Room 2D

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...

Photo-story from Janus 83 featuring lovely Page 3 girl Vida Garman as Dulcie. Pushing a broom. Dulcie in overalls. Tat. Sweat. Hair tied back with a scrappy ribbon. The floorboards and walls are bare. Stark. He will bark at me: ‘Work!’ He looks through the door into the room. Sees her stooping, lacklustrely prodding the bristles against the floor. Poor! Idle! What are muscles and sinews for? A roar: ‘Put some effort into it!’ He marches in and stands severe behind her ‘You’re not even trying! I get the impression you hardly care! But you’d better, my girl — oh, you’d better!’ She reapplies herself to her task, leans down, shoves the broom a little harder. Having him standing there like that, acutely critical of her every movement, makes her legs feel watery and her whole self cumbersome and clumsy. Under his censorious glare Dulcie strives to do what she feels is her best, making little grunting sounds to show hi...