Darcourt got up and came in front of her to watch the voluptuous scene in the mirror under her. It was a symphony of black, pink, red, and other fleshy tones. And also an erotic vision of a voluptuous enema…
Darcourt put a crystal vase in Monique's hands. From its bottom ran a pipe that was adjusted to the nozzle, and it dug into Monique's ass.
“My friends,” he said, “we are going to drink to the return among us of our favorite child. Therefore, we shall pour a little bit of liquid out of our glasses into hers. Cheers, little girl…” And Darcourt poured half of the content of his glass into the transparent vase.
One by one they all did the same thing, and soon Monique felt the cold liquid come weakly in her burning belly.
“And now, let us raise our glasses for a toast in her honor, and let delightful child drink with us.”
Monique saw the men raising their glasses towards her, and she hesitated a little bit. Then, at her turn, she raised slowly the limpid vase, containing the sparkling and cold liquid. They emptied their glasses, but at the same time they were all looking attentively at the level of the liquid in the vases that Monique was holding in her hands. They were fascinated by the slow progression of the liquid into her burning inside, as if sucked by some mysterious force. They could all imagine the liquid flowing into her most intimate flesh, softly sparkling in her guts. Monique, her eyes closed, was enjoying that new pleasure and a fresh sensation was coming in her.
Soon enough the vase was empty, but Darcourt lifted it up so that no drop would be lost then he removed the tube from the extremity of the nozzle. The nozzle alone was emerging from her insides like a thick licorice lollipop out of a pink and greedy mouth.
They took all their time to admire that pornographic vision, and Monique felt a delightful warmth grow in her, but she was getting tipsy. She looked imploringly at Darcourt; he understood, and came to her, and slowly removed the nozzle, then he showed her to the bathroom where he left her alone.
When she came back soon after, she found all the guests dressed only in black bathrobes under which it was apparent that they wore nothing. On the ground a large mirror was laying flat, surrounded by little lamps. Dar-court brought Monique there standing up, and while he was embracing her, they could all see behind them, her intimate parts reflected by the mirror.
Darcourt was caressing her breast over the bodice, and little by little he removed the material and allowed the teats to point freely in the air. They were enormous, the nipples hardened by excitation. Soon her torso was naked, and she only had her hat left. They all admired that wonderful young bust and then gave it their best caresses. All that sucking and petting succeeded in exciting the young girl.
Then they slowly removed her frock. It went sliding to the ground, and she was naked, a splendid symbol of youth and maturity at the same time, but also of lust and voluptuousness. She kept her legs tight so that her sex would not show in the mirror. She refused to take them apart, but Darcourt, opening his bathrobe appeared completely naked, his gigantic tool slowly balancing over the bouncy testicles. Getting closer to her, a whip in his hands, he placed himself sideways of an anxious Monique.
“Open your thighs!”
A short command that she had already heard so often, that order that always revolted her a little was also the command that excited her the most. It found no echo in the silent room.
Monique was not moving; her hands crossed over her breasts, she was looking at the others who were contemplating the mirror, and the inverted reflection of her nakedness. She was a delightful pink and black statue, with the little black curls covering her mount of Venus.
The whip swished through the air, and the supple lashes tightened their grip around the firm buttocks. The young girl's body shivered and she tightened her lips. Another blow hit her, harder this time, but her only reaction was a slow tensing of her opulent bottom under the contact of the leather. Then with a regular pace, Darcourt flagellated her bouncy flesh. The lashes were falling on the skin, encircling the globes with their burning hands, making the naked skin look pinker and redder at each blow. Darcourt was not hitting very hard, and Monique, used to Sylvie's passion, was bearing very easily that more humiliating than painful beating. She closed her eyes, and let herself get dizzy under the warmth that crept through her body.
Pitiless, the whip was continuing its infernal movement against the soft flesh, but now Darcourt, getting nervous, hit harder, and the lashes began to hurt the already burning skin. Monique felt a burning on her bottom, and she started twisting and undulating her body, gyrating her body faster and faster.
The men were not looking at the young girl, their eyes were not leaving the mirror. They could see the lower part of the buttocks, and of the heavy breasts, undulating and shivering at each blow from the whip against that juvenile body. They were expecting the movement that would oblige her to open her legs and display fully the flesh of her cunt to their impatient looks. They knew that cunt already, but this time it was a new pleasure for them because this time the young girl was refusing herself, and the idea that she would be forced to display completely and without any possibility of defense her most secret parts renewed completely the charm of the experience.
Darcourt was hitting harder, and each blow was punctuated by a deeper moan. The body throbbed, twisted, shaken with spasms; sometimes the girl was bending, and then the men could see between the propped-up buttocks a little piece of her sex, the end of the slit, and a few fair hairs. But they wanted more, and Darcourt, with an increasing strength, was lashing and whipping the pulpy globes. The buttocks were now covered with purple welts. Monique was hiding her face between her folded arms, freeing her breasts that were slowly bouncing on her chest. But she moaned and cried when the lashes started hurting her deeply and reaching the side of her pubis.
“Open,” Darcourt repeated. He lashed harder. “Open!” And the whip landed on the bent belly. OPEN, the word was sounding louder and louder in Monique's ears, while she was struggling against desire, excitation, and dizziness… Open… Open… Open…
Then, in front of the guests, whose shining eyes were the witnesses of their desires, Monique, her arms wide open, moaning and panting under the more violent whipping, suddenly opened her legs, and in the compass of her black silk covered legs her cunt appeared.
A pink slit, whose lips were overdeveloped by the other girls' suckings, by Sylvie's and by her own frequent masturbation, surrounding the love bud, of a whiter complexion hidden by the fair hair, and finally the pucked and narrow mouth, hurt by the rough contact of the whip's lashes, hidden between the round buttocks, swollen by the flagellation.
“More… “
And the whip danced again, and the legs opened wider. Darcourt stopped. In the silent but anticipatory atmosphere of the room, they were all contemplating the show and they were all shivering and trembling with emotion when they realized that it was a virgin who was displaying her virginity in the most lubric and obscene pose.
They took all their time to fill their eyes with the lusty sight. Then they disrobed behind Monique; Darcourt forced her to remove her hands from her face and whispered to her:
“Little darling, let me, rely on me…”
He blindfolded her with a scarf. She could feel his nakedness glued to hers. She implored:
“No, I am scared. What do you intend to do?”
“Hush, little girl, keep the blindfold just for a little while, and once again, rely on me.”
She uttered a faint cry, and then gave up and let them do whatever they wanted to do with her. She could not see the guests who, one by one, were kneeling in front of her and kissing her mass of fair pubic hair. She felt their warm breath and the passion of their kisses. She realized that she was turned over on a leather pouf, lying in Darcourt's arms, her legs folded. Hands were holding her ankles widely separated. She guessed easily the shameful picture that she was offering to the other's eyes. They freed her ankles and Dar-court whispered by her ear: