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Mary promptly took Beatrice's hands-her perturbation and nervousness were so great, that she could not resist-and led her, sobbing, to the couch.

"Take off your drawers, Miss," reiterated Mademoiselle, who invariably insisted on this self-degradation.

I had never seen Beatrice naked-naked as she would be to be whipped. I had, of course, been placed by her herself under her petticoats, but there was not sufficient light to see by, and, besides, she was pressed closely to my face. I longed to see her bottom and legs and thighs. That prospect filled me with exultation and I therefore resolved, at all hazards, to seize the opportunity, and to give her a thorough, downright flogging.

She would respect me all the more for it.

When Beatrice saw that Mademoiselle was inexorable she sobbed, but she knew resistance would be worse than futile. Still sobbing, she gathered up her skirts with both arms, unfastened the string of her drawers, and stepped out of them.

Mary laid her across the cushion and held her arms. She gathered up her dress and petticoats in front and at the back, and Mademoiselle placed a nice, new, green elastic birch in my hands.

I contemplated with rapture the plump, white thighs, the private parts, the curving back of my future wife now exposed to me for punishment.

"Now, Julia!" cried Mademoiselle.

I recollected how Mademoiselle had birched me, and how I had often been birched since, and resolved to better the instruction.

Maud and Agnes looked on with blanched faces and heaving bosoms. Mademoiselle moved in her chair in a way I understood. Mary was scarlet. I felt a strange kind of fire, a lust for flesh, thrill and bound in my veins, and I thirsted for blood.

Slowly and deliberately as Mary counted, with all my force I flogged Beatrice's bottom soundly. She yelled and screamed, and writhed, and twisted, but Mary held her fast. Before long she was reduced to the most abject submission. No obstinacy can withstand the birch.

The last strokes were given lengthwise, and I made the buds hit, and the supple twigs embrace that protuberance I had had to kiss. Beatrice shrieked at first, but then sobbed quietly, and seemed to go into a delirium of delight as the last stroke fell. She was thoroughly whipped in every sense.

"Now, Julia, come with me," ordered Mademoiselle with astonishing energy.

She led me straight with swift silence to her boudoir, the happy scene of my first initiation, of my first experiences.

Once there, she, apparently beside herself, tore off my dress with a divine fury which alarmed me. She threw me down on my back with enrapturing violence upon the large yielding divan and its great soft cushions. For one instant she contemplated me there in my disorder before her. The next, with a deep and satisfied inspiration, she gathered up my garments with both her arms and tossed them over my breast. I made no resistance. I was conscious of my nakedness, but made no attempt to conceal it. Then she threw herself upon me and gathered me to her warm bosom, her breath fanning my face. She had lifted her own skirts and against my nakedness I felt her own.

I was at her disposal completely; her face above mine, her form close to my own. I felt every emotion that thrilled her as she toyed with my being as the wind toys with a feather. I was carried away by the vehemence of her passion. She placed herself upon me and I knew that our physical organisations were joined, were united, had become one.

With what force, with what rapture, with what transport she threw herself upon me, how hard and quick her breath came and went, how her eyes swam, how her lips clung to mine, with what vigour she moved to and fro, up and down, exciting me to an enormous size and pressing me vigorously and relentlessly home!

"Now, Julia-now-if-if-you don't-at once-I will whip you, I will whip your-bottom-until-until it bleeds-I will flog it."

I did not need this spur. I clasped her sweet crushing form. I twined my legs round it and I gladly and with profligate rapture exposed myself to the full fury of the storm.

Oh! Oh! Oh!

And the lovely girl sank yet more closely and more intimately into my embrace.

What a strange circumstance that the sight and infliction, even the thought, of whipping should produce and inspire such a tornado of passion.

I felt, no doubt, that it was seeing me whip Beatrice that had so inflamed Mademoiselle, but I recollected the flame in her eyes when during our drive she had told me how, if necessary, she would correct me. Beatrice's whipping had only brought about the climax.

This was my first experience of an embrace since my circumcision; and it was eminently satisfactory.

To my supreme surprise and delight I found the entrance into paradise much easier, the contact with my mistress much closer, I could preserve it longer, and my power was greater; whilst the annoyance and discomfort caused by the forcible retraction of the tight skin had altogether vanished.

Mademoiselle, in her entrancing disorder, looked into my eyes and kissed me again and again. Her thick hair had partly fallen. Her lovely limbs in their exquisite underclothing were visible to my enraptured eyes which dwelt on their shape; and I was happy to be oppressed by them.

"Did you enjoy whipping Beatrice, Julia?" she asked mischievously as she stood up, her hands behind her head, re-knotting her magnificent hair.

"Yes," I answered, with a smile.

"Naughty girl! Have I made you happy?"

"Oh, Mademoiselle! Oh, my darling!"

"No, I am your mistress, Julia!"

"My darling mistress, then."

"My yoke is heavy, is it not, Julia?"

"Love makes it light," I replied-a reply for which I got another kiss.

Mademoiselle's passion lasted long. Although she would not then permit me a second embrace, yet its fires were not all assuaged or extinguished.

Before dressing for dinner she bathed. That night I was ordered to spend in her bed.

There was no preparatory ordeal on this occasion, but I had to take up the same quarters as on the first, down under the bedclothes, under and amongst the skirts of her night robe, my head between her legs, at once my pillows and my gaolers. I kissed her frequently, but she did not let me again explore the grove, or the recesses of the humid temple of the Cyprian goddess, which existed hidden in its luxuriant growth, except with my tongue. To do that, however, was the task imposed upon me and exacted rigorously.

In the morning, when I awoke, Mademoiselle had already arisen.

CHAPTER 20

Not A Wedding Ring

It is an ill wind that blows nobody good! The advantage of the operation I had undergone did not only lie in the greater ease and comfort with which I employed the best agent and the cleverest advocate of my feelings, but also in the fact that I ran no risk of having him flayed out of mere wantonness-an act Elise had perpetrated on me on more than one occasion.

Neither my cousins nor Elise could now slip their hands up my petticoats, excite Mons. Priapus, and retract his covering, leaving him raw and bald until they were pleased to re-hood him, or to permit me to do so myself.

But his head now reminded me of a vulture clothed with plumage up to the neck and bare beyond. In fact Elise made some remark of the kind as she dressed me and suggested that she should make a nice, soft warm cap for the poor chap. I did not respond either "yes" or "no."

In all respects I was now treated as a girl. All day long my ideas, wishes, and desires about exercise, about reading, about work, about sport, were pruned down, and assumed, as a matter of course, to be those which should influence the actions and life of a young lady of my age. What yet remained of my masculine propensities suffered great repression from this process.

It was a masterly measure and decidedly checked flirtation. But Mons. Priapus-abnormal or not-was there and free. And four or five days after the first day when Mademoiselle had admitted that I was restored to health I must narrate that certain appearances had (under extenuating circumstances, undoubtedly-a peeping ankle will do so much mischief) made themselves remarkable in front, just underneath the end of my corset, lifting my petticoats and skirts in a peculiar manner, making quite a little mound in front, and raising the garments higher off the ground than usual, and also further away from me so that they stuck out. 260