We went up together to the bedroom with its walls panelled in pink silk, the damask cover of the wide bed, the mirrors which conveniently reflected that arena of pleasure, and the eight bright bulbs of the electrolier which illuminated its languors. Dinner had ended an hour before, the servants having cleared away and gone to bed in their own part of the building. The two girls were dressed informally, as they had been when they left work for the last time.
Sonja matched her brown tan and cropped dark curls with the pink blouse, the little white ankle-boots, and the short turquoise skirt which left bare the brown, agile form of her calves. Petra was more simply attired in her white blouse and a plain short skirt of blue denim. Picture me, then, as ring-mistress with these two charming performers in the ring. The long curtains were drawn across to hide our enjoyments from prying eyes. Then each girl undid her skirt and blouse, removing both garments and hanging them neatly in their places. They stood before me, each clad in nothing but a skimpy white breast-halter and matching briefs of white cotton web, stretched tight over hips, loins and seat. “I must put you to bed, my pets,” I said, taking no care to conceal my amusement in this game. “Lie on the bed dressed just as you are. Sonja, lie with your head towards this end and Petra, my child, lie with your head towards the other. You shall sleep head-to-tail tonight-if you find any leisure to sleep at all!” They obeyed without any real sign of reluctance. Sonja put her knee on the bed and climbed over to her side. She settled the shock of her dark curls at the centre and stretched out her bare limbs which are brown as a gypsy's after so much sun. Petra followed more bashfully, first putting her hands behind her head and forming a collar-length pony-tail of her lank flaxen hair which she secured with an ordinary rubber band. Eighteen-year-old Petra arranged herself so that she lay facing Sonja, head-to-tail. The posture kept each girl's face level with her friend's hips. To complete this charming ensemble I enforced a degree of amorous bondage upon them, Round each girl's waist is a light gold chain, its ends welded so that it cannot be removed. About each pretty neck I now clipped a broad leather collar from which ran another twelve inches or so of chain.
This I locked round the shapely partners waist. So our pretty pair were condemned to pass the night in their present suggestive manner, each pillowing her head on the others nips or backside. Each girl's field of vision was almost filled by the charming prospect presented by the other's hips, backside, and upper thighs. Though still wearing their white stretch-briefs, each was obliged to present herself to the face of the other in an appealing upwards squat!
Under the level fringe of her blond hair, Petra's face coloured a little as I took the waistband of her briefs and drew them down to the mid-point of her slim lightly suntanned thighs. I did not remove the briefs altogether, jack, for there is something more provocative about a girl like Petra with her panties down round her thighs than with her lower body entirely naked. Under the occasional rudeness of her manner in the shop, one finds a true sense of vulnerable innocence in Petra's blue-green eyes. She was self-consciously aware that even the more roughly-used and easily-blemished part of her knickers was under Sonja's immediate gaze. Sonja's round gypsy-brown face looked at me with blue eyes expecting the same treatment. I smiled at this.
“You shall keep your pants on for the moment, Sonja. Content yourself with enjoying your view of Petra!” Indeed, the collar-chain which attached her to the gold links round the young blonde's bare waist gave Sonja no chance to turn from her contemplation. Her cheek rested on the taut slimness of Petra's upper thigh. Her eyes confronted the younger girl's trim nymph-like buttocks, and of course the lips of the cunt between her legs with their stray tendrils of fair hair. On these occasions, Jack, when I am in full command of my two slaves, I am as strict in one respect as any English prude. I do not allow either Sonja or Petra to masturbate. Their hands are fastened so that each may play with the other but not with herself. So now a leather cuff went round each wrist and a light chain from each attached it to the other girl's waist again. There was no limit to what one girl's mouth or fingers might perform upon the other's sensitive part. Yet neither girl could reach far enough to gratify herself. Had I been in a wicked mood, Jack, I should have arranged matters a little differently. Having mixed a strong aphrodisiac in the dinner coffee I would have had them trussed in this posture but with their wrists strapped behind their backs and their collar-leads holding them back from even the lightest kiss. Then each girl must have itched for relief and seen the other's beauties of hips and thighs before her eyes, while having no power to ease the erotic anguish of herself or her companion. I promise you, dearest, that my plans for Petra and Sonja include such a restless night of amorous torment. Yet this was not to be the occasion of it.
I watched them for a little while as they lay waiting on the bed.
I had determined to see if it was possible to light Sonja's “fuse” and by so doing cause the “explosion” of love in Petra without ever touching her myself. I sat at the middle of the bed, stroking Petra's blonde fringe as she pillowed her fair-skinned beauty on the fuller curve of Sonja's brown thigh. Her view of Sonja was rather as if Petra had been looking up at the open seat of a chair on which the young woman sat. Though Sonja's white briefs still moulded the “landscape,” the rear opening of her thighs was but four or five inches from Petra's blue-green eyes. The firmly-rounded cheeks of Sonja's bottom were clearly and separately presented in the fight cotton-as was the soft bulge of her pussy-flesh between her legs.
Gazing down the length of her own body towards me, Sonja's blue eyes looked wonderingly from her pert brown face with its shock of dark curls. I smiled at her, holding her questioning gaze as I gave a light pinch to the soft pussy-flesh through the cotton gusset of the panties. A quick tremor of her body was followed by the young woman straining her hips back to open her rear access more fully. Using the back opening of her thighs, so that Petra would see everything, I began to masturbate Sonja gently through the stretched cotton web of her white panties. “You're well used to this, my dear,” I murmured to her as I stroked and squeezed lightly, “You like to play with yourself, Sonja, don't you? Yes, you do. You like it very much!
Petra, my innocent child, watch closely! There's a good girl! See how my fingers find the slit in Sonja's cunt and rub up and down it through the cotton knickers?… Is that nice, Sonja? Is it? Let your lubrication begin to come. You needn't be bashful about moistening your briefs. I'm sure it's happened before when you've been played with… You like watching Sonja masturbated, Petra? Do you? See how she needs it!… Can you feel how you're wetting yourself, Sonja? I must show Petra your juice on my fingers. Oh, you little innocent, Petra! Don't try to turn your face away… Very well, then, I must hold you by your little tail of hair and make you breathe in the scent of Sonja's arousal!” Sonja's fuse, having smouldered for so long, now burst into flame.-When I held my fingers still she rode her hips to and fro on them, frantic for the rubbing between her legs.
“I'm sure some lucky man had fun with you, Sonja! What a juicy ride! Ah, some more on to my fingers then!… Now you shall wait while I ease it off on the back of your thigh… But you must be more passionate than this before we take down your panties, Sonja!” I had scarcely spoken these words when Petra gave a startled but grateful little cry. Sonja, frantic to do as she was done by, had buried her face in the rear of the blonde's slim thighs and was kissing Petra's fair-haired cunt-lips hungrily. How many times, I wonder, had she done this in reality or fantasy behind the photographer's studio? “Do it better than that, Sonja!” I said with mock severity, “Otherwise I shall give you a smacked bottom and no more fun! Tickle Petra's clitoris with your tongue! Properly! Then you may tongue-diddle her if you wish.” When the tongue-tip touched her sensitive little clitoris, eighteen-year-old Petra was the most quivering, half-hysterical nymph. She shrieked as if in the most atrocious torment-a sure proof of the near alliance of pleasure and pain in the human sensibility. I stroked her lank fair hair reassuringly. “Don't hold back, Petra, my sweet! Scream in your joy, if you wish! There is no shame in that-only a great release!”