by AnonYMous
Her skin has the warm gold tan which reminds one so easily of the Hellenic or Egyptian that she will suit me admirably in Cairo. The slant of her almond eyes with the high arch of their brows, the long slope of her brow and nose will all add to her Eastern excitement.
Miss Jones is a born exhibitionist, a lewd little minx who delights to provoke the boys of the town by showing herself provokingly to them when the poor young fellows cannot find relief by getting their hands on her. You need only recall the sight she presented when, as one of your girls here, she displayed herself in the boutique behind the protection of the glass. The Signore assured me that the young bitch had taken to performing another remarkable antic. She would walk slyly through his gardens at night to a place where tall iron railings fence the grounds impenetrably from the surrounding olive groves. Miss Jones was as safe as a beautiful cat in her cage from the rough hands of the lads who spied upon her from outside. Then, said the Signore, the young teaser would stretch out almost naked on the grass and perform languorous self-caresses while the youth of Gardone watched helplessly and shuddered with longing from beyond the iron railings. By no means could they scale this formidable barrier and deal with her as she richly deserves. Miss Jones would lie facing them, secure behind the railings and beyond their reach. While the passionate Italian youths sighed and yearned, she would caress her own copper-toned nudity, almond eyes watching them with a mocking randiness. She showed them pussy and stroked the little creature's fur most lasciviously. She turned and heard them groan with frustrated desire at the round coppery cheeks of Miss Jones's bottom. Would it not serve her right to be taught a lesson by these amorous ragazzi whom she has tormented for so long? The Signore vowed that it would, and set about laying his plans. How I regret, my dear friend, that you were not here the other night to witness the ingenuity of our sublime poet. It was an hour or so after dinner when the little adventure began. That night, like every other during this summer, was warm and balmy by the lakeside, the air heavy with scent, thyme and eucalyptus in the gardens of the villas. The dark spears of the cypress trees against a flush of pale starlight, the moon rippling upon the lake, suggested a scene from pagan antiquity. We lay in wait to see what would happen. Miss Jones slipped out of the Villa Lola and into the gardens of the Signore himself. In the moonlight she seemed like a randy little temple dancer with her sharp young nose, slightly receding chin and the slope of her forehead. Yet she wears her dark brown curls in a short and upward-brushed crop to remind one of her back-street origins The young bitch was most provokingly dressed-or undressed!-in nothing but a breast-halter and tight silk knickers which encased her from waist to mid-thigh with their translucent veil. With her slim straight back, pert young breasts, slender branching thighs and perfectly rounded bottom-cheeks she deserved to be sacrificed to the lusts of the local boys. I need not remind you of the rear view of Miss Jones walking! With her legs which are not very long and her waist which is long in proportion, she bustles along in a tight and lascivious little swagger of her bum-cheeks. In a moment more she came to the place where the iron railings fence off the end of the Signore's private gardens from the olive groves beyond sloping down to the shore of the lake. Among the trees one dimly made out the movements of the young men. Just within the railings was a mossy patch, nature's couch upon which Miss Jones might extend herself. The lads pressed their loins against the iron bars, squirming and sighing, yet they could not reach her. Miss Jones lay tantalisingly just beyond the range of the longest arm thrust through the bars. So the pantomime began. With the slant of her almond eyes and the high pencilled brows over them, the young bitch undid herself, first shedding the breast-halter and then the tight silk-knickers. Like a randy little odalisque she lay down naked on the soft bed of moss, propped on her elbow as she faced the sighing boys with stony hostility. Slowly she began to caress her trim pale-gold thighs, drawing her fingers up presently to fondle the dark patch of hair at the base of her belly. Then the fingers eased their way between her thighs and Miss Jones began to stroke herself languorously along her feminine slit. It was remarkable how she did this without allowing the pleasure she must have felt to show in the catlike Turkomean mask of her face. Presently she turned over and rested her head on one arm while she used the other hand to continue playing with herself. Now she made her coppery bottom-cheeks into a pair of smooth round globes, deeply and suggestively separated, to tease the lads to madness. Can you imagine the effect on such unfortunate young men, my friend? I feel sure you have often observed men passing your premises while Miss Jones on all fours brushes up the carpet. If the sight of her tightly rounded rear cheeks in jeans-denim can have such an effect on them, imagine how these ragazzi must have felt on seeing her in her present lascivious state! These poor young fellows seemed doomed to groan and clutch their loins in vain. Just then, however, a shadow moved behind the bushes. Two figures, cloaked black and masked like something out of an opera-tragedy, darted from the foliage, even before the golden-skinned little odalisque was aware of their presence. One of them clipped a silver bangle round her ankle.
Though our randy Miss Jones tried to draw away, the second figure had already taken the light steel chain lying round the bangle, and clipped it to the railings. The youths in the olive grove stared in wild surmise at the opportunity which was now offered to them. It was true that they could not get through the railings and throw themselves upon this randy young piece-goodness knows what damage they might have done to her in their present state of enthusiasm! Yet now she was chained by the ankle to the railings and a most amusing tug-of-war seemed about to take place. The two mysterious figures vanished as quickly as they had come. Would it surprise you altogether, my friend to learn that I played Leporella to the Signore's Don Giovanni?
For all that, he must take credit for the devising of the little jape.
At once we, who had been the principal actors so far, were content to withdraw to the royal box-behind a eucalyptus tree-and give our applause to the drama. The light of challenge, as well as alarm, shone in the almond eyes of Miss Jones. She snatched at a tree-trunk to hold herself, while the ragazzi began hauling on the chain which was round her ankle. She must have been apprehensive at what they might devise once she was in range of their hands, yet there was still an enigmatic slyness in the slant of her eyes under the high arch of her pencilled brows. In such a contest as this, there could be only one outcome. The superior power and the frantic eagerness of the Italian youths soon succeeded in towing this sly young grisette of yours over the mossy space by means of the chain attached to her ankle. Presently she was within reach of twenty-four willing hands which were thrust through the bars of the railings and which pulled her close up against the iron rails. What would they do to her now? One by one this group of a dozen lusty fellows unbuttoned and Miss Jones was menaced by a positive artillery of hard and veined erections. Yet they could not get through the railings and, however they held her, it would be almost impossible to penetrate her at the front or the rear. At first they were content to gather round and touch her through the bars, stroking her slim pale gold thighs, fondling her trim young breasts, handling the satiny flesh of her coppery round bottom-cheeks. To make her as randy as possible, and therefore more inclined to obey their commands, they emptied olive oil into their palms and began to massage her thickly with it. One lad preferred her breasts and performed prodigies of erecting her nipples, tweaking them a little and making her gasp with excitement.
He oiled the sensuous hollows under her arms, her neck and shoulders.
Other ragazzi oiled her legs, several of them working on her at the same time. They did not need to open her thighs by strength for Miss Jones was only too eager to spread them herself, though she made a show of pretending that she only did so under duress. They took turns to masturbate her with their oiled fingers, for it was only to be expected that several of them wanted to do this to her. The randy young wriggler was soon writhing so hard on the verge of her first climax that they had
to hold her down for fear she might roll away across the earth. Yet while they did so, there was yet another lad who gave his attention to oiling her bottom. It was not surprising that he should have chosen this aspect of Miss Jones's anatomy, for he was the same boy whom I had seen adoring her at her work several weeks earlier. His labour of love was undertaken with prolonged and amorous attention. He murmured to her all the time, trying to compliment her on the trim beauty of her copper-toned arse and hips.
He did not know the English word for prettiness, yet he knew that the French would have said “Jolie!” and so he complimented her in the nearest Anglo-Saxon term. “Jolly!” he gasped, “Jolly!…
Bottom-smack, now! Bottom-smack now, Jolly!” Suiting the action to the word, he reached right through the railings to give himself room and brought his hand down with a sharp smack on her sleekly oiled backside He spanked her quite hard and the smacks rang out across the lush warm gardens with their fragrance of southern blossoms. He made her gasp and writhe, while she still squirmed with excitement at what the other boys' fingers were doing between her legs. One had only to look at the expressions on the faces of these admirers to know that they were going to make this session last all night! Some of them were a little more furtive than others and could not quite bring themselves to thrust their manhood between the railings for her attention. They played a jig on their pipes in the shadows but could not resist allowing the melodious flow to fall in thick jets upon her belly and flanks, her breasts and thighs, until she was in a pretty state. Others were just able to extend between the bars so that she could hold the last two inches of the muzzle between her satiny gold thighs. She squeezed and rolled the stiff gristle on the inner surfaces of her thighs until, one after another, they poured out a lusty libation. Several of the rest found an answer by drawing her face to the bars, pinching her nose lightly to open her mouth and making Miss Jones suck them to exhaustion. I dare not even compute how many young spendings she must have swallowed down in the hours which followed! The admirer of young Miss Jones's posterior charms was indefatigable in his attentions to her. “Jolly!” he whispered to her, “Something up your bottom!” One knows very well what he would like to have put up her bottom! Alas, the thickness of the railings and the shape of the human anatomy made this impossible.
However, he had picked up a rather large china egg from the chicken coop and now dipped this in olive oil. I was watching the young minx then. Her dark almond eyes widened in surprise and her prim young mouth extended in a yell. That lad had been as good as his word. The china egg, with implacable pressure from his thumb, had vanished up her bottom and her anus had closed over it. The expression of alarm which broke the catlike mask of her beauty was not merely a reflection of the slight discomfort as she was stretched to accommodate the object. Miss Jones, like the rest of us, must have been frantic at the thought that she might not be able to expel the china egg without the aid of a physician. However, that was a matter which could be considered later when the night's fun was over and even the girl herself seemed to accept the danger philosophically enough for the moment. The young sprig who had done it to her was just able to extend his stiffness far enough between the railings to lay it between her bum-cheeks and oblige her to bring him off by squeezings and squirmings. I must say that I was relieved that they were unable to penetrate Miss Jones. So much passion was poured out before dawn lit the eastern sky above Malcesine and the cool lake that I cannot imagine she would have proved infertile. Who knows, in another year she might have been dandling a little jolly-girl upon her knee?
They bathed her with water from the water-trough in the olive grove and then began to oil her all over again. The adorer of her seat of beauty touched his lips to her coppery-smooth rear cheeks and urged the return of the china egg. He settled down to watch this prodigy and was greatly excited when, with some little difficulty, the randy wriggler restored it. “Jolly!” he gasped, “Bottom-smack!…
Bottom-smack now!” It was almost the whole extent of his English vocabulary and yet it seemed to cover most of the situations in which he was required to use the language. Yet I should not personally care to find myself in Italy with no greater fund of words than: “Bellissima!… Sculacciata… Sculacciata alfistante!” All the other young fellows seemed to find the idea greatly amusing, however.
The admirer made a little birch for Miss Jones by tying several apple switches at one end to form a handle. They held her kneeling over for him so that he could thrust his arm right through the railings and get some force into the strokes. As they fondled her arse and thighs, they echoed his broken English. “Jolly! Jolly!… Bottom-smack, now!… Bottom-smack now, Jolly!” One must remember that he had been really tantalised by her display behind the plate glass and that, by any standard, he was entitled to certain poetic revenge upon her for her taunting of him that afternoon. I would not, at any price, have intervened to save the randy little piece from that which she was now going to get. Though the Signore had had some fun with her himself, he was thoroughly enjoying the sight of what the ragazzi were now doing to her. The boy with the rod thrashed the birch down across the trim round cheeks of her pale gold bottom. There were frantic shrieks and squirmings, which only served to stiffen the young men and prolong the fun. She was soundly birched and then loved all over again, which occupied another hour or two. In their hot passion, they spared her nothing, either of pleasure or the rod. As the first light of dawn paled the thin cloud over Venice or Trieste, their voices still warned her teasingly to prepare for more tanning.
“Jolly!… Bottom-smack now, Jolly!” And then there rose the measured whip!… whip!… whip! of the birch across her backside, overlaid by the young bitch's wild shrillness.- It was the most exquisitely humorous display for those who know Miss Jones and her true disposition. I hope also that it has taught the young flirt a lesson. You need not feel in the least sorry for her, though she must have felt a little sore by the time that the boys withdrew and allowed her to unclip her ankle from the iron railing. That day we saw little of her, for she slept through the morning and into the afternoon. In the evening, however, she went out at twilight, before the wicked lads had made their way to the olive grove to watch her play with herself. She approached the fatal stretch of railing and stared at it with the impassive look of her almond eyes, the sharp young nose and the tall brow. Presently she undressed, even taking off her knickers and her breast-halter. To our surprise she tore these undergarments a little to make it seem that they had been wrenched from her in a struggle. Scattering the clothes about, she then lay down right against the railings. I need not tell you how my curiosity was whetted! She lay on her side with her back to the railings, placing several bangles and lengths of stout cord on the ground beside her. With her deft young fingers she tied her ankles firmly to one of the railings. She linked two bangles by another cord and closed one of the ornaments round her left wrist. The other bangle was still open. Yet she did not hesitate to place her right wrist in this and snap it shut by the pressure of her body. She had thus trussed herself up with her feet tied to the railings and her wrists securely linked together so that she could not free herself. Her only other adornment was a light slave-chain round her waist. Where it ran across the inward curve of sandy-gold skin, in the small of her back, she had an ornate name-disc. Yet this device, which hung suggestively just above the smooth and coppery swell of her bottom-cheeks, was picked out in a single word. JOLLY She settled down at once, her fingers playing between her legs, her arse curving at the railings, and squirmed with excitement as she awaited the arrival of her admirers. It will not surprise you, then, that I intend this little piece to be my servant on the journey to Ahmed Pasha! Indeed, I think I shall make him a present of her when the time comes. I leave in a few days and shall return here in the autumn before making my way back to England. Who knows what adventures I may have to relate to you, dear friend, when we are both safely back at our own firesides in Wight or Sulia? Your own adventures by then, of course, wil
l be as colourful as mine. It is not the distance travelled but the skill in seeking out pleasure which makes for the best narration. For the moment, then, ave atque vale!
Let it soon turn to vale atque ave! Your sincere and grateful friend, Maude, Lady J- Anonymous Augustus and Lady Maude XX. Mr. Bowler to Lady Maude Sulia 28 July My Lady, Mr. Bowler once again presents his humble duty to your ladyship and takes this opportunity of wishing your ladyship a bon voyage to the Levant.
In hopes that this letter may reach your ladyship at Gardone before departure, or may perhaps be forwarded, Mr. Bowler seeks only to assure you that all is well with your family and estate at Coombe.
The lower ponds have been drained and cleaned, the iris beds are cut down, and Fox Woods have been shot over, in accordance with your ladyship's instructions. The magistrates had before them last week a hoity-toity miss of nineteen with wide brown eyes and such a coquettish bun of dark hair. What a painted little face it was. Last Saturday afternoon she was mounted over the block. I wish you could have seen her walk toward it in her tight pants, her slim and agile thighs moving easily, Kim Roberts's buttocks so tautly rounded, swinging and swaying widely with the energy of the walk and the tilt of her black tall-heeled shoes. We had her strapped over the block for the entire afternoon. Old Mr. Snook stripped her and Kim Roberts's knickers have now joined those of so many other past loves in the desk of his study! Setting mirth aside, we then thrashed her repeatedly with bamboo and pony-lash, making it the severest of judicial punishments which she will remember every day of her life. I myself caned the lithe bare cheeks of Kim Roberts's bottom with exceptional severity, obliging her to scream from start to finish.
