“I have heard it said,” he observed dreamily, “that the dignity and poise of the charming Mrs. Bolton is one of her chief assets amongst her aristocratic clientele — the charm is on display… but where are the dignity and poise?”
She trembled, reclining against him in the relaxed aftermath of her emission… but she did not raise her flushed face. He softly petted her heavy, unbound silken hair, twining his fingers in the tresses, tugging at it gently and bending down to nibble the nape of her neck with his teeth.
“Ah, well!” he murmured. “You did that beautifully, Rose. You were the vicious, masturbating girl to the life. I have male friends who would have given much to have witnessed your exhibition. Perhaps I may some day permit them to look on at your display of talent.”
And now she wailed aloud in horror. She raised a tear stained and crimson face to his. “Ohh! God! You could never have the heart…” she cried out hoarsely.
“Why should you mind?” he mocked delightedly. “I might allow you to wear a mask, perhaps-providing you were complaisant with all my friends. Would you like to wait upon my table-a party of four men, perhaps… for a festivity?”
“You would be entirely naked-and they would he entranced by your charms to the point where my food and wine would not be appreciated. They would be unable to keep their hands as well as their eyes from your magnificent nudities.”
“And I should he lenient about their fingerings-but I would not permit any of them to drape my lovely maid into a side room-unless I were feeling unusually generous. I know men…” he added reflectively, “who would gladly contrive to slip me into their wives' bed for an hour-providing that I assured them the full possession of your charms in return.”
Rose was speechless, swaying, crumpled. He realized that his half serious jesting had been too much for her nerves to stand.
“Easy… easy-don't faint I think far too much of you right now to share you with anyone. Though why, when your complaisances towards me have no longer any limits, you should be so affected at the thought of the surrender of your body to another man?”
“I am not an odalisque to be bandied about!” she said faintly. “No matter what you have done to me, I am not that And I had an idea-that you prized me-too much to… to treat me…”
“Your intense femininity,” remarked Freeman, after a brief pause, “is rather striking. The man who first possesses a woman is likely thereafter-for some time at least-to be the only man in the world for her.”
“It excites you now-in spite of your modesty and all that-to do anything at all for or to me. Yet the idea that any other admiring male should even see your naked body is abhorrent to you.”
“With your clever mentality, you will be able to understand the temptation it might be to a man like myself, to offer new shocks to your sensitive nature — and to browse quite pleasantly upon the shame you would feel.”
“I might even feel deeply fond of you at the very time when I caused you to drive some friends of mine almost crazy by showing him your naked little slit.”
“Please-please!” she begged huskily. “Don't say such things to me now-not just now-when I'm already so very nervous and excited.”
“To calm yourself,” he suggested, “just dismount from my leg and lick off the moisture you have deposited there.”
With a devotion that was almost fanatical, Rose knelt to obey him. Her abject submission struck her like a blow-yet it was a blow that sent its repercussions all through her body.
And suddenly, with a gurgling gasp, she turned from the thigh whose surface she had licked clean-to take his still swollen member in her grasp and expand her lips eagerly over its ruddy head. Hotly her wet little mouth encompassed the tremendous bulb-and smothered sighs of delight came from her gagged lips as she sucked once more upon the morsel of male flesh which was so very precious to her.
“I do not intend you to take the initiative as a rule. Rose,” he said rather hoarsely. “But this inclination of yours is really marvelous as is your skill in carrying it out. Now finger my balls-all my crotch. Now further back-find the rear aperture-press a finger in!”
She followed his instructions to the letter. The man panted with delight-and sank back in the deep chair.
“I love to feel-and see-your white throat gulp my spend,” he muttered. “But that mustn't happen twice the same day. Get up, Rose! Straddle my thighs-impale yourself upon my prick!”
He heard a low moan of dismay as Rose slowly left her darling prey. And then instantly she was upon him like a maenad, her teeth chattering with unsatisfied lust Her face was a rosy mask of passion and furious desire.
He calmed her haste and her hot ardor with a stinging blow across a white, rounded shoulder. She sighed with the sharp pain-and then caught and kissed the hand which struck her. She caught the significance of her swift punishment sufficiently to moderate her fury-and the speed of her sensual actions.
And indeed it was necessary that she should do so. For the monster with which she had to deal was something utterly new to the delicate sex which was about to offer it entrance.
Francis Freeman slumped even lower in the chair-so that she might point directly at her pink cleft, as she bestrode his hips, the ruddy head of his swollen sex. Rose was moaning softly-and bearing very lightly and timidly the lips of her slit upon the hard head of the shaft which her trembling fingers upheld and directed.
For her. Rose realized, this was likely to prove a new deflowering-and one of greater difficulty than her original one. She quite saw that now-as the soft lips of her cleft were borne inward, by the pressure that she herself was tentatively administering.
Yet she meant to bear it even if her tender flesh were to be torn and rent apart. Nothing else, she thought, had ever been so important to her in all her life as that she should house within her body this lovely male weapon.
The already revealed exploits of this huge virility only fired her the more as she saw, in what seemed like flashes of flame, Francis Freeman sensually yoked with his sister and his mother. She gasped with desire as he bore down more firmly.
Her bitten lower lip revealed her perfect teeth. The color ebbed from her face as, gasping, she now manager to lodge half of that immense head within the congested lips of her straining cunt.
She paused-sighing and quivering. Already she felt the touch and light pressure of this intruding flesh upon her clitoris. And the added flames thus kindled gave her courage to do what she must. And suddenly she gave a tremulous cry of triumph and gratification.
For the entire bulb had slipped slowly past the outer lips. The strain was greatly reduced-and even the light pain was converted into a sort of rapture. From now on. Rose was quite confident, she could endure it without crying out-unless it were with bliss. The hardest part was over-for she trusted to the natural resiliency of her inner passage to make room for even so huge a guest.
She would not have yielded up her place now for that of any queen in the world. Like a gourmet she meant to savor every second of her sweet impaling. Fears vanished before the quick realization that he was allowing her to be mistress of the situation-that she could proceed as slowly or as quickly as she chose.
Yet she hissed sharply through her clenched teeth as she admitted just the tiniest fragment more of that darling prick into her secret person.
Trembling like a leaf she felt her inner tissues yield to the knob of his masculinity and encompass it like the tightest of gloves. She heard the man emit a long, low sigh of pure gratification-and this sound was an encouragement to immolate herself more readily at his altar.
Yet she worked with the utmost caution as she gradually forced his weapon into her tender body. She had to pause between pressures-sometimes to emit a wee groan of pain and passion as the surprised and reluctant fibres within her tried to give and adjust themselves to an enormity unprecedented in all their previous experience.
The blood returned to her fine features. Scarlet now- trembling with an ecstasy that no discomforture of her secret tissues could combat, she felt gingerly beneath her with the tips of two fingers.
It seemed to her that miles of this stuff tissue had passed the portals of her sex and thrust upwards within her. That it had not pierced her heart-emerged in her throat-dimly surprised her.
“Ahh!” she gasped-as her exploring touch apprised her that hardly an inch of the shaft still remained outside. She caught her breath. She lifted herself up-and poised on her naked toes for an instant-and then cast herself forcibly downwards.
She cried out huskily and involuntarily. Ohh! God! It was done! They were yoked together as closely as it was possible for two bodies to be. Her little pang of pain died away-and was replaced by a tide of clear, burning rapture so immense that she felt born anew, and shook and writhed and cried out in a felicity almost too great for endurance.
It seemed to her that her body was nothing now except a shell-a shell ecstatically crammed with the throbbing flesh of this man. But the wee movements of her writhing upon the shaft which filled her determined the issue of her congested femininity.
She wailed clearly in that golden voice of hers-and then she quivered violently for an instant-while her dew flooded down to greet this dear invader of her body. It was easier after that. She dared attempt no abrupt movements-yet she found that the moisture of her warm emission made it more possible to rise and fall very gently upon the shaft which pierced her.
It seemed to her now that her seed flowed constantly. And the fact was that jet after jet issued every moment or two from her delicate, excited inner glands. It was as near as possible to that continuous emission, whose raptures, we are told, would slay if prolonged for more than three or four minutes.
She could feel the head of his prick filling her cunt to bursting point, and it seemed to her that the mouth of her womb was nipping at the invader in frenzied delight His sperm seemed to burn as it jetted up the hot passage — which writhed and clung in a lascivious passion which she would never have dreamed possible.
She moaned with rapture as she pressed herself to him, twining her body to his, wrapping her legs round his loins, holding him to her with every fibre of her being.
“Once more!” he gasped hoarsely. “Once more-Rose… you are so wonderful!”
Wilder than ever with delight over his eulogy, she met his hot kiss and fell against his body. Yet, on tiptoes, she did not cease the slow upwards and downwards motion of her lovely body.
Knowing her to all intents and purposes out of her senses with ecstasy, he admired the infinite restraint with which she continued to make no move to increase the rapidity of her movements. Every little while she quivered and spent-but after a brief pause, there she was again- measuredly cherishing and nourishing both his rapture and her own.
Suddenly, with a gasping inhalation of his breath… Francis Freeman grasped her by her soft shoulders with fingers that sank like talons into her yielding flesh. And his sperm jetted once more into her body in ecstatic proof of his frantic bliss.
And the ecstasy of the woman was such that, mingling her semen with the spurts of his, she gave a gurgling little scream and then-as their spend ceased, she wilted and sank to the floor.
Be raised her to discover if she had fainted-and she smiled up at him ecstatically — but there were mauve circles under her beautiful eyes, and her lovely face was drawn and haggard.
“It has been too much for you, dear. You must go to bed at once. I can't have you getting ill, you know!”
“I did not know,” she said simply, “that such an ecstasy was possible on earth.”
“And I did not know,” he whispered, “that the woman lived who could make me so happy.”
“After hearing that, my darling,” she whispered with great glowing eyes, “I could be whatever you wished me to be…”
“You're persistent in your sentimentality at least,” he observed-but softened the effect of his words by kissing her gratefully.
“Nevertheless,” he said, a little later-after he had carried the exhausted Rose up to the little suite she occupied, and had put her to bed to recuperate, “Nevertheless, no one has ever acted toward you with such brutality before. Nor am I in the least repentant.”
“Nor I…” she murmured. “Not even sorry!”
“Of course,” be conceded-with a somewhat grudging and reflective admission, “you seem to have established a rather stronger hold on me-a more important place in my life-than I had expected.”
“I had no conscience in the matter. I meant to use and abuse you as my desires dictated-with no thought of your own modesty and refinement and self respect.”
With her head half turned on her pillow, she still eyed him fixedly. Her face, in the unbound masses of her long hair, was even more charming, he thought, with its traces of sexual fatigue-than it had been before.
“I haven't complained much-have I?” she whispered, as he seemed to pause for her reply.
“Damned if I don't believe you enjoyed it from the first!” he burst out. “Of course-the more sensitive and well bred a woman is-the more keenly she will respond to a forced and licentious servitude.”
“Thank you,” she murmured-with a wry little moue — “I don't really know what has happened to me. But I do know that I detested you when you were just the landlord to whom I owed money which I could not pay-and that I ceased to detest you from the instant that you imposed upon me a physical and mental fear of you.”
“I had a dread and shame more bitter than I can say, as you allowed me no intimacy or reserve unviolated-but I didn't dislike you. I can see that now.”
“And that means, Rose, that you will never be quite free as long as I live-or I either. And yet I could quite cynically do the most abominable things to you-at the expense of your pride and womanhood. I had, indeed, thought more than vaguely of showing you naked to some of my libertine friends and of making you endure the most extraordinary ordeals.”
“Please!” she said tremulously. “Not in the near future — not until I get perhaps a little-toughened.”
“How does the notion affect you?” he asked, watching her keenly.
She considered this gravely. “I think,” she said at last, “that if I were your wife-instead of being apparently just a property of yours!”
She twisted her naked legs luxuriously beneath the sheets, and a curiously lambent light began to glow in her eyes.
“I think that then I could find something voluptuously indecent and-well-exciting… in being exposed nude to crowd-with, perhaps… other wives compelled to the same display of their naked bodies to each other's husbands. Or perhaps even-!” She hesitated.
“Even if you allowed one man to strip me naked and possess me-to obtain some ends of your own with him — but only provided you were present could I become impassioned with such a surrender-and only providing it delighted you!”
“A very frank statement,” he remarked pleasantly. “But I can see that I shall often make you very unhappy. For example, I proposed to enjoy some of your more lovely and patrician customers-who are helpless because of their obligations to you. And you will have to-assist me-very actively at times with these.”
“Oh… that!” she whispered, wide-eyed. “I had a feeling that you had something like that in mind. The way in which you made me describe some of the girls I had seen unclad-or very nearly so-suggested it to me.”
“But why should you think that would make me unhappy? Am I not sure to do anything I can to please you? If I were inclined to lie jealous I should always remember that none of these lovelies could possibly usurp my role in your life.”
“You must go to sleep.” he said, rising to his feet. “Kiss me goodbye!”
With lovely bare anus emerging from under the covers she embraced him warmly. And there was something in the tender touch of her soft lips on his that moved him delicately. And then the delicacy fled in dismay-for suddenly the bedded woman was sighing-and licking his lips feverishly-and squirming her red tongue between his parted lips-and taking his own tongue hotly.
He had let her take it-realizing that she was practicing on him the lessons learned from her husband- and that since she had found pleasure in the earns, she wished to give him the same pleasure too.
He let her eager, wet little tongue have its way with his lips, his own tongue, the depths of his mouth. His tongue was moved to respond, and he was startled to feel a vivid delight in the process. Amorously clinging to his neck, with half closed eyes. Rose was dragged to her naked hips from under the bedclothes in her reluctance to let him go as he stood up once more.
“Pretty fresh-pretty fresh!” he said in mock rebuke, as he shook his head at her. “Did anyone invite you to give that demonstration, young lady? You may just kiss me elsewhere, another goodbye kiss-as a penalty for your daring.”
She pressed her lips instantly to the bulge in his nether garments-and quivered with astonished delight.
“Are you utterly insatiable, then?” she gasped. “And I thought-that I had drained you to the last drop-even as I was drained!”
He smiled and nodded as she looked up at him questioning and beseeching. And now, naked to the thighs, her soft fingers fluttered dextrously about his buttons. As the huge monster which she adored burst forth from concealment Rose exclaimed in agitation. Taking it in both her hands she nestled it against the warm velvet of her cheeks.
Her kisses were fervently scattered upon all its swelling length. And finally she opened her soft red lips to the tip and sucked it delicately-as her fingers caressed its long hot shaft.
“No more!” he said at length, thickly.
“How mean you are to me!” she pouted. “I could go on sucking you for ever! And-and the juice was-was all coming in another minute! And now I shan't sleep a wink all night-longing for it!”
“Very fresh you're getting-just because you think that you've found my soft spot!” he mocked. And he swung her nude body around so as to lay two or three hard ships on her soft white bottom-slaps under which she capered and cried out melodiously. Then, as he released her, she lay back on the bed, her lovely limbs all open and displayed, looking at him with bright, birdlike eyes.
“If you think you could ever gain emancipation from your yoke by the use of your lips, why, you're crazy,” he said, as he motioned to her to rebutton his trousers. “For the pleasure you give me thus is so wonderful that I would keep you for that if you did nothing else! Good night, dear fool!”
Modesty seeming a small thing now, she slipped from the bed in all her snowy nudity to accompany him at least as far as the door. But he waved her back with a smile. And too tired and prostrate to realize to the full what had happened to her. Rose lay back on her bed attempting to recover mentally the savor and feel of his huge, warm virility in her own warm mouth.
How-ohh. how it had shaken her with sombre rapture to suck him-to be compelled to suck him! The sensation had been comparable-although so different… to the indescribable and thrilling spasms she had endured when mounted on his lovely prick.
So wearied that she was like a child once more, she just whimpered softly in the gathering darkness-whimpered because he had finally withdrawn that dear prick from her lips-just as she was trembling with delight over being allowed to suck it once more.
She did not realize the infinity of her surrender to his domination. She had room for only one thought-he had gone away-when she would have been so happy-scorning scandals that might ensue. If he had only stayed!
She would not have asked anything of him if he had only remained. She would not have bothered him in the least. She would even have slept on the rug by the bed and given the couch to him, if he had wished it. Her bodily longing for him was terrific-even though he had but just left her.
Her unreasoning agitation enhanced by her weakness, she wept a little there in the gathering darkness. She was no longer vibrating with passion. She just felt alone and quite deserted. But the one idea that he would return after she had slept, struggled through the shadows of her prostration. And so she let herself slide slowly down into deep slumber.
Too-fatigued even to dream, she was awakened hours later by clear sunlight streaming into her chamber. At first she had the familiar but pleasant sensation that she was just awakening to a wonderful occasion-that something marvelous had or was about to happen to her.
And then she rediscovered full consciousness-and recalled the past, remembered everything. And realized that presently a master-not just a man but a master-would come, to once more dominate her life. With a silent pain within her being her resuscitated pride and modesty that had recoiled.
There must be a way out-she could not endure that her normal life should end thus-and a life of serfdom begin. No, she must flatter him-appeal to him-say that he had swept her off her feet. She would insist that she was a free woman just as he was a free man-that their relations must now be readjusted-but-and Rose realised that her mind had been working towards this climax- but she would be is mistress if he wished-with the clear understanding that it was a free will offering on her part.
It was a rather pale but quite determined Rose Bolton who sat at her desk that afternoon waiting for the arrival of Francis Freeman. A firm footfall outside made her shiver nervously. And then the door opened, without even a knock, and he entered assuredly.
With a glance his keen gray eyes detected her changed attitude. Perhaps he had expected it. At any rate, he greeted her courteously enough.
“We have some business matters of yours to go over, Mrs. Bolton,” he said. “Permit me to sit here beside you…”
Off hand the sensitive woman surmised rather than perceived a faint trace of amusement on his part-and she stiffened at this embarrassing attitude. She had rather expected to have to engage in verbal battle with him for the preservation of her self respect and personal liberty, and she was quite baffled by this disconcerting courtesy. It was almost as if he recalled nothing of the earth shaking events which had occurred yesterday.
Yet she began slowly to tremble as she sat thus by his side and listened to comments which appeared to be all strictly business in their nature. She was furious with herself for not being able to emulate his own composure. She almost did deserve, she told herself disgustedly, to become what he had made of her yesterday-the chattel he had taken and used and abused at will.
She was aware that she was flushing-and then suddenly he was speaking of things which no self respecting woman should hear-or countenance.
“By the way,” he said casually, “I understand that girls of the most select families are prone to take roguish pictures of each other in the dressing rooms of such an establishment as yours?”
“Sometimes they give the favoured dressmaker herself some of the photos, I am told. Have you any such pictures — especially of the girls whose names are included in this packet of unpaid bills?”
“Well-really-Mr. Freeman!” said Rose… trying to show surprised indignation. And then she burst into the nervous admonitions she had planned.
“I… I must tell you,” she said feverishly, “that I now realize what a terrible mistake we committed yesterday- I blame myself as much or more than I blame you-we must start afresh.”
It was as if she had not spoken-unless the queer gleam in his eyes signified a certain anticipatory pleasure at the frail obstacle offered by her newly imposed dignity.
“You will speak when addressed. Rose,” he said. “We shall return to this matter later. For the present I am asking you to tell me whether you have any such photographs as I have just indicated?”
She gasped faintly. She was shivering-unable to pursue a discussion which now seemed like unbelievable temerity on her part. He glanced at her enquiringly.
“I… I think-” she stammered weakly, “that I have just a few-locked in a drawer-and not to be seen, of course, by any men-even if they are relatives of the girls who gave them to me!”
“Ah… yes,” he replied, almost indifferently. “Remind me to look at them before I leave. Just now I must put down certain data on the sheet of paper. Give me an old fashioned pen and ink, please-I prefer them to fountain pens…”
Rose complied hastily with his request. She was in a panic still, she needed more time, she thought, to prepare for such an ordeal as this interview with him.
He had dipped the pen profusely — and was looking about-apparently for a place to shake the nib before writing. She indicated the new sheet of blotting paper on the desk in front of him. But he shook his bead.
“Too clean,” he said. “I will not soil a clean blotter that cannot be washed, when there are other things available that can easily be cleansed. Lay bare your bosom. Rose, and I shall select a spot.”
Scarlet and panting, the woman raised both hands to her breast in a gesture of protection. She gazed at him- wide eyed-incapable of speech.
“This very instant!” he said emphatically. “You have no idea what will happen to you if you keep me waiting even a few seconds longer!”
She moaned feebly-her dark eyes suffused and swimming with tears. Her look of pleading-of horror-fell away before his fixed glance.
“In ten seconds,” he said calmly, as he took out his watch, “your breasts must be naked under my eyes!”
The words were odious enough-but it was the threat underlying them that shattered her resistance. Her slim fingers wrested open her corsage with feverish rapidity, and pushed her lacy chemise downward over her full and lovely breasts.
“You did it in nine seconds flat,” he said approvingly as he put his watch away. “You must be trained to such promptitude. Now then — bare yourself further — for I think I will not stain either of these lovely mounds- whose nipples betray a certain rising emotion which I cannot approve. Press your clothing down to the waist- I will blot this upon the skin beneath your left breast — just above the heart!”
Cynically he spattered the ink upon her snowy skin. She shrank back and murmured in shame-and in real distress too, as from the irregular splash some drops began to trickle further downward on her naked body.
Rose regarded them in dire dismay-drawing the silk and lace of her chemise further away from the stain-not daring to rub it off without his permission. He bent over and took out his own handkerchief-with which he removed the traces of ink and much of the stain.
“Rub this handkerchief on your bare bottom at once. Rose,” he said, handing it to her. “I wish to find the stain on there when next I have occasion to strip or spank you. Make haste, we have much to do today.”
She staggered to her feet. And she underwent the humiliation of thrusting the stained cambric beneath her dress in the rear-of putting aside the light fabric which covered her snowy rump-and of rubbing each buttock with the rapidly drying ink.
“I am sure it will please my eyes-like beauty spots,” he remarked, as he cast the used handkerchief into the waste basket. “This bluish stain beneath your breast,” he added, as he took the soft and lovely mound in his hand, “may leave traces for a day or two. But I rather relish such a blemish on your immaculate body.”
“Now, Mrs. Bolton,” he said, “are you going to let me see any further sign of revolt-or will you instantly obey any orders which I may give?”
The use of her married name instead of the familiar “Rose” enhanced her dismay and confusion. “I… I have not-disobeyed-” she stammered, looking affrightedly up at him. Was this the man to whom, only yesterday, she had inwardly vowed a torrential and enduring affection which her very shame had seemed to enhance?
“I want a reply-not an argument,” he said. “And I may tell you that if there are any further signs of disobedience I have it in mind to telephone one of your feminine debtors and her husband. And you will receive them stark naked- and be punished before their eyes for having allowed the young woman to run up such a bill. You may be quite certain that the man at least will highly approve of that.'”
“Ohh…m-my God. You wouldn't-d-do that?” gasped Rose in utter dismay.
“Don't tell me what I, would or wouldn't do,” he said sternly, reaching a hand towards the desk phone.
“Ohh-no… no-don't! I will always-m-mind you… I will indeed!” cried Rose feverishly. Her teeth were chattering in her head-but she was yet aware of the inner thrill and throbbing of her intimate tissues.
“If you ever forget that pledge for an instant,” he said softly, “rest assured that I shall know how to act! Now raise your chemise-the ink is too dry now to stain that pretty garment. Then rearrange your clothing-and make a few notes of my decisions.”
“I observe that a Mrs. Tasker is indebted to you in the sum of over three thousand dollars-a quite ridiculous amount, considering the financial circumstances of her clergyman husband. And much of this seems to have been incurred on behalf of her minor daughter, Louise. This charming blonde and her ever blonder daughter are entirely miscast as the members of a clerical household- it seems to me!”
“Yet perhaps they stand in awe of the Rev. Dr. Tasker himself-if he is aroused. They are pleasure loving-and they appear even fonder of expensive attire than of social frivolities. How came you, Rose, to permit this pair to run up such an impossible bill?”
“I–I'm sorry… very sorry,” stammered the 'mistress' of the business meekly.
“Don't worry,” he observed grimly-as he regarded her distressed and blushing countenance. “They may yet be worth an ample three thousand dollars to-well, if not to you directly, at least to you through other channels. Is it possible that you have the photograph of either of these beauties en deshabille-in that locked drawer you-er- spoke of?”
“Why,” murmured Rose nervously, “it happened that Louise was here one day without her mother-a party of her schoolgirl friends-friends of wealthy families with the exception of herself…”
“There were four of them-all in high spirits-and one of them had a camera-they made pictures… not very nice ones, some of them. Louise was the only bashful one in the group-but she was afraid to be thought 'fussy' I think-so they managed to induce her to be snapshotted like the rest-and once with no clothes on at all. She is perfectly lovely-slim but shapely-with a skin like… like milk!”
“Ah-you shall show me these pictures presently,” he said. “And now — have you anything 'on' the mother? Aside from her debt, I mean?”
“N-no-that is… I-” murmured Rose. “There was a very odd episode one afternoon. Some folks might say it didn't mean much-it was about some stockings!”
“Well, explain the mystery!” he ordered.
“Mr. George Bliss, the banker, was with her. They had been lunching at the Plaza, I gathered. I think perhaps here had been a few drinks. He had a package under his arm and they were joking about it. I didn't think much about it at first-for Mr. Bliss is a pillar of her husband's church. Mrs. Tasker had an appointment to try on some dresses I was making for her. I think the drinks must have gone to her head, for I never saw her so frivolous before. They were in the small reception room-for all the fitting rooms were occupied at the moment.”
“Of course they were talking and laughing. He unwrapped the package-and showed her the loveliest silk stockings I have ever seen.. Chancing to notice this as I passed by the door, which was ajar, I was curious enough to keep an eye and ear open.”
“The talk became lower and the laughter ceased. Mrs. Tasker was looking covetously at the long, gauzy hosiery which he shook out and dangled before her-and I didn't blame her-for they must have cost him thirty dollars a pair at least.”
“It appeared that she had gone with him to the shop when he purchased them-but without guessing the use to which he hoped to put them. I was so intrigued by the affair that I hid behind a screen and looked and listened. He was saying:
“But surely we are old enough friends for a little joke to be permissible, Mrs. Tasker-Doris-mayn't I call you Doris-after nearly ten years acquaintance?”
She murmured that she saw nothing objectionable in that. She was quivering with delight as she looked at those stockings, such, undoubtedly, as she had never been able In purchase herself.”
“But of course you knew that I had you in mind all the time,” he said. “At least-three pairs for you and three for my wife. And you remember your promise-to pay the same price for them that I might exact from Mrs. Bliss…”
“I thought it was all a joke,” she said hesitatingly. “How perfectly adorable those stocking are! But really — Mr. Bliss… George… to want to try them on me-it's- going a little far!”
“Why-stockings-legs are mere commonplace today,” he argued. “Though such legs as yours might prove to be are never commonplace. Did you notice how all the men admired them when we entered and left the Palm Court at lunch?”
“They shared attention with your lovely face and red-gold hair. I was proud-for I knew all the men-and many of the women-were thinking 'that lucky man probably sees her wonderful legs whenever he likes'.”
“Ohh-but… George!” she protested, with a nervous little laugh. “Really, I'm afraid you forget you are talking to the demure wife of your pastor. My-my legs are grateful for your compliments-but they cannot forget that they are the support of a body vowed to decency and seemliness.”
“But not the support of a prude,” he insisted. “They support a charming woman with a keen sense of humor — a lover of fun-a lovely woman in her thirties who has no inclination to find evil where evil does not exist.”
“Come, my dear Doris-let your husband's old friend present you with these stockings as a momento of a lunch which was most enjoyable-and let him try on just one pair of them for you?”
Wistfully she eyed the lovely pair which he was now holding out to her-a pair adorned with seed pearls.
“It would take-a good while-they're so distractingly fragile,” she murmured weakly. “And I may be called at any time to the fitting room.”
“Just an instant-I'll find out,” he said abruptly.
“He left the room-and sensing that he was looking for me I made haste to leave my vantage post and show myself where he could not but see me. He thrust a bill into my hand.
“For your charities,” he muttered. “Please see that I am not interrupted for half an hour at least-I have some church affairs to discuss with Mrs. Tasker.”
“He vanished-leaving me gaping at a fifty dollar bill in my hand. I hesitated. It was the first time that any one had taken it for granted that my establishment could be used for such a dubious purpose. I think it was the money that affronted me. Yet I pocketed both the affront and the money-really intrigued now by this episode involving the beautiful wife of this eminent clergyman.
“I hurried to my observation post just in time to hear him say: 'Mrs. Bolton tells me she cannot give you a fitting for at least half an hour-and so-dear lady.”
“He fell on his knees before the chair in which she was sitting. Mrs. Tasker was flushed. She nibbled at her small fist for a moment Then, as he commenced to remove a very shapely shoe, she opened her lips as though to protest-she tugged at the foot which he had imprisoned. And then as he slipped both hands slowly and luxuriously up the thin silk stocking which covered one lovely leg, she gave a little gasping cry and succumbed.”
She laughed shakily at him: “You can be assured, Mr. Bliss, that you are the first man I have had who has shown any enthusiasm for his job. Indeed, you even seem disposed to pay-instead of being paid-for such attention you give me!”
“Not trusting to his voice-for by now his mounting hands were well up beneath her skirts-he mumbled- almost inaudibly.
Doris Tasker abandoned any attempt to make conversation. She sank back in the chair-and half closed her eyes. Her long lashes fluttered. She was breathing hard. “Ohh! O-o-o-h!” she sighed. “Please-p-please make haste… George! I'm very ticklish-and I'm beginning to think that this-is very wrong!”
He paid not the least attention to her cries. By this time it was evident that his searching hands were well 'bove the tops of her long stockings. Mrs. Tasker was twisting and sighing with nervous excitement.
“Please!” she murmured feebly once more. “Do be as — as decorous as possible about our… your-little joke. -I'm nervous… as well as ticklish and the stockings are fastened at the-outer sides… to long garters instead of where you seem to think!”
The man was as red as fire and twitching with delight. He detached the stocking slowly-and his unseen hands began to roll it gradually down to the knee-which was revealed by the raising of Doris Tasker's short skirt during the last operations.
“His trembling fingers slowly bared the white roundness of her lovely limb-and travelled-conveying the stocking with them in a little roll-over the swelling calf to the slender ankle.
“He ventured to raise the woman's foot to his groin as he knelt there. She tried nervously to snatch it away-and I think she must have felt a certain unseemly contact on her stockinged toes. But he held the foot firmly-and drew the stocking completely off. And the naked foot which he displayed was quite as lovely as the leg to which it belonged.”
“But he shared with me, obviously, the thought that his companion was in such a state of embarrassed confusion that she might well put an end to the 'joke' if he should venture to express his pleasure over the liberties she was allowing him.
“Still crouching, he held the foot in his knee for a brief moment-while he tried to adjust to the small, rosy toes the stocking he wished to try on. Mrs. Tasker's quickened breathing was audible in the silence. It was very clear to me that this was her first experience with even so mild an extra-marital impropriety.
“She closed her eyes completely. Her whole face was rosy red. She shivered a little. For now the excited man was daring to caress gently and soothingly the velvety skin of her rounded calf, his fingers ascending nearly to the dimpled knees.
“I think it will go on all right,” he murmured. “But I am not quite certain-you have such lovely curves here. We must not risk tearing this lovely web-I must see- just for an instant to compare…”
“With one quick movement he raised her skirt into her lap. She exclaimed ashamedly-starting to rise-and then she sank back again. And now the two lovely legs were stretched out side by side-one naked and the other stockinged more than half way up the exquisitely white, rounded thigh.
“That Mr. Bliss reveled in the beauty of the sight was obvious. He smoothed the wholly nude thigh. He fingered with delight the soft skin above the stocking which was still in place.
“Ohh-but… please!” stammered Mrs. Tasker, opening her blue eyes and half rising from her chair. “I'm- I'm so afraid you're forgetting-that this is… just a joke — between friends.”
“He pushed her back gently, as if, even in his growing excitement, he realized that he was now master of the game — for the agitation of the woman in her indecent exposure was very clear.
“I'll hurry,” he promised, “as fast as this delicate silk will let me…”
“Pull down my skirt!” she begged.
“He did so grudgingly. And he contrived to slip the very shapely bare foot and leg into the silken mesh of the stocking-once more thrusting his hands far underneath her skirt as soon as it became necessary.
“And now, Doris,” he said, “we must see the effect!”
“He raised the skirt once more — and exhibited the lovely limbs in their contrasting apparel. 'Just look!' he cried admiringly. 'I'm sure you will like the effect'.”
Doris Tasker sat up. She tried bashfully to pull down her skirt. Determinedly he lifted it again-calling her own attention to the stocking through whose sheer mesh the lovely thigh and leg shone whitely.
“Ohh!” she cried delightedly. “It is lovely-isn't it- George?”
“It is!” he assented. “It is worthy of wearing such an exquisite sheath of silk and pearls'.'
“Ohh-silly… I meant that the stocking was lovely — not the leg,” she explained. “I feel like a queen in stockings such as these!”
“If you wore the stockings… and nothing else-you would be more than regal!” he muttered thickly. “Oh! Doris, you're lovely beyond words!”
I think his loss of composure gave her an assurance she had lacked until now. Any woman, in the presence of a masculine desire of that kind, is likely to feel herself the stronger of the two, unless…
And Rose gave her companion an apologetic glance, “Unless the man simply crushed her beneath his will and strength,” she concluded.
He smiled at her. “No woman is worth taking-except quite casually-save as a subdued and palpitating captive,” he stated.
“Ohh… not-not as a companion?” quavered Rose. “Not as one who would be so-so loving-and grateful… if she were allowed to feel herself as a comrade-as well as just a plaything?”
“The child and the parent may be comrades,” he stated.
“But the woman should feel herself to be both subjected and obedient-for she will have-if she learns to care for the man, the consoling knowledge that she is quite irreplaceable to him-that wives and mistresses abound but that voluptuous serfs are rare.”
Glancing up at him shyly, Rose considered this. She sighed softly, and leaned against him.
“You left Mrs. Tasker in a rather parlous state-for the chaste wife of a minister,” he reminded her.
“Well-I was surprised,” Rose continued. “For she was so entranced by the vision of her beautiful limb thus clad that she seemed as if hypnotized. And she was childlike in her desire to see both legs thus adorned.
“Clutching her light skirt at her crotch so as to make more unseemly exposures impossible, she allowed both her legs to remain exposed to their summits. She quivered a little as he persistently caressed her silken skin in taking off her other stocking-but when he had replaced it with the other Parisian sheating she could not hide her delight at the effect.
“Standing now-maintaining her skirt at the peak of her thighs-she gazed downward and admired the new marvels that she wore. I think that she was intoxicated with her pleasure. For although she was normally a modest and quite refined woman, she made him now a concession which was far more serious than she had expected.
“She gave a silvery exclamation of delight when he softly whispered that she should have all six pairs of stockings if she would grant him a favor-'four kisses for an old and affectionate friend.'
“She assented with a quick nod. And as he rose, she had a coquettish little smile for him as she let his mouth take her lovely lips. He was wily enough not to prolong that kiss unduly, or to put too much fervor into it. As their mouths were parted once more, nevertheless, her color was vivid-and she was sighing softly.
“He dropped to his knees again. She looked at him with a questioning gaze-and then, as he raised her skirt-she littered a whispered protest.
“But I have three kisses coming…” he explained.
“Ohh… but-I thought, of course-” she stammered, “that you meant-on my lips?”
“There were no such restrictions mentioned,” he replied. “One just above each stocking top is my thought, Doris, you lovely creature.”
“Her own fine eyes were again on the superb stockings as she humored Mm in this. He gave her the skirt to hold — and he pressed long, ardent kisses on her snowy nudities just above the stocking tops. And so long were these new hose that his hot lips were pressed to her velvety flesh almost at the juncture of her thighs.”
“And now the last one!” he said huskily.
“But… but where?” she stammered bewilderedly.
“Here-right here… you delicious darling!” he said in a hoarse whisper.
Still mechanically holding up her skirt, the charming Mrs. Tasker literally staggered on her feet. For his head had been thrust swiftly beneath the scanty while silk that fell about her crotch. I saw his fingers seek frenziedly to unbutton whatever obstacle was there, and then his hot mouth was glued to the very centre of her lovely cunt.
Doris Tasker wailed aloud. Her face was raised to the ceiling. It was aflame-and all her features were working convulsively. She was unable to speak-or even to remove his vampire mouth. She shuddered with a voluptuous ecstasy and she displayed a blazing, incredulous rapture so great that it was clear that she had never imagined such a caress was possible.
In her fearful perturbation she had unwittingly lifted her skirt still higher. The hanker had, as I imagined, unfastened her undies. Her sexual regions were entirely bared. His lips were hotly pressed upon the upper part of her delicate slit. His face was pressing down, striving eagerly for a deeper penetration between the gloriously naked legs.
The woman cried out hysterically. I saw the groove of ruddy gold in which his face was resting rise and fall with the palpitation of her flesh. Her legs involuntarily parted — admitting his lips now to all the delicate flesh of her rosy cleft…
Rejoicing in this exposure of all her secrecies, the man withdrew his face for a second to admire her splendid nude body. I saw-with him-the dainty carmine of an excited slit-begging to be caressed.
He plunged down again. He kissed madly. I saw his hot tongue emerge to participate in this frenzied caress.
“Almighty God!” gasped the distracted Doris, as she fell backwards and collapsed into the chair behind her.
“And so she escaped him-did she?” queried Francis. “I always had an idea that the only use he ever had for a girl was to treat her like a ripe fruit-and suck out her juices.”
“Oh! He could have done more,” whispered Rose embarrassed to blushing. “I can assure you that he-his- thing… stuck out finely-when he was kissing her… there…!”
“Learn to speak plainly,” he bade her. “If you mean to say that his prick was stiff while he kissed her cunt, then come out with it!”
“His… p-prick was-stiff-while he kissed her… c-cunt!” said Rose in a shamed whisper.
“How you do dislike any lack of decorum!” he said musingly. “I have a notion that it is only when forced to it by me that you can get worked up to an ardor that makes you quite unthinking in your lovely lasciviousness.”
“I had it in mind to get one of your young debtors- perhaps this Norma Wales-and compel her to pet your naked body in the most luscious and licentious ways- though I am afraid that you would be both horrified and apologetic towards her-instead of the firm mistress who commands an obedient tongue to do her will. Unless-I were there to supervise!”
“Oh-if you were there,” said Rose ingenuously, “anything you wanted would occur, of course. But I do realize at last-that I wasn't intended by nature to dominate anybody. And all my instincts seem to be to do as you dictate to me!”
“And that is your first open confession,” he observed, with a smile. “And now tell me, what did old Bliss do to her next?”
“He got up very slowly from his knees. As he approached her, Mrs. Tasker shrank back and held out repelling hands.”
“Give me-time to-recover!” she panted. “Go away… please for a moment-” she buried her face in her hands and sobbed.
“You liked it,” he said doggedly. “You know you did. You even parted your legs-and raised your skirts higher. Your little pussy was just quivering with pleasure!”
“Don't talk to me-and especially like that!” she said hysterically. “Ohh — I'm so bitterly ashamed — what a thing to do to me!”
“I couldn't help it,” he muttered. “I'm crazy about you. I think you're the loveliest woman in the city. I was mad wanting to kiss you-and to kiss you where you would feel it most. I couldn't help it, I tell you.” He made a gesture of despair.
“But… you-y-you saw me!” she wailed accusingly at him. “I was all… b-bare! Y-you saw e-everything… you kissed m-me t-there-on my… m-my… ohh!”
“Yes-I did!” he assented, almost rapturously. “And nothing can rob me of the recollection, or of the way your lovely slit throbbed against my lips.” He looked at her with a beseeching expression. “I would give anything I possess-just to feel you-spend-on my tongue… my lips! Listen, Doris!”
“Don't call me Doris any more!” she said in a stifled small voice.
“Listen, Doris!” he repeated. “You could live in luxury — you and your husband and daughter. I have millions — you could have whatever you wished. I would not ask to possess you-just to be permitted to caress you sometimes…”
“He pleaded his burning desire for her. He called it love. And I think she weakened somewhat-for she must have recalled that he could do much to injure her husband's position. There was a reconciliation of sorts-but no real sign of relenting or succumbing on Mrs. Tasker.”
“Well-at least George can boast of probably having had more-much more-from the lovely lady with the red gold hair than anyone save her husband,” observed Freeman candidly.
A gleam came into his gray eyes. “I think,” he said, very softly, “that you are going to make me a gift of the favors-the ultimate favors of this charming customer of yours!”
“I… I am?” cried the bewildered Rose. “How could I? You know I'd give you anything I could-but how?”
“You will at least help me very materially in my plan. And you will, perhaps, see me sheath an old friend-or a new friend of yours-within her body.”
“Ohh!” whispered Rose dejectedly. “I see what you have in mind. To have every one of the most beautiful of my clients who owe money — beginning with Doris Tasker. Or at least-all who are not maidens?”
“Have you any objections on those latter grounds?” he asked her seriously.
“I-why… you will do what you like, I know!” she said, with a regretful look. “But… then-you will not need me-I shall be free!” She smiled sadly. “And I am now finding out that it is not altogether terrible to be- to do-whatever you wish. I found it out yesterday- and tried hard to forget it last night.”
“Don't weep. Rose,” be said-for tears stood in her dark eyes. “And don't be jealous either. I may take a few lovely, desirable bodies from amongst your customers. But you will remain to me after all these others have sampled my couch… if indeed they do. For there will never be one of them to whom I could say-as I say now to you-'show me your naked buttocks, madam-and show me that you have obediently stained them as I ordered you to do'!”
Rose started from her seat. Impetuously, she turned her back on him. Her slender fingers raised her skirt, and showed a pair of exquisite lace trimmed drawers. Her quick hands, extended behind her, found and opened the vertical slit in that intimate garment. And the full, beautiful, luxuriant buttocks met his eyes in their lovely nudity-each white mound stained faintly and irregularly with ink.
“The stains will come out, with bathing, inside of two days.” he said, smoothing and petting the naked hillocks, which trembled voluptuously beneath his touch.
“I almost regret having made you do this-for your soft and lovely bottom is a source of constant joy to me. Bend forward from the waist-keep your legs stiff and straight. Now part them-further-further. Now spread your buttocks apart with your fingers. Show me your bottom hole clearly. Back up just a trifle…”
As the now shivering Rose-fully conscious of the indecent exposure to which she was submitting-obeyed and drew near to his chair while maintaining the most immodest and revealing posture imaginable, he bent forward and ran his tormenting fingers slowly and voluptuously through all her crotch. Their tips dwelt on her rosy anus-and on the hot lips of her sex.
Rose sighed. She staggered-hardly able, in her shame and agitation, to remain upright. She moaned softly, her eyes glazed and unseeing as she bent obediently forward, exposing with her slim fingers the crinkled bud of her bottom hole.
“I think I should like, some day, to lodge myself in here,” he remarked cynically. “So beautiful a backside deserves to yield its virginity'.” And he illustrated his sombre idea, and redoubled Rose's confusion, by probing his forefinger within the tight portals of the little rosette which her trembling hands were offering him.
“Oh! God!” she wailed hysterically. “You would kill me, I know. You would tear me-I should never survive such a…!”
“Yet you would lie down and offer it to me-if I ordered it-wouldn't you, Rose?” he demanded.
“Yes… ohh… yes!” she cried hoarsely-too inflamed now to do more than stand quivering before him-as he gently pinched and caressed the lips of her throbbing sex.