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Or the Adventures of a Gentleman in Search of Pleasure.
Translated from the French.
I then asked her to undress, and told her that in a moment I would return to her. I went out and gave an order to Mary and returned, finding my mistress stripped to her shift.
I undressed, and taking off my shirt, gave her a kiss, and drew her shift over her head and we both stood naked. I opened the room-door and picking her up carried her into the cabin amongst the girls.
Isabel had by this time got drunk as well as the girls who had come on board with her. With what shouts of laughter did they receive us, tickling us, pinching us, slapping us against one another, catching at my genitals and pulling the hair that surmounted the notch of my mistress, patting our bare backsides, throwing us on the floor, putting us on top of each other, etc., whilst I would catch them, pull up their petticoats, pinch their buttocks, flap the head of my enormous machine against the lips of their hairy little slits, force it into their hands and make them play with it.
I caught one and with the help of Ibzaidu and my mistress soon stripped her naked, handing her clothes to Mary, whom I ordered with Ibzaidu to put away her clothes, and who were as naked as I, who locked them up in one of the rooms, and in a few minutes I had stripped the whole of them stark naked.
Oh! then what amorous, wanton tricks we sportively played each other, they tickling my large bags and stones, playing with my penis and rubbing it, I moulding their beautiful titties and with the tip of my finger tickling their cunts.
One little devil who could not have been over fourteen I made spend. What fun this was to the rest, to see her recline her head on my shoulder, spread apart her thighs, and gasp out her exclamations of delight. Her oh's and ah's and me's, as she gave down the generous fluid which ran down my fingers and wet my whole hand.
While I was thus with my finger frigging the dear little maid, Isabel had squatted herself down between my legs and had taken my pego in her mouth and was frigging me in that way. I did not notice it until the delicious creature who was reclining on my shoulder had done spending. But I felt that I too was about to spend, and trying to draw my penis from her mouth, she clasped her hands around my buttocks and squeezed me up close to her mouth, till my stones and bags tingled against her chin and neck.
I exclaimed: “My God! Let go. I'm going to spend!”
But instead of doing so she hugged me still more and tickled its head with her tongue more and more.
The crisis seized me, the short convulsive jerks of my backside announce that the fluid is coming.
“I'm spending; here it is. Ah, my God! what pleasure! How exquisite! What bliss! Oh, God, quicker! Oh, bliss! Heavenly joy! I'm spending,” and I fell to the floor fairly fainting away through excess of pleasure. My flesh quivered and danced, my whole body was in motion, as though attacked with St. Vitus' dance.
Never, no, never in the world was a man so frigged by woman. Never before did man experience such voluptuous pleasure. Never was there such bliss so heavenly, so ecstatic, imparted to man by woman, as I received from my mistress as I let flow the pearly liquid into her mouth. Never did the most exquisite sucking and friction of a cunt produce the same amount of such intense ecstasy as I felt when spending. As the pearly liquid spurted from me she placed her tongue on the head, rolling it over and over it, producing in me feelings of bliss so delicious as to throw me into convulsions of pleasure.
It was some time ere I recovered myself, and then it was through the teasings and ticklings of my lovely tormentors. I had a pallet made on the floor of the cabin from the beds in the staterooms, and putting the lights out, we lay down. I was in the arms of Isabel and soon well repaid her for the pleasure she had given just before.
Thrice did I spend into the most secret recesses of her notch the warm and generous fluid which acts so powerfully on women, and then composed myself for sleep.
After sleeping for I should judge about two hours, I was awakened by feeling someone rubbing and playing with my member, which was in fine standing order.
I found it was Isabel, who had her rump stuck close to the hollow of my thighs and was rubbing the head of my penis against her culo. She wet it every now and then and the sliding of it between her fat buttocks caused a most agreeable tingling sensation to pervade my whole corporeal system.
Wishing to aid her in her intentions, still pretending to be asleep, I aided her all in my power so far as regarded position, etc.
I clasped my arms around her waist and one thigh, which I lightly raised.
“Oh,” she said, “you are awake and want more pleasure!”
I made no answer and guided the head of my prick to her little hole au derrière. I thrust forward but it would not penetrate. With her fingers she moistened its head with spittle and again placed it aright; but as it was an awkward position to lie in I rolled her on to her belly, placing a cushion under her to raise her rump high up. I opened her thighs, got between them and tried the back entrance. I forced it in. She squirmed and wriggled about gasping with pleasure and I could hardly keep in her.
Her wriggling about and the delicious contractions of her culo brought down from me a copious discharge of the electric fluid which I injected into her.
“Oh, God!” she exclaimed, “what pleasure. I feel it rushing into me! How hot it is, my dear love. Again, and quicker. Now I come, too; it is running from me. My God! 'tis heaven! What pleasure. Ah, what lus—lus—luscious pleasure!”
The words died on her lips. As I was fucking her in her slit, and had frigged her clitoris at the same time, thus procuring her the double pleasure.
Here was an entirely new source of pleasure opened to me by the libertinism of my new mistress. Already I had enjoyed her in three different places, and I found that she had penetrated into the inmost recesses of my breast, creating a sensation there which I felt could never be effaced by any other female.
What a luxury it was to see the wild, stupefied astonishment of the charming girls who surrounded me to find themselves lying with me stark naked, and it was somehow increased, I venture to say, by seeing me on top of Isabel, giving her an appetite for her breakfast with the morning draught which she sucked in with great delight.
They all sprang up looking for their clothes or something with which to hide their nakedness, but in vain; no clothes were to be seen, as I had them safe under lock and key.
The ravishing little creature in whose arms I had spent the night nearly laughed herself into fits at witnessing the dumb terror of the girls and commenced railing them, telling them everything that had occurred during the night, recalling to their minds all the follies and extravagances they had been guilty of, and tried to induce them to take their good luck, as she said, with fortitude, describing to them all the pleasure she had received from me during the night and begging them to submit to whatever I would desire with good grace and it was better for them. I then spoke to them, telling them where I was taking them to, and that at the least resistance made by them I would hand them back to the fierce desires of the common sailors; but on the contrary, if they acted as I wished them, everything should be well with them. That they could not form the slightest desire but what would be instantly complied with. The most delicate attentions should be paid them, and I ended by telling them of the life of luxury and blissful love they would lead with me, and on the contrary, of the dreadful life they would spend if by remaining refractory they caused me to give them away to the brutal lusts of the sailors.
This had considerable effect on them as I could see fear and horror plainly depicted on their countenances.
I then rang a bell for a servant and told her to bring me a bottle of wine, telling the girl where to get it.
When she brought it in I filled the glasses and asked the girls, who were huddled together in one corner, to come and take a glass each.
They did not stir, and putting on a frowning aspect, I commanded them to come and drink.
They came forward to the table and drank the wine.
I told them to seat themselves on the sofa while breakfast was being laid. I seated four on one sofa and attempted to lay myself down across their knees, but they all jumped up and ran into a corner. I determined to terrify them at once, so they would be perfectly subservient to my desires. Calling a servant, I sent her to call my mate, one who officiated as my valet.
When he entered the cabin I ordered the girls to resume their places on the sofa, which they tremblingly did.
Then I told the mate to seize on the first one of them who attempted to move, drag her on the deck and give her to the sailors.
I went up to them and sitting on one of them for a moment, lay down with my belly and face towards theirs. The one on whose thighs I rested my feet I bade to part her legs and with my toes I tickled the lips of her bushy notch. The one on whose thighs my cheeks rested I also made to part her legs so that I could drop my right arm between them. I then frigged her clitoris occasionally with my little finger, tickling her just inside the lips; she began to wriggle about on the sofa. The girls on whom rested my buttocks and thighs I made play, one with my stones and the other with my Jacob's staff.
At breakfast I put into the cup of one of the youngest and prettiest girls enough of the tincture of cantharides to make her libidinous desires show themselves pretty strongly.
After we had finished eating I took her to a sofa and drew her on my knees, and as the drug began to take effect on her, I took all the liberties I desired with her, kissing and sucking her pretty lips, the nipples of her breasts, handling her buttocks, frigging her clitoris, drawing my grand machine up between her thighs and rubbing the lips of her pussey, till I felt myself able to succeed in making an entrance into any place no matter how small. She the while hugged me in her arms, giving me kiss for kiss, rubbing and screwing her bottom on my thighs, giving evidence of the raging fever which was consuming that part of her.
Her companions, none of whom had seen me drop the tincture into her coffee, regarded her manoeuvres with me in perfect wonder, little thinking that they each would do the same before they were two days older.
I fixed a cushion and pillow on the sofa so as to properly support her head and bottom, and laying the lecherous little devil down I opened wide her legs and laid myself down between them. She aided me with good will in getting it well fixed, so as better to operate.
Mary and Ibzaidu came to act as pilots to steer my noble craft safe into the harbour of Cytheria. The entrance to the haven was very narrow, making the way rather difficult till Donna Isabel ran up to me and slapping me hard on the bare buttocks drove me up to the hilt, causing the delicious creature whom I was deflowering to scream out with the pain. The blood flowed from her and the sperm from me, mingling most delightfully.
Resting for a moment, I recommenced the delightful race and soon had the joy to know that the dear girl was reaching the very acme of human enjoyment whilst I at the same time again drowned my senses in another discharge of that peculiar fluid the flowing of which drowns one in such ecstacies.
Three others did I serve in the same manner before the close of the day, ravishing them of their dear little maidenheads, of no manner of use to a woman, and of which I am particularly fond.
One I forced to give up to me her virginity by the aid of the tincture without taking way her senses. Oh! they were bliss, doubly refined, her fierce struggles to free herself from my lascivious embraces. How sweetly musical to my ears were her yells of agony and shame. With what transports did I force her to resign her sweet body to my fierce desires. How ravishing was the pleasure I felt in ripping and tearing up the tender outworks, the inner gates, the bulwarks, everything. And at last, despite her continued struggling and screaming, to drive full tilt into the very temple of Venus, triumphantly plucking off her virgin rose from its stem, causing the blood to flow in profusion. Oh, how I gloated on the ruins of all that is held dear and honourable by her sex—her virtue.
Ye Gods! it was a fuck so altogether exquisitely delicious that it was a full half-hour before I was sufficiently recovered to enter again into the little grotto of Venus, the road to which I had just opened.
Lovely creature! Three times did I experience in your arms that fierce transporting pleasure which intoxicates the soul and drowns the mind in those voluptuous ecstacies which can only be experienced in the close embrace of the two sexes.
Abstaining from cohabiting with any of the girls for a couple of days, I felt my strength renewed and invigorated, and on the fifth day after carrying them off from the island, I had ravished the whole six of their dear little maidenheads I had cruelly forced them to give up to my lechery. But once having lost them, which they held so guarded, they entered into all my whims and pleasures with the passion and ardor that characterizes the females of the south.
Once the Rubicon was crossed they became the greatest libertines I ever met with. They would hang round me day and night, trying every means in their power to keep my prick in a constant state of erection. They would lay me down on the floor stark naked, like themselves. They would fairly fight for the possession of my genitals. One would gently squeeze my stones, while another would be playing with my penis, which she would by the gentle friction of her soft, delicate hand bring to an erection.
Then would she precipitate herself on me and devour the rich morsel, palating it with those exquisite contractions and inward squeezings which at the time women are about to spend render the act of copulation so exquisitely delicious.
Then, when one was mounted on me, would the dear creatures show forth the full fire of their lechery.
Two of them would seize on my hands, one on each, and, running my fingers into their salacious slits, would thus procure for themselves a semblance of the pleasure their more lucky rival was enjoying and receiving from the friction of the stiffly red-tipped horn which sprang out from the bottom of my belly.
Isabel would rush into the arms of Ibzaidu, to whom she had taken a great liking. Tumbling on the floor in each other's arms they would press each other, squeeze breasts, suck nipples, force their tongues into each other's cunts. Their hands would play and twine in the bushy hair that shaded the mounts above their notches. Their fingers would slide lower down, would enter the sacred grotto, and then running them in as far as they could, they would commence the titillation, and with the finger of the left hand at the same time they would frig the clitoris, which would soon bring them to that delicious state of annihilation which causes the soul to dissolve itself in a sea of bliss.
At other times they would seize on the languishing Fanny, who yet retained her maidenhead but of which she was very anxious to be rid, and throw her on the sofa or floor, and while Ibzaidu would be squeezing or sucking her breasts, pressing her own lovely titties to her mouth, kissing and sucking her rosy lips, and thrusting her tongue into her mouth, Isabel would be between her thighs, frigging her clitoris with her fingers and with her tongue between the lips, so titillate her cunt as to give her the most delicious pleasure. The dear Fanny would spend, pouring down the liquor of which she possessed a superabundance, amidst sighs, long and deep.
Nor would her hands be idle, for those who were procuring her the pleasure did not forget themselves.
They would force her hands into their own glowing furnace and send down such a flow of liquid as would wet the hands of Fanny all over.
Then would these two try their best to procure for Fanny those pleasures which all around her were continually being received from me but of which I had as yet deprived her. But she was not long to be burdened with that which all maids are anxious to get rid of—her virginity.
Giving myself one day's rest, I lay down in the cabin by myself on a mattress. The girls always made their beds on the floor and we lay together. After I had been asleep for sometime, I was awakened by feeling someone playing with my private parts. Isabel and Ibzaidu were lying on either side of me, their heads resting on my thighs. Isabel had taken that piece of flesh of which she was so fond in her mouth and was tickling it with her tongue. The other was feeling and playing with the curious bag which hung low down between her thighs, gently rubbing and squeezing the stones.
My machine was proudly erect as a mast, its red head glowing through the darkness.
“Come,” said Isabel, “Ibzaidu has lived for five days on the shadow of the substance which the other girls have been so gorged with, and it is but fair that you should recompence her for starving, while others have been living in plenty. Come you, stand! Your prick is in fine condition. You must spend this night with her and me for I have not partaken of the flesh for some time.”
I laid Ibzaidu on her back and getting between her legs I entered my prick into her parts. The moment she felt the head within the further recesses of her cunt she spent most plentifully. I worked away in her for some time, holding back my own liquor as long as possible so as to give her as much pleasure as I could, and she spent three times more. Just as she was dissolving her very vitals into sperm, I met her and injected the seed into her womb.
I got off her, lay between the two. Without giving me any time for recruiting, Isabel commenced playing with my staff, which she hugged, pressing it to her breasts, squeezing it between them, pressing it against her cheeks, gently frigging it with her hand, and taking its uncapped head between her lips, softly biting and tickling it with the end of her tongue.
Then stopping till it sank down again, small and shrivelled up, she would take it and thrust the whole of it into her mouth, and by her exquisite palating and sucking and tickling cause it to start into life, proudly erecting its head till her little lips could hardly clasp it.
I laid her down on her belly, placing a pillow under the lower part of her body, and then entered her au derrière, put my left hand under her thighs and inserted my fingers into her cunt, holding them stiff, whilst I worked in her arse-hole.
The motions of her bottom, caused by the fall of my thighs against her backside, made her frig herself on my fingers. Thus did she enjoy a double pleasure.
Nor was Ibzaidu without share in this beautiful scene. She had lain down with her belly to my breast, her bush and slit rubbing against my side, with her right thigh thrown over my head.
Drawing her closer to me I kissed the lips of her cunt. I tickled her clitoris with my tongue, I put it between my lips and titillated her so deliciously with them that she died away in pleasure, at the same time that Isabel was losing her senses from the convulsive transports into which my double frigging had thrown her.
After this performance was over, we lay completely exhausted in each other's arms for about two hours, at the end of which time I began to feel myself somewhat revived.
While we were lying dormant in each other's embraces, Isabel had been describing to Ibzaidu the intense pleasure she had enjoyed when I enlarged her au derrière, and she prevailed on her to make me frig her in the same manner, making her lay her head between my thighs to play with my little thing and make it start into new life.
The beautiful, delicate and voluptuous Ibzaidu took my tickler in her mouth and by the tickling of her tongue and the sucking she gave it she soon made it to stand most beautifully erect, upon which she let it go.
I soon placed her in a convenient position for the attack which was to ravish her of her second maidenhead, and she was perfectly willing to surrender at once.
I placed her on her right side, partly lying on her back. I then lay down on her left side and prepared to enter her. Isabel had lain herself down in front of Ibzaidu, her cunt touching her face, and her head between the thighs of her companion.
She took the head of my enormous machine into her mouth which she wetted well with spittle and then guided it to its destination. But the place was so small that I made many attempts before I could penetrate.
At last I felt it enter. I shoved slowly and steadily, and at length felt it impossible to reach any further.
Ibzaidu writhed and twisted about so much after I was in her that I could hardly keep myself upon her. Isabel had put the fingers of her right hand into the cunt of the beautiful creature whom I was stroking behind, and the motions of her back as we worked together made her frig herself with them.
At the same time she put her own arms round the buttocks of Isabel, and drawing her slit up to her mouth, she put her tongue into it and frigged her so well in this way that Isabel spent before either of us, wetting the tongue and lips of the beautiful Circassian with the pearly drops.
The crisis now seized me and at the same moment the frigging of Isabel's fingers caused Ibzaidu to spend at the very moment I was squirting a stream of boiling sperm into her very vitals.
“Ah, dear sir, have mercy on me! I feel it here in me! I too—oh, goodness, I am spending! Oh, heavens, what a pleasure. I die—I spend again—again! I am spending!” She relaxed the convulsive grasp she had of Isabel's bottom. Her flesh quivered and danced and she lay convulsed with pleasure such as gods never dreamt of.
In three weeks we reached the coast and harboured in the little creek. I immediately went ashore, taking the women with me and went to the chateau.
Heavens! What a welcome I received. How the lively, rampant, lecherous girls crowded round, and with what embraces did they receive me. I was fairly devoured by the hungry creatures who crowded to embrace me.
And, La Rose d'Amour! Ah, dear Rose, as I pressed you in my arms and received your burning kisses, what a thrill did they not send through my whole body.
And you, beauteous Laura, how your little heart beat as I pressed your bosom to mine; what fire flashed from your languishing black eyes as you put one of my hands on your cunt and your own on my already stiff pego.
Then came Rosalie, the delicate, fair-skinned, blue-eyed Rosalie. With what fierce delight did she spring forward, light as the burning gazelle, and into my arms. What lustful fires sparkled in her half-closed eyes. Her lips meet mine—they are glued together. She forces open her mouth, her tongue meets mine. She rubs the lips of her cunt against my thigh, she clasps her arms tight, her breast rises and falls in quick succession, she wriggles her bottom, her backside convulsively jerks, and she says: “Oh—oh!—God!” and sliding through my arms she sank upon the floor.
There, there at the further end of the room I see Caroline entering. Caroline, that very goddess of voluptuous beauty. She has heard of my arrival. She advances towards me, perfectly naked except for a pink gauze drawn round her waist— I too am naked, for the girls had stripped me on entering the room. My prick is hard and stiff, standing erect against my belly. Caroline sees it, she fixes her eyes on it, and remains perfectly still, fascinated by the charming sight. I fly to her, I take her in my arms, her emotions overpower her, she sinks on the floor on her back, she drags me with her. As she falls, her legs part and I fall between them, and five times did she spend ere she recovered from her fall.
When she rose up what a brilliancy sparkled in her eyes. Her gait was light and elastic as a fawn's.
When I rose up from my fall with the lovely Caroline, I met the gaze of the licentious Nubian, who was advancing to meet me, holding in her hand a glass of wine. She was perfectly naked and twisted and screwed her thighs together. I meet, accept the glass and drain the wine. The moment I drank it I knew that it was mixed with the tincture for exciting and creating amorous propensities.
The lovely creatures I have just been naming gathered round me, they embraced me in every part; some a leg and a thigh; others hung round my neck; some seized on my hands with which they frigged themselves, one seats herself on the floor between my legs and playfully squeezes my stones and strokes my once more rampant prick. The luscious Celeste has her arms clasped round my neck and I am about to impale her with my prick, but Fanny comes forward and urges her claim in favour of her little maidenhead, which is consuming her with a burning fever.
I clasp her in my arms and lay her down, falling upon her. One of the girls hastens to place a cushion under her bottom and then guides the dart to its sheath. I shove and thrust, and one of the girls, giving me a couple of hard slaps over my backside, drove me in up to the hilt and the sweet girl at once sucked in the delicious poison she had been longing for.
The wine which I had drunk contained so much tincture that my pego continued standing.
The Nubian next came in for a good stroking. Three times while I was in her did she spend. Caroline, Laura and Rosalie came in their turns; each received an exquisite frigging.
I then went to bathe, taking with me only four of the girls: Caroline, Celestine, Laura and Rosalie.
Whilst in the bathroom I twice more frigged Rosalie and Laura, and then dismissed them to their apartments, remaining with the other two.
I had luncheon brought into the bath to me, and determining to sacrifice myself to the libidinous desires of my two lovely mistresses, I drank more of the wine containing the tincture. Sufficient to enable me to give the two who were with me as much cock-broth as they could sip through the night.
After remaining in the bath for a couple of hours, we came out and went to the bedchamber.
I led them into the state bedroom, and letting down the hangings, jumped into bed.
The two girls followed me and I was buried to my utmost length in the fiery furnace of Celestine. Four times did this amiable creature let fly her mettle and in such profusion did it come from her that the sheet under her bottom was all wet with it.
In her turn did Caroline take in and gorge her greedy little cunt with my morsel.
Thus did I spend the night, first frigging one and then the other, till they were entirely spent and worn out with the delicious fucking which I had given them.
I now determined to give up searching for any more maidenheads, and gave myself up to the dear girls I already possessed, than whom I could find none more beautiful, more voluptuous or more devoted to my capricious pleasures.
I now live happily surrounded by the sweet creatures, but I hear someone calling me from my private bed. I am in good condition, having abstained for three days. I fly to her, I jump into her arms and drown myself in a sea of bliss, in the arms of La Rose d'Amour.
THE END.
A True Welsh Story.
Ye fun-loving fellows for comical tales,
Match this if you can, truly current in Wales;
The Bible so old, and the Testament new,
Having none more authentic, more faithful or true.
Four frisky maidens, young, handsome and plump,
Who could each crack a flea on their bubbies or rump,
Took it into their heads just to bother the tail
Of Ned Natty, a groom, so they jalap'd his ale.
Now Ned on red herrings that evening did sup,
So he drank every drop of the gripe-giving cup.
Soon his guts 'gan to grumble and shortly Ned found
His bowels give way, and his body unbound;
The buckskin's gay leather, by gallus confin'd,
Could not be cut down 'till indecently lined;
This made Neddy's Pego, accustomed to sprout,
Shrink into his belly, and turn up his snout.
The time this damn'd jalap in Ned's belly lurked,
No post horse like Neddy was ever so worked.
Three nights and three days he lay squirting in bed.
And neither could hold up his tail nor his head.
The storm at length ceasing, purg'd Ned 'gan to think
On some revenge sweet for this damnable stink;
“For I'm damn'd,” exclaimed Ned, “if these bitches shan't find,
That I'm cabbaged before, tho' I'm loosened behind.”
'Twas early one morn, exercising his steed,
Ned saw an old gipsy-hag crossing the mead.
Straight he hailed her and said: “Woman, where do you hie?”
She replied: “To tell fortunes of females hard by.”
Now these females Ned found were his japlaping friends,
So he thought it the season to make them amends.
Then he brib'd for the cant and the gipsy's old clothes.
Thus equipped, said Ned: “Trick for trick: damn me, here goes!”
First Molly, the cook-maid, he took by the hand,
From her greasy palm told her what fortune had plann'd.
She was soon to be married, each year have a brat.
“Indeed,” cried the cooky, “how can you tell that?”
“I'll tell you the number,” said Ned, “let me see
The blue vein that's low plac'd 'twixt the navel and knee.”
When she pulled up her clothes, Ned exclaimed: “I declare
Your blue vein I can't see, 'tis so cover'd with hair.”
Next dairy-maid Dolly, of lechery full,
Swore she was then breeding, for she'd had the bull.
To the gipsy, said Doll: “Can you, old woman, tell,
Whether bull or cow-calf makes my belly so swell?”
When he viewed her blue vein, he said, “Doll by my troth,
You must find out two fathers, for you will have both.”
For the squire and the curate, when heated with ale,
Doll Dairy had milk'd in her amorous pail.
Now Kitty the housemaid, so frisky and fair,
Who smelt none the sweeter for carrotty hair,
Presenting her palm to the gipsy so shrewd,
Was candidly told that her nature was lewd.
While feeling the vein near her gold-girded nick,
Kate played the old gipsy a slippery trick,
So that Kate, who had ne'er been consider'd a whore,
Was told she'd miscarried the morning before.
Then came Peggy the prude, who no bawdy could bear,
Yet would tickle the lap-dog while combing his hair.
“Is the butler my sweetheart,” said Peggy, “sincere,
And shall we be married, pray, gipsy, this year?”
Quoth the gipsy: “You'll have him for better or worse,
But you'll find that his corkscrew is not worth a curse.
So when you are wed, 'twill be o'er the town talk'd:
There goes Peggy, a bottle, most damnably cork'd.”
Now Ned, thus revenged, bid the maidens good-day,
But, curious, they ask'd him a moment to stay.
“For,” said Molly the cook-maid, “we all long to see,
If you've a blue vein 'twixt the navel and knee.”
Ned pull'd up his clothes, sir, when, to their surprise
They beheld his blue vein of a wonderful size.
The sight, Kate the carrotty, couldn't withstand;
She grasped the blue vein till it burst in her hand.
So alarm'd the prude Peggy fell into strong fits,
Frightened cook and Doll Dairy went out of their wits.
Then carrotty Kitty to gipsy Ned spoke:
“We'll each give a guinea to stifle the joke.”
But Ned swore that no money should silence his tongue,
That the tale should be told in a mirth-moving song:
“As a caution,” cry'd Ned, “to all Abigails frail
That there's more fun in f—g that jalaping ale.”
The story like wildfire o'er Cambria spread,
From the borders of Chester to fam'd Holyhead.
In a vein of good humor, the vein that is blue,
Will long be remembered by me and by you;
Then fill a bright bumper to honour this vein,
A bumper of pleasure to badger all pain;
So hear us, celestials, gay mortals below!
Drink c—t, the blue vein, wherein floods of joy flow.
or MAY'S ACCOUNT OF HER INTRODUCTION TO THE ART OF LOVE.
From an Unsophisticated Manuscript, Found Amongst the OH Lady's Papers, After her Death, Supposed to have been written about A.D. 1797.
Nina got up and said: “And so I did keep close to Jenny and I have watched over her, and I it was who saw Mr. Boatswain's prick slip in and out of her cunt, and I have been watching her while he did it! What could be closer watching than that, Mrs. Murphy?”
“But he has promised to marry me,” called out Jenny.
“Yes,” said the boatswain, “I swear I will, but she must let me have a fuck every day until we are ashore.”
Mrs. Murphy was obliged to give her consent as she saw the mischief was done.
All our love-matters went on in much the same manner, until at last our brig reached London docks, when we wished Jenny and the boatswain good-bye, and with Nina and our luggage, Captain Lemberg took us to the hotel, where he usually put up when he returned from his voyages.
Captain Lemberg was very kind and chose a bedroom for myself and Nina next to his own, and both opened into a parlour intended for our mutual use.
Captain Lemberg decided I should remain a week or two at the hotel with him, to rest after the voyage and to see some of the sights of London, before I went to the school. In fact he told me he did not think I need go to school until he was obliged to return to the brig, which would be a couple of months, and I told him I would prefer to obey my father's wishes. So we decided I was to go to school in a week.
My father had given me a letter to hand to Madame Stewart, the school-mistress, who lived at Hampton Court.
Captain Lemberg took us to the theatres, which pleased me extremely, also to the Tower and Monument and British Museum.
The time passed very rapidly away in seeing the wonders of London by day and the theatres in the evening, and then we had nice suppers at our hotel and Nina and I retired to our bed, soon to be followed by Captain Lemberg to continue those loving fucking matches like those on the ship.
At last the week ended and Captain Lemberg took me in a coach to Madame Stewart together with Nina, who was to continue to wait on me as lady's-maid.
We had a little fucking in the coach and at last arrived at the school, which was a large house surrounded by ornamental grounds and gardens, enclosed by high walls. The grounds sloped down to the Thames, on the banks of which, of course, there was no wall.
Madame Stewart received the Captain and myself and Nina in a large drawing-room, and I handed her my father's letter and told her Nina was my servant.
She told Nina to retire for the present to the housekeeper's room.
Madame was a fine-looking woman of about fifty, with dark hair and eyes and a fine bust.
After reading the letter she kissed me and said she was acquainted with my father many years before and would try to make me happy, provided I obeyed the rules of her establishment.
Captain Lemberg then paid her £100 for one year's fees in advance and asked for a receipt.
Madame asked him to step into the next room with her as she kept her writing materials there, and she wished to ask him a few questions in private.
So pouring me out a glass of wine and giving me some cake and a book of pictures, they withdrew into the next room and shut the door.
You may be sure my eye was at the keyhole in a moment and I saw that the Captain had pulled out his prick! And I heard him say:
“Madame, I am entitled to the usual commission for bringing you a new pupil and I will take it in dog-fashion.”
“Hush!” said Madame, “or the young lady will hear you.”
“Nonsense—now get down on all fours so as not to derange your dress.”
Madame did so and the Captain tossing up her clothes exposed her bottom, and standing behind her, leant over her back and fucked her in that position.
When this was over they each took a chair and I overheard the following conversation:
madame S.—“Is this young lady a virgin?”
capt. L.—“Yes, as much as you are!”
madame S.—“Shall I read you the letter her father has
sent me?”
capt. L.—“I shall be delighted to hear it read.”
Madame then read the letter aloud, and I heard every word that follows:
My Dear Madame Stewart:
These will be handed to you by my daughter Kate, a fine girl just over twelve years of age. Captain Lemberg has kindly undertaken to see her safely to your house, and I have authorized him to pay you for the first year's expense, one hundred guineas.
My daughter's education has been neglected in such matters as penmanship, grammar, drawing, and music. Be pleased to spare no pains in instructing her in these.
In some other things she is in advance of her years. On account of living all her life on a slave plantation she has always seen boys, girls and women in a state of nakedness, so the difference in sex is familiar to her. She has seen men and women in the act of coition.
You will please pay special regard to her religious duties, and also try to inculcate that modest demeanour which is such a characteristic to your own movements that I shall never forget being struck with on occasion of my last visit to your school some fifteen years ago when I had the felicity of watching you slowly strip naked at noon before a large mirror in your dining-room previous to your honouring my pego with a visit to your fine quim.
Alas! Madam, these remembrances quite overpower me and make me regret the distance that separates us!
I have sent a very fair mulatto-girl named Nina, to wait on my daughter.
From your obedient servant,
Sebastian de Lorme.
P.S.—Nina is not a virgin although she is very tight in her cunny. She may be useful at your conversations. Neither Kate nor Nina have ever been birched.”
capt. L.—“What a very interesting letter. Do you use the birch still, Madame?”
madame.—“Certainly, when my young ladies deserve it.” Capt. Lemberg then insisted on having another fuck, for reading my father's letter of his interview with Madame Stewart had given him a cockstand.
So they had another bout and the Captain said he must leave. So I hastened from the keyhole and was apparently absorbed in my book when Madame and Captain entered the room.
The Captain kissed me as he bade me good-bye and thrust his tongue into my mouth as he did so, bidding me obey Madame in everything and all would be well.
He promised to take me for a day's holiday before the brig sailed if Madame would kindly consent.
I promised to endeavour to please Madame, and with another kiss he departed.
Madame Stewart then had a long talk with me and urged me to be candid and truthful in my answers to her questions. She asked: “Have you ever seen the slave men quite naked?”
“Yes.”
“And the slave women?”
“Yes.”
“And is it true that neither of them ever have any hair on their private parts?”
“Do you mean their cocks and cunts, Madame?”
“Yes, my dear.”
“Then it is not true, because I have seen short curly hair on those places, and in the case of the men, quite as much as was on my dear father's prick.”
“Do you mean to say you have seen your father's prick?”
“Yes, Madame, and felt it too!”
So I told her all my history, at which she was delighted and wanted to look at my cunny. I complied and she complimented me on my rich growth of hair.
She told me I must never let a man's prick enter my cunny without her consent being first obtained as she was desirous of shielding me from harm whilst I was under her roof; but she promised I should have all the coition that was good for me at proper times if I was diligent in my lessons.
You may be sure, dearest May, I was pleased with this intelligence and gave the required promise, thinking what a wise and kind schoolmistress she was.
I told her my father had fucked Nina and sent her to be my waiting-maid, and as we were very fond of each other I hoped she would allow us to be together as much as possible.
She agreed to this saying she quite understood from my father's letter that it was his wish Nina should be with me. She made me repeat the tale I had told her about my taking Nina's place in the garden with my father and also the scene with him just before the brig sailed.
Nina was then called into the room and I told her that Madame Stewart was a very kindly lady and was willing we should occupy the same room like we did at home.
Poor Nina was profuse in her thanks and asked permission to kiss Madame's feet as a token of her gratitude.
Madame then told us to follow her upstairs, and she took us down a long passage with bedrooms opening from both sides of it. Here she pointed out a room and told us it was ours, but shared with another girl, the daughter of a wealthy baronet, Sir Thomas Moreton.
The room had three narrow beds in it, as Madame said her rule was for each pupil to have a bed of her own.
Madame then kissed me and told me to read the rules, a copy of which was fastened on the wall. As nearly as I can recollect they ran as follows:
Rule I—Every pupil, before retiring to rest, must strip naked and wash her person in every part.
Rule II—No pupil may examine her secret part before the mirror.
Rule III—No pupil must occupy a bed that is not her own.
N.B.—The penalty for breaking either of these rules is one dozen stripes with the birch.
When Nina heard me read these rules she said: “But how will Madame know if we break them?”
I replied: “Perhaps the other girl will tell tales on us! Or, perhaps she will be a nice girl and we can do as we like.”
“Hush!” said Nina.
And Madame entered our room with Miss Moreton, saying, “Let me introduce you young ladies, as you will occupy this room together. Miss Moreton has been in this establishment for two years, so she knows all the girls and all the customs. You will soon get acquainted.”
Madame withdrew and Miss Moreton asked my age and who my father was and we were soon chatting away glibly.
She said she was sixteen and should leave the school next
holidays. Her name was Alice. She asked me if I had ever had a lover. I told her yes—Captain Lemberg—and that my father had sent me in his ship from home to England.
“Oh!” said Alice, “then you had a fine time together, I know! Please tell me all about it.”
I said I would someday, but now I wanted to know all about the girls at school as I was never at school before.
Alice was surprised at this but I informed her my mother died when I was young and my father would not part with me, but preferred teaching me himself.
Alice told me Madame was very strict with the new girls until she had the chance to whip them a few times, after which she was very indulgent.
She told me that Saturday evening was punishment time and she had found out that gentlemen were admitted to Madame's room to peep at the girls punished. I enquired how she knew that. She said I had no doubt noticed that the grounds reached the water's edge.
Well, said Alice, one Saturday Madame sent me into the garden to get some fruit the gardener had forgotten and I saw two boats stop at the boat-house. I hid behind some bushes and saw four gentlemen, muffled up in cloaks, walk up the path which leads to the side entrance of the house. They were admitted by Mrs. White, the housekeeper. My curiosity was excited, so I quickly brought Madame the fruit and ran into her private room, and crept under the sofa to listen, thinking I would be certain to find out something. Nor was I wrong in my conjecture, for in a few minutes Mrs. White ushers in the four gentlemen and two of them sit down on the very sofa I was under. They talked to each other about the superior manner in which Madame's establishment was conducted. Two of them said they had daughters at present in the school and hoped they would have broken some of the rules that week.
This remark astonished me but my surprise was greater when by the voice of the next speaker I recognized my own father, Sir Thomas Moreton! He had visited me that very morning, gave me a supply of pocket money, wished me goodbye and said he was going back home at once; and here he was in the same house!
The other speaker was the rector of the parish church, the Hon. and Rev. Algernon Stanley. I knew his voice, for in the course of the conversation he was addressed as Stanley by my father.
Evidently the party of four were acquaintances, for they all chatted away on good terms.
In a few moments I heard my father's voice:
“Well, gentlemen, I will bet you five pounds that when you see the punishment this evening you will allow my daughter's bottom to be the plumpest and most exciting of any you shall see tonight!”
rector.—“But suppose your daughter is not birched tonight?”
sir moreton.—“Then we will let the bet stand over till some other Saturday when she is flogged and we all are here.”
Here, dear Kate, was a revelation to me! My father and three other gentlemen evidently were here for the purpose of witnessing the punishments about to be inflicted on the schoolgirls' bottoms! And my father must have seen my bottom on some previous occasion, or how could he make this bet! I knew I was to be punished that evening for my name was on the blacklist.
How should I escape from under the sofa and reach the schoolroom? For my ambition was fired by my father's words of admiration about my plump bottom and I wanted him to win that bet!
Fortunately for my intentions, Madame came into the room and invited the gentlemen to adjourn upstairs.
Directly they were gone I crept from my hiding place and ran up to the schoolroom by the back staircase and seated myself at the piano and commenced practicing my exercises.
In a short time the German governess, Fraulein Hoffman, came to me and said:
“My dear you must prepare for punishment.”
“Yes, Fraulein,” I answered.
And, according to the custom, I retired to my bedroom, took off my form, skirts and corset and returned to the schoolroom in chemise, drawers and stockings, which was the regulation dress for punishment.
Three other girls were to be punished; one rebelled from Fraulein's order and had to be dragged to her room and undressed.
At last we heard a bell ring and each of us, the culprits, was escorted by a governess to the room especially used and fitted up for punishment. It was lighted from the roof and had ladders, Berkeley horses and other appliances, such as ropes from the ceiling, rings in the floor and ceiling to which to fasten refractory culprits.
On this occasion we were made to slowly take off our drawers and then kneel on a kind of table with our heads low down and our posteriors sticking well out, with our hands and ankles tied securely.
Next, our offences were read out to us by Madame as follows:
“Margaret Stanley, your offence is as usual peeing in bed. I give you notice that I intend telling the worthy rector, your uncle, of this most disgusting habit of yours.
“Emmeline Chesterfield, your offence is greediness in eating up the cake you brought from home, and not sharing it with your schoolfellows.
“Constance Le Ray, you were discovered viewing your naked person in the glass; such vanity must be checked by the rod.”
And then Madame read my name.
“Alice Moreton, your offence is one against decency. It is that of having received a letter from a lover whom you obstinately refuse to name or give any information as to how you have carried on this clandestine correspondence.
“I will read it aloud to you, Miss Alice Moreton, and I hope your cheeks will blush with shame as much as the cheeks of your bottom will blush under the rod, presently. This is the horrid letter:
My Dear Alice:
How I do long for another kiss on the lips of your pussey! The last I had was delicious! I dream of you every night and sometimes fancy I am in one of those high pews at church with your naked bottom sitting in my face, so I can kiss and suck your pussey! At other times in my dreams you catch hold of me by the cock and sing: “I will not let thee go, unless you fuck me!”
You cannot wonder at these dreams, sweetheart, for they are only repetitions of the facts of the day!
Give my love to Madame and asked her to notice the beauty of your cunny!
From your devoted love,
Henry.
Madame having finished the letter told the governesses to commence flogging us, and to strike as she called out, One, Two, Three.
They were stationed close to our heads so they had to strike over our backs to reach our bottoms, which were turned towards the end of the room at which Madame was seated on a dais, raised up six steps above the level of the floor.
I remembered the conversation of the gentlemen and the bet of my dear father, and I had no doubt they were watching us from some secret peep-hole, or were perhaps under the dais. So at every blow of the rod I writhed and twisted my posteriors as much as possible, in order to display all its beauties.
Margaret received fifty stripes, Emmeline sixty, Constance eighty, and I, the greatest offender, received one hundred, which caused me to faint away.
What do you think of that, Kate dear?
I told her I thought it was a great shame and asked if the gentlemen ever came again.
Alice said no doubt they did although she had never had an opportunity of proving it; still, on Saturdays occasionally she had slipped into the garden and found boats moored to the boat-house. “However, my dear Katie, I have told you all I know, perhaps someday we will make more discoveries.”
Kate said she warmly thanked Alice for telling her all the circumstances, and they kissed and went to bed.
A
About this time I received a letter from Susey, who, when the vacation commenced, went to her uncle in Scotland, and I may as well give her adventures in her own words:
My Darling May:
You remember the morning you took leave of me, I had to walk a mile to meet the coach. John Cox, my sister Jane's intended husband, came to start me off, and he carried my box on his shoulder as we walked across the fields and down to the crossroads where the coach takes up passengers.
John told me he and Jane were soon to be married, and he said her belly was so big that it looked beautiful.
I asked him what made it so big and he laughed as he said: “Why, Susey, because I have made a baby inside of it to be sure, you little goose!”
John also said that he was now obliged to fuck Jane behind, because her belly sticking out quite prevented his approaching the front.
He told me that he had a special message from Jane to me which was to be sure to do my pee just before getting on the coach, as I should have to ride for many hours and it was very painful to be obliged to hold your water.
“So,” says John, “you had better squat down at once, and I can see your little cunt at the same time.”
So I got close to some bushes and had a good pee and John had a good look at my cunny, and afterwards kissed and sucked it. Just then we heard the guard's horn announcing the near approach of the coach. So I had only time to give John's prick a farewell kiss, and then we hurried to the little ale-house at the crossroads.
The coach was full inside so I had to take an outside seat, and as there was no ladder I climbed up as well as I could. But I felt John's hand on my thigh as he stood beneath me.
When the coach started I looked at my fellow passengers and saw there were two gentlemen—one evidently a clergyman and the other, from remarks made, was his son, apparently about my own age. He asked me how far I was going and I replied, to Scotland.
“Have you never been there before?”
“No, sir,” I replied;
“They have some very curious customs in Scotland,” he said.
“What are they?” was my enquiry.
“The wearing of the kilt, for instance,” said he.
“I do not know what a kilt is,” was my reply.
“I will show you a picture of a Scotsman dressed in his kilt,” said he, taking a book from his coat-pocket, and turning over the leaves, he showed me the picture of a tall man with naked knees and a short petticoat which he explained was the kilt.
I laughed at the odd figure in the picture and asked: “Do
the Scotch girls and women dress like that too? If so, they must be cold.”
“I wish they did,” said he, “don't you, father?”
“Well, my son, it would have a very delightful effect, no doubt,” said the clergyman.
I interposed: “But the poor man must feel very cold here.”
“Not at all,” said the clergyman. “When I was at college as a young man, I wore that dress once at a fancy ball and found it very comfortable.”
“Did you waltz in your kilt?” I asked.
“Yes, certainly, and why not?”
“Because I should think the whirling motion of dancing would cause your kilt to fly up and expose your . . .” and I stopped suddenly—laughing.
“Bottom, you were going to say, my dear! And where would be the harm in that? Ladies like to get a glimpse at a man's bottom sometimes,” said he.
“I'm sure they don't,” I replied.
“Oh,” said the son, “you think the ladies would rather look at him before than behind, eh? Well, what do you say at this picture,” and he moved aside the kilt, which was a separate piece of paper, and showed me the Scotsman's prick in full erection.
“That's more in your way, my dear,” said he. Then speaking to the clergyman, he said: “Father, this young lady, evidently, from her blushes, thinks a man's prick is more beautiful than his bottom.”
“I am very glad to hear it,” said he, “for it proves that her education has not been neglected and that she has learnt from her catechism: 'What is the chief end of man?'“
(To be continued.)
by CHARLES.
That I have not ere this alluded to the Earl of Pomeroy, by whom I was specially engaged and to whom my services were due as well as to the Countess, must be attributed to the fact that almost immediately on my entering upon my duties, as recorded in this veracious narrative, His Lordship had joined a shooting-party at the Duke of Dashwood's, with whom the Earl was particularly intimate. Indeed, common report went so far as to say that His Lordship was still more intimate with the Duchess and that his Grace seemed to be perfectly indifferent on the subject.
Report as a general rule is a sad liar, but I strongly suspect (indeed, I had reason subsequently to know) that in this instance there was a good deal of truth in the rumour. Be that as it may, their Graces, accompanied by their daughter, the Lady Georgiana, were making a return visit to the Earl and Countess of Pomeroy, both of whom (very sensibly, as they might have need of my services) took care to make me acquainted with certain peculiarities of their noble guests.
As the Countess's remarks and suggestions were by far the more concise, I shall take them first in order.
She commenced by saying that she hated them all three. Father, mother and daughter. His Grace she described as a great heavy man, fond of good eating, hard drinking and riding, and that in matters pertaining to women he was a gross sensualist.
People had even been kind enough to couple her name with his, which she need not say was a base fabrication.
“Of course, my Lady,” I ventured to interrupt.
She then went on to say that nothing would induce her to have anything to do with such a brute and that she would leave him to his liaisons with chambermaids and housemaids, whom he had the bad taste to prefer and to whom he conducted himself in such a style as to render him a nuisance in any country-house where he happened to be staying.
“On the last occasion when he was here,” my Lady continued, “he had the impudence to make improper advances to my maid Justine, but I very soon put a stop to that. Indeed, I think that Justine herself had too much good taste to permit such a thing.”
Here I may notice, en passant, that while I cordially subscribed to Justine's good taste as far as I was personally concerned, yet I had my private doubts about that young lady resisting temptation, especially if a heavy bribe were offered.
But I am interrupting the course of the Lady's remarks.
“If his Grace condescends to make paramours about the girls' bedrooms, generally it's no business of mine, as long as the housekeeper does not call my attention to the degrading circumstances. If the girls get into mischief I am sorry for them and they must leave, that is all.”
This was all my Lady had to say about his Grace of Dash-wood, and pretty much too, you'll say.
The Duchess came next in consideration. She, it appeared, was very handsome, though dark. This was quite true, her Grace presenting a marked contrast in appearance to my mistress, who, as I think I have before noticed, had bright brown hair. The head and front of her offence was, in Lady Pomeroy's opinion, not only that she, the Duchess, kept up a constant and most undisguised improper intimacy with the Earl, but had the effrontery to presume to be on the most affectionate terms with herself, the Countess.
“Just as if,” continued that indignant lady, “she could fancy me so stupidly blind as not to perceive what was going on almost under my very nose. Why, the very fact of not concealing it is an insult in itself!” And I must say that I quite agreed with her there.
As to the Lady Georgiana, my mistress considered her a handsome aristocratic young lady, who had nothing but the accident of her birth to justify her excessive haughtiness and who affected to consider all other people, and the male sex in particular, as so much dirt under her feet.
“That part of the business,” continued my Lady, “I am convinced is all sheer nonsense, and in reality she is as sensually inclined, body and soul, as either her father or mother, and that will be found out someday, I feel perfectly certain.” As the Countess emphasized the last remarks, I could not help fancying that she glanced at me in a peculiar way.
Could it be that she had designed me as the instrument for lowering the pride of the haughty Lady Georgiana?
As to the characters of the gentleman's valet and the lady's femme de chambre, she merely premised that they were a trifle worse than usual among persons in their situations. The rest I might find out for myself.
Then reminding me of my pledge of secrecy and the peculiar bond by which she had secured my fidelity, we forgot for a few minutes our relative positions as Lady and servant.
I had been standing respectfully in front of Her Ladyship, but at the conclusion of her explanatory remarks on the virtues and vices of her guests, she motioned me to draw closer as she wished to ascertain for herself if I had been wasting on others that which I ought to keep so as to be always in readiness to minister to her requirements.
Opening my trousers with her own delicate hands, she pulled out my rapidly rising organ of pleasure, and drawing back the foreskin, exclaimed: “Ah! you have been good! I can easily tell if the prepuce is all red that you have been obliging someone else within five hours. But this jewel is pale and I see no traces of recent excitement.”
I fell on my knees and offered the devotions of my tongue at her shrine of love, then followed that up by a most salacious sucking, till she was content and graciously dismissed me, in order that I might be in immediate attendance on the Earl, who summoned me, and as his guests had just arrived, I lost no time in waiting on my master.
As of course the new arrivals were at once shown to the apartments destined for them, it afforded a capital opportunity for my Lord to order me to follow him to his dressing-room. The private instructions and directions I there received were, as the reader will see, slightly different to the suggestions thrown out by Lady Pomeroy.
To begin with, His Lordship expressed his strong opinion that the Lady was guilty of infidelity and that the partner of her misdemeanour was no other than his most intimate friend, the Duke of Dashwood.
Of course, I knew better than this, but as I was supposed to know nothing, I said nothing.
I think His Lordship tried hard to persuade himself that the case was such, in order to try and make some small excuse for his conduct with regard to the Duchess. This, indeed, he hardly tried to conceal.
He was far from entertaining the same opinion of Monsieur Duroque and Mademoiselle Juliette, the valet and femme de chambre of the Duke and Duchess, which was held by the Countess. Indeed he represented that couple as the most valuable and trustworthy of their class, especially recommending Juliette to my notice. She and I would, it appeared, be the means of communication between the Duchess and himself in the way of verbal messages, notes or otherwise, and therefore it was highly desirable that I should cultivate the young woman's acquaintance.
“You have my full permission to fuck her, and make yourself as agreeable as possible. Then I can depend upon you both. There's nothing like that to ensure discretion in love matters,” he added.
This, from the estimate I formed of her character and judging from her personal appearance, I considered I should not have much difficulty in doing.
My final instructions were not to fail in my attendance on my Lady and to report to him anything worthy of notice, particularly between her and the Duke.
This I faithfully promised to do, feeling pretty confident that I should notice nothing in that quarter, and mentally resolving that any other eccentricities of my Lady as developed in respect to myself should not be considered worthy of notice.
So far, so good. And when my services to Her Ladyship were concluded, little did he guess in what some of those services consisted, or with what pleasure they were given.
I was to attend His Lordship in his dressing-room as he would most likely require me.
Upon this I bowed and withdrew, and my Lady having a good deal of company to entertain at dinner, subsequently retired rather fatigued about eleven o'clock. I was at liberty to retire and repaired at once to my Lord's dressing-room. There I waited until nearly twelve when, making his appearance, he demanded if anyone had called there with a note for him.
I was in the very act of replying in the negative when a tap was heard at the door and opening it, entered Juliette.
She hesitated a little on seeing me, but on the holding out of his hand as if expecting something, she placed in it a small note. On reading it, he nodded his head and smiled, saying to the bearer, “Your mistress is retiring, I suppose?”
On receiving an answer in the affirmative he further asked whether his Grace was in bed or making any preparations for going to bed?
To this the clever soubrette replied that she had just seen Duroque, who had informed her that the Duke had taken a good deal of wine and seemed quite disposed for bed and would probably sleep soundly.
Upon receiving this information, my Lord dismissed me, as there was little possibility of my services being required that night in the espionage department, and it is to be presumed that he could manage anything else perfectly well without my assistance.
Tired as I was, I was undressing myself very leisurely but had nearly concluded that operation, when, lo! the door of my room quietly opened.
I never locked it for fear of being suddenly and secretly summoned.
Who the opener might be, of course, I could not tell, but I certainly did not expect to see Mademoiselle Juliette.
Putting her finger to her lips as a sign of silence and secrecy, she informed me that the Duke was up and evidently bound on some nocturnal ramble, and that she, being in the Duchess's room, Lord Pomeroy (it is to be presumed that he was there too) had begged her to awake me, and desire me to look after his Grace as there was every reason to fear that his destination was the apartment of the Countess.
“So don't sit there staring like an owl in the sunshine,” exclaimed the impudent black-eyed girl. “Get up and put your breeches on and I'll help you.”
Now I beg to assure my kind readers that at this moment I was in that particular costume in which Charles Lever describes his hero, Harry Lorrequer, being discovered when the bell rang to draw up the curtain at some private theatricals: to wit, a shirt and silk stockings.
Nothing more, upon my honour!
And I leave it to any to say whether it was a delicate operation for a modest young man to undergo to be assisted in pulling on his breeches by an impudent black-eyed soubrette.
The chastest Joseph that ever lived must have yielded to the temptation, and the stupidest gawky of a piously brought-up lout must guess what followed.
I picked up my trousers from the chair upon which they had been flung as I undressed, and pretending to bungle as I bashfully attempted to hide John Thomas, who at the bare idea of a bit of anything fresh, was in his usual unruly state.
“La!” she exclaimed as her hand touched my projecting shirt, “is it anything that will bite?”
“Yes love, but not anything to hurt a darling like you. Won't you stroke his pretty head? It's a pet with all the ladies,” I replied, pulling up my shirt and presenting the Vade mecum of pleasure to her eyes.
Juliette at once flushed crimson as she covered her face at the sight, ejaculating: “How dare you, sir? I'll tell the Countess!”
“Not before you've enjoyed it, however, and then you can give me a reference for gallantry as well, which may do me a great service. You're in for it, now, Miss Juliette,” I said, shoving her towards the bed, and in spite of her resistance, I soon had her clothes up and got between as beautiful a pair of thighs as I ever saw (she had no drawers on). It wanted only the electric touch of Mr. Pego to make her surrender all discretion. Ah, what an engagement we had, yard-arm to yard-arm, as Jack Tar would say! In fact I fired into her porthole till she surrendered and went off into a faint of ecstasy.
I shall never forget it, short as the fuck was, it was one of the most enjoyable I remember. Time was precious and she soon kissed and forgave my boldness, for, of course, it was only what the young lady had hoped and expected, and so I trust she was satisfied. But now I had to attend to business.
Finding that the Duke had indeed left his room, I proceeded in search of his Grace, not in the direction suggested by Juliette, but in quite another direction than towards my Lady Pomeroy's apartments, to where the under-servants slept. Comfortable rooms enough they were, too.
Now I was perfectly aware that Sophy and Lucy, the two housemaids, slept in one room. There I thought would be my mark, and there, sure enough, I found his Grace evidently on the most affectionate terms with the two young women, whose charms, though not of the most aristocratic class, were by no means to be despised; for he was paying them very liberally in advance, and so I had to remain and see whether he fell into the snare which sometimes awaits the bad paymasters who pay in advance, or I should make but a poor report to my employers. But, no, I had the gratification of witnessing through the medium of the keyhole (after rather a tedious observation, however, for were there not two young women?) that “there is honour among housemaids” and that if his Grace of Dashwood did not get his money's worth it was not the fault of Sophy and Lucy!
(To be continued.)
There was a young bride of Antigua,
Whose husband had said: “Dear me, how big you are!”
Said the girl: “What damn'd rot,
Why, you've often felt my twot,
My legs and my arse and my figua!”
There once was a young man of Bulgaria,
Who once went to piss down an area,
Said Mary to cook:
“Oh, do come and look,
Did you ever see anything hairier?”
The Editor has received the following from a subscriber:
“One often hears: 'No standing pricks this weather,' or, 'It's a difficult thing to find it, etc., during a severe winter,' but one intensely cold morning, just as we were getting up, my wife looking out of the window, drew my attention to a poor cat which had been out all night, expressing her sympathy for the poor beast. Presently I looked into the backyard for myself, when, lo! there were two cats, the feminine rolling on her back in the most approved fashion of cat-courtship, when the lady is agreeable to the gentleman's attentions. The thermometer at twenty-six degrees below freezing made no difficulty with him. He was on to her and into her in a moment, the only difference being that he, and in fact both of them, were more ready than on a warm summer's night, when we all know to our cost, the long preliminary caterwauling, scratching, etc., necessary to bring Mr. Tom to the point.”
N.B.—I suppose scratching with cats has the same effect as birching on human beings.
THE LOVER'S KISS.
“Give me, my love, that billing kiss,
I taught you one delicious night,
When, turning epicures in delight,
We tried inventions of bliss.
Come gently steal my lips along,
And let your lips in murmurs move;
Ah, no—again—that kiss was wrong,
How can you be so dull, my love?”
“Cease, cease,” the blushing girl replied,
And in her milky arms she caught me;
“How can you thus your pupil chide?
You know 'twas in the dark you taught me!”
AMENITIES OF LEICESTER SQUARE.
Girl to Ponce:—Go along, you bloody Mary Ann, and tighten your arse-hole with alum.
English Whore to French Woman:—Yah, you foreign bitches can only get a man by promising them a bottom-fuck!
French Woman:—Yes, I do let the English gentlemen have my arse-hole but my cunt I do keep for my husband.
TOASTS.
Gent:—The first four letters of the alphabet—A Big Cunt Daily.
Lady:—In with it, and out with it, and God work his will with it.
or MAY'S ACCOUNT OF HER INTRODUCTION TO THE ART OF LOVE.
From an Unsophisticated Manuscript, Found Amongst the Old Lady's Papers, After Her Death, Supposed to Have Been Written About A.D. 1797
“My dear father,” said the young man, “we have the back part of the coach to ourselves and the guard is sitting with the coachman, so we are quite private here. Would it not be a good opportunity for letting this young lady look at your reverend prick?”
“Most certainly, my son,” replied the clergyman, unbuttoning his trousers. “I am always ready to please the ladies.”
So he pulled out his noble tool, fondly stroking it. “There, Miss, there is something for a man to be proud of, and I am proud to have such a father,”
“I hope you may have just such another someday,” I said.
“Thank you, my dear,” said he, “I will show you what I have at present.”
And he exhibited his own prick. I told him it was as big as he had any reason to expect, and he quite agreed with me and then regretted the fact that our being outside the coach would prevent his father and himself from looking at anything I would like to show them. “But,” continued he, “the coach will stop to change horses in a few minutes' time, and then the passengers generally get down and go inside the inn for half-an-hour for refreshments. But my father, the rector, is well known to the landlord and we will ask for a private room and take our refreshments there; and then, Miss Susan, you will have the wished-for opportunity.”
By the time he had finished speaking we arrived at the Royal George, and the parson and his son helped me down from the coach, and I soon found myself in an upstairs parlour with them. They told me their journey terminated there, as they had to drive in a gig to their home, five miles distant, and they both begged me to lose no time.
I replied: “I am in your hands, gentlemen! Only don't harm me.”
They promised they would not, and the father then raised my clothes, called his son's attention to my white thighs and the pouting lips of my cunt.
Both father and son kissed and sucked it for a few minutes and then the father insisted on his son having a fuck before he had one.
By the time each had finished, the horn blew the warning to get ready. So hastily swallowing a glass of wine, I arranged my clothes and bade them good-bye.
They accompanied me to the coach and this time I was able to get inside, there being one place vacant, and the parson kindly paying the difference in fare.
With mutual farewells the coach started again and I looked at my fellow passengers and found one who appeared young, the other two being grey-haired gentlemen.
They all accosted me very politely and hoped we should have a pleasant journey together.
The young man enquired how far I was going and when I replied to Edinburgh, he expressed his pleasure that we should be going to the same city.
“What a fortunate circumstance,” said he, “that you were not travelling by this coach last week.”
“How so?”
“Because the notorious Dick Turpin and his gang stopped the coach just a little way from here and robbed the passengers, and used the ladies very cruelly.”
“Oh! how you frighten me! Do tell me all about it,” said I.
The elderly gentleman opposite now spoke and said:
“I can give you the correct account, for I was one of the passengers and one of the victims, I may say.”
“Oh, do tell me if there is any danger of Dick Turpin coming again today?” I asked.
“Not the slightest,” said the old gentleman, “and that is the reason why I am travelling again so soon. Besides, I am armed with my horse-pistols.”
“Oh,” said I, “don't show them to me, I am so terribly frightened! But tell me about the villains.”
The old gentleman continued: “It was just about three in the afternoon when, as we were bowling along, as we are now, I heard several horsemen' ride up on each side of the coach and call to the coachman to stop or he should be shot. And two shots were fired at him, and one wounded him, the other broke the lamp.
“Of course the coach was stopped and the robbers then called: 'Stand out and deliver your money and valuables, or you are all dead men.'
“There must have been ten or twelve men—some on foot, and some on horseback.
“I should mention that the inside of the coach was occupied by some girls going to York to school. There were four besides their mistress and outside there were four more girls—that makes nine ladies, and there were six men passengers besides the coachman and guard.
“I should say that two of the misses were my grandchildren, aged about thirteen and fourteen.
“Well, the villains first looked inside the coach and made the madame give up her gold watch and rings, then they made us men come down and stand in the road while they searched our pockets, one man standing with the muzzle of a pistol pressed close to my forehead while he searched my pockets.
“When this was done, they abused us for giving them so much trouble for so little money and declared they would be revenged on the women for it.
“I begged them to spare my poor grandchildren.
“ 'Point them out,' said one of the villains.
“I did so, thinking that he was going to listen to my requests, but no; to my surprise he tied their hands behind them and then lifted up their clothes and threw them over their heads, exposing their bodies from the waist downwards!
“I rushed forward to replace their clothing when two of the villains caught hold of me and tied my hands behind my back, and then to my indignation, they actually cut open my breeches in front and pulled out my prick.”
“Horrible!” I exclaimed.
“Monstrous,” said the young man.
“Yes,” continued the old man, “and that is not all. There is something more horrible to tell.”
“Oh, do tell,” said I.
“Pray,” said the young man, “continue.”
“Well, the villains made me kneel down and kiss the slits of my two granddaughters and made me suck them and push in my tongue! Then they uncovered the poor girls' faces, and tying their clothes tight under their arms, ordered them to suck my cock! In vain they and I protested. A loaded pistol fired off close to our ears was the warning of what our fate should be if we disobeyed. So first one and then the other dear girl went through the task. And the villains made me say the sucking was pleasant!”
“And what did you say?”
“Of course I told the truth, that the sucking gave me great pleasure.”
“And what became of the other men who were passengers?”
“Oh, they were made to suck the slits of the schoolgirls and to submit to have their pricks sucked in turn.”
“And how did the school-madame fare?”
“Oh, the villains grossly insulted her by examining her cunt, and telling her she was too old to allow them to give her any pleasure of that kind, so they cut a bunch of twigs from the bushes and forced her on all fours, bared her backside and gave her a good flogging.”
“Do you mean to state that all these outrages took place on the high-turnpike road?”
“Well, yes, that is to say, close to it, for there was a piece of turf or grass-land rather wide at the side of the road at this place. In fact, there were a few trees and bushes growing there.”
“Did no person pass in travelling along the road, while this took place, for it must have taken some time?”
“Yes, it took an hour or more, but a fanner with his wife riding behind on a pillion, and one wagon loaded with hay accompanied by the wagoner, were all that passed by during the time. Part of the hay was unloaded to serve for beds on which to extend the unfortunate lady-passengers and the farmer was compelled to fuck his wife in public.”
“Did Dick Turpin take part in these outrages?”
“No, he told his men to fuck any way they took a fancy to, but he kept watch most of the time and gave the necessary directions to his men so that several of them kept watch in turn, while the others committed these outrages on their victims.”
“Do you mean to say that the ten schoolgirls were all raped and their maidenheads taken?”
“Certainly; if they had any to lose! They were all fucked before my eyes.”
“How did it all end?”
“Oh, after a while Captain Dick said: “That's enough for this time, boys. Mount and away!' And so they rode off leaving all the victims tied and bound until some passer-by should come and relieve them. Of course we called for help directly after our tormentors had left us and in half-an-hour some foot passengers and also the returning mail-coach came by and released our bonds and we all made the best of our ways to our destinations.”
The young man now spoke. “It is all quite true, Miss, I assure you; I was one of the passengers by the down-mail on that occasion and I saw the condition of the ten schoolgirls as described by our friend here. They were all tied to trees with their arms behind them, and their clothing raised and tied close to their shoulders so as to expose their bellies and all below.
“I could not help being delighted with the sight, although of course I pitied the poor things, and I delayed helping to release them in order to have a good view of their naked charms. I was much amused at the remarks of a worthy tradesman and his wife who were also looking at those schoolgirls. The wife spoke sharply: 'Well, Mr. Jones, I am ashamed of you to stand staring like a stuck pig at those naked shameless young hussies. Why don't they put their dresses down?'
“ 'Well, my dear,' said her husband, 'they have their hands tied behind their backs and can't help themselves, and as to my looking at them, my excuse is I never saw such a sight before! Why, there are ten naked bellies for me to look at and four have hardly any hair on their slits and the others all have black hair on them, but one, and she...'
“Here his wife angrily interposed: 'You have made good use of your eyes for these few minutes, Mr. Jones; I must say I am astonished at you, a married man and the father of six girls and four boys, so to demean yourself! Why don't you shut your eyes until this disgraceful exhibition is over?'
“ 'No, Mrs. Jones, I am not going to close my eyes! I may be called as a witness against the villains if ever they are caught, and if I shut my eyes how am I to describe to the jury the cruel state in which the girls are left?'
“ 'Well,' said his wife, 'had you not better try and catch those villains?'
“ 'No, my dear, my duty does not lie in that direction.'
“ 'Nor your inclination either,' retorted his wife, 'for evidently you prefer the safer course of feasting your eyes on these poor girls' nakedness.'
“ 'Well, my dear, you know I am always delighted to look at yours but you so seldom allow me to do so.'
“ 'I should think not, indeed,' said Mrs. Jones, 'and that reminds me that last Sunday I saw you take two of our daughters on your knee and I think you had your hands under their clothes!'
“ 'Nonsense! Mrs. Jones, only a little play and romping, for my girls are very fond of their old father; besides it is a father's duty to see if his girls' underclothes are clean and in the fashion.'
“ 'Now, Mr. Jones, do be quiet. What right has a man to be troubling himself about his girls' clothing?'
“ 'Why what I buy and pay for with my own money I have the right to examine, and you know I should never have married you if I had not examined you first!'
“ 'For shame, Mr. Jones, to speak about that here in the open air where anyone might overhear you!'
“ 'Now Mary Ann, dear, will you untie these poor girls' clothes from their necks and help me undo their hands?'
“So I then offered my assistance to several of the girls and helped to put their clothing down over their bellies, taking care to touch much of their naked bodies in doing so, and getting my hand on each of their bellies in the performance of this duty.
“I ought to mention that the place where these outrages took place was a kind of valley between two hills, and where a house was not in sight for many miles. It was up a lane through this valley that the highway-men came on horseback to do their unlawful work, and when they had completed it they went away down the valley again.”
At this moment as the young man finished his account the coach gave a lurch forward, probably from the coachman suddenly whipping up the horses; however, I found myself flung against the elderly man sitting opposite me and he caught me firmly in his arms and kissed me, saying: “God bless me, Miss, don't be frightened, come to my arms, I'll take care of you.”
I replied I could not help it and then felt a hand passing up my thighs from behind, and another hand patting my bottom.
I cried out: “Oh, this conduct is most shameful gentlemen, do leave a poor girl alone!”
“Why, what's the matter, my dear?” said the young man.
“Nobody is touching you,” growled the old gentleman.
“Well, my dear, I am kissing you,” said the one on whom I had been thrown.
“I know that,” I replied, “but more than that has been done to me.”
“Well,” said he, “I am a magistrate and my name is Squire Johnson, and if you will sit by my side and make your complaint you shall have justice done to you.”
The other elderly-looking gentleman said: “Well, Squire Johnson you have known me for years as the parson of the parish and my name is the Rev. Mr. Scarlett and I expect you to take my oath against any other person's.”
The young gentleman now spoke: “Oh, I am a medical student going home from college. My name is Charley Stuart and I am sure to fall in love with every pretty girl I see, especially such an angel as this!” giving me a most loving look.
“Now, then,” said Squire Johnson, “if you, Miss, will give us your name we will proceed.”
I replied: “My name is Susan Gardiner and I charge Parson Scarlett and Charley Stuart with touching my naked body.”
Squire Johnson wrote this down in his pocket-book and then said: “Miss Susan, you say you charge these gentlemen with an indecent assault! Please state the particulars.”
I did so, saying the Parson put his hand on my bottom, “when the coach by that sudden jerk threw me into your arms and you kissed me. The other gentleman, called Charley Stuart, put one of his hands between my thighs, very high up, at the same time.”
squire johnson.—“Now Parson, what is your reply to those charges?”
parson.—“Oh, I saw the young lady's petticoats disarranged and I tried to replace them.”
squire j.—“And you, Charley Stuart?”
charley.—“Oh, I plead guilty and promise not to do it again until the next time.”
squire J.—“Gentlemen, from your replies I am quite satisfied that you are both guilty of the offence charged against you; and my sentence is that you each pay Miss Susan immediately the sum of half-a-crown, that you each beg her pardon and that you each offer to show her your pricks. Come, Parson, you first, out of respect of your cloth, as you are in holy orders.”
parson.—“Never did I hear a more impartial and righteous sentence.”
So he paid me the half-crown at once and pulled out his tool; it was short and thick with an enormous red head.
Charley said: “See Miss Susan, I offer you this half-crown for the sweet kisses you gave me. Here, balanced on the head of my prick and it is cheap enough.”
And Squire J.—“Now, Miss Susan, I offer you this half-crown, and as it is now four o'clock, before the coach will stop, I propose that you should give us some entertainment —and answer all our questions truthfully.”
parson.—“Also obey us in all our wishes.”
charley.—“And Miss Susan, if you do, you shall be paid a guinea from me.”
squire.—“And another from me.”
parson.—“And I will give another, that will make three golden guineas! Think, what a lot of money!”
Dear May, do not blame me for acceding to their wishes. I knew I was completely in their power, and then the presents of the guineas! It seemed riches indeed to me, who had never possessed more than a few shillings at one time in my life.
So I dried my tears and taking up the three half-crowns, said: “Do not harm me, good gentlemen! I will agree to your proposals and trust to your honour, as I am only a girl entirely at your mercy, but I should vastly like three guineas.”
“A very sensible good girl,” said the Parson.
“You are an angel,” said Charley.
parson.—“I will ask Miss Susan if she has any hair on her little slit?”
“Yes,” I replied.
squire.—“What colour?”
“Light red”
“Did you ever allow a man to look at your cunt?” said Charley.
“Yes.”
parson.—“And suck it, I'll be bound?”
charley.—“And kiss it?”
“Yes.”
squire.—“Then Miss Susan shall be laid across the laps of two of us, and the other shall kiss and suck her pretty cunny.”
“Agreed!” they all cried.
And this was done in succession, until all three had had their turn. To do this my petticoats and smock were raised so as to expose to view my thighs and belly. Then each gentleman knelt on the floor of the coach and kissed and sucked my cunny.
The Parson asked: “How much time, Squire, do we have before the coach stops?”
“Three hours.”
The Parson then said: “That will be ample time for Miss Susan to strip herself naked, and to let us enjoy looking at her charms in the nude state.”
“Yes,” said the Squire, “plenty of time.”
I replied that I should take cold.
“No, I'll take care of that,” said Charley. “I will keep you warm. I will give you brandy from this bottle.”
“But I shall be seen by passers-by,” again I objected.
But the Parson and Squire agreed to keep the curtain of the coach-windows drawn down, sufficient to prevent all chance of anyone seeing me.
“Now,” said Charley, “I will be your lady's-maid and disrobe you.”
He then took off my bonnet and shawl, then my frock stays and petticoats. I begged hard to be allowed to retain my smock, but all in vain as the Parson said it would interfere with the full view of my naked body; besides, he said: “Eve was naked in the Garden of Eden, so there's Scripture for you, Miss Susan.”
I was praised for the whiteness and firmness of my skin, and my shape was much admired.
Two of them sat on one seat of the coach and one on the other, with their knees as close to one another as possible, and on this broad lap I was laid and rolled over and over, their hands roving over my back, shoulders and bosom, belly and bottom, in succession, one pointing out to the other some attraction that he specially admired.
My mouth and both hands were next occupied with three pricks at once, and I was obliged to change from one to the other, until each had his prick sucked.
Next I was seated between two of them on the edge of the seat. Then they raised my legs higher than my head, and told me to jut my belly well forward. This had the effect of exposing my bottom-hole as well as my cunny. Then one gentleman would fuck me in this position and then the others would change places, until all three had fucked me. But I will say, they all withdrew their pricks before spending and spouted their sperm over my belly, as it was solemnly promised by them all that there should be no risk of getting me with a child.
By the time they managed to get a couple of fucks each, the time came for me to resume my clothing, which I was thankful to do. And I was only decently dressed when the guard's horn warned us the coach was about to stop.
I was glad to learn we had to stop one hour for dinner, but was amused at Charley telling the chambermaid I was his wife, and so accompanying me up to the bedroom where he actually produced the pot from under the bed and made me sit down and do my pee, while he, lying at full length on the floor with his head close to my belly, watched the waterfall, as he called it.
Then he went down the stairs with me to the dinner-table, where we all did justice to the repast and had some good wine.
My companions were all very attentive to my wants and paid my score between them.
We then resumed our places in the coach as before, the coachman telling us we should have another four hours without stopping at all.
I noticed the Parson and Squire soon felt the efforts of their wine and good feeding, for they were soon sound asleep and snoring.
Charley said he was glad of that as now he could have me all to himself. So we first had a mutual prick-and-cunt-sucking match, each trying to hold back the juice of love as long as possible.
Next, sitting in Charley's lap with his tool ensconced in my cunny, I gently rode up and down, till he was compelled to withdraw and spend all over my belly.
We tired ourselves out with our varied loving encounters and at last we both fell asleep and were only aroused by the guard's horn announcing our arrival at our destination in Edinburgh.
My uncle was waiting for me at the inn and after thanking my travelling companions for their polite attentions, I took my uncle's arm and walked with him to his home.
My uncle kept talking all the way and enquired the name of my late companions.
I answered truthfully and he was pleased to think I had been in such good respectable society: “For,” said he, “now-a-days there are so many villains about that a young girl might be ruined before she knew her danger.”
I mentally resolved to act the part of an innocent girl in dear uncle's presence and also I determined to put in practice the instructions of Charley Stuart, who, being a medical student, told me many things about a woman's private parts that I did not know before. One thing he told me was to get a lump of alum and push it up in my cunny and keep it there all night. It would act as an astringent and make it as tight as a virgin's cunny. And he also advised me to use a solution of alum in water with a female syringe as often during the day as was convenient.
Dear May, I advise you to do the same. When you send a messenger to buy the alum you can say it is for a sore throat or to use in dyeing—as it is used for both those purposes. Only, dear May, let me give you a caution—don't let the piece of alum be very large, for I will tell you what a fright I had.
One night I put a lump as large as a hen's egg up my cunny and in the morning I could not get it out! It had caused such a contraction of the inside folds of my cunny that I could barely insert the tip of my finger so you may imagine my dilemma. At last I thought: “Why of course, hot water will dissolve it.” So I sat over the bidet for nearly an hour and bathed my poor cunny with warm water and it gradually dissolved some of the alum, and I was none the worse for my fright.
Well, to resume, Uncle and I came at last to his house which was a bookseller's shop with rooms for residence over the shop and a milliner's shop on one side, and a dressmaker's shop on the other, while opposite was an inn called “The Royal Standard,” and next door to that was a board-school for young ladies.
I mention these details because Uncle called my attention to them, saying they were all his best customers.
On arriving at Uncle's house he took me upstairs and introduced me to the housekeeper, who was going to leave to get married the following week, and I was to take her place in Uncle's household.
She took me to a comfortable bedroom, and kissing me, praised my good looks and enquired if I would like a bath after my long journey.
I replied it was the one thing I was longing for. So she opened a door leading from my bedroom and showed me the bath, saying she would be back in half-an-hour to help me dress and get ready for dinner.
Oh, May, how I enjoyed that cold bath! I splashed and dashed the water all over my naked body and took the opportunity of removing the alum Charley had considerately slipped into my cunny in the coach, for, said he, who knows how soon you may have to pass for a virgin?
I had just finished my washing and stepped out of the bath and was seated on a stool drying myself when the door opened and in came the housekeeper, Jemima, and rushing up to me, exclaimed: “Oh, Miss Susan, please stand before this pier-glass for a moment!”
I did so and found it was as tall as myself and reflected my figure as large as life.
Jemima now began to rub me with a towel, all the time praising my skin, my back, my belly, and my thighs, in such a loud voice that I began to fancy she intended someone in the next room to hear. However, I kept my thoughts to myself and only said: “Make haste, Jemima, and help me dress for I want my supper so badly.”
At last she was obliged to leave off her rubbings and she brought me a clean smock and petticoat which she helped to put on. Then I sat on a low stool and drew on clean white stockings; but Jemima would help put on a new pair of garters, which fastened with a silver clasp. I was so pleased with them that I jumped up and stood before the mirror to admire my garters, and of course had to raise my smock rather high to do so.
“Those garters are a present from your uncle,” said Jemima, “you will not forget to thank him presently.”
“Of course I shall thank him,” I said.
Jemima now put on me a very low-necked blue frock.
“And this also is your uncle's present,” said she.
“Oh, what a dear, kind uncle he is! How much I love him already,” I replied.
“Well,” said Jemima, “now go down to supper and tell him so.”
On entering the room downstairs I found supper on the table and Uncle in his dressing-gown and slippers sitting by a bright fire.
(To be continued.)
Gent—Have you tried the new medicated paper for the water-closet?
Lady—It is so dreadfully expensive.
Gent—No, really I know a place where you can buy six packets for ten-and-sixpence.
Lady—It is so deliciously soft, I cannot think how I could have put up with old newspapers.
Gent—May I send you half a dozen?
Lady—Thanks very much.
Gent—What a very disagreeable smell, I think our vis-àvis must have farted.
Lady—No, it's that conceited thing on your left. I saw her cough behind her hand and pull her dress out.
Gent—You must forgive me but, do you know, I thought at first it was you.
Lady—Oh, you naughty satirical man.
Gent—What a troublesome complaint is piles!
Lady—Yes, poor mama and my sisters have them shockingly.
Gent—And you, come now, confess.
Lady—No, indeed, and indeed ...
Gent—Not a little bit?
Lady—No, not a bit.
Gent—Do you find that your bowels act with regularity?
Lady—Quite so, thank you for your kind enquiries, I go punctually every ten days or so.
Gent—Now that is very naughty of you, you ought to go every morning.
Lady—But the seat is so dreadfully cold to sit down on in this nasty weather.
Gent—Might I warm it for you?
Lady—What would mama say?
(Here you see, the conversation is gliding into a flirtation and should be diverted unless you have honourable intentions. If you have, it may continue as follows:)
Gent—Your mama would say we were two cozy dicky birds to bolt ourselves into the water-closet.
Lady—But you would go away after you had warmed the seat, would you not, because I might make a little noise?
Gent—If it played a pretty tune I would love it.
Lady—And would you rumple the paper for me?
Gent—All day long.
Lady—For little me only and for no one else?
Gent—For no one but you would I rumple a particle of paper. Is it not extraordinary that there are no public urinals for ladies?
Lady—You men would be always standing about the doors.
Gent—But you ought to have them built like ours, you know, with the trough projecting a little further.
Lady—Butter-boat fashion, how very nice.
Tune—“Vicar of Bray.”
Near Jermyn Street a bawd did trade
In credit, style and splendour,
Well known to every high-bred blade,
And those of doubtful gender.
How nature once, in marring mood,
Her body formed, I'll tell ye,
Upon her back a swelling stood,
To mock her barren belly.
CHORUS:
For some succeed and others fail
That into commerce enter.
So few are chaste and many frail
In this great trading center.
In coney skins her commerce lay,
A charming stock she'd laid in;
She ne'er to smugglers fell a prey,
Her practice was fair trading.
These skins when dressed were red and white,
The fur of each fair creature,
Of different hues, as day and night,
Kept warm man's naked nature.
CHORUS: For some succeed, etc.
The trading stock of this old bawd
A vital stab sustain'd, sir,
The news like wild-fire flew abroad,
Each customer complain'd, sir.
Some coney skins lay with a lot
By caution uninspected;
So quarantine, alas, forgot,
Foul plague the whole infected.
CHORUS: For some succeed, etc.
Now old and young her shop forsook,
Insolvent was her plight, sir,
When Habeas Corpus catch-pole took
Her body off by night, sir,
From Banco regis civil law,
To liquidate her debt, sir,
Between the sheets this old bawd saw
Of London's fam'd Gazette, sir.
CHORUS: For some succeed, etc.
To give each creditor his due,
Three men, the Lord's anointed,
Jack Wilkes, Lord Sandwich and Old Q
Were assignees appointed;
But luckless bawd! the after day
Her stock on fire they found, sir;
So 'twas agreed she could not pay
A condom in the pound, sir.
CHORUS: For some succeed, etc.
The skin (her own) this bawd had left,
Each assignee did handle;
'Twas found of all its fur bereft,
By singeing flame of candle;
Same butter'd buns concealed within,
Old Q's keen eye beset, sir;
So Wilkes defin'd this coney skin
A fund for floating debt, sir.
CHORUS: For some succeed, etc.
By headlong lust her claimants led,
They seized her mortal treasure;
The furious coney skin was spread,
A dividend past measure.
Now all came in, not one stood out;
The bawd was set at large, sir;
Her coney skin (of worth, no doubt),
Did every man discharge, sir.
CHORUS: For some succeed, etc.
FACETIAE.
Cease, foolish painters, Hercules to draw
With wooden club, inspiring man with awe;
A different club that here should adorn,
This god's most powerful weapon is the horn;
No mightier spear than that the champion hurls,
With which one night he fucked three score of girls!
A crowd of grave enquirers made resort,
To where the learned doctors held their court;
And asked them who had been that serpent brute,
Which tempted mother Eve to eat the fruit?
“Ye silly men,” the sages did reply,
“Why do you waste your time and ours, oh, why?
Eve's tempting snake was but a long and thick,
Great, knotty, ruddy, massy, mighty prick!”
Always, except on Sabbath days,
Nell with her busy needle plays;
But not the milliner's needle, Miss!
No, 'tis the sailor's needle, dear!
That shows the mariner how to steer
Right through the ocean of her piss.
The Editor of the Standard is a good-natured fellow, ever ready to attend the wants of his customers, more especially when they happen to be good-looking members of the fair sex.
The following conversation which recently took place in the office of the Standard, fully carries out our assertion:
ENTERS LADY:
Lady—Is the Editor in?
Editor—Yes, Madame, what can I do for you?
Lady—I desire an article inserted and should like you to put it in for me.
Editor—Certainly, with pleasure, if you will first show it to me, so that I may see what it is like.
Lady—I wish a situation as a wet nurse and should like to get a good healthy boy.
(Editor prepares this advertisement and shows it to the Lady, who likes the look of it and wishes it to be put in at once, and asks the price.)
Editor—How often shall you want it put in?
Lady—Well, I cannot tell! That will depend whether it is taken or not; but what will you charge for inserting it three times?
Editor—One dollar for putting it in three times.
Lady—Oh, how dear! You might do it for me for less!
Editor—No, Madame, we have so many ladies to oblige, that is our lowest price for inserting three times such an article as you ask for.
Lady—Well, suppose you do not get me a baby in three times, how much will you charge me for three times more?
Editor—Why Madame, if you can manage to keep the affair standing after that, for one dollar more I will put it in as often as you like, till I get you a child; that is, of course, provided the ink continues to flow.
by CHARLES.
Honour amongst maid-servants, you would have thought so, had you but seen how Sophy and Lucy, after receiving the Duke's retaining fee, worked for his pleasure in hopes of getting a refresher when he retired.
Nor were their labours in vain. Yet, I verily believe he had stimulated himself by a dose of tincture of cantharides, phosphodyne, or something of that sort, for he was a perfect goat.
Lucy in her nightdress was sitting on the edge of the bed with a finger between her thighs, evidently trying to impress upon his Grace the necessity of another bit of flimsy for her bedfellow; and from what I could only partially hear, he made that depend on how they pleased him first.
Although I could not hear all that was said, what I saw will enable me to supply the dialogue.
Lucy now proceeded to business by suddenly throwing the bedclothes off Sophy, whose chemise she turned up, and began to smack her lily-white bum before she could very well help herself.
I could see the red marks flush on her tender skin at every slap. This seemed greatly to please the Duke, who did his best to prevent the helpless girl from getting up.
Sophy struggled desperately, looking both flushed and cross but afraid to call out for fear of making too much noise.
His Grace had gone on his expedition in slippers and dressing-gown. So when this slapping was over; he slipped off his only coverings, and dropping the slippers, had nothing but his stockings on as he jumped on the bed between the two girls, his great affair as stiff and ready as possible.
Sophy was the first to take possession of that red-headed prize. She was evidently excited by the rough usage of her posteriors and begged to be comforted at once.
“So you shall, my dear,” said the Duke, “and let your bedfellow straddle over my face, that I can tickle her up with my tongue whilst you ride my cock.”
This was a luscious sight and raised all my own lustful feelings quite to burst point, till, as they all seemed to come together, I actually emitted in my breeches.
After this, each of them sucked his prick and balls by turn, till he mounted Lucy and fucked her like a satyr; Sophy all the while kissing and fondling his testicles and working one finger in his arse-hole to excite him to the utmost.
Even this did not exhaust him, for he gamahuched them by turns, and even did the “La Rose” trick of the French women, by frigging their bottoms with his long tongue, which seemed to drive them almost mad. They got his prick in a glorious state again, and at his request, both knelt down on hands and knees, presenting their bottoms to him. What a surprise I had, for he buried that great bursting prick of his in each arse-hole in turn, and then for a change, in their cunts. He made it last awfully long and I could see plainly by their wriggles of delight and the subdued ejaculations of pleasure which I heard, such as: “How nice—lovely—delicious. How you do make me come. Oh, do spend into me,” etc., as each girl was also busy frigging herself as well.
At last it was over. I saw him taking the second fiver out of his dressing-gown. So, turning from the keyhole, I retraced my steps. Everyone to his taste, I reflected, as I quickly and cautiously descended the stairs on my homeward journey. And yet again, I thought, a man might do worse; and if I had not been so exceptionally fortunate, as I am, I might be very glad of two such buxom lasses as Sophy and Lucy.
These reflections brought me to the door of the Duchess of Dashwood (quite in another part of the house from that of the Duke), and here I essayed to make my knocking with my knuckles.
But whether Juliette was in the arms of Morpheus or of one of our young footmen, or of M. Duroque, or of all three, I cannot tell; but at any rate, I could not obtain admittance, until I heard the bolt withdrawn and the voice of the Earl, my master, telling me to come in.
I entered accordingly and made a full report of what I had seen, much to the pretended surprise of His Lordship, but not at all to the surprise of the Duchess, who declared with considerable emphasis, “It was just like him!”
She, then totally oblivious of my presence, as it seemed and of her own dishabille, which might be charming but was somewhat remarkable for her own peculiar situation, that is to say, a married woman comfortably in bed with another woman's husband—totally forgetful of all these trifles as it seemed—she began to expatiate upon the enormities perpetrated by his Grace of Dashwood.
Of the valuable impulse he had given to the population in his neighbourhood through the medium of the farmers' daughters and pretty cottage-girls; that she never could keep a decent-looking chamber-maid or housemaid in the castle— that in London he was worse, if possible—that she suspected him of improper conduct with Mademoiselle Juliette, the best soubrette she ever had, and was getting on at a great rate, when the Earl politely reminded her that my presence in the room was no longer required and suggested that I should be allowed to retire, which her Grace cordially agreed to, commenting at the same time upon my manners and general appearance in a style which I may be forgiven for not repeating, but which suggested my having found favour in her eyes.
As the reader may believe, I took particularly good care to report to my Lady on the following morning all that I had seen regarding the Duke and Duchess.
As concerned the proceeding of the former there was no embellishment required; a plain unvarnished statement of facts was all that I dared venture on and it was enough in all conscience.
But where her Grace and my Lady's husbands were concerned, I must plead guilty, I fear, to having thrown in a little colouring, suggested a few natural touches in fact, that brought out (so to speak) the prominent features of the picture into high relief.
The trifling episode about Juliette coming by herself into my room and assisting at my toilet, I thought it judicious to say nothing about whatever.
My report produced, as might be expected, a variety of conflicting emotions in the mind of Lady Pomeroy.
But while she was reflecting, I suppose as to what opinion to express, Justine, like a favoured girl, took the liberty to open the ball with: “Pray, Master Ernest, when you were bound on such an errand why did you not call at my room and take me with you? Two witnesses would have been better than one, you know.”
I replied with as much gravity as I could, though I could hardly suppress a laugh, that I could not think of introducing such youthful purity to such a scene of licentious sensuality.
At this remark, notwithstanding her vexation, my Lady Pomeroy fairly smiled, and I think that Justine would have boxed my ears if she had dared.
Then she continued her examination by asking if: “That wretch, Juliette, was in the room when I made my report to the Duchess?”
“No, she was not,” I briefly answered.
“And where the dev—(it was nearly out)—was she then?”
“How should I know?” was my reply. “Rocking somebody to sleep, I presume; Lady Georgiana, or M. Duroque, or somebody else.”
“Hush, Justine,” said the Countess now laughing, “you are too forward, and as for your report, Ernest, it is all very disgusting of course, but it is very painstaking and faithful on your part, and it is a comfort to know that I shall not be bothered with the attentions of that brute of a Duke, while he is here; and I'll take care that Justine is not annoyed. As for those two fools of housemaids, I shan't take any notice of their conduct; it would only create a general scandal. Of course I knew that my Lord misbehaved himself grossly with the Duchess but did not know that she abandoned herself so completely when there was a third party, and a handsome young man, in the room. What is your opinion on the subject?”
To this I replied with all becoming indifference that it was a subject on which I hardly felt competent to express an opinion, when in the presence of such a good judge as Her Ladyship, but as far as my own personal feelings were concerned, that her Grace's self-abandonment and forgetfulness of the barriers which modesty might have interposed in the presence of a third party, produced no effect whatever. And that I had lately been taking lessons in an academy of such a very superior grade to that in which it appeared her Grace had taken her degrees, that I consider myself too proficient to require instruction from her in any branch of learning whatever.
Of course this speech was understood precisely as I intended it to be.
Justine laughed and my lovely mistress smiled and coloured and said that I was “a silly, flattering boy,” but seemed very much gratified nevertheless.
I was then dismissed for the present, under directions to attend her Grace when she took Lady Georgiana out for a drive in the afternoon.
I could not help laughing in my sleeve, as I wondered whether they would drive in the direction of her Lady's nurse, who lived in a certain obscure street, or if Miss Courtney would be picked up anywhere and make a third inside passenger.
According to the old adage a third makes bad company, but under these circumstances I do not think that either of the ladies would have objected to the addition.
However, I may as well say at once that nothing of any consequence occurred during the drive. That is, nothing at all ostensible to speak about.
If any conversation took place between the ladies that produced some effect on them shortly afterwards, I cannot tell for a certainty, as of course I could hear nothing of it. But, judging from the hints thrown out by my Lady Pomeroy to Lady Georgiana and her longing to see her haughtiness and scorn of men brought down to a proper level, and connecting these suggestions with a mysterious adventure which befell me the day after the ladies drove out together, I cannot but think that Her Ladyship had some hand herself in bringing about the fulfillment of her own predictions.
On that day as it happened, or most probably it was selected on purpose, the Duke and Duchess and the Earl had gone to the theatre; the Countess desiring to remain at home and Lady Georgiana stayed to keep her company.
It had become quite late in the evening and as my services were not required, I was sitting by myself, when Juliette came in without knocking, silently and mysteriously, as once before, but not with the same results. She merely came, as she said, to tell me that my presence was required.
“Where?”
Never mind, I was required, that was enough, and very flattering to me!
Moreover it was absolutely requisite that my eyes should be bandaged.
Now, I was no fool and I was pretty certain that no harm could come to me in the Earl's mansion at any rate. Moreover, if my eyes were bandaged, my hands were free; besides, I may as well confess to my readers that my last association with my eyes bandaged, or more nearly proposed to be bandaged, was an extremely agreeable one; so after a faint show of objection I submitted, having a pretty strong notion of the object of the grand adventure.
I was then led by my conductress up one passage and down another, evidently for the purpose of puzzling me, and this was successful, for on being ushered into a room, I certainly could not make out where I was. That the room was comfortable and with some luxurious articles of furniture in it, there was no doubt. Also that there were two or three females in it, I was persuaded, for I heard low whisperings, some of an argumentative character. Some as if in fun, and some seemed made in allusion to me in connection with some sport or other.
But I was not such a fool as not to make a shrewd guess as to what sort of sport was likely to take place, when a few merry young women have got a handsome young man in a room among them, with his eyes bandaged, and awaited my fate with becoming fortitude.
I had not long to wait.
I heard someone give a whispered persuasion, some more giggling and then violent hands were laid upon me. I don't mean to say that I was hurt or that the hands laid upon me were particularly rough, but at any other time I would have protested against indignities offered to me; under the circumstances I considered it wiser and pleasanter to hold my tongue and submit to my fate.
So I did. So would my reader if he had such a chance. Fancy yourself blindfolded as I was, and fancy several pairs of delicate soft hands pulling off your clothes, till there was no rag on your body except your stockings and the handkerchief over your eyes. How would you like to hear a soft, gentle voice as pleasant as a rippling brook, say: “Look at that beauty, won't you kiss its ruby head?” Then a soft hand takes John Thomas, gently draws back the foreskin and you first feel the warm breath, then the touch of the velvety tongue of some beauty who, you instinctively know, feels her blood at that moment in a boil of voluptuously longing excitement.
You are drawn softly to a couch, laid gently on your back, and some delightful creature splits herself upon your rod, rides it with spirit, till just the ecstatic moment; her lips are glued to yours in long lusciously amorous kisses, as the soul-dissolving emission mixes the male and female semen in one life-giving stream of pleasure.
She rolls aside and another fair creature takes her place before you have time to lose your stiffness. (Fresh cunt, fresh courage.) On you go for a steeple-chase of love again, again you come together! Each time I tasted the heavenly bliss of coition, if possible, in a more delightful degree, for I had four of them, one after another, before they allowed me to get up.
Then the darlings dressed me, but made such a pretended muddle of getting on my trousers, as they laughingly tried to put my limp prick away comfortably in its place, it got so handled and squeezed that I had the horn as ever. So, seizing the first one I could hold, I bore her to the floor, up with her dress and into her reeking cunny in less time than it takes to write it.
This was a delicious bout, for the others laughed and slapped our bottoms all the while as we wriggled on the carpet. I was so delighted I am sure I made my partner spend three times before I was subdued, and she lay listlessly beneath me in the after lethargy of satisfied desire.
Whilst feeling her beautiful legs my hands came upon a small loose strap which I slyly slipped into my trousers as I put away the limp engine of love, thinking perhaps to make out my antagonist when I examined the colours I had captured on the sly.
I was kissed and sent away in charge of Juliette and soon found myself in my own room again.
It was a most mysterious story, but I had obtained a slight clue, a very slight one certainly, when my conductress advised me to put myself in order as I should probably be required to wait upon my mistress and Lady Georgiana at the supper-table.
But no sooner was her back turned than I inspected the little waif or stray I had secured in my pocket and found, as I expected, that it was neither more nor less than a lady's garter, and one of a colour and make that I had never seen before.
Anyhow, the next morning Mlle. Juliette was making anxious enquiries about one of her Lady's elastics which I at once offered to restore on condition of being allowed to replace it. And if anyone considers this affords a clue to my mysterious adventure they are welcome to it. I have no opinion to offer except that it is time to wind up my story.
The Earl of Pomeroy and the Duchess of Dashwood never visited the theatre on the eventful evening I have just described; the Duke, who could not obtain a divorce, filled his house with such bad company that his daughter, the Lady Georgiana, has obtained permission to live under the protection of her particular friend, the Countess of Pomeroy.
Justine and I, being so comfortably fixed and quite young as yet, think it would be folly to marry at present and so we retain our confidential stations.
THE END.
Mr. Reddie used to call me Petro, as a short familiar name; but whilst he lodged with me at my house, Brecknock Crescent, Camden Town (N.B.—This is where I first was introduced to Mr. Reddie), I was continually afraid he would bring himself or both of us into serious trouble.
Once, I remember, we went to Margate for a few weeks at the seaside, and the landlady of the house where we stopped had a very good-looking son, a youth not over fifteen, if quite so old. Mr. Reddie was in love at once, but how to win the boy over was the difficulty.
“Petro,” he would say, “I must fuck that boy or go out of my mind from frigging myself as I lie in bed and think of him. How can we manage it, old boy?”
I recommended patience, and an opportunity would be sure to turn up.
“Treat him well, and let's take him out for a bathe or a walk with us whenever he will go,” I said.
My advice was taken. Young Frank was soon quite at home in our rooms and evidently pleased at being made such a favourite by the lodgers, who were always treating him to cakes, wine or fruit.
We took several promenades with him as companion, and in a few days he also regularly accompanied us and shared the same machine with us when we bathed.
How we joked him about his little doodle, asked him if it would stand stiff and about boys playing with each other's cocks at school. This was of course done very carefully and gradually, and we began to think him discreet enough as he had often assured us that he told no tales out of school, when we gave him shillings or half-crowns.
His mother was a buxom woman of about eight and thirty, who had been left a widow for some years, her husband having been in the Civil Service, but died after they had been married about ten years.
Now Mrs. Glover was decidedly more to my taste than the boy. So I made assiduous courtship of her on my own account, for Mr. Reddie couldn't even bear for a woman to touch him.
Her bedroom was next to mine, and I had a peephole so that I could watch all her movements as she dressed or undressed, and had often noticed how she sometimes looked at her cunt in the glass and seemed to sigh as if thinking of past joys. One night in particular, before sitting on the chamber-pot as usual before getting into bed, she seated herself on the bedside drawing up her night-chemise to her navel, whilst she at first gently frigged her clitoris with a couple of fingers. I could see the little piece of flesh stand out quite excitedly. Her fingers worked nervously for a moment or two, as her face began to flush, and her bosom to heave with emotion, when all of a sudden, she fell backwards on the bed in the act of spending, her legs wide open, allowing me to see clearly a few pearly drops glistening on her busy fingers.
Now was my chance. I had observed she never locked her door. My prick was rampant for such a glorious fuck, as I believed she would be, and having only my shirt and stockings on, I noiselessly opened my door as well as her own so quietly as to be quite unperceived by my luscious victim, as she lay gasping on the bed, from the effects of her copious emission. I had previously well oiled the locks of both doors on the sly.
Stooping down, so that she would not see my approach and having neither boots nor slippers on my feet, I soon was kneeling between her open legs and gazing my fill at the delicious throbbing cunt of my landlady. She still lay with two fingers right in, but not frigging. The mark was fair and open, so, slowly rising, I brought the nose of my impatient prick within an inch of the spot. It was then very gently touched. There was a kind of spasmodic twitch of sympathy, but she did not otherwise seem to notice it, and I could see her eyes were closed.
Mr. Peaslin went on gently to insinuate himself and fortunately for my game-cock, the spending had oiled her so that I gained an inch or two, and then with a sudden plunge as I clasped her round the hips, I was three-quarters entered in a moment.
What a start she gave, but seemed to have the presence of mind not to scream.
“Oh, heavens, sir, what are you about? I'm ruined! Leave me, you wicked man, this instant!” she exclaimed, as I could see the tears start to her eyes, and the deep blush of shame overspread her face.
“Not yet, my darling Mrs. Glover! I had a peephole and the sight of you fingering yourself drove me quite mad with desire. Now, won't you forgive me? I couldn't help myself,” I replied, as I seized the opportunity to push on to victory, and felt myself buried to the hilt in her throbbing sheath.
I lay on her kissing and imploring for forgiveness, making my prick throb inside of her as I did so, and at last she faintly smiled my pardon. I need not tell you more, how we used to sleep together every night, and that our liaison quite blinded her to our intentions regarding Master Frank.
We soon proceeded to all sorts of indecencies with the youth. Mr. Reddie and myself would compare the immense difference in the size of our pricks before him in the bathing-machine (Reddie's was a very small one, not five inches). We asked him to feel and judge for himself. The very touch of his delicate soft youthful hand made the seed shoot from me, which you may be sure immensely surprise the lad, and made him blush scarlet, so that we were afraid of having gone too far.
Another morning Mr. Reddie gamahuched him till he spent in his mouth and seemed to enjoy the sucking, after which we handled each other's pricks and he amused himself with them, until we emitted our juice, mine spurting all over his belly as he stood in front of me. Then we went into the sea to refresh ourselves and afterwards made him a present of half a sovereign, which his innocent mother, I believe, thought was only a delicate way of pleasing herself.
A day or two after this, Mr. Reddie pretended to be obliged to return to town for two or three days and we easily persuaded Mrs. Glover to allow Frank to go with us, and I promised to show him all the sights, while Mr. Reddie was attending to his business; this she also took as another kindness to herself and we started on our journey.
We took apartments in town at the house of a Mrs. Anderson (an old friend of Mr. Reddie's where he was always safe to do as he pleased). They consisted of a sitting-room and bedroom adjoining, the latter with two beds in it so that Frank had to sleep with either one of us.
Then we showed him a fine collection of coloured plates of boys and girls, boys with boys or men, etc., some of the latter plainly showing they had got their cocks in their partners' bottoms.
“You'll let him do it to you, Petro, won't you?” appealed Mr. Reddie as he whispered in ecstasy: “I shall soon be handed now!”
There was no object on my part; his little cock couldn't hurt me. Besides, I had a great fancy for it at the moment, and told him he must put his arms around my waist and handle my cock and make it come.
Frank was quite pleased to try. His youthful affair was quite stiff and hard at the idea of having a man.
We threw off everything and I knelt down on all fours on the hearth-rug. Then, Mr. Reddie guided Frank's prick to my arse-hole and he soon wriggled it in whilst his hand clasped and frigged my big cock in front. It was so extraordinarily exciting to my ideas that I spent at once, and clasped one of my hands round each of his wrists to make him frig quicker; also to secure him in case he flinched from Reddie's assault.
My friend had already got a finger well greased with cold cream up Frank's fundament which the boy seemed to enjoy rather than not, as I might judge by the increasing activity of his little prick in my arse.
“Now, Frank,” said Mr. Reddie, “you will let me try to have you, won't you, you dear boy? It won't hurt.”
I had previously taken a looking-glass from the dressing-table and placed it on the floor, so I could see every motion of both of my companions. With one hand Reddie was caressing the cock and balls of the boy, as he fucked my bottom, whilst his right hand presents his prick to the tight little pink arse-hole which kept bobbing towards him.
Frank winced a little at the attack; but Reddie being small, as I have said, had no difficulty in effectually getting into him. How his face flushed and his eyes sparkled with delight as he almost screamed out: “I'm in, oh, delicious! I'm landed at last, Petro, my dear fellow! I'm coming—I can't stop!”
This made me come again and I also felt Frank spend at the same moment. We kept our places and had another splendid bottom-fuck before separating.
My prick was too big to get into either of my companions; but I loved to have the boy fuck me, and frig me whilst Reddie had him.
The very thought of that adventure makes my old pego stand at any moment.
The Rev. Kettle of Battersea met on the Rhine-boat a lady who had not seen him for years. “How do you do, Mr. Kettle, I heard you were married. Any family?”
“Yes, Madame, six.”
“Six, dear me! how many are boys and how many girls?”
“The number is divided, Madame, there are six little Kettles, three with spouts, three without.”
I'm a modest young man, I'd have you all know,
And I can't bear to hear or to see anything low;
From a child all my friends could not fail to detect,
That my notions were moral and strictly correct.
Now some of you, doubtless, may think me an ass,
And declare my confession is naught for a farce;
Still, to what I have said I'll religiously stick,
And, to use a low phrase, stand my ground like a brick.
Stop, a few minutes you are able to spare,
A bit of my mind I intend to lay bare;
Tho' with my way of thinking you'll p'raps not agree,
I'll tell you a few things I don't like to see.
I don't like to see vulgar girls in the town
Pull their clothes up, and stand to be goosed for a crown;
Nor a man with light trousers, of decency shorn,
Stop and talk to young ladies while having the horn.
I don't like to see women wear dirty smocks,
Nor a boy of fifteen laid up with the pox;
And I don't like to see, it's a fact by my life—
A married man grinding another man's wife.
Nor I don't like to see—you'll not doubt it, I beg,
A large linseed poultice slip down a man's leg;
Nor a gray-headed sinner that's fond of a find,
When a girl under twelve he is able to grind.
In church, too, believe me, I don't like to see
A chap grope a girl while she sits on his knee;
Nor a lady whose visage is all over scabs,
Nor a young married lady troubled with crabs.
Nor I don't like to see, through it's really a lark,
A clergyman poking a girl in the park;
Nor a young lady, wishing to be thought discreet,
Looking in print-shops in Holywell Street,
I don't like to see, coming out of Cremorne,
A girl with her muslin much crumpled and torn;
Arm in arm with a fellow who's had the mishap,
To forget, when he shagged her, to button his flap.
Nor I don't like to see, though some think it a treat,
A young woman scratching her thing in the street;
And a boarding-school miss, with no sense in her pate,
Sit and chalk a man's tool on the back of her slate.
I don't like to see, in the bright face of the day,
A man stand and piss in the public highway;
Nor a Newfoundland dog, without any disguise,
Tied fast to a bitch not a quarter his size.
Nor I don't like to see, little sisters and brothers
Get playing at what they call fathers and mothers;
And I don't like to see, though at me you might scoff,
An old woman trying to toss herself off.
I don't like to see—it's a fact that I utter—
That nasty word—written up on a shutter:
And I don't like to see a man, drunk as an Earl,
Getting into a lamp-post thinking it's a girl.
I don't like to see, 'cause my feelings it shocks,
Two girls busy playing with each other's c—;
Nor I don't like to see, though it may be a whim,
A hole like a pit-mouth in place of a q—.
But I fear I'm encroaching too much on your time,
So I'll put an end to my quizzical rhyme;
Though with my way of taste you'll perhaps not agree,
I've told you the things I don't like to see.
Put butter in my Donald's brose,
For weel does Donald fa that;
I love my Donald's tartan hose,
His naked prick, and a' that.
For a' that and a' that,
And twice as mickle as a' that:
The lassie get a skelpit gnat,
But wan the day for a' that.
For Donald swore a solemn oath,
By his first hairy gravat,
That he would fight the battle there,
And fuck the lass and a' that.
CHORUS: For a' that and a' that, etc.
His hairy cock, both side and wide,
Hung like a beggar's wallet;
His prick stood like a rolling-pin,
She nicker'd when she saw that.
CHORUS: For a' that and a' that, etc.
And then she turned up her cunt,
And she bade Donald claw that;
The devil's dizzen Donald drew,
And Donald gave her a' that.
CHORUS: For a' that and a' that, etc.
FACETIAE.
Boss returning from the wars,
Wearied out with wounds and jars,
Tells the tale of blood and strife,
Woe and suffering to his wife;
“Never mind, dear Boss,” she said,
“Your tool is safe—let's go to bed.”
Through my brain strange musings ran,
Deeply pondering: “What is man?”
Still the question I resolve,
Philosophic doubts to solve:
“What is man? I'll tell you true,
He's but a pizzle's dirty spew!”
LINES FOR VALENTINES.
What a fate this poor girl in her lovers befalls,
A prickless old man, and a youth without balls.
Boast not that you have won a rich wife,
Length of tool, not of purse, makes the comfort of life.
Your prick is so useless for love's pleasant game,
Your nose long and hooky and fuck of such muck,
Go, stick then your nose in the cunt of your dame,
And you'll have at one go both a blow and a fuck.
To his bed he went sleepy and drunk, oh, very!
He wanted to piss, felt about for the jerry,
Took up by mischance a big mousetrap instead,
Which snapped off, alas! his old gentleman's head!
ADVERTISEMENTS.
To Be Sold—A Bargain
A MAIDENHEAD
(Slightly Soiled)
The owner being about to get married is willing to sell the above by auction. Further particulars will be announced in the next number of the pearl.
TO THE LOVERS OF GOOD THINGS.
Messrs. Rogers, Rosencrantz and Co., Importers of Foreign Females, and other Curiosities, beg to announce the arrival of a cargo per steamship Orient, direct from Zululand, of young girls of all ages from 8 to 16 years of age, all genuine virgins which will be offered for selection any time next week. Terms—C.O.D.
N.B.—As this class of goods is extremely perishable buyers must remove their purchases at their own risk.
Orders from the country per post carefully attended to; and the girls sent sealed with our trade-mark over their cunnies, without which we do not guarantee them.
RELIGIOUS.
Rev. Newman Hall will lecture on “The Conduct of Lot and His Daughters,” December 20. Illustrated with Dissolving views of the Paternal Pego entering the Daughters' Cunts.
Also January 7: “Solomon in All His Glory,” with 700 wives and 300 concubines; being an attempt to elucidate the mystery of how he gave satisfaction to them all.
Rev. J. Spurgeon will Address the Young Woman's Christian Association on the subject of:
CIRCUMCISION.
With practical examples of the advantage of removing the hood or foreskin from the penis.
Admission to women only. No collection.
or MAY'S ACCOUNT OF HER INTRODUCTION TO THE ART OF LOVE.
From an Unsophisticated Manuscript, Found Amongst the Old Lady's Papers After Her Death, Supposed To Have Been Written About A.D. 1797.
susey's letter concluded.
Uncle got up and came to meet me, saying: “Welcome, Susey, I am glad you have come! How blooming you look! You must want your supper after such a long ride.”
I threw my arms around his neck and kissing him, said: “Thank you, dear Uncle, for all your great kindness and especially for this lovely silk dress and the pretty garters you gave me.”
“Does the dress fit you, my dear?” he asked, placing his hands on my bosom and squeezing it gently.
“Yes, Uncle dear,” I said.
We then had supper, and Uncle insisted on my drinking four glasses of the champagne, which I found warmed up my blood as doubtless Uncle intended it should do.
After supper he said: “Susey, if you love me, show me your garters.”
“Oh, Uncle!” I replied blushingly, “would that be decent and proper?”
“You are an ungrateful girl to refuse the first trifling request I make,” he said.
“Not ungrateful, Uncle,” I replied; “see here, please examine my pretty garters,” and I stretched out both my legs as I continued sitting in my chair.
Uncle was on his knees between my legs in a moment, and put his hands first on one garter and then on the other, unclasping them and kissing my thighs just above the stockings.
Then he said: “Dear Susey, do you know that your mother was my favourite sister? And that as children we used to sleep together, and were fond of taking off each other's nightdress and of examining the difference in our naked bodies, and making water in the same pot. And now, dear Susey, I want to tell you that your dear mother on her death-bed confided you to my care, and I have paid for your education and maintenance all your life; and now I hope you will love me and be a comfort to me in my declining years.”
“Yes, dear Uncle,” I said, “you may depend on my doing everything in my power to give you pleasure.”
“That's a good girl,” said Uncle. “But now you can do something this minute to please me, and that is to show me your cunny!”
I told him he could look at it if he wished. So as I was seated in an easy-chair he lifted one of my legs over an arm of the chair and telling me to hold my clothing and chemise out of the way, he exposed my cunny and bottom-hole to his delighted view, and covered both with kisses, sucking and putting his tongue as far as possible into both places. The end of this, of course, was that I gave down my liquor of love over his tongue and he greedily sucked up every drop, declaring it was most delicious.
After this he pulled out his prick and pretended to me that he had fucked my mother, therefore he had a right to do the same to me!
I laughed at this reasoning and feigning ignorance of his meaning asked him to explain everything.
He then laid me on the sofa before the fire and undressed me and also himself, all the time praising the whiteness of my skin, and then, dearest May, he fucked me, and fancied he was the first that had penetrated my virgin slit, as he fondly called it.
Now I must close this letter, hoping you have had as much pleasure as I have in the way of fucking.
By the way, dear May, why don't you get your father to fuck you? Uncle says you would find it delicious, for he knows your father well and says he remembers that his cock is both long and very thick!
I remain, darling May, your loving friend,
SUSEY.
P.S.—Be sure and keep this letter a secret and don't let your father see it for the world! Write soon and tell me everything.
I put this precious letter in my pocket and then remembered that Kate had never told me how she first became acquainted with my father. So I went into the dining-room in search of her and found her and papa sitting on the sofa, with their private parts exposed and each was fondling and touching the other's genitals.
Papa caught sight of me and called out: “Come in May, I want you most particularly.”
I went up to him.
He continued: “I want to see if the hair on your cunny is as fine and silky as this on Kate's cunt. Now be a good obedient girl and I will give you a silk dress and you shall choose the colour yourself.”
How this promise dazzled me! I had had only one silk dress many years before and now the promise of choosing one myself conjured up visions of beauty to my mind's eye.
I replied quickly: “Yes, dear papa, I will do all you require,” and I raised up my clothing as I stood in front of him.
“That is not convenient,” he said. “You had better slip off your clothes except the chemise. Kate will help you.”
So in a few moments my dress and petticoats were on the ground and I was en chemise as I did not wear drawers in those days. In taking my dress over my head my pocket was emptied on the carpet and the letter caught my father's eye.
“Oh, a love letter,” he cried, “fine goings on, Miss May! I must read this letter from your favoured lover!” and he picked it up and commenced to read it.
“It is not a love letter,” I said, “but one from my school-friend Susey who is in Scotland with her uncle.”
“All the same I shall read it aloud,” said my father.
And he did so. And Kate whispered to me: “Don't be afraid of anything, May dearest, I will take your part.”
My father was delighted with Susey's letter and as his breeches were unbuttoned as he sat on the sofa I could see his pego rise to a fine erection as he came to some of her descriptive passages.
At last he came to the end where she advised me to get my father to fuck me, and then he cried out: “Sensible girl this Susey! I wish she were here now. I must invite her and her uncle, my old friend, on a visit this summer, and we will have glorious times! But at present I am concerned to examine closely my daughter's cunny! And if she consents, willingly will I fuck her for I cannot use force to my own daughter, I love her too well for that! Only if she cheerfully consents to let me have my will, she shall have five guineas in addition to the silk dress and I will take her to the theatre one night each week!”
I exclaimed: “You dear kind papa! How much I love you! Yes, do whatever you like with me and teach me how to give you pleasure. I hope, dear Kate will not be jealous of poor little me?”
“No, no, dearest May,” said Kate. “I shall never be jealous of you or any other girl your papa wished to fuck; in fact I should like to see him fuck all the girls in the parish, if he wanted to!”
Papa said: “Generous-hearted Kate, you shall never have cause to regret such unselfish conduct. It was the perfect nobleness and disinterestedness of your character which attracted me to you, and the more I see of your mental superiority the more I bless the hour we first became acquainted with each other! Now May, I am ready to fuck you!”
“And I, dear papa, am ready to be fucked,” I replied smiling.
Kate insisted on papa stripping himself perfectly naked and also on removing my smock. She then told papa to lie flat on his back with his prick standing erect; she then made me lie on top of him and she slapped my bottom in time to papa's heaves and thrusts until the crisis came and my womb was deluged with paternal sperm.
I was swimming in delight and could not help calling out: “Thank you a thousand times, dear papa, for this delicious treat!”
“And thank you, my darling child, for giving me such exquisite pleasure,” replied papa.
In the next bout our positions were altered and Kate took part in the pastime,—placing herself in such a position that papa could see her cunny while he fucked mine.
We changed positions many times until papa said he must rest from his labours of love, and after partaking of refreshments we all three went to papa's bedroom and fell asleep on his bed, one on each side of him.
In the morning I asked papa to tell me how he became acquainted with Kate, and he replied as follows:
“Last Christmas I went up to London for a holiday and at my club I met with several old friends, who had daughters at school with Madame Stewart at Hampton Court. Sir Thomas Moreton, my neighbour, was one of the party, and while drinking our wine, we talked about our experiences in fucking, and afterwards the conversation turned to the subject of schoolmistresses whipping their scholars' bottoms. I argued that it was not done nowadays but might have been done years ago.
“Sir Thomas laid me a £50 bet that I was wrong and offered to take me to Mme. Stewart's to prove it.
“I accepted his wager and on the following Saturday evening accompanied him to Mme. Stewart's to put his wager to the test.
“We were conducted to a room fitted up with all kinds of punishment apparatus and at one end was a raised dais or platform, under which we seated ourselves, and the door being closed we found the front of the platform was pierced with peepholes in all directions so we had a perfect view of the room, which was brilliantly lighted up with wax candles whilst our recess was dark.
“Presently six girls were brought in by the governess and Madame Stewart ascended the dais over our heads and gave orders for the number of stripes and read the list of offences.
“The fair culprits were placed with their bottoms towards the dais so we had a full view of their struggles and wrigglings as the rod fell on their thighs and bottoms and we had many a peep at the tender cunny which peeped from between their legs.
“My Kate was one that was punished on that occasion and I was especially attracted by the quivering of the lips of her cunny as the rod fell on her lovely bottom. At last I was sure I could see the dear girl give down the pearly drops in pleasurable emission. Such sensitiveness charmed me, and when the punishment was over I made an offer to Madame Stewart to take Kate home with me as a fucking-piece, offering her a bribe.
“Madame demurred at first then said the matter should be left to Kate's decision.
“She was called into the room and I told her how I was smitten with the sight of her naked charms and wanted her to come and live with me a few months every year.
“She first looked at my standing prick and then enquired if it would be any advantage to Madame Stewart and that if it would, she would come with me.
“I told her I offered Madame £50.
“ 'Then,' said Kate, 'I will go with you and trust in your honour as to your treatment of me.'
“Such disinterested conduct is most uncommon in this money-loving age and I love and honour Kate for it.”
I told my father I was sure he would be generous to both Kate and myself.
He told me he was anxious I should be married to a gentleman of his acquaintance, an elderly rich widower.
I enquired how he knew anything about me and what was his name? To which my father replied his name was Mr. Sinclair and it was his cock I had become acquainted with, that he was over eighty years old, so I should be a rich widow probably in a few years. That the old gent was able to do a fair amount of fucking, but if I wanted more I could easily get a young man for a pound a week to do it for me.
I consented to my father's propositions and we invited Mr. T (the resident tutor at the school mentioned at the beginning of my tale), to come to the wedding. We also invited Susey and her uncle.
They all came and I was married one fine May morning out of compliment to my name. After the ceremony the clergyman asked permission to have the first kiss on my cunny, which I granted him in the vestry.
We went for our wedding tour to the Isle of Wight for a month during which time my husband was satisfied he had got me with a child. He then gave me permission to have as much outside fucking as I wanted.
I told him I should wait until we got home as I was longing for a taste of Mr. T's noble tool and also for my dear father's prick.
My husband was pleased with my determination and engaged Mr. T as librarian, and in that capacity he remained until the lamented decease of Mr. Sinclair at the age of ninety, who left me with one daughter nine years old, and all his money.
As soon after his death as was decent I married Mr. S— whom I found to be one of the best husbands.
Susey often pays us a visit and brings young girls with her to please Mr. T who has a penchant for the unfledged cunny, and often has a game of blindman's buff with the naked children, and a romp with my little Agnes when she is naked. The little darling is now twelve years old and very proud of being able to make “her new papa's cocky get big,” as she says, by rubbing her little cunny against its head.
Mr. T anticipates the pleasure of taking her maidenhead when she is fourteen. I tell him that it is too early and that he ought to wait until she is fifteen, but he is so impatient that I fear he will have his own way.
So good reader, both lady and gentleman, farewell!
And may you never want a fuck,
Nor yet a prick or cunt to suck.
FINIS.
C ome love and dwell with me
U nder the greenwood tree,
N o one can happy be,
T han I shall be if bless'd with thee!
P laced near your mossy grot,
R ises a rustic cot.
I would bear thee to that spot,
C ool when the sun is hot;
K ind fair one, linger not!
F lowers bloom their brightest there!
U nknown fragrance fills the air!
C ome, sweet Chloe, grant the prayer,
K neeling I make to thee!
ACROSTIC—THE MARTYR.
F inn as a rock the noble martyr stood,
U nbending as a rod of tempered steel;
C almly he sees the touch ignite the wood,
K nowing the agony he soon must feel.
M ighty the influence which makes the body
Y ield prompt obedience to the power of will!
C onscious of being right, this is the motto,
U pon his banner writ in words of light.
N o other motive can supply the power,
T o cheer the martyr in his dying hour!
D ying because he would maintain the right,
E ver should rule in place of boastful might!
A nd so the martyr's name shall never die,
R ound the whole world the stirring tale shall fly.
P eoples unborn his noble name shall learn,
A nd his example make their bosoms burn;
P atriots shall hail him as a brother true,
A nd write his history for all to view!
THE DISAGREEABLE PASSENGER.
A Yorkshire excursion train the other day contained a rather morose-looking individual, who being offered the newspaper, grumpily replied: “I don't read!”
“Will you take a cigar then?” asked another passenger.
“I don't smoke!”
Presently a third offered him his flask.
“I don't drink!
This happened in a carriage with open compartments, so a clergyman who had overheard it all and thinking that perhaps a little intellectual conversation would be more to his taste, leaned over the back of the seat and said: “Would you like to step over here with us, there is only myself, wife and daughter?”
“I don't fuck!” was all he got for his kind intention. And we need not say that he was both disgusted and chagrined as the laughter of the others pealed through the carriage.
A QUESTION OF LUNACY.
A lady the other day, wishing to get an imbecile son into an asylum, consulted a doctor about a certificate and he naturally enquired as to the actions of the alleged lunatic.
Lady—I must tell you that lately at Christmas he would get up at night and eat all the mince-pie in the pantry.
Doctor—That is only gluttony.
Lady—There's something awfully shocking to tell: The other day he threw the servant down the stairs and fucked her!
Doctor—Mere depravity, that's, all. Now allow me to explain the difference to you, Madame! If you had told me that your son had eaten the servant and fucked the mince-pies there could have been no doubt about the necessity of confining him in an asylum.
An Extract from the Pleasures of Cruelty.
This brings to my mind, says Lucidora, a tale I have heard of the late Sultan, who, being middle aged and worn out with the amorous exertions in the well-filled seraglio, determines to seek some fresh excitement; everything seems so insipid and blasé to him.
At first he is at a loss how to amuse himself, but one day, discussing with his chief eunuch the arrangements and routine of the harem, a circumstance which never gave him a thought before suddenly gives him an idea that he may get both satisfaction and excitement from cunt, viz., that when he came to the throne (he was a nephew of the previous Commander of the Faithful), he left the Sultana Valide unmolested, who in the lifetime of his predecessor had intrigued in every possible manner to set aside his succession in favour of her own son contrary to the usual Osmanif custom. Since which time the baffled Sultana, a beautiful lady of about thirty, had peevishly shown her hatred of him by keeping the strictest seclusion, only walking by herself quite unattended in the most secluded part of the extensive gardens of the seraglio,
The Sultan had heard of the once famous beauty of this proud lady and was assured by the Chief of Eunuchs that she was still surpassingly lovely and was suspected of indulging in every variety of voluptuousness with the ladies of her suite in private.
SULTAN.—“At what hour does she generally take her walk in the garden?”
CHIEF OF EUNUCHS.—“About seven in the morning, your Majesty; she is an early riser and first goes to the Mosque then walks in the garden for an hour or more or sits under the trees reading some exciting French work, but retires as soon as the eunuch gardeners disturb her.”
SULTAN.—“Well, good; keep the gardeners from that part of the garden tomorrow. I will have a private interview with her Majesty.”
CHIEF OF EUNUCHS.—“Her Majesty would feel insulted to be addressed in the garden even by the Sultan. Consider, Sire, her late position, and what deference would she expect even from your Majesty yourself.”
SULTAN.—“By the beard of the prophet! I'll bring her to her senses without even telling her who I am. She has never seen me. It will afford infinite satisfaction to witness her haughty, proud indignation, at a stranger's intrusion on her privacy. But leave me to consider her dignity, all I want is that you keep out all intruders, and be sure to awaken me early enough in the morning.”
Next day, at an early hour, the Sultan is ready for his anticipated excitement. It is a lovely morning in early spring; and he thoroughly enjoys the invigorating, soft sea-breeze which rustles the leaves of the trees over his head.
Seating himself on the grass behind an Oleander thicket, close to a pretty little lake, so as to command a long vista of one of the principal walks, he gives himself up to a reverie of his chibouque. “Ah, to think I never thought of her before, the beautiful haughty. Oh, Allah, what a fine revenge for all she did against me. What a delicious time of day. How curious that although I can scarcely get my poor cock to rise at the prettiest of my odalisques, one always awakes in the morning with a standing pego. What is the cause of it? Perhaps it indicates the proper time of day for voluptuous indulgence. Ah, yes! That must be so for I always notice how I am, especially if I have indulged in too much Frankish brandy overnight. That's our only stimulant. Ah, Allah! why did the prophet forbid us the glorious wine? Spirits were not known then or he would have put a veto on that also. Women, women, nothing but women for good believers! What a man that prophet must have been and after all nothing else for us in heaven! Shall we not be exhausted or cloyed with pleasure there? Ha! Ha! Ha! Of course I'm a true Musselman, but it takes a big faith to believe all that, or about Isa either. Religion is a manufactured article in all countries, a monopoly not to be interfered with lightly; but no one will know the mystery until after death. How true the saying of Solomon: 'That the only real good is to enjoy your life and thank God for it.' There is but one God, whoever is his prophet; we were never intended to make ourselves miserable.
“Ah! Xerxes must have been like myself when he offered such rewards for a new pleasure. He had found himself all used up. 'Vanity of Vanities' said the preacher who had three hundred princesses for wives and seven hundred concubines.
“It was Xerxes who married Esther. Queen Vashti reminds me of the Sultana Valide; how I will humble her and enjoy her humiliated rage as she finds herself helpless in my power.
“Esther, they say, won the king's heart through the voluptuous instruction imparted to her by Mordecai. All the other virgins only just submitted themselves to the Royal Ravisher; but Esther not only did that but when he was spent with his first efforts played with him and sucked his affair, and after all presented her beautiful bottom to his aroused priapus, which so excited him he was obliged to ravish that also, and finally put the crown on her head, not as one of the most beautiful of all virgins' but simply to reward the erotic excitement she had raised by her dalliance. Oh, that I had such a nice girl in my harem; they are all duffers. Ha, there she comes up the walk,” catching a glimpse of the beautiful Sultana coming towards him unveiled and book in hand evidently intent on seating herself under a tree close at hand. Watching all her actions, the Sultan continued to enjoy his smoking and after a little while the lady seated herself on a little mound of grass under a shady tree, proceeding to peruse her book, soon being so absorbed in its contents that she did not perceive his stealthy approach from behind, so that he actually stood at her back looking over her shoulder and reading the same page as she was feasting on. The title of the work was Le Diable au Corps, a most erotic and sensual book, which seemed so to excite her that she sighed and swayed herself about whilst one hand was quite lost under her clothes, and seemed to the Sultan to be very curiously engaged somewhere. She reads and she sighs, and he sighs, but unnoticed by the beautiful student.
What charms he can see all down her neck and voluptuously rounded bosom, having just under his eyes the dazzling white skin, and blue-black hair streaming down in three long plaits along her back, the lovely delicate hands, and plump rounded arms.
How curious it is that anything improper or forbidden has such an exciting effect on all mankind. Here the Sultan, who could feast unmoved by the delicious charms of hundreds of lovely girls in his harem, is strongly excited by the charms of one so unwittingly exposed to view.
His manly weapon rises in all its forgotten vigour. The Sultana has thrown back the light shawl which covered her shoulders, so as to leave her neck quite exposed. He frigs himself over his unsuspecting victim when she suddenly drops backwards at full length, her eyes closed, her sensuous smile of enjoyment on the lips, rather apart, with one knee bent upwards and the hitherto unseen hand evidently working something under her clothes. As she sighs and almost sobs with pleasure, her beautiful legs are quite exposed with nothing on them, but delicate slippers on the feet. Drawers are quite wanting in the royal apparel.
Sultans are mortal, and however he might have wished to prolong and enjoy the sight, it was impossible for him to restrain his own emotions. The ecstatic moment had arrived, he directs his swollen excited member downwards and showers a good stream of sperm all over her face, neck, and bosom, laughing: “Ha! Ha! Ha! by the prophet you are a wanton woman. What the devil have you got under your clothes?”
Thunderstruck, crimsoning with shame, the Sultana's eyes start open. Then she hides her face in her shawl, shrieking: “Ah! Ah! Help! A man! A man!”
The Sultan gave her a vigorous kick: “You may scream but who's to help you? Do you want to expose your own shame, or do you really want a man?”
She springs to her feet and attempts to fly but he dexterously catches the tail of her dress and in the endeavours to effect her escape pulls her clothes over her head so that she is quite uncovered, her arms helpless, whilst every part of her beautiful body from the waist downwards is fully exposed.
What a sight meets his gaze! A splendid swelling mount all covered with long, black, curly hair, extending far over her beautiful belly, and some inches down on the inside of her thighs, most extraordinary large rounded buttocks, quite out of proportion to her size, but so exciting to behold and replete with voluptuous pleasure.
SULTANA, shrieking.—“Ah! Ah! How shameful! Oh! Oh! Let me go, or your life will pay the forfeit!”
SULTAN.—“Ha, ha! Will you, indeed, spare my life, lady?” whilst still keeping her head and hands in a helpless condition. He inflicts a furious kick on her bottom, which he repeats again and again, as she begs and cries for mercy, promising everything she can think of to be released; her bottom bruised all over and slightly bleeding in places.
SULTANA.—“Oh! Oh! Allah! Have mercy. Deliver me from this demon!”
SULTAN.—“Ha, ha! Cry away to Allah. You ought to be one of the Peris in the Prophet's Paradise. A wanton woman like you would be properly employed there. What's that instrument I see lying in the grass dropped from you just now? Tell me this instant what it is or I will murder you.”
SULTANA.—“Oh, oh, mercy! It's only a French godemiche!”
SULTAN.—“A godemiche? What's that for? Speak up” (giving another furious kick).
SULTANA.—“Oh! Oh! We ladies use it to excite ourselves. Oh, if you only knew who I am!”
SULTAN.—“Indeed Madame. Tell me, pray, perhaps I may show you some respect.”
SULTANA, hopefully.—“You little think, for I'm the Sultana Valide, it will be fearful for you if anyone should come and catch you.”
SULTAN.—“Ha! Ha! You wish me to believe that, you wanton! Now tell me true, are you not one of the lower women of the palace?” (Kicking again, this time her belly, almost making her faint with the shock.)
SULTANA, shrieking.—“Oh! Oh! Mercy! I am indeed the Sultana. Oh! Mercy! Oh!” (as kicks follow in quick succession).
SULTAN.—“So you are really the Sultana and you wish me to believe that, do you?” (Taking advantage of her ceasing to struggle to tie her to a tree with her clothes still over her head, helpless as before.) “Now, you lying woman, I'll teach you to pass yourself off as the Sultana. Here” (placing the godemiche in her cunny) “I'll give you pleasure; tell me how you feel, if I do it nicely or not, or I'll murder you on the spot. Wait a little. I've got a better idea; you must do it yourself; feel my knife,” said he again, pricking her bottom and making the blood to run freely. “Resist and I'll kill you; turn around!”
So he alters the fastening till she is extended full length on her back, still secured to the little tree. Then with his knife he cuts a hole through her clothes. She can just put in one hand and use the godemiche.
“That will do; work away at once! I'm going to make a nice little switch from this prickly shrub to keep you up to your work.”
The poor Sultana, nearly dead with fright, does her best to obey. His rod of prickly shrubs cuts and scratches her hips and thighs, and sometimes the mount, drawing drops of blood at every stroke. She frantically works her instrument, presenting to his view, as he kneels close in front of her, a most luscious and voluptuous sight, for she is one of those rare women who are splendidly furnished with an enlarged clitoris and prominent pouting lips to her cunny, which are now plainly seen as they draw out and recede, clinging lasciviously to the working godemiche. Dropping the switch he amuses himself by pinching and nipping her clitoris and all around the gaping luscious mouth of her vermilion gap.
His touch seems to electrify her. She screams with delight: “Oh, oh, oh! You make me come! How hot I am! Good heavens! Allah! Allah!” and she spends with such profusion that it shoots all over his fingers as the godemiche is still worked by her nervous hands.
SULTAN.—“Now, withdraw that nasty thing and let me inspect your wanton crack; you're never a modest woman to have behaved as you have. Give me that godemiche, I'll put it in my pocket.”
SULTANA.—“Oh, pity me! Let me go now. Do have mercy!”
SULTAN.—“You bitch of a dog, who are you? Now confess or you shall be more and more punished.”
SULTANA.—“Oh! Oh! Mercy! I am indeed the Valide! If this was found out nothing would save me, for the Sultan is my enemy!”
SULTAN, laughing ironically.—“Ha! Ha! Ha! You think he would have you thrown into the Bosphorus in a sack, do you not? How many poor girls have you served so in your times?”
SULTANA.—“Oh, none! I was never cruel or jealous like some of the favourites.”
SULTAN.—“Such lies convince me you are not what you pretend to be; now speak the truth will you? I might as well tell you I am the Padishah himself! Did he never have you? They say he's been a regular goat in the harem.”
SULTANA.—“You won't believe me; oh, mercy! mercy! I've been a chaste woman all my life.”
SULTAN, beginning to flog her again with the prickly twigs. —“Chaste, chaste, chaste—I should think so after what I have seen—“ (giving scratching switches at every word).
The poor woman kicks about and writhes in agony. Her flesh is soon covered with blood which only seems to excite his fury the more. She screams wildly for mercy, sobbing for mercy: “Oh! Ah! Allah! Allah! Mercy, holy prophet! I shall die! Oh, finish me!”
His excitement is now at its highest. He throws himself upon her, exclaiming: “Holy Prophet, holy Prophet, that puts me in mind of your bottom-hole!” Throwing her legs over his shoulders, he first plunges his bursting instrument into her cunny, well to lubricate it, then presents the head to her dark brown fundus; he thrusts furiously and soon gains a partial insertion. “Oh! Oh! You'll split me!” she screams; “not there, not there, I never would allow the Sultan to do that. Oh, oh! Never. What shame! What filthiness!” she sighs as he pushes on and on, to complete possession, and he rests a little after his exertions, but the nervous nippings and contractions of the fundamental canal are too exciting. He spends a stream of his essence into her bowels which she involuntary meets with a slight heave of her bottom. Both of them exhausted, they remain quite still for some few minutes, affording him infinite pleasure, as he causes his dilated instrument to respond to the contracting pulsations of her anus.
SULTAN.—“Are you finished now, you wanton?” withdrawing from her body with a noise something like the drawing of a cork so tightly is the muscle of her bottom contracted around his still inflamed affair. “Ah, ha! how tightly you hold! Haven't you had enough? Ha! Ha! I'll take a love token from you, just to remember your pussey when I look at it.” So saying, he cut off a good lock of the fine, long, black curly hair of her cunny. “I must have enough to make a bracelet for my wife, she will little think where it came from,” he said, hacking away again and again, causing excruciating pain.
“Oh! Ah! Ah! help! Oh, do have mercy! My God!” she sobs. “I shall never be able to take a bath; my assistants will see, it's all gone! Oh, oh, pity me!” she screams, but he cuts on, enjoying her screams and sobbings till the mouth of her crack looks like a chin unshaved for a fortnight.
“You lying woman, I've made a nice Sultana of your pussey for you, and now I'll really finish you off and let you go.”
“Holy Prophet! be merciful! Oh, what more misery can you inflict?” sobbing and screaming.
SULTAN, stuffing a tuft of grass up her fundus.—“That will keep out the cold! Be a pity for a Sultana to catch cold!”
Her legs are wide open showing the red lips and clitoris of her pussey all smeared as they are with blood and sperm; then gathering several tufts of grass with the earth clinging to the roots he proceeds to pelt her cunny with them until one fairly sticks in the entrance. The poor woman is almost unconscious, moaning and sighing, incapable of any efforts to save herself.
With a brutal laugh he shoves his toe into her crack, saying: “Now the cold will keep out of there, tool” Then unloosening her clothes and allowing her to uncover her face he enjoys the spectacle of her tearful, pitiable looks as she sobs and moans in her exhausted state. “Ha, ha! a little water will revive you, you wanton Sultana. You'd better pick yourself up and go back to your apartment,” said he, making water all over her and even into her gaping mouth.
She chokes, gasps and falls back in a lifeless swoon. This last indignity had finished her.
So leaving her to recover as best she could he retires from the scene.
A few days afterwards the Sultan requests an audience of the Sultana Valide, as he hears she has been indisposed, and when ushered into her apartment she receives him unveiled in consequence of his exalted rank as her sovereign.
the sultan, refusing to be seated.—“Madame, hearing you were ill I have brought you a present which I hope may restore your animation a little; especially if you use it vigorously as I have seen you do.” And he places in her hands a casket of Morocco leather, ornamented with gold, which contains her godemiche. “If your Imperial Highness will look, you will see how I have improved it.” (He had put a quantity of her own hair on the india-rubber to make the instrument look more natural.) “I have still enough left to make myself a keepsake,” said he, inclining his head as he withdrew from her apartment. “Au revoir, I have repaid you for all your former kindnesses to me.”
You may imagine the angry, furious looks of indignant hate which she cast at him as he looked steadily at her, enjoying her shame and confusion whilst giving his present.
An Episode in the Life of Steve Broad.
You didn't know Steve Broad? More's the pity! A jollier, better-heard and manlier fellow never pissed against a wall.
He was my constant chum from the time we occupied some diggings in Camden Town. Till he went to Australia we were together.
The Siamese Twins, Castor and Pollux, were not more inseparable.
Old Jack Falstaff and Prince Henry and Poins loved each other because “their legs were both of a bigness.”
Shall I whisper the secret or one of the secrets of our attachment? Our pricks were both of a length and our arse-holes the same gauge. Don't infer too much from that admission. It was not often that we fucked. There, I will tell you a story that will show you the sort of fellow he was.
Steve had a pal, Alf Nugent, and he and Alf had lived together as chums. Alf occasionally receiving a visit in his lodging from a pretty sister, Lettice, as they called her from Letty Nugent, a charming little blonde with oh! such shoulders; a mouth humid and peachlike and a pair of eyes that would entice the bark off a tree.
It was not long before Steve and Letty struck up an acquaintance. Steve could make love like a Romeo.
Letty was “willing” as Barkis, and the brother Alf was not one to spoil sport, so the three got on charmingly together. Alf often gave a pleasant little party. I was invited. Steve had made my acquaintance in the city, and took me there. I introduced a young girl Kitty Marshall, and Alf brought his inamorata, Nellie Grover. So that the six of us formed a pleasant little gathering and rare fun we had.
Let me sketch for you one of our social meetings after a recherche supper, prepared by the nimble hands of Letty Nugent, who turned out every article as palatable as Ruth Pinch's Steakpie.
The table was cleared of all but wines and fruits, the couches were drawn up to the fire and the six of us would go in for a little fun.
Steve would warble in his rich manly voice a polly song, such as:
There's a thing that bears a well-known name,
Though it is but a little spot;
Its smell sets my heart and my brain in a flame,
And its touch makes my prick grow hot.
'Tis the sweetest thing this world can show,
To praise it can't be wrong;
'Twill set your blood in a fervid glow,
Make your prick grow stiff and long.
'Tis a woman's cunt. Her glorious fan,
Oh, a cunt is the pride of an Englishman.
That cunt will not be treated with shame,
But calls for proper respect;
And though mostly fit for a fucking game,
Yet it sometimes in mourning is decked.
Then beware how you go with the darling then,
Or perhaps sorely punished you'll be;
For cunt won't be the sport of men,
When it wants its privacy.
For caprice is part of cunt's own plan
To enhance its joys to an Englishman.
But when cunt is ready, I give you the tip,
No half-hearted play can it stand;
It likes to be fondled with tongue and with lip,
And shuns not the touch of your hand.
But the glorious Prick sets Miss Cunt in a thrill,
She loves a prick, long, thick, and firm.
And she'll wriggle and pant till you madly fill
Her bang full of glowing sperm.
You may frig and gamahuche and try every plan,
But fair fucking's the pride of an Englishman.
Of course a song like this was well received and quickly followed by a practical illustration.
My little lady, Kitty Marshall, warmly defended gamahuching and so did I; for laying Kitty down on the couch and parting her beautiful legs I displayed to the others a cleft that an angel would think it a new joy to suck. Soon the whole six of us were engaged in an amorous orgy, and Steve, who certainly could boast the most magnificent priapus that ever adorned a man, took pretty little Letty in his arms and gave her what you may call an “Exhibition Fuck.” His balls knocked against the entrance of her lovely quim and at last when she wriggled and panted and hugged him into a spend he poured such a libation into her that we could see it overflow and they mutually lay entranced until we revived them with some glorious wine.
Then we would go in for a game of blindman's buff, all being stripped naked and armed with birch; we would scamper about the room, cutting right and left, and endeavouring to land some smart blows on each other's glowing posteriors, until thoroughly exhausted; we would sit down on our smarting arses for a good story or song.
Apropos of our game of blindman's buff, Alf told us a good story.
A respectable-looking old buck was brought before Mr. Norton, the magistrate, charged with dog stealing or rather enticing ladies' dogs to follow him with the intention of stealing them.
“Well, sir,” said Mr. Norton, “what have you to say to this charge?”
“If your honour will allow me to explain it in my own way and give you a little bit of my history I think I can prove it is all a mistake.”
“Well,” said the magistrate, “go on.”
“Well, your honour, a year or two ago I had a little money and wishing to see life I took a walk late at night in the neighbourhood of Haymarket, and got into the company of one of those girls.”
“One of what girls?” said Norton.
“A whore.”
“Well, sir, your expression is far from elegant, but I understand you.”
“Well, your honour, this girl enticed me home and there I found a lot of her companions and a nice little spree we had. At last we proposed a game of blindman's buff, and as I was the only male present it was proposed that we should all strip and then the ladies should be blindfolded and a prize given to the lady that caught me. Oh, it was jolly fun to see the girls running about naked and catching hold of each Other and their slipping their hands down to the proper place to feel if it was the man they held; but they kept giving me such jolly slaps on my bottom that I tried to run out of the door when one of the girls picked up my umbrella which stood in the corner and made a lunge at me (the devil must have looked). Oh, the tip of the umbrella entered my fundament as it was turned to her and as she withdrew it the ferule was left behind, and there it is now, and every time Isigh—”
“Every time you what?” asked Mr. Norton.
“Well, every time I fart, if you like, the ferule whistles and the dogs follow me and I can't help it.”
Mr. Norton laughed heartily at this explanation, told him not to diet windily, and let him go.
But, however, to return to Steve. He soon got to be really in love with Letty, proposed marriage to her and had the full consent of her brother Alf, and the promised consent of her father; and it was arranged that on the return of Alf and his sister to their country home, Steve should come on a visit and get the old boy's consent.
The old gentleman invited him to get a look at him.
The time came. Alf and Letty went home and Steve was soon to follow.
At last the day arrived and he went.
After picking up his traps, bidding his landlady good-bye, and giving the slavey a farewell grind on the kitchen-dresser, he took himself down to the station, booked for Fairbanks, and was soon seated alone in a first-class carriage.
Alone! Yes, all but a delightful companion—the last number of The Pearl with which and his favourite meerschaum Steve whiled away the time as the stations flew past.
It was a beautiful day but he heeded not the aspect of the country, so thoroughly was he absorbed in the doings of Lady Pokingham and Miss Coote, etc.
All this excited his imagination until he got in a most furious state, not knowing how to ease his torment, and only wishing that he had a companion on the journey, whether male or female, he would have heeded not. He was in such a pitch of excitement that he would have got into a kangaroo, when—
The train stopped at Bellevue, and—
A young lady got on board carrying a rather large bundle which she placed under the seat and then sat down.
Steve's heart bounded as he noticed her light flowing hair, her airy step, and her little figure. But she was closely veiled and as yet he could not see her face, but the lovely swell of her bosom, the creamy whiteness of the little bit of her throat that was visible convinced him that she was young and lovely.
The train sped on. Modestly the young lady kept her veil down and Steve thrust The Pearl in his pocket and was soon deep in the Times.
Oh, how that veiled face piqued him! Again, again and again he cast his eyes to it over the Times but the veil was still down.
“Does the draught annoy you?” said Steve, pointing to the partly opened window.
“Not at all, thank you,” replied a sweet voice behind the veil.
Something in the voice thrilled Steve through. He had heard it before he felt sure, and he was more anxious than ever to see the face it belonged to.
At last as they passed a certain station with a sigh of relief she threw up her veil and turned her face to her hero.
“Good heavens, Kate, is it you?”
“Why, Mr. Broad, who would have thought of seeing you. Oh, I am so glad. You know that odious old lawyer, that wanted to marry me? Well I am positively flying from him and until I passed this station I felt they would pursue me. That is why I kept myself veiled but now I am quite out of my trouble, I think; for I have got a disguise which I shall put on. I tried all I could to get into an empty carriage but the guard assured me there was not one, but now you can help and not hinder me.”
Let me tell you now, that Steve and the lady were old friends. They had met the first time at some private theatricals. Steve made love to her in the character of a French Count on the stage, and in his character of an English lover off. the stage, he managed to make a first appearance in Kate's delicious cunny. In fact he took her maidenhead and many a delightful love-fuck they had, until Kate went abroad. And now they had met again under such strange circumstances.
“Let me tell you quickly,” said Kate, “I am engaged to Paul Jellocombe, you remember him. Well, love, you won't be jealous when I tell you we are going to be married as soon as ever I am of age. I have escaped from home and mean to stay with Paul's folks until a few weeks elapse when I shall be my own mistress. And now for my plan: I have eluded them so far, but for fear they should dispatch a message to the telegraph station and stop me I have brought a disguise, and now, help me on with it, quick. You shall be my lady's-maid.”
Before Steve had time to get his breath the charming, volatile girl took off bonnet and cloak, undid her dress, whipped it off around her feet, exposing a lovely pair of white shoulders and two glowing breasts, small for her size, but round, polished as marble.
If Steve's priapus had before been excited it was now delirious.
Jumping from his seat he helped her take off her petticoats, etc., until she came to her drawers.
“Stop sir, that will do,” said Kate, “I don't want any further undressing. No! No! Don't be foolish. I can allow no liberties. Quick, I know this line well, you have only just time to turn me into a middy before we get to the next station.
Stooping as she spoke she undid the bundle at her feet and quick as her nimble fingers could move and with Steve's assistance, she was soon dressed as a middy. Her light hair was tucked cleverly up, a short crisp wig assumed. Her cap stuck jauntily on her head. She looked as smart and trim a middy as ever saluted the quarter-deck.
The transformation was no sooner completed than the train stopped at a station, and they both jumped out for refreshments.
The rollicking girl, her walk, her gait, showed her well fitted to play her part. She was indeed no mean actress.
As soon as they were back in the carriage, which Steve adroitly secured for themselves by puffing a tremendous cloud of smoke in the eyes of an old lady who would have entered, Steve took the middy on his knee.
“Well, Kate, love, this is quite an adventure and I tell you, it is a long way to the next station, and as it has been one of the great ambitions of my life to fuck a midshipman this is too good an opportunity to let it pass.”
Kate offered no resistance. Thrusting his hand into the bosom of her jacket he first felt her round and polished breasts, pinched her nipples and fired her with his wanton touches and the hot burning kisses he printed on her lips. Then unbuttoning his trousers he allowed his splendid staff d'amour to display itself before her.
“Oh, Steve, how it has grown since I saw it last,” said Kate mischievously as she took it in her hand.
“Yes,” said Steve, who could not resist a pun, “I have heard him groan for a taste of your darling cunny. Come, let me feel how it is getting on?”
As he spoke he slid his hand into her trousers and felt her cunt, moist and mossy, tickled her clitoris, and roused all her warming passions.
As the train sped on they abandoned themselves to all that their impassioned natures could suggest.
Steve knelt down on the floor of the carriage and opening wide Kate's legs he pressed his hot lips to her creamy cunt, and gamahuched her, until she spent in delirious pleasure.
And then when all his feelings were working up to such a pitch of excitement that he could no longer contain himself, he laid her supple form over the seat and getting into her from behind he thrust his prick to the very hilt in her reeking cunt. One, two, three thrusts and as he clasped her to him with a convulsive thrill he poured out his manly balm in an ecstasy of enjoyment.
“Hi, hi! Stop that you infernal scoundrels! Oh, you dirty rascals!”
In a sudden bewildered start of alarm they looked round to see a red, round, indignant face, ornamented with a bristly white moustache and surmounted by a tuft of white hair that made the upper part of the head look like an infuriated cockatoo.
His face was peeping on them through a window in their compartment, which being concealed by a curtain the same colour as the carriage they had not noticed.
The passenger in the next compartment, reaching something from the back over his head, was prompted to draw the curtain and his restless, listless curiosity was rewarded by seeing Steve ram his hungry prick into Kate's writhing cunt, but as the old boy thought, into the arse.
In a minute Steve and Kate arranged their costume, and were sitting down whilst the passenger continued to glare at them muttering subdued imprecations and swearing he would charge them at the next station.
Without turning his head Steve whispered to Kate to get out at the next station, to bolt through for the highroad and leave him to detain the old boy until he could join her.
Quick as thought, as they neared the station, Steve bolted out, using a railway key he always carried. He locked the compartment in which the old man was alone and he and Kate dashed through the station before the fat old duffer could cause them to be stopped.
Quickly as they could they made for the country and had a parting rural fuck which they thoroughly enjoyed.
There is really something delightful in rural out of doors, al fresco fuck, the music of the birds, the babbling of the nearby stream, the fresh air fanning your face, and invigorating your frame, seem to me to always give great zest and vigour to the performance. I know for myself the thrusts I give are more vigorous, the sperm I spend is more copious and the thrill always more delightful when I have a glorious country-fuck in the open air.
“Good-bye, I am sure it will not be long before I see you again,” said Kate. “And married or not, remember, there is always a loving, dear, affectionate little cunny to welcome you whenever you see me.”
“Farewell,” said Steve, “and be sure my prick will always stand your true friend.”
So they parted.
A hearty welcome awaited Steve at the hands of Alf Nugent and his charming sister Letty.
They were alone in the house, their father being expected shortly, so they made him quite free.
After a jolly meal for which his long walk had given him an appetite, Alf said: “Now let me show you our private boudoir.”
Following him, Steve soon found himself in a most tastefully furnished little room. A pianoforte stood in one corner, other musical instruments were about the room, splendid pictures of voluptuous scenes adorned the walls and a glorious couch that seemed fit for a seraph to recline on stood the chief object of attention.
“And now,” said Alf, “before my father comes home, and he will not be long, he has only some slight business in the town, let us see if you are in good form. Letty is dying for a fuck and I shall have great pleasure in seeing you operate.”
Steve was quite reinvigorated. It took but a little time for them to undress the lovely girl and lay her at full length on the soft spring-couch.
In a few moments Steve was on her, and his prick buried to the hilt in her luscious cunt.
“Go to it, Steve,” said Alf. “Give it to her. The young hussey has some good stuff to spend, I know, for she sucked my prick three times yesterday. There now, you are getting slow but I'll warm you up, I warrant,” and suiting the action to the word, Alf seized a birch from a corner and laid it smartly across Steve's arse.
This quickened his strokes and soon a shiver shook their bodies and Letty and he melted in a glorious spend.
“Oh, poor Alf, look at his prick,” said Letty.
And turning around as he slid off her, Steve certainly noticed the stiffness of Alf's prick and it was in a most painful state of excitement.
Whilst Steve readjusted his clothes, Letty dropped quietly to her knees, and taking Alf's prick between her ruby lips, soon sucked it into a state of quiescence whilst Steve looked on highly amused at the look of gratified pleasure which soon spread over Alf's countenance.
“Hark!” said Alf, “what is that! A carriage, as sure as I live, it must be father. Look, Steve, from the window, who is it?”
Steve looked out.
“It is an old gentleman coming up the garden walk, Alf. Is that your father?”
Alf peered out.
“Yes.”
“Then for heaven's sake don't let him see me, I must disguise myself. I cannot stop now to tell you how, but something must be done to destroy my identity or I am done for. Quick, Letty, you go down and meet your father; Alf and I will join you presently!”
Letty soon disappeared, though burning with curiosity. She was docile and did as she was bidden.
“Now, Alf,” said Steve, “you're guv'nor saw me in the railway carriage fucking a lovely girl, but as I was having her backwards and she was disguised as a sailor—a tale hangs to it but I can't tell you now—I expect he thought I was doing a bit of backdoor work and as he may be a particular old boy he must not know me again.”
Steve was a young man of decision. Although it cost him a sigh, his beautiful whiskers were soon sacrificed. His tact and skill soon changed his whole appearance and when he descended to join Letty and Mr. Nugent, but for a sign from Alf, Letty would not have known him. Much less did Mr. Nugent recognize the bold fucker of the railway.
That's how Steve lost his whiskers.
A curious sequel hangs to the story.
After dinner, when the gentlemen were alone, the old gentleman began:
“A very curious circumstance happened to me this morning when in a railway-train. I happened accidentally to look through the window of the compartment and saw a young man actually in the act of indecency with a midshipman; the rascals escaped by locking me in the carriage. However, in the carriage he had left, the young villain dropped a book. I took charge of it; as I had no spectacles I did not look close at it but as it doubtless contains some clue to the rascal, look at it for me.”
Steve saw in a moment it was The Pearl; but knowing no clue to his identity was in it, he just glanced at it, handed it back, advising old Nugent to look at it more closely in the privacy of his chamber.
The old chap retired presently for his afternoon nap, taking the book with him, and soon after they heard peals of laughter from his room. Then he was heard walking up and down and soon his voice was heard calling Patty, his favourite servant.
Alf and Steve peeped through the keyhole after she had entered the room and saw him reading passages from the book. Then taking her in his arms he laid her on the bed, and raising his shirt-tail, he displayed his prick, stalwart and strong. In a few moments it was lodged in her creamy cunt. And both Steve and Alf were convinced that the old boy knew the way there.
In the evening old Nugent called Letty and Steve, joined their hands and said: “Bless you my children! A delightful little work I have been reading today has put fucking in such a beautiful light that I at once give you my consent to commence it as soon as possible. I have quite altered my opinion about that young fellow I saw and am convinced that to give his prick a treat is the first duty of every man at all times. I propose now that your nuptials shall be celebrated by a glorious fucking tournament.”
This was done. Happiness was the lot of them all that evening.
Old Nugent never found out Steve's escapade. He died soon after and left them a heap of money, and so amorous was the old boy to the last that they had to send for the servant to toss him off, before they could get the lid on the coffin.
Kate married and is quite happy and I long to see Steve and have another laugh with him over: “How he lost his whiskers.”
The ladies in America have taken to dabbling on the Stock Exchange.
The following telegrams passed between two lady friends and rather puzzled the telegraph officials.
“Dear Louise, a bull here has a large concern for which he is anxious to find an opening. Can you accommodate him?”
The reply was:
“I cannot at present as my monthly settlements are on, but if the bull can keep it standing for a week, I have no doubt I can find a vacancy for it.”
Q.—When is a newly married lady like the Victory at Trafalgar?
A.—When her cock-pit is full of bloody semen.
A pretty little novice in her convent woke at dawn,
And looking from her lattice she spied upon the lawn,
A handsome shepherd quite intent
On playing with his instrument, his instrument so long!
She raised the window softly and watched him for a while,
Delighted with his movements, then asked him with a smile:
“Oh shepherd, pray, my wish consent,
And say what is that instrument, that instrument so long?
You play with it so nicely, it gives me joy to see,
So dear, I implore you, to teach the same to me;
Oh, kind young shepherd, pray consent,
I'll finger well your instrument, your instrument so long!”
He looked up to her lattice with pleasure in his eye,
And cried: “Come down, fair maiden, for there you are too high,
Far, far too high for the extent,
That I can stretch my instrument, my instrument so long.”
She tarried not a moment, but swiftly rushed below,
And with the handsome shepherd she learned her lesson so
That soon she played most excellent
Fantasies on his instrument, his instrument so long!
The first sweet lesson over for her too fast, she then
In winning tones addressed him: “I'd like to play again.”
Once more her fingers to work went,
Which made him use his instrument, his instrument so long!
But strangers seemed approaching, the fair girl bid him fly,
And cried: “Oh, don't forget me, whene'er you travel by,
Oft, oft, come back, and we'll invent
Fresh tunes for that dear instrument, that instrument so long!”
Tune—“Derry-Down.”
I sing not of despots, or slaves who submit,
Not of farmer George, Jenky, Dundas, Fox or Pitt!
My ballad's the bantling of laughter and gig,
'Tis of an old cock in a c—tified wig.
'Gainst the poll tax of Pitt this old codger did rave,
Like a felon transported, it forc'd him to shave.
“Tho' tried for my life,” said th' old buck, “I'll rob
The tail of some Dolly to build a brown bob.”
Near Somerset House he fell in with a tit,
And he thought for his purpose the c—tling was fit;
But when he examin'd her parts; d'ye see,
All the hair of her c—t wouldn't make a toupee.
The same night he picked up a merry-ars'd wench,
The hair-quantum stuff of the wise-wig'd bench;
Whilst on her back, sleeping as fast as a top,
He with keen cutting scissors her c—t made a crop.
Away went the thief, and the barber received,
The booty, for which a final caul he had weav'd;
But strange! whilst old razor the wig had in hand,
The pole in his breeches did constantly stand.
Well pleas'd with his plight, Razor laid by his work,
And lather'd the beard of his wife like a Turk.
“Keep the wig,” said she, “love, don't expose it for sale.
'Tis bob for your head and a bob for my tail.”
The wig frizz'd and curl'd, closely shav'd Codger's nob;
Away went the barber to try on the bob;
But the box waxing warm, Codger's passions did rise,
Which brought tears in his breeches instead of his eyes.
In rampant condition he flew to a fair,
And perchance met the Dolly he'd robb'd of her hair;
She whipp'd off the wig, cloth'd his parts with the caul,
So in went his dry bob, and wet bob, and all.
Now we know to be true what anatomists state,
That the fountain of love is supplied from the pate;
'Twas the jasey provoking, sirs, mark what I say,
Made his fountain of love's bason to play.
Then take my advice, ye old cocks of the game,
Whenever you find your wild passions grown tame,
Get a wig made of hair from the spot ye all prize,
And in spite of your prudence your pego will rise.
ACROSTIC.
Come father dear! now lay your body down
Upon your daughter's naked belly white,
Now raptures soon shall our embraces crown;
This is the only road to true delight!
I know the lessons I have learnt from you,
Sweet lessons in the flowerY paths of love!
Sure I'll remember all I ought to do,
When I am under and you are above!
Enter at once, dear father, to my bower,
Each movement of your prick will give me bliss!
'Tis joy to me to know I have the power,
With you to share sweet rapture such as this!
How often you have praised my cunt's tight grip!
Each time you fuck 'tis better than the last!
Now from my cunt your prick will never slip!
Your legs and mine entwined shall keep it fast!
Only a father's love such joy can give,
United thus, forever I could live!
Nor envy those who boast a husband's love.
Give me always this prick, I ne'er will rove,
And never wish for any other man.
No prick with this, I'm certain, can compare!
Does it not take both of my hands to span?
Then what a wealth he has of curly hair!
Each morn upon my cunt his burning kisses fall,
Night after night his tongue enters my quim so small.
Do it again, papa, I can't forbear to call,
Even my mother laughs and says: “My husband dear,
Ram in your prick at once, and end this wild career.”
THE WEDDING NIGHT.
When John and Sue had tied the nuptial bands,
Like ardent lovers, join'd their hearts and hands,
Hymen prepared his torch to bless the two
And in them centered his peculiar care.
The blissful hour arriv'd, Sue to his bed
By buxom damsels joyfully was led;
One with officious hands her stays unlac'd,
While standers-by extoll'd her lessening waist;
Her garters some with eagerness untied,
And all by turns were variously employ'd.
Susan, with bashful modesty array'd,
Like to a prudent and virtuous maid,
Now plac'd in bed, these dubious thoughts arose:
“I fear this night I'll have no repose;
To bed with man; methinks is vastly odd,
Tho' matrimony was ordain'd by God.
Oh, how my virgin frame will shake with fear,
When am'rous John in glowing hopes draws near;
If my fair front to his I shall incline,
And all my blooming charms at once resign,
He'll say I'm bold and turn his head aside,
And think he's purchas'd a lascivious bride.
To him, my parts posterior if I turn,
He'll charge me with indecency and scorn—
But here he comes:—Oh, how shall I behave,
To show myself his true and faithful slave?
A medium I'll observe, fall which way it will;
Of his fair Susan John won't take it ill,
And 'that I no apology may lack.
I'm e'en resolved to lie upon my back.”
GOD SAVE QUEEN CUNT.
God save our great Cunt! our Queen!
For ever may she reign,
Supreme o'er all!
Her praises we will sound,
True bliss in her is found,
She long ago was crowned,
Queen of the world!
Adam in Eden's bowers,
With choicest fruits and flowers,
Felt all alone!
Only his prick to frig,
When it was hard and big,
Till he felt with fatigue
Weary and worn!
Our Queen saw his distress,
And swift to his redress
From heaven she came.
Told him her name was Eve,
And asked him to believe
That she would relieve
Prick's burning flame!
Adam at once replied:
“For something I have sighed,
I knew not what!
This cunt you show to me,
New strength puts into me,
And yet it seems to me,
My prick's more hot!”
Great Cunt, our Queen, then said:
“On this bank in the shade
I will lay down.
Put your prick in the slit,
Never fear the tight fit,
Push, and it will admit,
Your cock so brown!
Up and down move your bum,
In which I'll put my thumb,
To keep good time!
Shove your cock in and out,
Until from his blunt snout
The sperm shall madly spout,
'Tis bliss divine!”
Can I describe our Queen?
Her beauties must be seen
To be well known.
Lips that are lecherous,
Perfect and amorous,
And odoriferous!
This is her crown!
You will find her great chink,
Lined with skin quite pink,
God bless Queen Cunt!
Never in man or beast,
Will you find such a feast,
If with your tongue you taste
Her juicy cunt!
Emp'rors and kings bow down
To her power and renown,
Queen Cunt they love!
Their pricks with joy they push
Into her hairy bush,
And with a furious rush
With joy they shove!
The Pope of Rome, I know,
Cunt's claims cannot forgo,
But owns her sway!
Cardinal, monk and priest,
From greatest to the least,
All love her luscious feast,
Both night and day!
Mankind of every race,
Where'er their dwelling place,
Get the stiff prick.
Chinese or Negromen,
Zulus or Englishmen,
Irish or American,
Love Cunt's sweet nick!
Ever since Adam's day
Cunt has maintained her sway
Over the world!
Never by piety,
Or any dignity,
From her authority
Has she been hurled!
Cunt's greatest foe has been,
One that is quite obscene:
A tight arse-hole!
Conquered now is this foe,
Perfect his overthrow!
In sight he dares not show,
To save his soul!
God save great Cunt, our Queen,
Let her throne be between
Sweet woman's thighs!
And may the curling hair,
Gracefully clustering there,
Man's pego still ensnare,
Until he dies!