no drawers. The door slammed behind her so that she fell against it and gaped with seeming wildness at what she saw. Utterly closed off from the world by their unbidden passion, Alison and her guardian bucked and thrust and threshed in a perfect harmony of aroused desire. Had the roof fallen in they would not have noticed it. His balls slapped against the underside of her bottom, which reared to him at every urging-in of his pego. Their mouths were locked. Their tongues worked.
Still grasping the equally entranced member of Sylvia's Papa, I gazed at her as if in surprise at this interruption. The sight of what I was holding appeared too much for her. She swayed back and forth even as he croaked out her name in whatever anguish he then felt, whether it were of lust or dismay. “Oh, Papa!” uttered Sylvia and slumped slowly to the floor. To all intents and purposes, she had fainted, and swore afterwards that she did, but I believed her not.
Her head bumped a trifle on the carpet and then she lay still, legs parted just enough for him to see the crown of her glory with its bush of curls and saucily peeping lips. “S… s… syl-vee-aaah!” he moaned. Her eyes distinctly opened, for she lay some six feet from him and, in her prone position, had a very superior view indeed of the size and rigidity of his tool, which I managed to display to her as much as possible with the purplish head of his cock nuzzling out from the side of my clasping hand. A slight movement of my palm beneath the veined surface of his penis and he began to come. His knees sagged, as did his jaw. His come arced thickly into the air, noble and glutinaceous in its passage, directing its passage towards Sylvia's neatly-shod feet, though of course it did not reach them but plopped down on the intervening surface, to be followed immediately by another and another-all the while his thick pego pulsing madly in my hand as it discharged its first load. Half behind me then, a bellow sounded from Horace as he in turn performed the climax of his first major duty in respect of Alison, who-by a quick glance over my shoulder-was, I saw, still clinging beneath him blindly and seesawing her bottom to his spurting thrusts. “Blanche!” I called out sharply while yet the thick drops continued to pearl from the prick of Sylvia's Papa. Blanche entered and, appearing dismayed at the prone form of her friend, bent her knees and raised and shook her so that Sylvia's eyes opened wide again and she and her sire stared at one another as if in a trance. Then, stumbling to her feet and being much assisted, she was led out. Horace had come fully and was prone upon his ward. Her cunny frothed its pleasure around the half-embedded shaft that now grew limp but would not so remain for long. Sylvia's father, loosed from my admittedly guiding hand, tottered backwards and sank into a chair. A sniffling and snuffling sound came from the pair on the couch. The insides of Alison's thighs moved sleekly and encouragingly against the tree-trunks of his own. I could not see her face, which was hidden by his own. A throaty murmur came from him. I heard her whisper “Yes.” His buttocks tightened, his loins twitched.
His ramrod, seemingly released with reluctance from the spongy grip of her slit, appeared almost to the knob and then sank in again. Another choked “Yes!” from Alison. He snorted. He began to drive the peg anew.
My heavens, what pent-up passion was evident, dear Caroline! From behind me in my watchful and unwary state, a hand again groped my bottom. I would have ceded then to Sylvia's Papa, but you know how I ever put the pleasures of my pupils first. I drew away from him and shook my head. His pego was in turn showing all signs of revival-a condition of virility that must have astonished him himself! I motioned to Alison, who was again clawing at Horace's back. It was she who was to receive their benedictions, and indeed did. Sylvia's Papa fared as well on her as had her guardian. Having been pumped thrice, the dear girl slept. The culprits put their trousers on and looked bemused. Putting my fingers to my lips so as to indicate that Alison must not be awoken, I poured them each another glass of wine. A thirst was upon them. Being innocent of the little devil that lurked in the fine vintage, they drank eagerly-each glancing at one another with fierce pride, would you believe! “You may be free to leave your trousers unbuttoned at the front, gentlemen. Blanche will come in shortly and escort you to another room so that Alison may sleep her peace. You, sir, will not forget your promise to her,” I said, addressing Horace. The rude knob of his ready penis poked already in a fine state from the gap in his nether garments. Flushed with glory, he assented to my words and promised to lavish all on her that she desired. “Excellent. Then you may now both refresh another,” I responded-at which Blanche entered and escorted them forth. Dear Caroline, I shall not tell you who the second young Venus was. You will have to guess. By morning, Sylvia had decided-wisely enough as I felt-that she would make up the returning quartet rather than Monica, who (poor thing) had had no fun at all. “It is a wise decision,”
I told Sylvia gravely, “for Monica…” I deliberately left the sentence unfinished. “Oh yes, I know well enough what she would do,” replied Sylvia pertly, and looked most pretty in a new blue dress that she had saved for her return. The affair of the letter was of course totally forgotten and not to be spoken of. Who was to speak of mere words when such deeds of amourous valour had been accomplished? I waved all four off as a carriage took them to Paris. They looked content enough, I felt. Such is my news. Am I to be congratulated, awarded bouquets-or, even better, your long, slow kisses where I most cherish them? Hasten to come and see me soon and I shall introduce you to Monica who has been for several years with me, both as pupil and assistant. My private boudoir is available to you both at any time. She has seen your likeness and is already smitten, I do believe. If she accompanies you back to England then I am sure there will be no accounting for your mutual adventures! Except to me!
Your very affectionate Julie