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You have my permission now to satisfy your hunger, and look about a bit in Florence. If I need you then, I will have you called.” I looked at the Duomo, the Palazzo Vecchio, the Logia di Lanzi, and then I stood for a long time on the banks of the Arno. Again and again I let my eyes rest on the magnificent ancient Florence, whose round cupolas and towers were drawn in redhead young teen sex soft lines against the blue, cloudless sky. I watched its splendid bridges beneath whose wide arches the lively waves of the beautiful, yellow river ran, and the green hills which surrounded the city, bearing slender cypresses and extensive buildings, palaces and monasteries.

It is a different world, this one in which we are—a gay, sensuous, smiling world. The landscape too has nothing of the seriousness and somberness of ours. It is a long ways off to the last white villas scattered among the pale green of the mountains, and yet there isn’t a spot that isn’t bright with sunlight. The people are less serious than we; perhaps, they think less, but they all look as though they were happy. It is also maintained that death is easier in the South.

I have a vague feeling now that such a thing as beauty without thorn and love of the senses without torment does exist. Wanda has discovered a delightful little villa and rented it for the winter. It is situated on a charming hill on the left bank of the Arno, opposite the Cascine. It is surrounded by an attractive garden with lovely paths, grass plots, and magnificent meadow of camelias. It is only two stories high, quadrangular in the Italian fashion.

An open gallery runs along one side, a sort of loggia with plaster-casts of antique statues; stone steps lead from it down into the garden. From the gallery you enter a redhead young teen sex bath with a magnificent marble basin, from which winding stairs lead to my mistress’ bed-chamber. A room on the ground floor has been assigned to me; it is very attractive, and even has a fireplace.

On a round hillock I discovered a little temple, but I found its door locked. However, there is a chink in the door and when I glue my eye to it, I see the goddess of love on a white pedestal.

It seems to me as if she were smiling at me saying: “Are you there? I have been expecting you.” * * * * * It is evening. An attractive maid brings me orders to appear before my mistress. I ascend the wide marble stairs, redhead young teen sex pass through the anteroom, a large salon furnished young tiny amature teen virgin anal naked sex pics with extravagant magnificence, and knock at the door of the bedroom. I knock very softly for the luxury displayed everywhere intimidates me. Consequently no one hears me, and I stand for some time in front of the door. I have a feeling as if I were standing before the bed-room of the great Catherine, and it seems as if at any moment she might come out in her green sleeping furs, with the red ribbon and redhead young teen sex decoration on her bare breast, and with her little white powdered curls. “I was standing in front of redhead young teen sex the door, but you didn’t hear me knock,” I reply timidly.

She closes the door, and clinging to me, she leads me to the red damask ottoman on which she had been resting. The entire arrangement of the room is in red damask—wall-paper, curtains, portieres, hangings of redhead young teen sex the bed.

A magnificent painting of Samson and Delilah forms the ceiling. Her white satin dress flows gracefully and picturesquely down her slender body, leaving her arms and breast bare, and carelessly they nestle amid the dark hair of the great fur of sable, lined with green velvet. Her red hair falls down her back as far as the hips, only half held by strings of black pearls.

“Venus in Furs,” I whisper, while she draws me to her breast and threatens to stifle me with her kisses.

Then I no longer speak and neither do I think; everything is drowned out in an ocean of unimagined bliss. “Do you still love me?” she asks, her eye softening in passionate tenderness. “You still remember your oath,” she continued with an alluring smile, “now that everything is prepared, everything in readiness, I ask you once more, is it still your serious wish to become my slave?” “Am I not ready?” I asked in surprise. “You have not yet signed the papers.” redheaded teen sex gif “Papers—what papers?” “Oh, I see, you want to give it up,” she said, “well then, we will let it go.” “But Wanda,” I said, “you know that nothing gives me greater happiness than to serve you, to be your slave. I would give everything for the sake of feeling myself wholly in your power, even unto death—” “How beautiful you are,” she whispered, “when you speak so enthusiastically, so passionately. I am more in love with you than ever and you want me to be dominant, stern, and cruel. I am afraid, it will be impossible for me to be so.” “I am not afraid,” I replied smiling, “where are the papers?’” “So that you may know what it means to be absolutely in my power, I have drafted a second agreement in which you declare that you have decided to kill yourself. In that way I can even kill you, if I so desire.” “Give them to me.” While I was unfolding the documents and reading them, Wanda got pen and ink.