Stretched out as she was, it was now impossible for her to see what was going on behind her. I knew that I was truly going to enjoy myself with Claudia, and this expectation stiffened my prick so monstrously that I had to unbutton myself and release it. I chose a long and supple cane which would have raised panic in the hardest reformatory girl-and I opened the jar of vaseline. I pulled the black velveteen singlet well up to enjoy a view of Claudia's lightly suntanned back with the delicate and intricate bone-pattern of its vertebrae. “Do your teachers in Germany never undress you like this for punishment, Claudia? No? I'm sure they must want to. Any man with a pretty pupil like you wants to use the cane across her bare bottom.” The swollen knob of my prick touched the sheen of her briefs, nodding against a well-rounded cheek. “I shall take your briefs down now, Claudia. You'll feel the punishment more exquisitely from having the bamboo across your bare buttocks.” I took the waistband where it dented the soft flesh of her hips and stripped the green briefs down and off. The broadened young cheeks of Claudia's backside in this posture were more obviously swelling into firm femininity. I still maintain, Dolly, that it is at fifteen or so that many German beauties are most appealing in this part. Too often another ten years add a fatness to their behinds which is a little excessive for my taste. J opened a drawer of the desk between Claudia's pretty knees, obliging her to keep her legs six inches apart at that point. My hands touched the cool smoothness of her nymphlike buttocks, pressing the oval cheeks apart. I laid my finger on the little bud-hole of Claudia's anus. “I shall have to take your temperature here, Claudia, with an arse-thermometre. Before and after your chastisement:” Claudia's rear hole seemed to go suddenly very small and tight. Was it the threat of the thermometre or the touch of my finger? I slipped a hand between her legs and cupped her light-haired cunt in it. “I must also examine your fitness to receive chastisement by testing here, Claudia. I prefer not to cane a girl who is too greatly aroused. She may become hysterical or else manage to distract herself from being hurt. I think you like to masturbate, don't you, Claudia? How often do you play with yourself?”
All girls do so, Dolly, so the question is one which always has an answer. But almost always, as with Claudia, the confusion of the girl on being asked makes speech well-nigh impossible. “Answer, please, Claudia! Otherwise I must cane you and then send you back to your parents!” “I do it!” she gasped in her charmingly awkward English. “Where do you like to do it, Claudia?… In bed?… In the toilet?… In the bath?” She nodded submissively at each of these as I fondled her between the legs. “And when did you last play with yourself, Claudia?” “L-L-ast night!” The answer was gasped out after a pause. I knelt and began to nuzzle my lips over her lithe young thighs, for she had read that some “instrument” was applied here before punishment. Her knees being held apart, I feasted long on those two soft little swellings on the inner surfaces, just below the joining of her legs. I gave a little wash with my tongue. Claudia had just returned from the beach and so the soft flesh had the tang of the sea and the mineral tastes of a girl of fifteen.
Standing up again I manualised her cunt gently, under the pretext of looking for signs of her own masturbation. In five minutes more, Claudia was yielding her slippery love-dew. “Dear me,” I said severely, “You must have the medical speculum put up you, Claudia, in order that we may determine the extent of this moral disorder.” I assured her that the instrument would be warmed first, so that she might not cramp from the cold. Standing behind her, I guided the swollen knob of my erection between the rear of her thighs, parted the lips of her cunt with it, and felt myself grasped by a slippery velvet tightness. I had the greatest difficulty, Dolly, in not crying out with joy or panting hard. “We must probe you for five or ten minutes, Claudia. In the modem world, a whipping is a matter of careful science. It would never do for you to enjoy such a state between your legs when you have been brought here to suffer pain from the bamboo. We shall use the speculum to help you get such things out of your system before the caning begins.” Having delivered this load of claptrap, I began to ride gently in and out, trying to control my sounds of enjoyment as best I could. It was Claudia who came first, however. With rising whimpers of pleasure and sharper little cries, she scaled the peak of her ecstasy, squirming against the desk over which she was strapped, and yielding at last in a long, convulsive shudder. Picture me, Dolly, with my prick withdrawn and waving about, still stiff as a flagpole. I must bed it somewhere and spend-even if my reward should be the Pentonville gallows next day.
“Now the thermometre, Claudia,” I panted, “we must ensure that you have not overheated yourself.” I took a dollop of vaseline from the jar, touched it to Claudia's arsehole, and applied the knob.
I was so maddened that I obliged her to open almost at once- though with a sharp cry of alarm from the girl. Under various pretexts of taking her temperature, I buggered Claudia for ten minutes more, relishing the tightness of her adolescent arsehole round my shaft. The exercise evoked that rear view of her kneeling on all fours by the pier and presenting the smooth seat of her green bathing briefs.
Claudia's cropped hair twisted vainly to and fro as she tried to see exactly what this strange thermometre was. At last I released my spurting jet deep in her backside, causing her to cry out again with alarm at this sensation. How the devil would I explain the “accident” to her? I withdrew my prick and managed a forced laugh. “You little minx, Claudia!” I panted, “Why, you overheated the poor thermometre so much that some of the mercury spurted out through the little escape hole! How fortunate it was in your backside and not in your throat.”* Did she believe me, Dolly? I did not care then and, to be frank with you, I do not much care now. I have long thought that the only safety for me is to do as our friend Lord Frederick has done. When he left England and bought a plantation upon which “slaves” might still be held, I was half inclined to follow his example. When the “slaves” are girls of every prettiness, I cannot find a word to say against the system. Perhaps the authorities are more easy-going in Germany but here I often feel that my little enjoyments will one day put prison bars between me and the rest of the world-and I an officer and a gentleman! However, I am wandering from my subject. I now closed the drawer of the desk in order to strap Claudia's lithe young legs together. I took the long bamboo and swished it once or twice through the air for effect. Then I measured it across the firm young cheeks of Claudia's bare bottom. Oh, I assure you, Dolly, now I was the sternest of moralists with my prick at ease. And I was greatly enjoying it. “Keep your bottom quite still, Claudia. Don't tense the cheeks, you little bitch. You were keen enough to show your backside on the beach in those little green bathing pants weren't you, Claudia? Oh, yes you were. Fifty cuts of the bamboo across that nubile young backside, Claudia. I'm sure the teachers in the Dusseldorf classroom would envy me now.” I brought the bamboo down with an expert lash across the bare cheeks of the young nymph's bottom.
Claudia gasped at the agony of the naked smart. A splendid red stripe began to glow. I thrashed low down, where her softer buttocks and firmer thighs meet in a faint crease. Claudia cried out and I aimed with malicious excitement across that same stripe again-and again. My attentions raised a crimson weal across this place and drove her half frantic. Yet to increase the effect of the caning, I wanted the German nymph to feel that the bamboo had drawn blood in its first few strokes-and to fill her with horror at what lay ahead. She had asked for the cane and she would get it. I aimed again across the dangerously raised welt and this time a precious droplet rose and ran down the back of Claudia's firm young thigh. Our lithe adolescent nymph may have begged for a caning rather than the disgrace of being reported to her parents. Yet the bamboo had now branded the pale spread ovals of Claudia's fifteen-year-old bottom-cheeks with several vivid weals. As the cane drew a red droplet or two on the soft undercurve of her young arse, Claudia screamed loudly enough to be heard all the way to the Rhineland. Desperately she strained against the broad black straps which pinioned her legs and ankles, and which tethered her wrists. Let there be no hypocrisy between us, Dolly.