Stripping Stories

Here is something a little bit different. A newly discovered masterpiece by the little known eighteenth century author Samuel Fielding. They certainly knew how to enjoy themselves in those days! *** LETTER I MY DEAR SISTER, I feel it incumbent upon myself to take up my pen to acquaint you of those things that have happened here since I took up post as footman to my Lady BOOBIES. For, no sooner had I taken up this post in place of our dear brother ARCHIE than my lady desired that I should meet with her shortly within her own chamber. My lady’s maid Maria being at that time engaged elsewhere my lady desired me that I should carry out for her certain of those little services which ladies of that refinement often require. However had I just started upon my appointed task than my lady opined that personal cleanliness was of all things the most important to a lady of her distinction. She therefore desired of me that I should draw a hot bath and place it within her chamber. Cleanli...

"Oh Mama!" I expostulated, "surely you cannot mean that I must live with Great Aunt Piddleton in her hovel in Weirdstone!" "I'm afraid you must dear. Your dear Papa lost his all when the business collapsed." "You mean he lost everything Mama!" "No - he lost his awl. And when you are a cobbler you cannot survive without an awl." "But how did the business collapse!" "The roof was too heavy and the walls weren't strong enough. I told him corrugated cardboard wasn't the same as corrugated iron but he wouldn't believe me." "But the people in Weirdstone. They are so...." I hesitated unable to bring to mind the word I sought. "Peculiar?" "No Mama. Not peculiar. Like peculiar but not peculiar." "Strange?" "No." "Odd?" "No" "Bizarre?" "No Mama," poor Mama was running out of synonymic epithets,...

Girls in a maze I don’t know if universities still have Rag Weeks like they used to in my day, and indeed for my American readers I don’t know if you have such things over there at all, or perhaps they go by a different name, but back in the 70’s they were a big thing.  For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, this was a week in which students at the Uni did crazy things to raise money for charity.  I was 18 years old and in my first year as a student of botany, horticulture and landscape gardening.  A strange subject you may think for a modern girl, but things were changing back then and the ‘new’ universities were introducing degrees in all sorts of new things.  I had always been keen on botany and it seemed like a good course. We had only been there a few months in our first year when Jack, a boy from the year above, came in to our lecture theatre with an announcement.  Rag Week was coming up he said, and it was tradition that the firs...

Chocolat by Joris Sprout On a hot summer day in 1892, one of those days when the canicule strikes Paris like the blast of the depths of Hades, Gabriel des Esseintes made his way slowly along the Boulevard St Germain, his jewel encrusted tortoise at his heels, seeking, as was his wont, those pleasures, which to him were like the nectar of the Gods, but which were to others of such a nature that had his purpose been known, he might have found himself entrusted to the care the guardians of the law which in that day patrolled the streets of the great city in their never ending quest to quell the causes of social disorder among the heaving masses. Seating himself in Les Deux Magots by the parvis of the ancient church he looked across at the Café de Flore where two jeunes filles en fleurs sipped coffee in the shade of the great hornbeams which cast their sombre shades over the convives who gathered at that early morning to watch, in the way of all French people, the world as it pass...

Why didn't you wear a coat Cassie? That's what I expect you're going to say. As if anybody wears a coat going out clubbing. I mean it's not like there's anywhere to leave a coat, it's not like you're going to die of cold going from club to club, it's not like it's cool to have a coat! Then you'll ask why I wasn't wearing underwear; well I'll have you know with boobs like mine a bra is superfluous to requirements - and not because they're small if that's what you’re thinking, it's because they're firm and are perfectly all right without support thank you very much. And as for knickers, I haven't worn them since I left the school netball team, and I've never really seen the point of a thong. So that was why I was dressed in nothing but my lovely crimson sparkly party dress. Tight enough to show off my trim figure (no panty lines), short enough to show off my legs and low enough to show off my boobs. I loved that ...