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She nodded her head in answer.

"Then get the little comb off my dresser and bring it here,” I said.

She returned in a moment. “Now I shall find out if you really want to be my slave,” I said. “Kneel between my thighs and comb the curls there; my former maid used to do it for me, so you need not fear hurting me."

This, undoubtedly, was the first time she had ever so closely examined a woman's sex, and I thrilled as I watched her stare at it. After a moment or two, I said, “You like doing that, Rose?"

"Oh, yes!” came the ready answer. “You are so pretty!"

"That's what my lover says. Of course, I have no lover here, but I am going to have one pretty soon. They all like to find fine, silky hairs about a woman's pussy.” I let this sink in, then: “Do you think mine pretty, Rose?"

"It's beautiful!” She breathed the words.

"Back in Pest,” I went on, “I had a lover who admired it so much he was never satisfied unless he lay between my thighs and imprinted little kisses on it! Wasn't that about the strangest thing ever?"

I could, of course, command her to gamahuche me. Like the girls Bernice had purchased from the Budapest prison, Rose was, in reality, my slave, to do with as I saw fit, but I preferred to bring her on in easy stages. I had learned that it was far better to allow one to creep before asking one to walk. She hadn't answered my question, so I said, “Don't you think it a strange thing for one to do to another?"

She shook her head. “Most of the girls did it-where you found me."

"Indeed. And have you ever done anything like that to another?"

She shook her head. “Once a girl asked me! But she was dirty. She beat me, but still I would not."

"But I'm not dirty, am I?” I asked, smiling down into her eyes.

"No. You're beautiful!” she answered.

"Naughty,” I whispered, moving my hips a little to keep her eyes riveted to that part of me.

It had the desired result. The comb dropped from her hand, and she settled down upon the floor, her eyes glued to my cunny.

Through half-closed lids, I watched her for a long moment, then whispered, “Kiss it, Rose!"

And so began the education of the lovely little Rose. She was a novice, true, but a willing one, and ten minutes later I bathed her tongue with a profuse spend! After that, she confessed that though she had never done it before, she loved it.

Satisfied for the moment, I fell into a peaceful sleep. Opening my eyes, I found her at my side. “Still love me, Rose?” I asked. When she nodded, I said, “Then get on your knees and kiss my cunt again!” I thought it would surely be a shock to the pretty girl, but it apparently had no effect upon her sensitive nature. And I believe she would have kept up the play all night had I not put a stop to it.

The ice having been broken, so to speak, I made her take my place-and you can imagine the rest. Afterward, we lay side by side on a couch, and I learned still more of her life. But I won't tire you with that. Enough to say that her incarceration had been a trumped-up charge, a plot to connect her with the murder of a man she never saw; and it was my efforts alone which saved her from a life a thousand times more wicked than that which I prescribed for her.

All in all, I believed I was fortunate in getting such a talented girl for a maid, and beginning that very day, she proved in a hundred ways that she was willing to do anything for me.

That night I took her into my bed. I talked to her for hours about my lovers; I told her I might call upon her to entertain me even when visited by my friends; I told her I was going to make some “great monster of a man” fuck her-and to all of this she willingly agreed.

Together we spent three weeks there, and then, feeling healthy and much refreshed, I returned to Pest.

The show reopened in a blaze of glory; I met all my old friends and many new ones. I received a call from Bernice and, naturally, I welcomed her with open arms. I thought her more beautiful than ever, and it was due to her efforts that I learned more about the inner life of our talented and wealthy Europeans.

During the course of her visit, I happened to mention that I had never seen the interior of a house such as hers. “Then why not pay me the honor of a visit to mine?” she said.

Anna, who was present, said, “Before going to Bernice's home, why not visit some of the other places first? Then you will appreciate the splendor and beauty of hers."

"A capital idea,” seconded her pretty sister. “I haven't had a real outing since you took sick."

And so it was arranged. But there was more to it than just getting up and going. All the places, as I was to learn, were not like the famed house Bernice maintained, and a visit to most of them required something more than just merely opening a door and entering.

And so it became necessary to make a certain amount of preparation for the night's fun, and the witty, fun-loving sisters provided the necessary answer to it. First, we needed to provide ourselves with men's attire. Also, we had to wear little masks and long black capes.

The following night after the show, we started out. All preparations having been made by the thoughtful girls, we entered a carriage that was waiting at the exit of the theater. I noted, too, that one preceded us while another followed. I said nothing of my suspicions for some time, but seeing that all three coaches maintained the same positions, I finally called attention to it.

Nina said, “Have no fears, my dear; just a little protection in case things get unruly."

It must be remembered, my friend, that at that time there were a great many houses operating in the various cities throughout Europe, and since the police were lax in their vigilance (it seemed to be general knowledge that the police owned many of them) it was only fair to assume that some of these dens housed the more criminal element who were forever on the alert to trap the less wily. Hence the two carriage-loads of masculine protection.

We visited five of these dens that night, and a few brief descriptions of them wouldn't be out of place here.

The first one, a den that was entered by descending a flight of stone steps, was of the more common type found throughout Pest. It was a cheap drinking place frequented by the lower class of girls who resided in the neighborhood, and where their favors could be purchased for drinks. There were no private rooms, no darkened corners where the couples might converse in private. Everything was done more or less openly and, as is common in such places, fights occurred with startling regularity. Enough of that place.

We had started, as one might guess, with visiting the more degraded places. The second one, while no less dangerous, was a little better. This was the meeting place for the working, or middle-class, girls and young men, and was less conspicuous. I mean that little rooms were provided, each with a curtain, and a steady parade of couples entered and left them.

You must think we looked strangely out of place, but keep in mind that we were wearing men's attire, masks, and long opera capes, and since members of the “upper class” were continually visiting these places, it wasn't at all uncommon to find visitors dressed somewhat like ourselves.

The next place, though a little better, furnished us with a little bit of excitement. It also proved to us that our “guards” were ever on the alert. We were approached by one of the other visitors to the place who asked for a drink. This girl was of the medium type, and after perching herself on the edge of the table and going through the formality of adjusting a garter-a little trick common among them when they wanted to flaunt their wares upon an unsuspecting wayfarer-she asked one of us if we wouldn't buy her a drink. That in itself wasn't at all out of the way, and we would have gladly done so, had not something else happened at that moment.

Before we could summon a waiter, we were approached by a villainous looking man who promptly insisted that we were trying to steal his darling girl. The altercation was cut short by the timely appearance of a stranger who promptly delivered the would-be troublemaker into the waiting arms of his mistress. The scowling face of our rescuer seemed to convince the callow fellow that it would be far better for him to take his girl and leave.