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Friday, 30 March 2018

Twins in Trouble

From Blushes 51
They really were stunning: huge light blue eyes, pouting mouths like ripe strawberries, tumbling shoulder-length hair so blonde it was almost white; plus of course their provocatively sensuous figures. Every male’s dream of perfect young Swedish womanhood in fact. And two of them. Twins, so identical it was impossible to tell one pair of big blue eyes from the other, or the statuesque boobs or bottoms. Margit and Lisa. Twin daughters of a senior Swedish diplomat. Nineteen years old. With a tinkling laugh — or two tinkling laughs they would say they weren’t quite identical. They could tell each other apart and so could their mother; sometimes their father made a mistake. Another of those laughs (or two), and the tinkling laughs plus the wide blue eyes and the thrusting boobs (they had very correct, erect postures) could make a mere male feel quite weak at the knees.
Naturally enough they caused a considerable stir on arrival at Oxford where there might be pretty girls but none as devastating as these two. And they caused a definite stir in Arnold Hemling, Master of Wroxeter College where the twins were to read History and English. A stir inside, in the pit of his stomach, a stir also in the front of his elegantly-cut trousers. Dr Hemling was a noted scholar but also a normal male. At 56, tall and distinguished-looking, he was considered attractive by many female students, an opinion with which he himself concurred. He had more than once in the past acted on this when the student was particularly attractive and willing, though naturally insisting on absolute discretion; the Master of an Oxford College cannot be known as a seducer of students.
Yes, the Swedish twins caused a stir in Arnold Hemling from the moment he first set eyes on them which was some weeks before term when they came for interview. Those scrumptious mouths, the big blue eyes, and what was under the thin summer frocks. Burgeoning young female bodies and everybody knew what 19-year-old Swedish girls were happy to do with their bodies. (And with their scrumptious mouths too come to that). And, Arnold Hemling reasoned they would be happy, would feel privileged no doubt, to do those things with the handsome Master of their College. He was quite sure the two stunning pairs of blue eyes, as he bid them farewell, said exactly that. He would make a move just as soon as term started, before they became too involved with various callow youths, as they inevitably would.
But as it turned out the Master of Wroxeter was wrong. Blinded by his own self-esteem perhaps. At any rate his cautious but obvious approach when he got one of them (Lisa) alone in his study was rebuffed. With one of those tinkling little laughs but quite unequivocally. Arnold Hemling couldn’t believe it and tried again. Only to get the same response. At that point he experienced a hot little flush of embarrassment. Plus also anger. It had never happened before because he had always taken great care to be sure. This time he had been too blinded by his desire for these mouth-watering visions. That of course was not how Arnold Hemling saw it: what he saw was a sexy Swedish tease (two in fact) who had led him on only to laugh at him. No doubt they would be laughing their tinkling laughs together fit to burst out of their teasing tight-bodiced dresses. And relaying this marvellous joke to everyone, the whole student body, of how ridiculous Dr Hemling had been. Arnold Hemling ground his teeth. If he ever got the chance with that little bitch… with either of those little bitches…
As we all know Providence sometimes smiles — on the good and the not-so-good as well. It smiled on the Master of Wroxeter just two weeks into the autumn term. When one of the two — Margit as it happened — was caught shoplifting, in a bookshop in the town. Books can be very desirable items and also rather expensive, at least to many students on tight grants. Not that Margit and Lisa were in that situation with well-off and generous parents. But booksellers in university towns can get very annoyed by shoplifters or plain thieves as they prefer to call them. When they catch one, even a stunningly attractive blonde one, they want some action. Margit of course made all the excuses — forgetfulness, was looking for somewhere to pay and just happened to walk outside, had a dizzy spell, etc. — and also did her very best with the big blue eyes and, shoulders back, her big tits. The proprietor was unimpressed — well, he was impressed with the tits but even so he wanted action. He would report it either to the police or to her college. Margit asked him, when she saw he was determined, begged him in fact, to go to the college. That of course was not wise. Not wise at all.
Naturally what Margit thought was that she would be able to get round Dr Hemling, persuade him to get it hushed up. The Master fancied her and Lisa, she had seen that in his eyes right away at the interview. It was true he had been cooler with them since that business with Lisa when she had rejected his approach, but he would still do something, Margit was sure he would. She would bat her eyelashes and pull back her shoulders…
Arnold Hemling couldn’t believe his luck. Couldn’t believe Providence had smiled on him in this marvellous way. When he got the phone call and it had sunk in he almost felt like getting down on his knees to offer up a prayer of thanks. He didn’t, quite. What he did do was call a porter to go round and tell the girls he wanted to see them both immediately . Both of them because he wasn’t too sure which was which and if this was the same one who had laughed at him; and in any case he wanted both.
‘I suppose you are aware of the seriousness of this, whichever one of you did it? That you can be expelled, sent back home in disgrace, your father’s career ruined probably. The two of you are aware of that?’
Arnold Hemling’s voice was hard, his eyes glinting. Sitting at his large polished oak desk and drinking in the sight of these two beauties standing nervously in front of him. It was October but still warm and they were in identical summer dresses, blue-and-white polka-dot, loose-skirted but tight at the waist and bodice. Their ripe tits seemed to thrust out at him. White court shoes completed their outfits and their legs seemed to be bare. Sometimes they wore identical outfits like this and sometimes not.
Margit stuttered out, ‘Y…Yes sir. I am really so sorry. I didn’t mean to do it. My head felt funny. I felt faint.’ They both had good English, though with an accent. She then attempted a winning smile accompanied by some work with her eyelashes.
Arnold Hemling’s expression did not soften. He had started off hard, over the top perhaps, and he continued in the same vein. He was inclined to do what he said, expel Margit. She was a disgrace. Etc., etc. Before long he had them both virtually in tears, because clearly Margit being expelled and sent home was impossible to contemplate. They both began pleading, Dr Hemling was not at all the soft touch they had thought he would be.
Arnold Hemling enjoyed their abject pleading, keeping his face hard, now and then shaking his head. He didn’t intend to expel her of course, he had much more interesting things in mind. For both girls. At last he said that if he didn’t expel Margit and if he could placate the bookshop proprietor he would certainly have to mete out some punishment of his own. And it would be something that would be not at all pleasant.
‘Anything!’ they pleaded. As long as the disgrace could be hushed up. ‘Please! Anything!’
Arnold Hemling permitted himself a wry smile. ‘Anything? Very well girls. For a start you can both take all your clothes off. Everything. Except perhaps your shoes. Those dresses, knickers and bras. Do sexy Swedish girls wear knickers and bras? We’ll see won’t we. Come on.’
They looked at each other, two faces going an identical shade of pink. Was it a joke? Just to scare them perhaps? The pink faces turned back to the Master of Wroxeter. He picked up his phone. ‘Don’t want to? Very well, I’ll call the police.’
‘No!’ and ‘Please!’ they squawked. Frantic, agitated voices. Margit’s said, ‘S…someone could come in.’
‘Lock the door then,’ she was told. With a whimper she turned, stumbled over to the door; locked it. Then came back. Licked her full lips in a desperate manner, glanced at her sister, and began unbuttoning. Lisa was doing likewise. The dresses buttoned right down the fronts, the tight bodices and then the loose skirts. Underneath they had white waist-slips and white bras. Their luscious melon-like tits bulging lacy white bras. And under the waist-slips? ‘Come on, keep going,’ Arnold Hemling told them. Getting to his feet now. One hand in his pocket. He had a full erection.
They were stepping out of the waist-slips. Yes, sexy Swedish girls did wear knickers, or at least these two did. Brief lacy white ones, high at the sides. The knickers and the bras now had to come off? Scarlet faces glancing again at him. Lisa starting to plead. ‘Off!’ he said. ‘Or I’ll take you round to the police station just like that.’
With no choice they did it. And were told to stand up straight, shoulders back, hands at their sides. Arnold Hemling felt a little faint. They were so fantastic. A whole lot more fantastic even than you would think looking at them dressed. Almost like some sort of porno dream. Their melon tits sticking straight out, no sag at all, with huge red nipples also sticking straight out, the fear and excitement of it all presumably having made them erect. Slim waists and below them the ripe flare of their hips., And at the centre of the hips, below the womanly swell of their bellies, the two bushes of blonde pussy hair. It was fantastic, the two of them together, side by side, and quite identical making it a real dream scene.
Arnold had moved close, to Margit’s side. His hand can up and slid over her fantastic tits. She gasped and he laughed. ‘We’ve got to be punished, haven’t we, Margit?’ He tweaked a big red nipple. Then his hand slid down to her pussy bush. Grabbing hold of a bunch of hair he sharply pulled. She squealed. Then he told them what he was going to do. For starters. They both yelled out. Desperate, frantic cries.
Arnold Hemling silenced them, his voice hard and authoritative. ‘If you don’t agree you know the alternative.’ He moved round behind them and his hand took hold of Lisa’s bare bum. Underneath hefting one surging buttock like a man considering some exotic fruit at the market. ‘I think you’ll both look very cute,’ he said softly in Lisa’s pretty ear.
They had no real choice of course even though what Dr Hemling had said was utterly sickening. Not if he meant it and he gave every indication that he did, firmly refusing to listen to further pleadings. He told them they could get dressed and go now, he would see them in the morning, 9 o’clock in his sitting room. He would do it then.
As they reached for their clothes Arnold Hemling had another thought. ‘Just a minute. Leave all your underthings here, put on only your dresses. Then I want you to walk twice round the quad, normal walking pace, before you go back to your rooms. And that’s how I want you in the morning. Those same dresses with nothing at all underneath.’
There were people in the quad of course, other students, mostly male, and their blue-spotted white dresses were semi see-through. With no slips or anything else underneath and the strong afternoon sun in the right direction the dresses were virtually transparent. Walking twice round the quad like that, being stopped at intervals by acquaintances — who could clearly see — was a horribly embarrassing ordeal. But nothing like as horrible as tomorrow was going to be.
Dr Handing was not alone when, at precisely 9 o’clock and dressed as demanded, they knocked on his door and entered. That was a nasty shock. Another man, in a white tunic. He grinned at them. Dr Hemling said ‘Good morning girls. This is Mr Gallini. He’s a professional barber. I thought you’d prefer a proper job rather than have me hack it off.’
They both gave pitiful yelps. It was actually going to happen. This man was going to cut off their beautiful shoulder-length blonde tresses. Arnold Hemling grabbed Margit, pulling her over to an upright chair. ‘I’ve told him to leave perhaps half an inch all over. Like a convict.
Margit screamed and there was a desperate whimper from Lisa. Screams or not, Margit was seated on the chair and wrapped in a white sheet. She began crying as with Dr Hemling holding her shoulders firm the scissors crunched into the wheat-coloured locks. Lisa couldn’t bear to look but she could hear the scissors’ sickening crunch mixed with Margit’s sobbing.
When the barber was finally through he held a mirror up for Margit to see. A renewed burst of hysterical sobbing. He hadn’t quite done as Dr Hemling had suggested; there was about one and a half inches left all over. Nonetheless it looked really dreadful.
Margit was bundled, out of the chair and it was Lisa’s turn. Squealing and then crying too as she heard that dreadful crunching into her own hair. Lisa got exactly the same cut. ‘Very nice, Frank,’ Arnold Hemling said. ‘You’ve done a really good job on them both. And now the other, eh? Their pretty pussies. I want them shaved as clean as a baby’s bottom.’
Dr Hemling had said that too yesterday but like their heads it had been difficult to believe he meant it. It was clear now that he did. The barber had produced an old-fashioned shaving brush and soap stick — and one of those dreadful cut-throat razors. Margit and Lisa both screamed again at the thought of that frightening thing at their private parts and the thought also of having their pussies denuded. At the same time there was still the horror of what had just been done — all their beautiful hair now scattered about the floor.
‘Margit first again,’ Dr Hemling said. ‘Let’s have your dress off and then we’ll have you up on the table.’
More screams of course but the two men simply grabbed her. Lisa watched in shocked horror as they roughly unfastened the buttons of Margit’s dress and then yanked it off. Nude Margit was hoisted up onto Dr Hemling’s polished rosewood side table and pushed down on her back. She was sobbing hysterically. Arnold Hemling smacked his hand hard across her thigh.
‘Now listen to me, Margit. Stop that noise and keep quite still. Otherwise you could get a nasty injury and it would be your own fault. All right? Perfectly still… and open your legs wide.’
The yelling abated into frightened whimpering. Margit’s legs were lying over the edge of the table. Dr Hemling pushed her knees wide without resistance. ‘That’s better.’ His hand went to her pussy, now completely exposed and thrust out in her supine position. ‘You’re going to look very sweet with no hair on it. And your sister too.’ His fingers slid in between the outer lips and began stroking her super-sensitive inner parts.
Lisa, still with her dress on but presumably not for long, watched in horrified fascination. The barber was lathering his brush, then stropping that dreadful razor. It was all a horrifying nightmare. Margit lying motionless, making little moaning sounds, with Dr Hemling playing with her open cunt. Margit with her awful cropped hair. Lisa’s hand went up to her own, in the same sickening state. It had to be a nightmare. But it was a nightmare that was real. The barber was ready. Dr Hemling stopping what he had been doing. Now saying, ‘Keep quite still… He was doing it. The barber lathering Margit’s pussy…
He did do it. Shaved every last soft blonde hair from Margit’s pussy. Lisa had turned away, unable to look, but now Dr Hemling made her look. Margit on her feet again, scarlet-faced, trying to cover herself with her hands but they pulled the hands away. ‘Look, Lisa,’ Dr Hemling said. ‘Have a good look. Doesn’t it look nice?’
It looked dreadful. Really dreadful.
He laughed. ‘Now your turn. Come on. Dress off.’
Afterwards, after Lisa had been done too, Arnold Hemling made the two of them do a little dance, a sort of can-can, for himself and the barber. Just as they were, nude except for their white court shoes. With their blonde crop-heads, their nude tits and bums jiggling and jouncing, and their pussies as bare and pink as the day they were born. After that he said they could go, in just their dresses again. Dr Hemling said he would want to see them again that evening.
They skittered out and along the corridor, desperate not to be seen before they reached the sanctuary of their rooms. Fortunately no one was about. Inside with the door closed they both burst into tears again. Hugging each other and howling. What were they going to do?
Clearly Margit and Lisa were not going to be able to hide their awful state from the world at large — or not their heads at least. The rest of the college would have to know, they couldn’t stay in their room for ever. Dabbing at red eyes they cautiously looked at each other. They could only say they had got it done themselves. As a joke? A bet? They had become bored with long hair? Margit said, ‘If we wash it…’ But they were still going to look dreadful. And no one would really cut off their own beautiful hair.
There was nothing for it, though, washed and set Margit and Lisa decided they didn’t look quite so bad. They would say it was for a bet: a large sum of money, someone back home in Sweden perhaps. Would anyone believe that? They couldn’t really worry about it, because there was the other thing to worry about. Dr Hemling, the Master, hadn’t finished with them of course.
They hid to go back at 7.30 he had said. Wear a pretty dress again (identical ones) and no underwear as before. They had to do it of course. Going back in fear and trepidation. It was going to be something horrible again. And it was.
‘Oh you do look nice,’ Dr Hemling greeted them. The two girls had put on light blue dresses, not see-through at least. He rumpled Margit’s short-cropped head. ‘Yes, really cute looking. Two cute girl convicts. My guests are going to adore you.’
Yes guests. Arnold Hemling went on to explain to the sick-looking pair that he was having a small dinner party, a little group of close acquaintances. Margit and Lisa were going to act as maids.
‘Oh yes of course you are,’ he told them as they began desperate pleadings. ‘Of course. And they’re going to love you.’ Arnold Hemling’s arm went round Margit’s slim waist. ‘They’re going to love your big juicy boobs and also of course those pretty shaved pussies. What a treat!’
The guests would be arriving shortly. Meanwhile there was just time for Dr Hemling to take a few photos. ‘With your pretty dresses off of course, girls.’
Naturally there was more pitiful pleading but he cut them short. They would both get a good hard caning on their bare bottoms if they made any fuss. He marched them into his rather splendid bathroom and told them to take the dresses off. If they didn’t do it right away his guests would be there and they would no doubt be more than willing to strip the girls. At that Margit and Lisa got moving.
When they were nude except for their shoes Arnold Hemling stood them up against the tiled wall and fondled their tits. ‘I want these big nipples really sticking out, girls.’ His hands groped their tits and their pussies as well. ‘I want both of you nice and hot for these shots.’
The Master of Wroxeter College posed his two nude students in a variety of positions. Sexy shots; blatantly revealing shots. He had just finished a full roll of film when there was the sound of his doorbell ringing. The first guest! Margit and Lisa were told to put their dresses on again. ‘For the moment. I want you both looking sweet and demure to welcome my guests. But later on I think showing a bit more, eh?’
There were four guests altogether. All men, of about Dr Hemling’s age, all senior university figures. Arnold Hemling had promised them a surprise and here it was: those two stunning Swedish girls, but… with their lovely blonde tresses completely cropped off.
‘We… uh… did it… for a bet,’ said scarlet-faced Margit.
The host just grinned. There was even more reason to have a scarlet face a little bit later. When the girls were brought by Dr Hemling into the sitting room where the guests were now seated with their drinks. Margit and Lisa’s dresses had been exchanged for undergraduate gowns. The scarlet-faced pair were wearing only the short black gowns and their white court shoes. Nothing else.
Arnold Hemling told them to stand in the centre of the room. ‘Now both of you hold your gowns wide open. Let our guests have a proper look at you.’
It was too much. Margit and Lisa stood transfixed, the gowns clasped tight round their nubile bare bodies. Showing everything to five men! But of course they had to. As Dr Hemling said, if they didn’t the gowns would be forcibly pulled open, and indeed taken completely off. So Margit and Lisa did as they were told. Stood in front of the four guests with the black gowns held wide. Showing everything: their melon-ripe tits; their shaven pussies.
It was dreadful all right. But compared to what was to come, with the stunning Swedish twosome providing the evening’s entertainment, standing in the centre of the room displaying themselves was not all that bad. Not, compared to what Margit and Lisa were later made to do — and indeed what they had done to them — standing there and merely showing everything was not bad at all.

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