Papa revelled in his rear attack as his hand fondled with delight the
Doctor's prick and balls at every withdrawal from Ethel's cunt, the
lips of which he could also feel as they tenaciously clung round the
shaft of that fine instrument, which was giving such pleasure at every
thrust.
At this juncture Frank willed the parson to awake from the mesmeric
trance. His eyes resumed their wanton intelligence, and as he at once
realised the situation, his usual sanctified demeanour caused him to
give vent to an assumed exclamation of horror, "How awful, what have
they been doing to me!" Then, "Oh, it must be a dream of my old college
days, by Jove, how we fucked and buggered at Oxford!"
"That's right, Doctor," laughed Frank, "now you are beginning to fairly
comprehend how we are punishing you for taking advantage of Mamma this
afternoon, only it's pleasure instead of pain, old boy. But we thought
anyone with such a glorious prick as yours ought not to be too hardly
treated."
The spasm of pleasure prevented further speech at the moment, fairly
carrying away the whole group by the intensity of the sensations which
such erratic voluptuousness could not fail to produce upon natures
which, after all, were only sustained by the ordinary powers of
humanity, in fact it was too exhaustive to allow of further indulgence
in venery upon the present occasion. But after recovering a little, the
Doctor, who now thoroughly relished the idea, proposed that Harry,
Blanche, and Ada should be still kept in their entranced state to
afford them amusement, as he said it would be a fine treat to make them
tell all the little games they had been up to.
The three subjects were not allowed to dress, but all the others now
resumed their clothes, then the parson proceeded to catechise them.
Q.—Blanche, did you ever hear how babies are made?
A.—A girl at school told me the men shove their cocks into the girls,
and shoot their spunk into them, which makes the babies.
Q.—Do the girls like to have that done to them?
A.—Yes, it's awfully funny and nice, makes our cunts what they call
spend with pleasure.
Q.—Have you ever felt anything of it yourself? Do the girls play at
fathers and mothers at school?
A.—Nearly every night we used to change bedfellows for the purpose of
having a fresh bit of cock, as we used to call their fingers.
Q.—Go on, tell us all about it.
A.—Some of the girls used a candle or the finger of a glove stuffed
out to make a little prick, a well greased carrot was fine I can tell
you. Once they nearly drove me mad with delight by fucking me with a
carrot, whilst another girl used a tallow candle in my bumhole till
nothing but the wick was left. But I felt awfully bad next day, and you
can fancy I passed tallow when I went to the closet.
Q.—Well, and how did Ada get on?
A.—She did not sleep in our room, she was with the French governess.
Q.—Now, Ada, you must also tell us all you know.
A.—The French governess was so hairy and rude, she began by tickling
my fanny till I didn't know what I was doing, then she laid me back on
the bed, and forced her face between my thighs, and sucked my cunny.
Q.—Well, go on, out with everything.
A.—After a while she would lay over me, and make me kiss her great
hairy slit. Oh, you should have seen what a lot of hair she had on her
belly, as black as jet right up to her navel. And then she used to
wriggle about, and wet all my lips and face, which she called spending.
A favorite game of hers was to make me frig her by forcing as much as I
could of one of my titties into her cunt, which seemed to drive her
almost wild; she would kiss my legs, feet, and any part she could reach
in a frantic way whilst I was doing it.
Q.—Did she never do the same thing to you?
A.—Yes, it was awfully fine to feel her titty and nipple rubbing just
inside the lips of my little cunny, I believe she made me spend—at
least, I fainted and found myself all wet afterwards.
Q.—What other rude games have you been up to, by yourself or with
your sister?
A.—When we were home for the holidays we used to frig each other with
our fingers or titties, the latter was quite a new idea to Blanche.
Then we got a little dog to suck our cunnies. Ah, that was another fine
game, his tongue seemed to go everywhere, and drive us wild with
delight. One day we took it in turns to suck his little prick whilst he
was licking one of us—it was beautiful, but drove the little beast
almost mad. At last we had to tie a stone round his neck and drown the
poor thing, because he was always getting under our clothes.
Q.—Now, Harry, when did you first touch a girl's thing?
A.—I suppose I was about twelve when that happened. My aunt Clara, a
very beautiful young widow of twenty-three, who had just lost my uncle
(her husband) in the terrible Clayton Tunnel accident, and I may here
add that what hurt her sensitive feelings almost more than his loss was
the fact that the gay young fellow had taken a girl on the sly with him
to Brighton for the day, and you know it was on the return journey that
the collision occurred. Well, her grief and thoughts of his conduct,
she said, made her so nervous and low spirited that she begged my Mamma
to allow little Harry, as she called me, to go and stay with her for a
time as companion. Every morning she would come into my bedroom to
awaken me with a loving kiss, pulling off the bed-clothes, and playing
me all sorts of tricks to make me get up. On one occasion, feeling
unusually tired, I begged she would let me lay only a few minutes
longer, as I drew her beautiful face down to my lips and smothered her
with kisses. I was almost uncovered at the moment, it was a bright May
morning, and the glorious sun was flooding the apartment with his beams
of light and warmth. "My darling boy," she said softly, "I have a
slight headache, and will rest on the bed by your side a little while,"
throwing her arms around me, and nestling her soft cheeks against mine.
I soon felt her hands wandering over every part of my body, but it was
so nice that when I felt her touch my naked thigh, I felt a curious
kind of alloverishness, and my little prick stood as stiff as a poker.
At last she touched even that. My eyes were apparently closed,
pretending to be in a doze, but I could see the blush that came into
her cheeks, and felt her give a kind of shudder all over. She caressed
my little cocky for a moment or two, which gave me a kind of longing
for her to go on. I could see she was greatly agitated, but my own
sense of pleasure prevented me thinking much about that. My heart
seemed to go out to her in a gush of love, as I suddenly opened my
eyes, and throwing my arms around her neck once more, kissed her again
and again.
How her eyes sparkled, and she seemed to blush deeper than ever, but
her soft hand never let go of the little treasure she had secured.
"Harry, my dear boy, is your little affair often like this? It is quite
unnaturally hard," she asked me in a low, husky kind of whisper.
"Perhaps you are ill, my dear, let me see," saying which she threw back
the bed-clothes, and examined my privates, handling my stiff pintle
very tenderly, as if she really thought there might be something the
matter with me, and finished by kissing my cock and taking the poor
thing in her mouth as she said it must be quite painful to bear. You
may guess that the only effect of her endearments was to make my affair
swell up bigger than I had ever known it, as well as putting me in a
kind of flutter all over, in fact I can't describe how she made me feel.
The next night I had been asleep about a couple of hours when I was
suddenly awakened by someone bringing a light into my room; it was
Auntie Clara in her nightdress. "Harry," she said, "I feel so nervous,
pray do come and sleep with me, I don't like to ask the servants, and
you can slip back into your room in the morning."
I was too pleased to say no, and soon found myself in her bed nestling
close to her, with my face between her soft bubbles. She at once asked
me if my affair was stiff, and seemed astonished to find it again hard
when she caressed it, as I told her it had been quite limp all day.
She kissed me again and again, telling me it proved I was getting to be
a man. "But, Harry darling, you must never say a word about it. Would
you like to be my little husband and always sleep with me?"
"Oh, Auntie, that would be delightful, would you marry me if I was a
man?" I asked in reply.
"Yes, darling, and I will wait till you grow up, if you promise now to
be my husband, and keep secret everything between us."
How we played together after I gave her my solemn promise. She let me
feel her all over, got out of bed, lighted three or four candles, and
stripped herself quite naked for me to see what she was like. She made
me kiss her lovely cunt, all covered and shaded by dark chestnut hair
as it was, and assured me I should soon also have hair round the roots
of my cock, then she showed me how to be a husband to her, and made me
work my little cock in her till she almost drowned it in her spendings.
So you see I have been engaged to be married ever since then, and every
time we have a chance Aunt Clara accords me all the rights of a
husband. She says we have only to wait a year or two now, as she has a
handsome income, enough for us both if my parents object.
This was the end of the séance, the subjects were all put in order and
restored to consciousness, and the Doctor quietly whispered to Mr. and
Mrs. Etheridge that he should like to bring his two nieces after the
Sunday evening service, to be mesmerized again and have their
maidenheads taken, it would be such a treat to see it done.
It is not necessary to weary the reader by full details of how Frank
and Harry did this for them, to complete the satisfaction of their
reverend uncle, who again enjoyed the delights of being sandwiched
between his host and hostess, and helped them to realise every erotic
imagination of their hearts.
By way of conclusion it will perhaps be interesting to relate the
experiences of a young lady (none other than Minette) who paid a visit
to this charming family in later days.
The account is taken from a letter sent to a gentleman friend, to whom
she was much attached at the time.
One day we were all taken into what I imagined to be the drawing room,
but afterwards ascertained it was a place strictly confined to the
private use of the family and that but one confidential servant was
ever allowed to enter it, for the purpose of cleaning, dusting, and
keeping it in order. The walls were hung with pictures of the most
exciting character, and in the centre of the room was a huge bed,
covered with crimson velvet and stuffed with down, but without any of
the ordinary bed-clothing, instead there were a quantity of cushions
variously shaped and also covered with velvet. Some of these were
fitted with concealed dildoes, so that when pressed between the thighs
the most delightful frigging could be produced. Some were fitted with
artificial cunts for the use of gentlemen, if they felt so inclined.
There were flogging machines of every description, and various articles
of furniture for supporting the body in peculiar positions which might
be required while being fucked, sucked, or buggered.
The door was no sooner closed than I was seized by Frank and his mother
and tumbled on the bed, where they rummaged every part of my body,
bottom-hole, cunt, and bubbies, and at last forced one of the
dildo-cushions between my thighs and compelled me to frig myself upon
it, while they pulled up my clothes and slapped my poor arse for some
minutes without mercy, laughing and enjoying my screams as my tender
rump plunged up and down in exquisite pain.
Ethel was helping them by sitting on my shoulders so that I was quite
powerless, but when they presently desisted from that cruel slapping
and I felt tongue, finger, or prick alternately forced up my bottom, it
was delicious—the heat of the previous infliction making me feel so
lecherous that the spunk actually spurted from my quim as I wriggled
myself up and down on the dildo.
Ethel I found also (as soon as the paroxysm of spending had allayed my
feelings a little, and I was allowed to look around) was sucking her
father's prick, whilst he was frigging her.
Next, the servant Maud entered the room and was immediately stripped to
the skin and bound to a flogging machine, where they birched her
deliciously (at least it looked so to me, although she screamed and
writhed about in pain, and begged for mercy as the tears streamed down
her face), till she was on the verge of spending. She was then left to
suffer the agonies of unsatisfied desire, while we enacted all the most
lascivious things we could think of in her sight.
I took Mr. Etheridge's prick and frigged it between my bubbies, whilst
he sucked the prick of his son.
We then tickled the girl's inflamed cunt with stinging nettles, which
increased her excitement till she seemed mad with erotic delirium, and
Mr. Etheridge, to my horror, proposed that we should injure her as a
finish to our orgy for that evening.
Mr. Etheridge drove his tremendously inflamed prick into her
bottom-hole, the position in which she was suspended making the
operation awfully painful. Frank fucked the poor girl in the cunt. Mrs.
Etheridge and Ethel, with savage pleasure, each sucked and bit the
victim's nipples, causing her to writhe and scream in agony. The two
fuckers were at the same time frigging mother and daughter, whilst they
passed the sensation on to me by also manipulating my cunt and bottom.
Suddenly I heard a yell of agony, and found that Frank, just in the
moment of spending, had stabbed the girl with a small dagger which he
had concealed in his hand.
We all spent together with mingled cries of lust and delight, the
convulsive movements of the suffering girl adding immensely to the
intensity of this voluptuous emission.