Room 2D

By James Kenway from Janus 28 Gazing down from behind the glass I could see the girl crossing the patio below, hips swinging above the tapping high heels, the blonde mop topping the lot. It would take her a couple of minutes to come up in the lift, sway along the corridor and let herself in. I sat behind my desk, chair angled so that I faced the door. I wanted her to see me as soon as she entered. I had a few very serious words to say to this young lady and I wanted the psychological advantage of catching her by surprise. I glanced around my cluttered and untidy office with distaste. The place was scattered with overflowing ashtrays and half-filled stale coffee cups. File drawers were half open and papers higgledy-piggledy everywhere. What on earth did the girl do all day? I heard the lift chunk to a stop and the tap of her heels in the corridor. Even without that giveaway sound I would have been sure it was her. Mine was the on...

From Blushes Supplement 11 What was there to think about when a girl was made to wait for it except what she was being made to wait for! Your mind could wander off for a while — couldn’t help wandering, in fact, because if there was one thing about sitting on your bed and staring at the clock it was that it was boring — the trouble was though, the picture of what was about to happen to you and your bum, was the inevitable punctuation mark at the end of every escapist thought; right there in front of your eyes you saw yourself face down and bottom up, feeling the cane hovering behind you, ready to swipe down across your bum. You saw yourself being brave, not squealing or wriggling, and you pretended you saw it all over with — tears in your eyes, perhaps, and a tingle in your buttocks, but finished and done with — only that was a picture that you couldn’t hold clearly in your mind, because you knew it was a lie. You weren’t rea...

Another Wendy East enhancement — Wendy’s Training from Janus 45. There are certain girls (not very many of them) whose minds are so sweet and so warm and feminine and whose bodies at the same time are utterly succulently beautiful — that a man favoured with their friendship is apt to leap off into the deep end of his feelings. A girl like Wendy East, when she wants to love and be loved, can turn on a jet stream of emotion and sensation. The very least effect this can have on an older man is a vibrant revitalisation of him, probably, to be frank, accompanied by a reawakening of sexual potency on a scale lost sight of since adolescence. She is like a living dream, so tender and affectionate and generous; the wonderful erotic beauty of her body being matched by a throbbing sensuality that promises all possible delights untold. On her very first visit to Mr Stanton’s flat after they had met each other, Wendy kissed him softly but lin...