Оглавление

  • CHAPTER ONE
  • CHAPTER TWO
  • CHAPTER THREE
  • CHAPTER FOUR
  • CHAPTER FIVE
  • CHAPTER SIX
  • CHAPTER SEVEN
  • CHAPTER EIGHT
  • CHAPTER NINE
  • CHAPTER TEN
  • CHAPTER ELEVEN
  • CHAPTER TWELVE
  • CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  • CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  • CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  • CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  • CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  • CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  • CHAPTER NINETEEN
  • CHAPTER TWENTY
  • CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

    Anonymous

    Muriel


    CHAPTER ONE

    Phillip Mansfield's Day-Book

    Where there is silence there is pain; where there is music there is often pain; where there is absence there is pain. And sometimes all these congregate, even in the presence of the once-beloved, becoming like a veil across the eyes, a tight band round the forehead, so that the pain obtains the greyness of an early-evening mist, obscuring the thoughts, the words, to which the mind would otherwise give birth.

    In such moments, clamped within my own being, and feeling that the very spaces around me (those spaces between the furniture and the walls such as encroach on one in moments of douleur more than do the physical objects themselves) are areas of the alien, of foreignness, even though lived in, walked in, day by day-yes, in such moments I am drawn into a dullness, an unspeaking, a sense of being separated from myself and from all others.

    It is because, I am told, I live too much in my mind, when in fact I would that I could live in others' minds- for I, the real Phillip (seemingly unknown to those I hold most dear) have sat and held his once-beloved's hand, discoursing with her in the manner of a flowing stream and pausing only at the stones and bridges of her words, absorbing and enfolding them to show my true identity with her. Ah, how often-how often-did I clamp my lips upon my wife's (aware that my own were too wet and too loose sometimes) and swear to her that in my love for her I would become her, dissolve and disappear in her, and know our souls to be united.

    'They cannot be', she would say and turn her face. Downstairs a piano might be tinkling-its notes wounding with their brittle, careless sounds. Then would come a silence and my wife would stir. The bed must be smoothed, she would say, or the maid would see, and this despite my protestations that we had not made love, nor I as much as flirted a hand beneath her skirt.

    'Even so, Phillip, even so', she always murmured and would pat her hair with that distracted air of a woman who is not appeased or, if she is, has her mind elsewhere, though she will not acknowledge it.

    'I cannot be other than myself any more than you can be other than yourself, she often said.

    'And thus there is a vacuum where love should be', said I.

    'No vacuum, Phillip, but rather an enclave of desire that will renew itself. I cannot help myself if love between my legs enchants me more than is in my head'.

    'Impure!', I cried, but said it only in my head.

    The words we spoke grew rougher through the years, the intervals between our kisses longer. Hiding our deceptions as we might before the children, we could never quite dissemble them. Words of parting rose, and Amy cried, clung to her mother. Richard, whose nineteen years I then relied upon to make him manly, would not speak to either of us, yet I saw him in the last week of their abiding here kiss his mother thrice, and once in fullness on her lips, whereat she threw her head back, stroked his hair.

    I could not shout at them to stop. Such is the guile of circumstance that I would have been accused by her of 'being miserable'. Pretending not to see, I turned away. The hour was late. Amy and Sylvia were both in bed. Passing straight-backed, straight-legged, out of the room, I heard a succulence of mouths, yet chided myself and not them for impure thoughts. 'Darling', she called him, though had never called me more than 'dear'.

    A whole hour passed before she came to bed that night, her nipples stiff. I saw them as she dropped her camisole. I wished to ask why she had stayed so late downstairs, but could not bring myself to ask. The bows of her drawers were all untied already, and they fell down loose, at which she turned towards the bed wherein I lay and asked, 'Do you not like me thus-not like me thus?'

    Her bottom cheeks were pink as though they had been clutched. There were fingermarks upon her bottom cheeks, I swear.

    The lamp was on. One does not look between a woman's legs in light. I had not stirred nor answered her. She heeled the drawers off nimbly and I saw a damp stain there, down at the crotch.

    'I am so moist there-put it in', she said. Her face was flushed from drinking too much wine-the red that brings a flush into her cheeks. Richard ascended from the drawing room where they had been. He passed our door on tiptoe and closed his own as though he feared the noise to sound.

    'Do not speak so', I said. I would not look. She frequently had such a lewdness on her in her words.

    There was a silence then-that silence of foreboding such as when a house stands dark and empty on a moor and the first snow falls upon the silent eaves.

    'You do not want to-will not challenge your cock to my nest?', she asked, and laughed a scornful laugh that hurt my mind. 'If you believe your sinful thoughts of me, then sinful I may be, just to fulfill the image in your mind, Phillip. Come-challenge! — take me under you and I will tell you very naughty things. I only have my stockings on. You like to feel my stockings, do you not?'

    Ah, wheedling voice, and yet I did not speak. That was the voice of sin and not of love. I felt her kneel up on the bed and knew her legs to be apart. I strained away. Her hand touched at my shoulder and then fell. It was the breaking point perhaps. I knew it to be so but could not help myself.

    Then I shall sleep elsewhere', I heard her say.

    O utter loneliness of that wide bed when the door opened, closed, and she had gone! Her long, frilled nightgown lay still on the bed. I heard the slither of her stockinged feet. All night, it seemed, moans sounded in my ears. One cannot write of such, cannot. No words were spoken at the breakfast table. Amy and Sylvia were mute and hushed. Richard took coffee in his room. Within an hour the bags were all brought down. Solemnity fell upon us like a pall.

    To Liverpool, she said-told Sylvia, not me. Dear Sylvia, she did not wish to leave. Or not as yet, she said, or not as yet. Her mother kissed her fondly, then was gone with Amy and Richard silent in her train.

    Perhaps I should have spoken, said, asked, pleaded. No-I would not plead. I had trodden once too often on that stony ground, watching my words fly beyond her ears-not wholly disregarded, so I like to think, but such curt phrases as she often uttered blew my quieter words away. I have no mere words to utter to her-I have none. The bed in which she had slept that night was ruffled and I feared the maid would see, both pillows used where she perhaps had rolled. Too many purple and impassioned things she often said at nights that frayed my mind with their wild, wicked urges, things that should not be spoken of, and that I cannot bring myself to pen.

    Thoughts of that night grow dark and dreary in my mind. I fear for what I think of that stained, twisted sheet, and must not think. I shall pray for her deliverance, and mine, though we may never meet again.

    Sylvia played upon the garden swing today. Her sixteenth birthday is upon us soon. Our maid, Rose, should not push her quite so high. I saw above her stocking tops. Someone should speak to her of that, for I cannot. Such subjects are improper-thorn the tongue and prick the lips.

    'You look sad, Papa', she laughed. I turned away. I am often told such when in truth I feel but serious. Such innocence becomes the young who feel no pain from silence, music, absence, but ever turn their minds towards some other thing.

    Sylvia Mansfield's Day-Book

    I did not wish to side with anyone, but neither did I wish to go to Liverpool. Mama, I'm sure, forgives me that. I shall visit them at Christmas, anyway. Perhaps she did not understand that Papa needs quietness to pursue his work. His desk is all about with pages of his novel. I am sure his writing was the cause of it, because he wished for quietness, but Mama was hardly ever that. Richard was always kissing her of late. I wonder why. Perhaps he has long wanted to go to Liverpool, for he prefers a city life, and so I expect him to be pleased. I asked Mama is it nice to kiss, and she laughed and said 'Of course it is', but would not tell me any more until my birthday, so she said.

    I do not think Mama and Papa had very much in common, and I hope that is not a horrid thing to say.

    Papa says he will buy me a pony for my birthday. He must have thought of it of a sudden. Perhaps he saw a picture in a book, for I had not dared ask for one. I sometimes think of things that way, by looking in a book. I was undressing when he came up to my room. How awful- oh-my drawers were off and I had one leg raised upon my bed to peel my stockings down! Oh, I did blush!

    Papa said 'Oh!' and shut the door again. I knew that he felt awful, just like me. He did not go away, and then I heard him call, 'It is about your birthday, Sylvia. Would you like a pony?'

    'Yes!', I called and tumbled on my nightdress quickly lest he come within again. I waited, but he did not come. 'Thank you, Papa', I called.

    'I will tell you in the morning', he replied, though he already had.

    My thing has lots of curls around it now. I brush them with my fingers when I am in bed. Perhaps I should not. I wonder if it's wrong?

    Mama said naughty things to Richard sometimes, he told me, but would not say what she had said. He was horrid and I think he made it up. He had his trousers open, but I would not look.


    Phillip's Day-Book

    I grow uneasy at the thought that I have perhaps proposed a pony where Sylvia would better have a true companion. I asked her so. 'Who, Papa?', she replied and looked a little puzzled at my seriousness. 'I am perfectly all right, Papa, I really am', she said, and played with Rose again upon the swing. The two are very close, it seems to me. The servant should be at her work, but again I feel powerless-selfish even-to intrude, and would be better at my work than thinking of such things.

    My novel, however, is like unto a carriage wheel to which the brake has locked itself. My thoughts stir much like porridge when they should really be ethereal. Of men I write well, for they say the proper things that I myself would say. As to women, I find it difficult to describe such thoughts as they may have. Their conversations are thus stilted, and not what I would have them say at all. The image of my once-beloved floats ever in my head. Alas, I see her with her nipples stiff, her drawers already untied beneath her dress. I should scourge myself upon such thoughts as my old tutor used to tell me to.

    It is notable, however-and I must somehow convey this with such clarity as I can muster-that the thoughts we least would have are those which fight with tooth and claw against suppression. Clearly, such is the devil's work. Temptation it is called, and is only with ardent will to be put down. Thus would I not listen to her when she used crude words, however warm her breath against my mouth, however luring were her fingertips. The act of love should be performed in silence and be quickly done. It is deemed for procreation, not for pleasure, so I often said to her.

    'Why, there is naught but paper in your mind sometimes. Someone should light it with a match', said she, and fell to musing who might do it best, just to annoy me and to try and make my mind a whirlpool of unthought-of things.

    'You are not so much interested in the content of your writing as in the act of working with your pen, Phillip. Yet contrariwise, you are not so much interested in the act of love as in the abstract content of it', once she chided me.

    That is not true, of course-that is not true. The irritation in remembering such words robs me of concentration. Half an hour ago I chanced to look out on the garden scene and saw that Sylvia has white drawers on and summer-thin. I must move the swing to face the other way, or else tell Rose to push her not so high.

    Jane Mansfield's Day-Book

    It was hardly surprising to learn that Deirdre has at last left Phillip. It was an uneasy marriage from the very start. Fire and water, as is the saying, and Deirdre, bless her, having all the heat.

    I am glad I did not marry, just as Muriel is. Sisters are best together, and what lovely times we have! It is indiscreet to write of them, perhaps, but when I say so Muriel laughs and tells me not to spare a word of it.

    There was such a pretty girl at the Fortescues' last night. I will write of her another time, for have not time today. We are to keep an eye on Sylvia, Deirdre asks in her brief note that reads as breathlessly as she makes love (I do believe). In what wise she did not say. The bolder that her education be, the better it will be for Sylvia, I think. In any case, the two cannot live all alone. We are resolved to visit Phillip. After all, he is our brother, though I believe he thinks our ways are rather strange.

    We should settle for a fortnight at the least, says Muriel, and are resolved to take the coach tomorrow to his home. It is a whole year since we visited. How glum he looked then, but how bright was Deirdre! Really I believe she would have slept between us if he had not been there.

    Deirdre Mansfield's Day-Book

    Richard is sweet. They both like the new house. How smoky all is-yet in winter it will be even cosier when the fog envelops all the windows and the fires are lit. I must write to Sylvia tomorrow. He does not deserve a word, nor any man who scorns the amourous comfort of his wife and will forever dribble of his love but scarcely ever put the poker in to stir my fire.

    'You are becoming a bad girl', Mama said to me years and years ago, but hugged and kissed me as she spoke. There was at least complicity in her reproof, whereas with Phillip all was dullness and unknowing in his very soul. To speak of naughtiness to him was counted as a sin, and yet I cannot find in it anything but an affirmation of desire which, if it is cloaked, will only spread its roots down more.

    There is love when a tongue between my lips sweeps round my own-love when my breasts are burnished and my nipples stiffened by a fondling hand.

    Last night I sat with Richard on the couch. He kissed my lips; his hand roamed to my breasts and felt their weight and their protuberance. In a moment he had sleeked that self-same hand beneath my skirt and murmured at the plumpness of my thighs.

    I am in sin. Is it better than to be frustrated? I have been lax with him before. That last night at the house before we left, I let him kiss me with abandon, permitted him to loose my drawers till I thrust him up and took myself up to my ever-hopeful marriage bed, there to be scorned-indeed, almost reviled. Have I in truth what Phillip called a 'coarse, lewd tongue' when a fever of desire is in my veins? Should I be as marble, quiet as a church crypt? Never was I chided in my youth for saying naughty things in bed, or in the hayloft, in the summerhouse. There were sparklings then of love and lust combined, and sweet they were and heady as an old champagne. My cousin, Edward, had my sister, Adelaide, upon the lawn, and dusk it was, and we were seen; I had no doubt that we were seen by eyes that peered out from the house. And then it was I who fell and had my drawers pulled down by one who had waited on a moment such as that. Adelaide's eyes enchanted mine as we both came, and drew the sperm into our willing quims.

    You have been educated', Mama said that night, though she pretended not to know what had passed upon the summer grass.

    Phillip has no mind for such. I never should have told him all my tales.

    'There were lovings, Phillip', I explained. He would not listen, though, and turned away. His cock was stiff sometimes when thus I spoke, but was not always so, and that amazed me truly. Was he jealous of my fondlings, pumpings, in my early years? I think not, no. His marbled, cold ideas of purity came in long strides before that sweet emotion could take flower.

    The night was broken on his 'shame' of me-I who would have sported with him as he wished and paid my wifely homage to his bed. I blundered out, left him to his dry dreams, and naked to my stockings made to sleep in an adjoining guest room where a bed is ever ready for a visitor. Alas for my would-be fealty, I blundered into Richard in the dark, he with his nightgown on-and he whose hands had so impulsively sought to caress my bottom cheeks downstairs.

    It was an accident, perhaps, that his out-reaching hand should brush my bush. Upon such small things are new destinies contrived. I choked an exclamation back, went past him quivering horn that faint touch and entered the dark room. He followed me. I dared not squeal or raise my voice-or so I told myself who sought to argue with the hypocrite in me. Or nay, I say the hypocrites in all of us. I jerked, I strained at Richard who had raised his nightgown as we fell in silent struggle on the bed, he fearing me to cry out, and I him to groan out too loud in the pleasures of forbidden fruit. Long did I struggle. Did I struggle long? I felt like the rebellious schoolgirl that I once had been who had to take the birch across her bottom first before she offered up her bottom sobbingly and took the mastering prick within her nest.

    A score of times I must have whispered, 'Richard- no!', but oh, far-faint, mouth kissed, I then succumbed. I hear our nostrils hissing still as there we threshed, his legs between my own-an unreality at first, and yet spellbinding were the jets of come that then extolled my own fine spurts of love till we lay lax, tongues circling, coiling, twirling in the weak, soft aftermath that sweeps aside all barriers of guilt and makes the loins to work in sweet reprise.

    How strangely silent were we that first time, save for our gentle, hungry moans, and how my toes curled as he came!

    'Go from me, Richard, go', I breathed. I wanted to run into that small room that bears the name Remorse, and yet I knew it would not welcome me, for it had never done before. Upon my second threading in the summer-house when I was seventeen, my aunt held me, rained kisses on my lips while the big penis worked its will and flooded me with warm, thick, gruelly sperm.

    'You raised your legs up at the last and curled your toes when he was coming in your quim', she smiled. He rose, I saw that long, thick penis drooling, soapy at the head.

    'Now kiss me once again. I'll make you come anew', she said. She smacked my thighs to keep them open while he looked, but then he went lest Mama came. There is no sin of it, my pet, provided that you like it', so she said.

    I wonder now, but cannot help myself no more than I could then.

    You are much loved', she said. 'Now you have taken his big cock a second time, you will again'.

    I spoke of it with Adelaide. We rubbed our nipples as we spoke. How sweet the boldness that was on us then! Should I return to it? Last night with Richard on the couch, I heard my aunt's words once again that she had uttered in the hayloft the first time, when I had needed to be held.

    'Please, don't! You can't! It's naughty-oh!', I squealed while the swollen crest sheathed itself into my squeezing slit. I kicked. My legs were raised, beat ever feebly on his back. Remorselessly the pulsing peg sank in until his balls hung down beneath my orb. 'I'll tell Mama!', I moaned, though it was to be my last cry of any comprehensibility. Thereafter for a moment I was dulled, was slowly lulled though by the motions of his prick, and finally grew passionate for more.

    But in that cry I heard my aunt say as my bottom squirmed, 'Shush, darling, sin is half the salt of it'.

    Sin is… love is… I do no longer know. The sofa creaked last night. Did Amy hear? I closed my eyes, dreamed Richard other then he was, or made myself to think so, but he cannot be. O fervency of Youth's desire that he could sperm my cunny twice without withdrawing, as he did. I mewed. My naked bottom slurred on the brocade, cupped on his firmly gripping hands.

    'Again!', I moaned and heard my voice as if from far away and long ago.


    CHAPTER TWO

    Muriel Mansfield's Day-Book

    We are to Phillip's then, and I look forward to it. He must be got out of his strange ways. He is, and always was, too quiet and taut, and lives too much within himself. Dear Deirdre, one cannot blame her for her flight, and Sylvia we wish to see again; she is such a darling little thing.

    I shall be thirty-four soon. Am I getting old? I wish I were Jane, and two years younger. If we had been twins… 'But you look scarcely thirty', she reassures me constantly. My bottom has got fatter. I keep looking at it. Jane says it is 'firmly plump' and feels exactly as a woman's should. I hope that is a compliment. Neither of us have had a man for several weeks now, and quite yearn for it.

    'We shall have to go without it, too, in the next two weeks', I said to her. 'Perhaps!', she said and wrinkled up her nose, crinkled her eyes and laughed her wicked laugh.

    Phillip we will surprise at least, and Sylvia, too. I mean to kiss her much, and so does Jane. We cannot help our fondness for young girls. Had we not been made tongue-ready and cock-ready when we both ourselves were young… But still, it's lovely, and I won't complain of it.

    Phillip's Day-Book

    Am I never to be left alone? The descending of my sisters startled me, but was greeted with much joy by Sylvia, which underlined my sense of guilt that she is too much now alone, though Rose is often at her side and in her room. I am not sure of that relationship and said as much to Muriel last night.

    Two pretty girls together make for pleasure, dear', she answered. Often she seems to have a double meaning in her words that I dislike.

    They play games, I expect', I said.-'I'm sure they do', she answered back. She is a trifle plumper round the hips. I could not help but notice that. Her dresses, just as Deirdre's were, are far too tight for decency.

    “Would you rattier that I took it off?', she asked when I remarked upon the low cut of her dress, the sweeping tightness of the lower half.

    'Not, I would NOT, I said and went up to my room, feeling an angry flush about my ears. There was propriety at home when we were young. She never seemed to learn, nor Jane. I have closed my ears to scandals of the pair in which Deirdre seemed to revel. Mother was outraged once when she discovered Jane and Muriel undertaking 'Nature study' with Papa, and having little other than chemises on. He, I am sure, was as embarrassed as I would have been to have them in his room like that, he having wished to show them only his rare butterflies but for a moment, as he told Mama. Both Jane and Muriel ran then into the bathroom, saying that they wished to bathe. Poor Papa's face was quite suffused, for I know well how a man can blush in anger in such a fell circumstance. He had merely tried to educate them, as I told Mama. I had to interfere, for Papa would not answer her-had too much pride; I understood. A man must guard his morals often with a silent tongue lest he be not properly understood.

    Sylvia shows herself to be more forward with her aunts now here. She enjoys her pony and insists on riding it with legs astride the saddle, though I have told her it is quite unladylike. She does not seem to realise that when she mounts and dismounts, one can see her drawers. She lets Rose ride the creature also. Gazing idly through the window, as I oftimes do, I was horrified to see that Rose wears no drawers, for she cocks her leg up high in getting on the pony.

    'You must speak to her, or Muriel must', I said to Jane.

    “No, dear, you are the master of the house. You cannot choose your duties, no more than a woman can. I will send her into you', she said, and smirked. I quite distinctly saw her smirk.

    Then Rose appeared, I knew not what to say. I could not bring myself to use the word 'drawers' and so contented myself with 'insufficient clothing'. To my astonishment the girl replied, 'Oh, sir, it is the custom in the summer. We both leaves them off sometimes. The saddle is nice and smooth, besides. It does not scour our bottoms, sir, at all'.

    The girl looked straight at me as she replied.

    'It is not what I prefer', said I, whereat my daughter rushed within and said, 'Oh, Rose, come quickly! Aunty Muriel is riding now!'

    “Wait, Sylvia', I said. I meant to speak with her in turn. She did not hear me and rushed out again. I drew apart the curtains, made to call to Muriel. In that instant she had one foot in the stirrup and the other raised high up. She, too, did not wear that garment of the greatest intimacy that every lady should. I saw that which no gentleman should see and found myself to be as deeply flushed as Papa was that far-off day.

    I shall pray for them, and in the morning I shall speak to them. I must summon up the courage so to do.

    Alas, I must add a footnote here which follows on a restless night. I spoke to Muriel first. The others seemed evasive, as I thought.

    'As to your attire beneath your clothes', I said. Before I could say more, she tipped her head back and she laughed.

    'Why, have you looked, you naughty man?', she asked, and then flounced out. And I am senior to her by six years!

    I trust they will not stay beyond a week.


    Jane's Day-Book

    Oh-la-la! Phillip has seen dear Muriel's bottom now- as also Rose's and Sylvia's white drawers. I have told her it is too warm to wear such things. She did not mind my saying that and left them off today.

    I meant to write, though, of the girl at the Fortescues'-lest I forget. Oh, such a slender, pretty thing she was. People were kissing, fondling, everywhere, at which she seemed bemused and shy and stood alone, hands at the wall, gazed from one couple to another, and was flushed.

    I drew her quietly out into the morning room by dint of saying it was quieter there. Indeed, we were alone. I closed the door and, once within, embraced her and began to kiss her lips. How moist and smooth and velvety they were!

    'No, do not, oh!', she gasped, for I had pressed her up against the wall and urged my breasts and thighs against her own. She is about twenty, I surmise, and so quivery did her tummy feel that I guessed she had not been mounted yet, which for a girl of that age is extremely rare.

    'How pretty you are, dear', I murmured on and on, her mouth constantly escaping mine but ever then recaptured. Then light flooded in the darkened room. Our host appeared and cast his arms around both, saying that it was truly the most enticing thing to see two women kissing as we were. Thereat he raised both her gown and mine and, to her horror, felt around our knickered cheeks. She uttered a soft shriek-something that Muriel and I had never done when we were much below her age. 'Do not!', she moaned which made me all the more determined that she should.

    'Hold her shoulders!', I instructed him, for in such moments etiquette is flown.

    'No, no-no, don't!', she whined. He had her fast, I falling to my knees and eager for the feast. Soft words of reassurance came from him, though in his lust to see more of her thighs at least, he held one arm across her throat and gripped her chin. I heard her spluttering beneath his lips, hoisted her dress completely and took down her drawers which proved to be of the finest silk.

    'You shame me! Oh, my god!', she cried. Ignoring her, I pinched her thighs to bring them more apart and licked my tongue beneath her well-plumped quim, and tasted nectar.

    'Give me a moment at her slit', I breathed. I held her bottom cheeks apart, for such a hold secures a maiden well. Her rosehole came then to my fingertips. I soothed the tight and wrinkled aperture, at which she jerked and thus allowed my tongue to play the more beneath her cunnylips.

    “I will fuck her in a moment; bring her on', said Norman Fortescue, at which she screeched a louder, wilder cry.

    'How horrid! Oh, please, no-oh, let me go!'

    I licked the more and felt her cunny open like a flower to my intruding tongue. Her bottom wriggled, bumped- her breath hissed out. Her musky saltiness was on my lips. The taste enrages with desire.

    'Come-get her on the floor. You hold her shoulders, I her legs', said Fortescue with all the delicacy of an awoken male. Yet even so I did not mind his words. I had been taken thus myself at first and never had regretted it. Some women like a roughness-some do not. I had not needed to be held, yet much enjoyed to be so, with a hand upon my mouth lest I should squeal and lest Mama should hear. Dark was the dining room that night; a single candle burned-but I must not divert. I wished to make her spurt before he probed her nest, but of a sudden the door opened once again and-of all people-our hostess appeared, her unexpected entry being such that the girl was loosed and sprang away, legs twisting in her knickers as she did.

    'No, Norman, no-it is too soon for Ethel yet', exclaimed his wife, though in a tone of one who bears a mite of news rather than a stern reproach. 'Help me pull her drawers up, Jane. You are really very naughty, both of you.'

    The distraught girl (or so she made to be) cried out, but we restored her modesty, I believing-as I still do- she would have been better to be spermed, for her quim was moist and ready for the manly tool. Her modesty thus veiled again, she rushed out into the drawing room-no doubt to the surprised amusement of the guests, or such as were not fully occupied.

    'Really, Norman, I thought that I had told you', his wife said. Rather sheepishly he made to grab at her, but- being repulsed-made haste to hide his rigid prick which in the heated moments he had fingered out. Thereat, and in the manner of a mournful confidence, Patricia Fortescue explained to me that Ethel was 'reserved', which was to say that she was not to be threaded until the day, a few months hence, when she reached her majority when several cocks that had waited long their chance would spout their pleasure up into her nest.

    'I have never heard of such a thing', I said.

    'Nor I, my dear-it is a family thing. I know not why and do not care so long as she remains intact till then. I gave my word upon the thing'.

    'Why is she here?', I asked. Patricia shrugged.

    To tickle her imagination, I suppose', said she. Norman snorted, said it was a nonsense, then he ambled out, leaving the tingling taste of Ethel on my tongue.

    'At least it is piquant', Patricia said and laughed. I thought it a bizarre event, and wonder if the truth was told-if I were being made a market of, though that I doubt.

    Encountering Ethel in the drawing room, once again, I remarked quickly to her, 'What a dear, sweet thing you are'. She looked astounded. I believe my words had as much impression on her in the aftermath as did the deed. One should always flatter girls, especially the resisting ones. We have always found it to be best. They preen themselves before a minor when one does, are more receptive on the next time round, as the new saying is.- 'She has a divine bottom', I said to Muriel. We always talk about such things.

    Last night we had a long, quiet chat as to Phillip's future and as to Sylvia's. We are decided on a boldness, and I trust it will come off. Oh dear, another brand new phrase-but I am full of them today.


    Sylvia's Day-Book

    I feel so happy that my aunts are here! Mama has written me-says all is well, and that I must go at Christmas, or before. Aunt Muriel kissed me in the stable after lunch.

    'Your pony has a big thing-look!', she said. I did, and it was awfully long. She said a naughty thing to me. I did not hear it really, for she kissed my mouth when speaking and she-well-she felt my titties, said they much had grown. Aunty Jane came in and kissed me, too. They both said I'm a good girl now to leave my knickers off. Aunty Muriel felt my bottom. She asked me if it made me feel nice with my legs astride the saddle, and I told her yes, because it does. It rubs me when I have my skirt up, but I didn't say. They both kissed me again and said my lips are sweet. I tried to count the curls around my thing last night. I counted up to nearly forty, but there are too many now.

    Phillip's Day-Book

    Muriel asked me after dinner whether I am 'moral' in my tales. I answered her abruptly. Sylvia was there.

    'Do not be too much so, Phillip', she replied, and winked at me as a loose woman might.

    'We had best talk about that in my study', I declared, having nothing else to say upon the subject before Sylvia.

    'Yes, we would both like that', said Jane. I thought them serious and so acceded to her wish. They read part of my manuscript, and Muriel had the effrontery to say that it was 'stuffy'. I hated her for that and always will. A childishness in me, perhaps, but I cannot help the quick reactions that my sisters both arouse in me.

    'You would have me write of other things?', I asked as stiffly as I could. One does not accede to women in such things.

    “You should write of passion and of love requited. Never do your couples kiss', said Jane to my profound astonishment. I rose in anger but they bade me sit again, said I was in a huffy mood, the which of course I hastened to deny. At that moment Sylvia entered to say goodnight. She kissed her aunts. I rose and kissed her cheek. I could not fail to notice they had kissed her on the mouth, but could not bring myself to say.

    'You do not kiss her properly on the mouth?', asked Jane.

    'Good heavens, let us have no more of this', I remonstrated. Sylvia had gone to bed. I found myself ensconced with them. Their breasts are always half-bared by their evening gowns. I pointedly avoid not looking there.

    'Uncle Reggie always used to kiss us lovingly upon the lips. You never saw him kiss us lovingly and long upon the lips?', came then from Muriel who was clearly trying to provoke.

    'Frankly your salacity is such that I do not wish to listen, Muriel. Uncle Reggie was a man of pious ways, just as Papa was. Neither would have entertained such, such…' I could not find the word I wished to say.

    'Oh, innocence! Or do you blind yourself, Phillip? Are you a mole beneath the earth of life? Neither was so pious as you think. At least they did not neglect their women, as you do'. And this from Jane who glared at me.

    This interview is at an end', I said, whereat both laughed in scorn at me and made me flush exactly as Papa had done upon the afternoon of which I spoke and of which I still have tightlipped memories.

    'Is it, indeed? I was not aware that interviews took place between close kin. Phillip, you will accompany us tomorrow. We will show you proof. Yes, proof, my dear- and do not sit there like some stupid owl. Oh, do not fear. We shall not say a word to Sylvia-unless you mean to show your stubbornness', said Muriel, and then stood up, and Jane did, too. I feared-yes feared-what they might do. The urge to tell them to leave my house was on my lips. Instead of that I shamelessly was dumb. Often enough such females make one fight for the appropriate words that only come after they have left. Besides, they were clearly bluffing. Uncle Reggie and our parents sadly were no more.

    'You may show me what you will', I said, 'Then I will know your lies for what they are'.

    'Oho, we are come to bitterness, and even about a lovesome thing, are we? We have both thrown the gauntlet down, Phillip. We shall all go into town straight after lunch', Muriel threw at me and then to my relief they both went out and left me trembling in a quiet rage.


    Sylvia's Day-Book

    Sometimes I lie down on my bed with Rose. I do not think she should be a servant, and I told her so. She told me about poor people, though, and how there was no room for her at home. That made me very sad. I wanted to give her money from my purse. She would not take it. Often we cuddle, and sometimes we kiss. I like to feel her mouth. She likes mine, too. We put our skirts up with our legs together, just a little bit. 'It's nice', she says, and wanted to kiss my titties through my dress, and so I let her. Oh, they tingled when she did! I felt so funny that I let her do it more. She undid my dress. I said, 'Oh, Rose!' She said, 'Come on, Miss, it feels nice'. I let her and she sucked my nipples until they were stiff and I felt funny, feint. I have told her she could call me by my Christian name when we're alone. She looked so happy when I told her that. She licked my breasts and said she would be a servant to me all my life.


    CHAPTER THREE

    Phillip's Day-Book

    I was reluctant to accompany them today upon this so-called visit, but they had remarked to Sylvia that we were going out, and hence I could not find excuse to her to change my mind. In any case, I wished to purchase writing paper in the town. The stationery shop there is a favourite haunt, as is the bookshop where the stock is good, though the owner is not what I would term a scholar's man. He entertains some customers sometimes in a room behind the premises. I know not why, unless they too are in the trade. They do not seem to buy books from the shop, though often carry parcels out on re-appearing from behind his private door. It is not my business. One does not enquire.

    “Whence are we going?', I asked Muriel. She replied that I would 'see', and had the carriage stop behind the smaller of the two hotels, for 'that was what we used to do', she said, and made great mystery of that which I felt was intended to arouse a curiosity in me I did not really feel. Then down the High Street was I led and into a small street beside that rejoices in the name of Cobbler's Way.

    At a small house halfway we stopped. The door was grimy and the paint was peeled. I had no desire to go within, but Jane was behind me, Muriel in front. The bell was pulled.

    “What is the purpose of this?', I enquired. Neither replied, and then a woman in an apron let us in. The hall was carpeted but frosty. Cheap prints hung upon the walls. A staircase loomed ahead of us.

    'There's three of you?', the woman asked, presumably to show that she could count.

    'You remember us?', asked Muriel. The woman frowned and cocked her head, then Muriel took her bonnet off and shook her hair down and bent and murmured something in her ear.

    'Oh, Miss, it's you again! Five years it's bin at least, and this is your sister, too. Leastways, and with your pardon, Miss, I always thought you was', she said to Jane.

    'And the gentleman who always came with us? Do you remember him?', asked Muriel. The door was closed. We edged within. I felt my neck flush and was uncomfortable.

    'Oh, I dunno, Miss. Men, they comes and goes. Now, let me think. He had a black beard-did he? — yes, I'm sure he did. Real toff 'e was, just as your gentleman is now', the woman said to my distinct disdain as she looked at me.

    'Do you remember flowers?', asked Jane whose hand uncomfortably pressed at my back.

    'Flowers? Oh gawd, yes, I remembers now! A posy 'e always give me. What a gentleman 'e was! No one ever give me posies, Miss, before or since. I got it now-you always came on Thursdays, didn't you? Bottles of wine you brought, and give me money to buy glasses. Basket on your arm you 'ad. A real nice wicker one, it was. You left it 'ere the last time. I still got it, if you want. Used it a bit, Miss-hoped you wouldn't mind'.

    All this I heard, my mind somewhat a-reel. Thursdays-a basket-I remembered that. It was six years now since Uncle Reggie passed away. He was the youngest of our mother's brothers. Died of cholera, poor chap. We could never understand where he got that.

    'I remember something, too', said Jane. We had moved while speaking into a small front room of incredibly small proportions, and so much cluttered we could scarcely move.

    “What's that, Miss, eh?” The woman looked anxious for a moment, but my sister smiled.

    The wallpaper just behind the bed upstairs had wine thrown on it once. Oh, not by us, as you well know, but I remember that it left a stain. Is it still there?'

    'Yes, Miss, it is. I meant to cover it, I never did. Won't put you out, will it?' A wrinkling of her brow again.

    'It never did. Now, let me see', said Jane with deliberate slowness and glanced at me, then added to the woman, 'Four shillings you charged him for two hours. I think that's right?'

    Two hours, Miss, always. Prompt you were. Well, nearly always. Once or twice it turned out to be almost three. Your gentleman always paid me for that, though. Give me an extra bob or two sometimes as well. You don't meet many like that, Miss. I've know 'em argue for an extra 'alf an hour sometimes. Got bleedin' cheek they 'ave-begging your pardon, sir', she said to me, then added to my horror, 'Two hours now you'll want, for old times sake, Miss?'

    'Not today, but may we peep? Just to revive old memories. Here's half-a-crown for your trouble. We'll be no more than ten minutes, then won't bother you'.

    'No bother, Miss. It's nice to see old customers return. Begging your pardon, I mean guests'.

    'Of course you do', said Muriel and laughed. 'Come, dear', she then said to me in a rather biting tone and we turned about like mussels in the self-same shell.

    I had no wish to ascend the narrow stairs, but Thank you, Miss, for the money', the woman said and closed her door.

    'I have no wish to go up', I then hissed. Jane got again behind me, prodded me. I was distinctly worried they would make a row and let the woman hear.

    'You will, though', Muriel said and bustled up, her bottom large before my face. On the small landing she stopped and pointed to a door. There is a basin in there where we used to wash and tidy up ourselves, Phillip. This is the bedroom here. The other one we never entered into.

    It's the woman's. Come! Remember what I said about the stain?

    She preceded me. I had no choice. Jane had the impudence to punch my back. The door opened and I saw a large, iron bed with brass rails at both ends, brass knobs on top, a mirrored stand and two old chairs were facing it against the further wall. The stain was there upon old, faded paper of quite hideous flowers that twined among a painted trellis of a sort. The floor was black and there were threadbare rugs.

    'The brass knob on the end, it used to rattle. Listen', Muriel said and shook the rail a little bit. The knob tinkled till she took her hand away.

    'I do not wish to know', I said. I had too many bitter thoughts. I pushed past Jane and ascended as quietly as I could. My sisters stayed for a moment I could hear them whispering. Jane giggled-so did Muriel. Then to my utter alarm the woman appeared, wiping her hands upon her apron still.

    'Nice gals they are. You don't wish to stay?', she asked. I felt disdainful of her horrid leer and shook my head.

    They are not girls, but ladies', I replied at last, but forced the words.

    'Didn't mean no imprudeness, sir', she said, when she obviously meant 'impertinence'.

    My sisters then came rustling down. They'd heard what I had said and laughed.

    'He is jealous, Mrs. White', said Muriel, and thereat, in a rage, I strode to the door and went beyond.

    '“Ow nice, 'ow lovely! Still, you'll come back, won't you? You've already paid your first hour', the woman called, but I already striding up the street and was full ashamed that such words should be spoke. Indeed in my anger I hailed a cab and then remembered that our carriage waited, so I turned towards the old hotel, the cabby calling something after me such as I could not lower myself to answer.

    I reached it a full minute before my sisters did, was minded not to wait, but then regretfully decided that I must. They entered at last without a word and sat quite silent as I hoped they would.

    'Oh, you remember, Phillip, well enough', said Jane as the carriage turned into the High Street once again.

    'You will both leave my house tonight', I said and stared away from them and pursed my lips.

    'We never travel by night, my dear', said Muriel and yawned infuriatingly, for I knew it was not real. They knew I had no power to throw them out, for Sylvia would know, or worse-if she did not-they would say that it was my fault and might say-as often had my once-beloved- that I was moody, dull, and quarrelsome. Moreover, in the cunning way of women they had guessed that I remembered certain things. Thursdays had always been their 'visiting day', they'd said, and Uncle Reggie was their so-called chaperone. They took-in the very basket I recalled-both cakes and wine 'for the poor cottagers', and frequently did not return till dusk. Several times Mama had wished to accompany them, but always they said that it would bore her. Yes-the memories came back and were as bitter aloes in my mouth.

    The silence in the carriage was alarming, but I would not break it. For a half an hour we rode, and Muriel sometimes hummed just to infuriate me more. 'You are horrible-are wanton', I wished to shout, but somehow kept my tongue. I sensed the sarcastic answers that I would receive, and that they would not further my cause. I went up to my room and stayed. I heard them laughing downstairs with Sylvia. I fear from hour to hour what they might say to lay a blight upon her innocence.

    Amy Mansfield's Day-Book

    I saw Richard kissing Mama today. She had her skirt up and his hand was on her leg. I shall not speak to them for weeks. I don't like Liverpool so much as I first did. I want to go back home. Mama said no. I would write to Papa and tell him, but I know that I cannot. Mama asked me why I was so quiet. I wouldn't tell her, but she kept on and on until I did not know what to say. It was because of Liverpool, I said. 'No, no, there's something else', she said, and then I blurted out that I saw Richard scratch her leg. I did not know what else to say. 'Oh, I had a gnat bite there, and he came in. He was being silly, Amy, scratching it for me. I pushed him off. Some boys are silly sometimes, don't you know', she said. I told her I was sorry then, but I didn't see her push him off. I didn't say that last bit, though. I'm glad I didn't write to Papa after all. Mama says she writes all our news, but I never see her take a letter to the post.

    Deirdre's Day-Book

    I trust that Amy is not becoming sly. I must confess I felt myself infused with guilt at what she told me yesterday, but then curiously enough my emotions altered. In order to have seen she must have peeped through the crack between the door frame and the door instead-as one might have supposed-of simply walking in the drawing room. I have told Richard he will have no more cuddles (a euphemism for naughtiness that both of us employ). He looked most glum. Amy had witnessed that which she should not have done, I said. It mollified my statement, as I thought, but did not stop him brooding all the day, and I felt glum myself in different ways.

    A diversion occurred, though, yesterday, I having become acquainted with a gentleman of good address who helped me when I slipped upon the cobblestones. Indeed, he saved me from a fall, and then accompanied me to a coffee house, inviting me to drink to calm my shock.

    I find him most simpatico indeed. He shares my own age and is robust in his frame. He had lately read Mr. Carroll's charming work and vaunted his idea of speaking freely for 'cabbages and kings', said the gentleman, meant that all topics should be free. I acquiesced in that, to his delight, while expressing apologies as to any forwardness that I might show in choosing terms that ladies do not use.

    That is precisely what I seek, my dear', he uttered and looked quite enchanted, praised my face and figure, and my dress. 'I confess to you, Madame', he continued in all seriousness, 'that my dear wife and I are what we call Libertarians and have gathered a few like-minded gentlefolk around us to the ends of-may I say it? — pleasure such as prim Society abhors, or I would rather say, pretends to, since so many lack but opportunity. May I invite you to meet my lady? You may discuss such even more freely with her than you can with me'.

    'Oh, I am not a loose woman! Neither, of course, can she be. We shall only talk', said I, though my heart was quite a-flutter at the thought of finding those of my own turns of mind.

    'Let us away then', he uttered to my astonishment, whereupon, despite some gentle protests on my part, I found myself whisked off in a cab to his residence which was not for away. And there I was greeted by the most delightful lady by the name of Eveline.

    'Another convert, my dear', her husband said when introducing us.

    'Oh, as to that, I do not know', I laughed, but such immediacy of friendliness there was that I was soon un-coated, gloves and bonnet off and invited to take sherry with the two.

    Eveline has an hourglass figure despite having two daughters and a son. Her hair is invariably combed up high which leaves her swanlike neck in all its glory to be seen. Her breasts are weighty and her bottom full. Maurice, the husband, had as she said engaged her attention first in Rome the year before. Both their partners being deceased, they took to one another amourously and were soon wed. Maurice has a son and daughter of his own.

    'I gained heaven when I married her', he said, and perched upon the side support of her armchair-he bent her head back and kissed her fully on the mouth. Had Phillip ever done that to me in front of others, oh how pleased I would have been! I have a penchant to be watched sometimes when an amourous mood is on me.

    'A heaven with several mansions, dear', his wife said and then she laughed. I clearly was meant to raise my eyebrows in enquiry, and I did. My third glass of sherry was at hand. I felt emboldened.

    'In what way?', I asked, and felt my question foolish and naive, but evidently it pleased them both. Eveline rose and walked across to me. I somehow knew the manner of that walk and placed my glass down on a table near my chair. She then bent over me and placed a hand beneath my chin. My eyes melted into hers. I saw a twinkle there.

    'Come again tomorrow afternoon and you will see', she said, then asked in a much softer voice, 'May I kiss you to set the seal thereon?'

    I knew that she would kiss my mouth while Maurice watched. He had the hawklike eagerness. To taunt her a little I did not reply, but parted my lips in readiness. O sweet and soft her mouth! Our lips met, tongues touched, I felt her gathering up my dress but swiftly pushed her hand away even as she bared my knees.

    'No! Please, not yet', I said, my face averted. A small silence fell and then she took her hand away, unbent and soothed my dress back down.

    Tomorrow afternoon at three?', she asked.

    I rose unsteadily, and Maurice smiled. 'Kiss her again', he urged. His eyes were bright-not illumined solely, though, by lust, but by a seeming fondness for us both.

    'I shall tomorrow; she knows that', I said, and Eveline clapped her hands and laughed, said, 'Oh, I like you very much! You will come, won't you? Yes, I know you will. Maurice will fetch you in our carriage, if you wish'.

    'No, I shall bring my own', I said. I had no wish to be dependent on them so, however agreeable might their company be. Besides, I then could leave at such hour as I wished.

    Maurice escorted me into the hall. 'She will have your drawers down if you come', he said, but put no lechery into his tone.

    'If I stay long enough for that', I taunted him. The atmosphere was warm and free. I felt no fretful urgings on their part such as I had had sometimes in youth when jovial lusty males made free with me, whether I wanted them to or not.

    'Our carriage will take you home, my dear', said he, and courteously escorted me to it.

    Had Phillip only been thus too, what a wondrous marriage we might have had!


    Richard's Day-Book

    Mama came home yesterday in a most curious mood and would not say where she had been. She hummed and sang, but much avoided me. Amy was spiteful to me all the day and had her nose up in the air. I care not what she thinks in any case. I pleaded with Mama to let me kiss her, but she would not do, and said we should not do it any more. I ruffled her and she got quite fierce and in a paddy.

    'May I not cuddle you tonight', I asked.-'No, you may not, dear Richard, no. There must come an end to naughtiness', she said. I was quite bereft and wished we had a pretty maid whom I could tumble, but the only one we have is dry and plain. I have a plan though for tonight. I only wish to kiss my dear Mama, but she will not believe that that is all I intend. I knelt and kissed her legs.

    'Oh, Richard, please don't press me, dear', she said and went upstairs and locked her door.

    If I carry out my plan, I'm sure she will.


    CHAPTER FOUR

    Muriel's Day-Book

    Poor Phillip-I feel almost guilty that we have so confounded him, but it is time he learned the truth about the world.

    “What is the trouble with Papa?', asked Sylvia, for he would not speak to anyone and took his meal upstairs, which did not please the serving maid at all. He grumbled at her that the food was cold, which it was not.

    I said to Sylvia that men had moods upon them often when they could not get what they wanted.-'What does Papa want?', she asked innocently, but was pleased that we allowed her wine, which Phillip will not let her drink.

    'Oh his winky-wink is not being exercised', laughed Jane. She goes beyond herself sometimes, and Sylvia of course asked what that was.

    'His business thing', I said, which was in part the truth, and Sylvia took on an air of lovely innocence.-'I don't know what that is', she said, and added in quite a grownup manner for her age, 'I think I will go and talk to him'. I believe the wine had gone a little to her head. We did not dissuade her. It could do no harm, and might indeed have brought Phillip back downstairs. She came down looking mournful, though, and said he would not let her sit upon his lap, or not for long, for she had tried.

    “What a bad man he is', said I, though in as light a manner as I could. We retired then to the drawing room, and Jane said she would go and see if Phillip wanted anything.

    'I wouldn't talk to him if I were you', said Sylvia. She had also had a sweet liqueur and was bolder with her tongue than I had known her. This did not displease me, though, for she was even more receptive to a cuddle then. I had her on the sofa in my arms. Jane looked at us and went upstairs.

    'You have a sweetness on your tongue. May I not suck it off?', I asked our niece.

    'It's nice', she said and pouted and was clearly in a frisky mood, a trifle flirtatious even. Some girls are at that age, both with men and women, which I like.

    'Let me share the sweetness, then'. I tickled her and bore her back upon the chaise longue, lifting up her legs so that she reclined full length, I saying that she should be kissed like a Princess and she asking, all a-giggling, when her Prince would come.-'Do not be so much concerned with gender as desire', I said, and asked, 'Now, shall I kiss your upper or your lower mouth?'

    The minx divined what I was at, I'm sure, but pretended innocence and said she had no lower mouth. In a moment I had demonstrated otherwise and plunged my face between her silky thighs, and to such astonishment on her part that she did not resist. O sweet-lipped haven that I found! I burrowed in my tongue; she moaned and flailed her legs; I thrust both back and held them so and licked around and within her furrow all the time until I heard such whimpering noises as one loves to hear. Her bottom bucked. I cupped it on my palms and tickled up her darling spot.

    “What are you, what are you, what are you d… d… d…?', she choked all in one breath.

    'Pleasuring you, my sweet, for the first time. You will remember long this day. Hold your legs back-let me lick it up and down'.

    'Goo-goo!', she gasped, and was clearly coming on to heat. The lips were puffy where my tongue had licked-her little, bursting bud erect.-'I f… f… feel oh funny, aunty! What is happening to me? Aaaah!' And then she sprinkled with a sharp, fine salty rain as my tongue worked the more and brought her on. I heard her moan, hiss in her breath, her knees bent over my shoulders, her heels kicked and then were still, my lips all rimmed with creaminess of her.

    I rose and cast myself upon her then. Her hands clutched at my arms-she gazed in trembling wonder deep into my eyes.

    'You came, my pet, you have expended your first juice of love, and will the more under my tutelage. Now, slip your tongue into my mouth and let me feel it work about my own. There… good!' Her tits had hardened-both her nipples stiff. I worked the buttons loose and slipped my hand within the while our lips were meshed together, warm and moist. She bleated, sobbed into my mouth.

    'Do you want to come again?', I asked. I leaned up and rubbed her sticky fur. Her legs lay straight, quiescently apart. There was adoration in her eyes.

    'It's n… n… naughty, isn't it?', she asked. Her tongue denied that which her lips spoke.

    'Very, darling, that is why it is so nice', I told her, but decided then to tease and simply caressed her stockinged legs and lay beside her and once again, drawing up my own gown as I did so, our bellies pressed their shimmering surfaces together while my nest brushed all around her plump young mount.

    'Papa may come', she murmured wonderingly.

    Then he will see our bottoms, pet, and much besides', I replied to her great wonderment. I eased a finger underneath her cunny lips and made her quiver while I spoke. 'Put your finger in between my legs in the same way. Come, I will teach you love, and so will Jane. Then we will have much more fun, all three of us.' How small her slim form felt! I caressed the pert, tight bottom cheeks that, lying face to face with me, she could not help but proffer to my other hand. 'Now rub', I said. She breathed into my mouth, was all a-daze. I rolled upon her, urged my lovelips to her own and moved my belly suavely over hers, telling her to wrap her legs up round my hips, the which she did and clung beneath.-'So many cocks this little cunt of yours will have', I said. I could not help myself-the words flew loose.

    'Huh? Wha… aaart?', she moaned. I did not think she heard me clear. I had her bottom cheeks again and pried the springy halves apart. Our mouths were liquid fire, tongues lashed. I sucked upon the tip of hers and felt her tummy ripple under mine. Her head hung back; her mouth was open wide.-'Ha! Hooo! Woh-woh!', she sobbed, and then we spent love's juices in a mingling flow that made our cunny lips rub the more together, smooth as silk, all puffy at the rims, filled with delight.

    I sank upon her. Both her legs had slipped, were splayed, heels dug into the couch's red brocade. We trickled, moaned together, and were done. I held her down, my weight upon her own. Then Jane's voice sounded, 'Oh! What have we here?'

    Sylvia cried out. I clamped her mouth beneath my palm. Her eyes bulged and tried to close her legs, but could not for my own were deep between.

    'The little darling! Has she come?', Jane asked. She perched beside us, smacked my naked bottom, fondled it, felt for my bottomhole and tickled round the rim.

    'Twice, dear, and will again'. I eased my palm away. I feared a squeal. Instead, Sylvia stared at both of us, most of her slim form hidden under mine. She bit her lip, blushed red, and turned her face into the wall.

    'You had best take her up', I said. I knew that lantern gleam in Jane's dear eyes, but cautiously drew Sylvia's gown down as I rose, fluffed out my own and drew the flushed girl up, she rising awkwardly and shy.

    'It is nice to be kissed. I always think it is', Jane told her disarmingly, and murmured to her, 'Shall we go upstairs?' Sylvia nodded, was embraced, and leaned her head coltishly into Jane's shoulder. At the door, Jane turned and winked at me and tossed me something which I caught. It was a key. Had she dared what I though she might have done? I let her and Sylvia disappear into Jane's room and then ventured quietly up. As I suspected, Phillip's door was closed. I turned the handle gently. It was locked. I knew that the feet that Jane had given me the key meant that I was to enter.

    On doing so, I found Phillip huddled up on his black couch along the wall beside his desk. He had his back to me and faced the wall, was curled up like a child.

    'What are you at?', I asked as brashly as I could, and closed the door and turned the key again. He did not answer me. I bent and touched him on the shoulder. He appeared to me asleep at first and wished to give that impression, I am sure.

    'Phillip?', I asked again. For a moment I felt a tremor of anxiety, then pressed upon his shoulder to make him turn. He would not do so. 'What?', I asked as foolishly as one does in such silent situations. Bending over him more and placing one knee just behind his hips, I noticed that his trousers were undone and that the knob of his prick was peeping out. Then of a sudden he began to cry in huge sobs like a child. No tears, just sobs. I turned him on his back and sat beside him and said sharply, 'Phillip!'

    'Go away. Oh, my god, go away!', he moaned, but I sensed no real strength in his tone and so, plumping my bottom on the edge of the couch, I forced him over to look up at me, at which he made a feeble move to cover up his Peeping Tom.

    'You naughty boy, what are you at?', I asked. I had no doubt that Jane's hand had preceded mine and that hers indeed had forced open the gap by guile, persuasiveness or coaxing.

    'Mummy cuddle Phillip?', I asked. I know not why such words came to my lips, but they seemed to suit his mournful look and the situation which hung rather upon my acts than any that he might intend.

    I thrust my legs up on to the couch and lay alongside him with my knees to his.

    'Has naughty Jane been teasing you?', I wheedled. A tremendous gasp came from him as I palmed his prick and drew it from its hiding place, then plunged my tongue into his flaccid mouth. He jerked just as a girl does. 'Muriel play with it?', I breathed into his lips.

    'I hate you-hate you both', he moaned.

    'Of course you do, of course you do. Oh my, it's getting big now, isn't it?'

    His cock indeed began to swell. His mouth was open to my tongue. He gurgled, but his arms lay limp. He clearly knew not whether he was in Hell or Paradise.

    'Come on, come on, you naughty boy', I urged. The swollen rod pulsed more within my hand. I moved my fingers lightly up and down its girth and felt the veins all starting up. 'Muriel is going to make it nice', I said. I knew it not at file time, but I had chanced exactly on the words that fitted his dark mood-such inner longings as he has. He choked his sobs the more and worked his mouth to the sensuous encouragement of mine.

    'No, no!', he gurgled as I felt him pulse the more. The night was lost for Phillip, though. I inched my gown up, brought my stockinged knee beneath his balls which I had wheedled out. My tongue worked more deeply in his mouth.-'I c… c… can't', he sobbed.

    'You can-you must. Be a good boy and let it come', I said. Our noses rubbed, his loins were all a-twitch. -'Put your hand up between my legs', I whispered.

    'Oh god, no! How wicked! Stop, I beg you stop-you must!', he groaned, but I-impatient-seized his limp right hand and brought it high beneath my skirt where he could feel my thighs above my stocking tops. 'Oh, sin!', came his weak moan.

    'Feel Muriel's naughty thing, you silly boy', said I. I had seduced a few young boys more easily than I could my older brother-felt amusement and excitement both at once. I made his fingertips brush underneath my furry quim. He felt its stickiness, the parted lips, his face a mask of sensual agony.-'Come, darling-Uncle Reggie always used to come with both of us', I murmured, 'Do it, Phillip- do it in your sister's hand'.

    'Gar-ah!', he choked. He seized my neck and brought my mouth down savagely on his, sobbing the while in long and breathless gasps, and then he spouted in a fine, long arc. I raised my face to see. The long, thick strings of sperm shot in the air and splashed down on my wrist.

    'Oh, my lovely boy! How nice it is to do it, is it not? Think of Uncle Reggie doing it in both our nests', I said.

    'No, no! My god! Ah-OOOH!' He spouted then again- thrice more his jets arced out and then the weakening flood laid more cream on the cuff of my blue dress. I rolled upon him then and pinned him down, feeling his cock a-throb against my bush.

    'There, there, good Phillip-what a lovely lot you did! Now you go sleepy-byes, my pet, and Muriel will do it to you in the morning, if you're good'.

    'We are in sin!', he moaned.

    My patience almost broke at that. I worked myself up from him, tickled his thick, sticky worm, then wiped my wrist upon his trouser leg and slipped without, leaving the key this time within the lock. Going to my room, I removed my dress, chemise and shoes, tightened my stockings and took myself on tiptoe to Jane's room. As I expected, the two lay naked in the bed.

    'Is she not lovely? I have made her come again', said Jane. The two lay breasts to breasts. Sylvia quivered in her grasp and closed her eyes. I climbed in on the other side of our dear niece and sandwiched her between us.

    'Put the tip of your finger in her bottomhole. She needs it there', said Jane.

    'I d… d… don't!', squealed Sylvia. Her rose was moist between her tight, pert cheeks. I rubbed my finger round the crinkled orifice.

    'You are going to learn to have to have it there', said I. Jane lifted up Sylvia's upper leg and brought it over her own hip. I urged my finger in a little bit and felt her squeeze on it protectively. Jane fingered Sylvia's oily honeypot. The dear child whimpered, came again-then I knelt over her and made her lick my cunny which she did quiescently until I sprinkled her with dew.


    Deirdre's Day-Book

    Richard pumped me last night, all against my will-O wicked boy. He hid beneath my dressing table where the covers drape! I did not see nor hear him and undressed, believing him to be abed. Naked I was when he sprang out unclothed, and I with my back to him and seeking out my nightdress from beneath my pillows. I screeched in my surprise, and surely Amy must have heard.-'No, Richard, no!', I pleaded softly, fearing she would come. He had me tumbled down upon the bed, my bottom up against his throbbing tool.

    'Be quiet, Mama, I beg you-let me put it in', he choked.

    How long we wrestled, fought, I do not know, I weakening all the time to feel his cock all rigid up against my flesh. I cried. He kissed my tears away, forced me upon my back and lay upon my belly, pleading on and on till I succumbed, O shamefully succumbed, and let the knob slip up between my lips. One urging thrust and it was in. My feet hung down upon the floor, I breathing broken sobs into his mouth.

    Slowly he did it to me-long, slow strokes while I exerted suction on his prick, moaning my little moans of pleasure that I did not wish to feel. He sucked my nipples, spread my legs more, coaxed me on with devilish whispers of desire until I clasped him, fell headlong into the spell of it, working my bottom to his eager thrusts.

    'Don't come too soon', I murmured all despite myself. Oh that my tongue should run away with me! We are possessed who cannot help ourselves. He pressed his cheek against my own, panted and worked his loins more slowly back and forth, holding his spermatic impulse back as best he could.

    'You wanted me to do it to you, did you not', he husked into my ear. His balls slapped at my bottom as he jerked- slap-smack of flesh, the creaking of the bed. I answered him by raising up my legs and wound them tight about his waist. Our breathing sounded coarsely. Thrice I wet his balls. I would not speak, though, any more, would not. I was both witness and participant-lay under him and yet gazed at the same time down at both of us, the twitching of his buttocks, the slow gliding of his cock, his balls that gently slapped against my bottom's cleft. I looked amazed at what I saw-knew myself to be cloaked both in sin and at the same time in the freedom of delight. One wrestles endlessly with both, yet reaches out a weak hand to the latter all the time.

    'Coming!', I heard him choke and squeezed the tighter on his pulsing tool.

    How simple are the acts of love, yet how we clothe them in complexity by thinking all about and here and there as to what we should do and should not!

    I would soon as listen to the 'shoulds' as to the 'nots'.

    It is Phillip, and others such as he, who crucify themselves upon the negative. Perhaps in sin I seek revenge for the hurts to my over-eager soul that I endured in a dry marriage bed.

    At least my cunny was plump with sperm last night. Ah, should I weep therefor? I do not know.


    CHAPTER FIVE

    Phillip's Day-Book

    Wretched was the day around me when I woke and heard the early chattering of voices down below. Such dreams of sin I had as should not come to any man who seeks to dust his soul with piety. I would remain here in my room forever, locked away from such temptations as beset me now, but I cannot. The innocence of Sylvia calls. I am her guardian angel-the lone one who can protect her now.

    I dreamed of Uncle Reggie, too-that tawdry bedroom in that mean, small house.

    'Do not imagine that you can see into the hearts and minds of those whom you hold dear, for you cannot', I recall that he once said to me.

    His words are iron flakes upon my tongue, and should have been on his. There are stains upon my trousers; I will never get them off. I have hidden them away, tight-folded up, will never wear them any more. I shall keep cakes and biscuits in my desk that I may not have to go down too often. Alas, though, for the accidents, the incidents, of daily life. No sooner had I vowed this than Sylvia came running up, and I in my study lurking. Or, at least, I felt I lurked.

    'Papa, you are late for breakfast. Shall you not come down?', she asked. I sat upon the couch that I now call 'Despair', and winsomely she sat upon my lap and coiled her sweet arms round me lovingly, the lower part of her person plump and pressing down where now both of my sinful sisters have exposed me to their view.

    'In a moment I shall come down', I said, and felt discomforted, at a complete loss. She wriggles much when talking thus, does Sylvia. To my horror I felt a stirring underneath her lower part-a stirring on my part, I mean, for which I blamed both Muriel and Jane.

    “Yes, do, Papa. The kidneys and the bacon are delicious-really nice. Oh, your beard is rough', she laughed and took her cheek from mine.

    'My pet, I have not shaved as yet. I shall-that is to say-I shall-'

    I had risen with her and was conscious, hideously, of an erection in my private parts the which I prayed devoutly that she would not see, though in her innocence, as I told myself, she could not know the nature of it. Indeed, I thought her eyes dropped for a moment, then she looked away. Her lips were slightly parted. How demure she looks in such a winsome pose! Such fresh young lips, such pearly teeth. I pray they retain their purity.

    'Aunt Muriel says she will purchase me a new dress today, Papa, and a new bonnet, too. She said that you will buy me stockings, if she does. Will you? I know not whether to have white or pink or blue, or even black. Aunt Jane says that darker colours are the more becoming', Sylvia chattered, leading me downstairs although I did not really wish to go.

    My sisters both awaited me. I feared they would. No sooner had we entered the dining room than both sprang up and kissed me, to the great delight of Sylvia and yet to my confusion, for both called me 'dear' and insisted on my sitting down before they did. Jane unrolled my napkin and insisted on laying it across my lap, her fingers passing as she did across the slight protuberance I had.

    'Oho, what have we here!', she laughed.

    Sylvia looked up from sipping tea and wondered at Jane's words. As for myself I flushed. Jane's fingers lingered, though being beneath the tablecloth could not be seen. Rose entered then with a tureen which she placed down as usual on the sideboard. As she did, Jane deliberately swept the napkin to the floor and quickly sat.

    'Oh, Rose, dear, will you pick up the Master's napkin?', she asked.

    It had fallen forward underneath the table's edge. I blurted out that I would pick it up, but the wretched maid insisted on doing it and sprang forward like a young gazelle. I made to grab it from her fingers, but then stayed myself. To do so in front of Sylvia would have looked absurd, for I have always insisted that the maid do such. Alas, to my supreme honor Rose's hand encountered that which Jane had left more stiff. She had the grace to blush- at her young age she would-and said 'Oh, sir!' and rushed from out the room.

    “What is to do?', asked Sylvia and then called, 'Rose!', and ran out after her, not asking me if she might leave the table as she ordinarily does.

    'My god, what have you done-on top of all?', I asked of Muriel and Jane.

    I had not meant to speak to them, but knew I must find voice at this.

    The male displays himself, my dear. It is very proper so to do in his own abode where surely he is king?', said Jane. I seared her with my eyes; she did not blink. Outside the door were whisperings.

    'For god's sake fetch Sylvia back', said I, unable to get up myself in my ill-wished condition and fretful as to what things might be said by Rose whom I determined to dismiss.

    'If you so wish, sir', Muriel said sarcastically, but ambled slowly out, opened the door and left it just ajar, and I forced to listen to the whisperings.

    “You may both have to', I heard Muriel say. There was a squeak from Sylvia then. Unable to restrain myself, I bellowed out her name and she ran in.

    'Finish your meal. Do not get up again until I tell you to', I said, though scolded myself for the severity of my tone which brought a glint of tears into her eyes.

    “You would do better to kiss her more often than to scold her, Phillip', Muriel said.

    'Be quiet!', I said, but mollified my tone, the which astounded me. I felt uneasy and could scarcely eat. The ghost of Uncle Reggie smiled at me again.

    'When your Papa was naughty', said Muriel across the table to Sylvia, 'Mama used to lock him in a cupboard until he atoned for his sins. Shall we lock him in a cupboard now?'

    'Muriel, do not be ridiculous', I said. I made to push my chair back, which was fatal, for the pair rose up and seized my arms. Sylvia bit her lip and stared at us, but clearly thought it a game and smiled. Thus was I slyly placed once more in a situation I could not escape without venturing into violence, for they held my arms quite tight and pulled me up. Dear Sylvia knew not whether to smile or to look serious, but in the end her aunts' smiles won, as I feared they would.

    'Naughty, naughty Phillip-come', said Jane and tugged on me and Muriel did so, too, I haplessly repeating my original words.

    'Open the cupboard, Sylvia-oh, what a lovely game to start the day!', was said.

    'No, Sylvia', I wished to say, but that would have dismayed her more. I forced a smile-a mirth I did not feel. Seeing me grimace so, Sylvia laughed in turn and opened up the corner cupboard from which shelves had been long removed. I had meant to have the cupboard, too, removed, and thought it an encumbrance in the room. In a moment I was turned and pushed inside. The cupboard, having double doors and being narrow, I was pressed between the sides, facing to the right. The door closed. There was darkness.

    'You may atone by kissing Sylvia instead of scolding her. A proper kiss though, mind', called Muriel and therewith one door opened and with a squeal Sylvia was thrust against me, and the darkness came again.

    'Oh, Papa, they are being silly. Really, though, I do not mind', said Sylvia whose lissome form was pressed too closely against mine. Indeed, she could not help but feel the eruption in my trousers to her belly pressed.

    'Open the doors!', I called, thereby unwittingly dismaying Sylvia who was convinced I did not wish to kiss her.

    'No! We are leaning to it', Jane called back, and indeed I felt their backs thump at the doors while Sylvia's legs quivered to mine, her forehead down against my chest as though dismayed by my refusal to 'obey'.

    “You may kiss me if you want, Papa', she murmured and then raised her face. I felt the motion for I could not see. Her nose brushed underneath my chin. The honeysuckle of her breath came up to mine.

    'Properly, Phillip! No pecks on the cheek', called Muriel.

    'It is silly, but honestly I do not mind, Papa', whispered Sylvia. Her tummy could not help but press against that which it found below. The cupboard, being airless, both my hands were moist. I knew not where to put them, yet could scarcely move my arms in any case. I inclined my head. Our noses touched and faces blindly sought when they should not have done. O honey-sweet her lips, and moist! Boldly she merged them into mine. I held my breath. They lingered, slipped away.

    “Well-has he kissed you yet?', called Jane.

    'I have indeed-now let us out', I said, wherewith light shone upon us full and Sylvia fell sideways into Muriel's arms, clearly not knowing whether to stay or run away.-'She wishes to go into the garden', I said, effecting as I thought was her release. Indeed, dear Sylvia gave me a thankful glance and ran. They did not impede her. Both looked down at my unwanted display of that which they think of as manliness.

    'She brought you up the more', said Jane, and with the effrontery of that remark both turned and hurried out, most craftily calling after Sylvia to wait for them.

    Thus am I harried, made a joke of-worse, indeed.

    For an hour or so after this ridiculous event that was no doubt meant to shame me in some way, I encountered Sylvia coming up the stairs. She was flushed and looked excited, so I thought.

    'You do not have to kiss me, Papa, if you do not want', she said, and then ran in her room and locked her door.

    I wished to call out that I did, in my paternalistic way, but knew that in that utterance I would be trapped by Muriel and Jane again who I was sure had put her up to say that very thing just to confuse. I am caught between she-devils and pure innocence.

    Would that my once-beloved were here! I know that she would handle this. It needs another woman to outwit the pair. I cannot dismiss Rose, either, for I have no reason to offer up to Sylvia save one that would be impossible to express. Without much thought at first, but in some recompense to Sylvia, I took a ten-pound note from my wallet and slipped it underneath her door.

    That is for your clothes', I called.

    There was a moment's silence, then I heard it rustle as she picked it up.

    Thank you, Papa', she called. Her tone was cool. I thought it so, but possibly my nerves were bad.

    I will not have Muriel or Jane buy her anything. At least I have that one small victory, though on reflection it may not be so small, for Sylvia will know who guards her best.


    Amy's Day-Book

    I know they were doing something last night. I heard noises in Mama's room, and I heard Richard groan, as well. He had not been to bed-I peeped into his room. I thought I heard him say 'Coming', but that makes no sense. Perhaps he said 'Mummy', for he sometimes does, so childishly, instead of just 'Mama', which is more proper for his age.

    Mama wore a lacy peignoir at breakfast. I could see her breasts, and so could he. I thought it very rude. She had pink garters on. They also showed. Her thighs are so much plumper than my own. I'm glad my own are not. I read my prayers this morning in my room. I wish that I had stayed with dear Papa.


    CHAPTER SIX

    Deirdre's Day-Book

    A most unexpected afternoon at the home of Maurice and Eveline. Or at least, one frequently thinks such, yet upon reflection has no idea of what one's expectations were.

    Eveline and I were alone for the first hour and discoursed much-and very warmly-on the philosophy of love. Such she at least calls it; I have no name for it save pleasure even though at times my conscience strikes me. Her elder daughter, Maude, joined us. She is a striking image of her mother and is twenty now. I expected, upon her appearance, for the conversation to turn and change. Maude gave all appearance, after all, of being quiet and prim, and I had no wish to tantalise the girl with what I thought she did not as yet have herself. Upon her entering, I remarked at hazard (and quite ludicrously) how small the bathroom of our new house is.

    'Oh, baths-they should be large', said Eveline, divorcing the receptacle from the room, as it were, though not perhaps deliberately, and then she inclined her face to Maude and gave her an expectant look as might one actress to another who has lost her cue.

    'Step-Papa told us that in Japan ladies and gentlemen bathe together', Maude said, and looked as pleased as a schoolgirl who has parsed a sentence correctly.

    'Which we now sometimes do', added Eveline while I gazed at the pair askance and asked how that was possible. I meant in terms of the physical-of space-and perhaps should have added 'moral', but to do so with Eveline would have been absurd.-'A remarkable invention of my husband's; come and see', I was invited, whereupon the three of us went up.

    On the first landing was a bathroom at the end of a long corridor. As we approached it, the door opened and there were clouds of steam through which a maid appeared in the manner of a vision at a pantomime. Her cap was floppy and her face was flushed.

    'We shall bathe now, Mary', said Eveline.

    'Yes, ma'am-and shall I help you to undress'.

    'Tomorrow, Mary-not today. She has her fingers everywhere, the naughty girl, especially with Maude', added Eveline sotto voce as the maid swept on, whereat we entered and the door was closed.

    Ah, such a bathroom-such a bath! Maurice, it seemed, had had the sides removed from two quite large ones and then had the pair fastened together in some wise so that they formed a huge receptacle.

    'It is a communal bath, my dear', said Eveline through the warm, pervasive steam, deliciously scented as it was. She and Maude then began to undress, I being invited to follow and to cast my clothes into one of four large baskets as they did. I apprehended from the number of baskets that the same number often shared the luxurious bathroom with its marble tiles, its lamps and chairs-a large chaise-longue pressed to one wall.

    'There has been fun on that', Eveline said of the last-named when I cast my eyes along its length and breadth.

    I did not hesitate to disrobe, wishing as I did to see both Eveline and Maude. Both had dark muffs and long and shapely legs. Maude's bottom was a rapture of firm flesh, as was her mother's. Maude's breasts were smallish-pumpkin firm-her mother's large, as are my own. We explored with seeking eyes each other's forms, our gazes lingering in between each other's legs. Or rather, Maude's and Eveline's to mine, and I to theirs.

    'It is quite fun to do it in the bath', said Eveline at which Maude uttered, 'Oh, Mama!', and received a firm smack on her bottom cheeks.-'Get into the bath, my girl, and hold your back to us', she was told, whereat pouting she obeyed and sat there like an odalisque, tits half submerged beneath the water and her back against the side.

    Eveline then approached me slowly and brought her nipples against mine.

    Two grown women-let me have your tongue the while I feel your lovely quim', she whispered, gliding her fingers underneath between my legs.

    I was startled that Maude should be there, even though she could not see, and said without thought, 'Don't!', but said it softly to her mouth which brushed from side to side across my own, her hand fondling round my bottom cheeks.

    'Mama, what are you doing? I don't want to have a bath', murmured Maude in something of a whining tone.

    Whatever I am doing, my dear, is not for you to be conscious of. Stay as you are and where you are. Now, Deirdre, open your legs a little more', came her imploring whisper. I shook my head, yet feebly, for my cheek was then against her own. Her fingertip had furrowed up between my lovelips and had found my spot. My knees began to bend; I could not help myself, but even so I murmured weakly, 'Don't!' again. I was caught between two hands that knew their skills.

    'How quite adorable that you can still sound like an untried girl', said Eveline-and this for Maude to hear, which made me blush and tremble. I could hear myself breathing-always for me an amourously fateful sign. I wished to fondle her furred slit in turn, but was conscious of Maude's presence, though she was at least eight feet from us and showing us her back still, fingers paddling in the water as she sat.

    My nipples stiffened, as did Eveline's, and memories of my wild youth filtered back.

    'I would adore to watch you being fucked. Say that I may', said Eveline, her long tongue flicking in my mouth, and I on the point of my orgasmic bliss.

    'N… not with Maude there', I whispered back, and received her husky laugh into my mouth.

    'In the bathroom-even as in bed-even upon the sofa in the drawing room-one does as one is told, requested, sought to do'.

    'No… n… no, Eveline, stop it, do! Haar!' All too soon I sprinkled on her busy hand and felt a fingertip within my nether rose at the same time. Thereat, too, came a sound. The door opened and Maurice was there! I swayed, my legs apart and weak. Four steps and he was upon us, and I thereupon exchanged from Eveline's arms to his, sagging against him in my amourous spillings while his lips took mine and he continued taking toll of that which his wife had so skillfully aroused.

    I heard myself moaning 'No!' The sound was only in my mind. I heard a splash, and Maude jumped out. Maurice seemed oblivious to her presence as I, caught in a tide of passion, slumped to him and felt his penis vibrant up against my thigh.

    'I hate you all!', I heard Maude say. Her mother evidently smacked her, for I heard that sound and then a squeal. I kept my eyes closed, lips a-swim. In a moment she had taken up her clothes, or part of them at least, and rushed without. There came the maid's voice saying, 'Miss, oh Miss, you're wet! I'll fetch a towel, Miss. Go into your room'.

    I was sinking, I was lost. A rug received me and I lay, entirely helpless to resist as Maurice came upon me, trousers down, his huge prick burrowing within my oily nest while Eveline lay down beside the pair of us.

    'What a fine woman, is she not, my love? Come, Deirdre dear, lift up your legs. Let him get in you to his balls, my sweet. Ah, there-he's in-right in-O lovely sight! No-keep your legs up, silly-yes, that's right'.

    'Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god', I sobbed. My bottom bumped and squirmed upon the rug. The ceiling danced. Their lips were everywhere, he sucking my nipples, she upon my mouth, and I dissolving in a warm, lewd bliss as his deep-seeking piston worked its will of me.

    And then unconscionably I began to cry-long-racking sobs that no doubt he mistook for passion's song. Eveline did not, I am sure of that, but continued nurturing my tongue with hers while Maurice quivered and ploughed on. I felt his pulsings huge, then with a groan he expended his thick jets of sperm in me and lay a-tremble on my vibrant form while tears cascaded down my cheeks and I lay like a stricken doe beneath his weight.

    'It has been a long time for you, has it not?', he asked gently. His mouth replaced his wife's upon my own, and then he withdrew his steaming rod and rose to draw his trousers up.-'What a splendid fuck she is', he said and out he strode. Eveline hugged me for a moment and then helped me up.

    'My dear', she said with deep concern and led me naked as we were along the landing to a bedroom which from its ornate furnishings, its mirrors and its lovely drapes I knew must be the one they shared. There I permitted her to pull me down upon the bed. She kissed my tears away and smoothed my hair.-'Was it so nice for you, or has it really been so long since you were threaded, Deirdre?', she asked gently, rolling her fleshy breasts to mine.

    'I have sinned', I said, and sounded mournful at the least. I do not recall ever having said those words before. They are inimical to my nature, anyway. Were someone of a sensitive nature to read these words, they might well guess my state of mind. In having Maurice so suddenly upon me, and though I had much enjoyed his lusty cock, I had thought of Richard and had experienced once more the sense of true excitement blended into guilt.

    'You have sinned? Have we then misunderstood you, dear? I did not mind at all, you silly thing. We do not fret at pleasure here, and nor must you'.

    Her tongue was sweet, her eyes conveyed to mine a genuine desire to have me more amourously responsive than I was. And indeed now that we were alone again, belly to belly, thighs to thighs, I felt renewed stirrings in me, sought a curious protection in her arms and palmed her weighty bottom, felt it roll luxuriously and received her throaty chuckle in my mouth.

    'Ah, now you are better, dear', she said, 'What was your upset? Was it because of Maude? I permit her certain things, I know. Perhaps I was too hasty. Was it that?'

    'No, no, it was not quite, but evidently she dislikes me from the things she said'.

    'Oh pouf! That was a tantrum only. You will soon see her in a different mood. Something else ails you, Deirdre, and I know it does. Confess to Eveline and you will feel the better for it. In my youth I cried sometimes', she added pensively, for frequently when seeking to know another's thoughts one wishes to express one's own, as if to say 'That happened to me, too!'

    'I cannot tell you, Eveline'.

    'Of course you can. It is something very naughty, is it not? Shall I tell you all the wicked things that I have done? Why, I could fill a book, my dear-and even Maude and the other girls have several chapters they could write. Are we not all cast in the same old mould? We Libertarians confess ourselves and feel the better for it. Maurice is the cockerel, my pet, and we the hens', she said and tickled me beneath my arms to bring my spirits back, which she succeeded in, for then I laughed and kissed her hugely, rubbed my bush to hers and savoured all the sensuousness of her full form.

    I had done it with Richard, I said, amid a kiss, and said it hurriedly, excusingly. It burst out like a bubble from my mouth.

    'Your son? Oho!', she laughed and rolled upon me, legs between my own. 'Your eyes are deep and lovely- do you know?', she asked playfully and rubbed her nose to mine, soothing her lovelips up against my own to afford me a swimmy sensation I could not resist.

    'More than once', I said, and knew it for a sort of boast.

    'If once were ever enough, Deirdre, we all would be half virgins, would we not? Is that your awful, secret sin? I have a score to match it, anyway. Does he do it to you nicely? Is he slow or quick? You have to tutor them, you know'.

    'Oh, Eveline, really-stop it! Do you not really, really think it the most awful thing?'

    'You are seeking reassurance, and you know it well, you minx. Are you not?', she asked me softly. Her lips slowly brushed my own, back-forth-back-forth-a quite delicious way to kiss.

    'I suppose-but on the other hand', I mumbled.

    'You can have it in either hand, dear', Eveline laughed, 'Come on, I'll make you come again, and then you'll change your mind on it. He must be good if Maurice made you think of it'.

    'No, no, it wasn't that. Oh, Eveline, don't!'

    Too late, too late. The bedsprings sang. We breathed into each other's mouth.

    'You are a good fuck, darling, do not be ashamed of it. Cock has no conscience, neither have our quims', she mouthed. Then the sweet spillings overtook us once again. The lips of our cunnies splurged and kissed. Our bushes were sticky in a trice. The milk of love. How irresistible it is!

    After we had long lain, kissed anew, she fetched our clothes, and asked, 'Do you feel better now that you have told me that?' Before I could reply-and really I did not know my own mind still-she went on, 'Darling, you must bring him here. One afternoon perhaps'.

    'No, that would not be possible', I said, and wished devoutly I had not confessed.

    'All things are possible, my love. We Libertarians do not put up bars against ourselves. Against outsiders often, yes, but not against ourselves. I count you one of us. Speak only here of love, desire. We hedonists must stick together, must we not?'

    'You are incorrigible, Eveline!', I could not help but laugh.

    'I always was. So, I suspect, were you. You only wish to have your sins confirmed. I know that feeling well enough. She who gives way to love gives way to life. Do not be broody. Take things as they come. There-what a splendid smile! You must come on Friday and meet Claudia'.

    'And who is she?'

    'A young actress-or would-be one. Her husband- a very likeable young rogue-wishes to see her being threaded. She will not, and does not know whether to play Miss Prim or Miss Improper. We shall see'.

    'Eveline-you will not force her, surely?'

    'Were you never forced, my dear? A little were you not? Never have your legs kicked? Were you not held down until the surging pleasure took you?' She looked straight into my eyes. Her nipples were still hard beneath her gown, as were my own. I imagined her for a moment biking thus in front of Phillip and could not prevent a smile.

    'When one is young…', I said. My words fell limp.

    'Claudia is twenty-three, my love. She flirts with the idea, though never would confess it. Some men call such women “cock-teasers”. We shall have rare sport-I can tell you that'.

    I murmured something, but I know not what. I am being drawn into a whirlpool now. I know not whether to go on Friday or not. I may see myself in Claudia. Perhaps that's what I fear.


    CHAPTER SEVEN

    Sylvia's Day-Book

    Papa is acting very strangely. Perhaps it is because he misses Mama, but I am not sure of that. He never mentions her to me, though asked a little dolefully whether I would go to Liverpool at Christmas. Such a problem that is for me! I do not think he likes my Aunties very much, but I do. Perhaps I shouldn't. They are very naughty with me sometimes, and especially in bed, but now that I am older I can be naughty, Aunty Muriel says. She told me that most ladies are, but they do not always show it to the world. One cannot always tell-that is the fun of it, she says. When they rub their things to mine, it feels so nice. I should not write that down, perhaps. I am sure Mama was never naughty, though.

    Rose told me a most awful, naughty thing. She says that when she put Papa's napkin across his lap, she felt his thing and it was stiff! I did not tell her that he kissed me in the cupboard and that I felt it, too. Besides, it was probably only a big key. Aunty Jane asked me if he felt my bottom in the dark. I said, 'Oh no, of course not', but I don't remember now. It was too quick. I did not mind him kissing me. I used to sit upon his lap, but now he doesn't seem to like me doing that. I put black stockings on last night. I have new garters, too, and they are pink.

    Aunt Jane said something rude about my pony. I never thought before of looking there. It is a very big one, though, and gets all leathery sometimes. 'It is Nature, do not be afraid of it', they said. The saddle rubs me in-between my legs and makes me feel all hot sometimes. Aunty Muriel says that is good for me and that I should keep my bottom moving back and forth like when she puts her tongue there underneath. Rose was in bed with them last night. I listened and I heard her moans. I am glad that she is naughty, just like me. I do not feel so bad about it now.


    Phillip's Day-Book

    There is no escape for me in my own house. Perhaps there never was-perhaps I am a prisoner in myself. There is both mockery and affection here which tosses me this way and that. I am pursued, entrapped, and know not where to turn, and spend much time upon my study couch in dismal thought while laughter sounds beyond, bites at my mind and makes me feel more churlish than I know myself to be. My writing has ceased. Even to me my manuscript appears more wooden that I thought it once to be. I read it no longer through my own, discerning eyes, but horridly through those of Muriel and Jane who tempt me frequently to write that which I will not do.

    “Women have limbs, my dear, have lips. Portray them as they are and not as dummies such as may be seen in a dressmaker's window', I am told.

    I loathe myself that I argue with them on this score, but silence cannot always be maintained. They have their tricks of making me reply by questions that appear at the first speaking innocent, and yet in truth are quite insidious.

    'Can you not describe a woman's lips?', asked Jane. At first I would not reply, but upon her asking me again I replied in irritation that of course I could. Such is the writer's art, I said.

    'Indeed? Describe mine, then, or Muriel's-or Sylvia's even. All lustrous, velvety and warm-a touch of honeyed moisture here and there. You see-I have no art with words such as you claim to have, yet I can say such as you do not write. As to a woman's thighs…'

    'Please stop! I will not write of immoralities', I said as bleakly as I could.

    The hour was late. She wore a peignoir. Through its folds-its misty folds, if she would have it so-I discerned that she wore little else save for her stockings and a pink chemise. With each movement of her legs I saw that which a gentleman should never see-that blur of sinful dark between her thighs. Her bosom, too, was almost visible.

    'You are in purdah, Phillip. Some females should be, but males should not'.

    So speaking, she moved round behind my back, for upon her entrance I had got up from the couch and taken a plain chair. In the moment that she became all but invisible, something dropped down about my face and wound itself about my neck, half throttling me. It was the silk cord from her peignoir. Frantically I strove to free it from my neck, begging her to cease this foolish game. My fingers tried to hook behind it, but could not.

    'For heaven's sake, I cannot breathe', I gasped. The chair being hollow at the back, she pressed her knee through into me. At the same moment, Muriel entered, closed the door and advanced upon me. She, too, wore a peignoir and, beneath, had nothing on save for her gartered stockings and a pair of buttoned boots that reached up to her knees. My eyes bulged at the wicked sight of her. Once more I tried to claw the cord away. The pressure of Jane's knee was fearful in my back, and Muriel held a long cord in her hand.

    In a flash, I was their prisoner, for Muriel swiftly knelt and tied my legs against those of the chair. O perfidy, O wretchedness! She knew too well I could not kick a woman thus, nor even beat her with my hands, much as I wished to. Vainly I strove, not using violence such as they, but all in vain. Jane twisted the cord with one hand and with her other seized my hair-I strangulated, gasping, helpless in their hands.

    No, no-I will not write of this-a deed so terrible, so lewd. May the heavens fall upon them for their wickedness. I was left weak and stunned by that foul act that brought me to a pitch of miserable submission to their wills. My hands tremble even now to think of it.


    Jane's Day-Book

    What a splendid penis Phillip has! The dear, poor idiot, he tried to hide his pleasure at the last, but could not, fell to sobbing like a boy while Muriel drew on his reservoirs and sucked his sperm with her naughty quim. Had she so not exhausted him, I would have taken my toll, too. The chair bumped, though. I feared that Sylvia would wake. Besides, the floorboards creak too much in Phillip's study. We must not do it there again.

    How wildly did he shake his head (or try to!) when Muriel cast her peignoir off and opened up his trouser buttons, nurturing his tool until it stood up stiff and ready for the game, the knob all purplish and sleek and swollen such as a healthy, eager female loves to see. The faint blue veins stood proud around the stem.

    'And now, my love…', said Muriel. His legs being together, she was able to straddle him while standing up still and let her titties swing across his face, reaching beneath to fondle and position his stiff tool beneath the rolled lips underneath her bush.

    Ah, how he gurgled, whined and whimpered when she did! Not hurrying, she then caressed his balls which were slightly squashed and so appealingly looked even bigger than they are, the skin as equally polished in that posture as his knob.

    'In a moment, in a moment Phillip', Muriel said, as though he too were eager for the fray. So clever she can be sometimes in saying such-the gentle voice, the luring touch. 'Twas she in truth who first seduced dear Uncle Reggie and then took me upon the bed with them.

    'No!', Phillip managed to moan when at the last the pinky-purplish lips of Muriel's love-slit swallowed up his knob. Her eyes half closed, knees trembled, at that naughty and exquisite contact. Still she took her time, though, and sank very slowly down until his prick was sheathed and her bottom settled on his knees.

    'Oh, it is nice!', she murmured. I could feel her head and loins a-swim as mine would have then been, and knew exactly how her cunny squeezed upon his embedded penis.

    I had loosened the cord by then around his neck and laid my hands upon his shoulders, bent and kissed my sister on the lips. Our tongues toyed. Both her arms enfolded him and thus could hold his pinned.

    'My god, my god!', he moaned-the foolish man who thus was led into such a Paradise!

    'Give me a good fuck, Phillip, for you know you want to', Muriel breathed. Her hips worked gently up and down. I saw-just saw-his cock emerge and then sink up again into the clinging enclosure of her folds, his foolish face strained far away from hers.

    'Do not hold him any longer, Jane. I will pump him; I will make him come', she said. Her voice was strong. She meant to milk him deeply, and she did. So hapless was he, though, and so excited (though he would deny that to the last, I'm sure) that he came too soon for her- before she even came herself.-'Oh, you fool, you fool!', she sobbed at him. I knew from his expression and the squeezing of her eyes that his thick jets were flooding her too soon.-'We shall have to teach him better, Jane', she said, but stayed upon him, wriggling her plump bottom all the time upon his knees, and he a-moaning like a long-lost child until at last it slipped out limp and wan, and dribbling at the nose, as Uncle Reggie used to say.

    'You will sleep better now for that', said I to Phillip who did not seem to know or care that I untied his legs. He looked just like a mannikin whose strings have all been cut.

    'You beasts-O filthy beasts', he moaned as we two left. Muriel says that he will have to pay for that remark. I cannot blame her. He must be somehow set upon the path of true voluptuousness!


    Deirdre's Day-Book

    I lock my bedroom door now when I leave. Richard must not get in and hide again. I am determined to rescue myself from my perversity, in his respect at least, no matter what dear Eveline might coo.

    But what a rich occasion Friday was! I know not the truth of all that happened, which itself excites. I had expected Claudia to be a rather brittle, hard young thing. Instead I found her small and slim and quiet-indeed, I read anxiety in her eyes. Her dress was a pretty blue, speckled with white as was the broad-brimmed hat she wore upon arrival. Long, white lace gloves adorned her arms up to her elbows and, this being afternoon, she naturally kept them on, which made her look adorable.

    As to her form, she is superbly sculpted round her nether parts which are accentuated by her long, slim legs that form twin columns for her bulbous orb. Her nose is aquiline, eyelashes long, the upper lip quite small, the lower full and pleading to be sucked upon.

    We were but five-two married pairs and I. The husband of Claudia-Ewan by name-is glib, of medium height, and reasonably fair to look upon. He is such a man, however-as I felt-from whom one would not buy a horse without making sure that all its legs belonged to it.

    “This is my love. She has a mood of sweet compliance on her-do you not?', he asked and kissed her cheek, which small caress in front of others brought a flush upon her velvet skin.

    'Please, Ewan, do not speak like that. I have no knowledge of what you speak, nor have our friends. We cannot stay but half an hour', Claudia said, and looked a little like a hunted doe, taking a seat as though it might not bear her weight.

    'We were speaking of love, my pet', said Eveline, 'before you came, that is. I vowed to Deirdre here that she would see love flourish this afternoon. Let us-for fun, of course-make a small pact that at least we shall all kiss before you leave'.

    And at that a sudden silence fell. All eyes were on poor Claudia whose white-gloved fingers twisted every way and whose blush was like a lantern in the room. She affected not to have heard and cast embarrassed eyes around as if for the first time conscious where she was.

    'Well, my pet, what do you say?', Ewan asked bluffly, “Who shall kiss you first? Shall I kiss Eveline? Will you? Or shall you throw your arms about the neck of Maurice who has longed to hold you these long months?'

    Frozen in attitude, Claudia simply stared at him as if he were not real, as if indeed the whole thing were a dream to her. It was Eveline then who suggested I kiss Claudia first.

    'And so we shall proceed, each one to each', said she while Claudia sank back into her chair and clutched its arms. She was truly speechless for the moment, at which I curiously felt impatience with her and not solicitude as I first felt that I might have done. She was not, after all, a virgin, nor was she immature.

    The room stilled for a moment. All eyes looked at me save Claudia's which were fastened somewhere on the floor.

    'I would like to kiss her very much', I said. I meant to add, 'if she agrees', but out of some perversity did not.

    'She likes to have another's tongue between her lips', said Ewan, at which Claudia seemed to wake from out of her daze and squealed that she did not. How foolish that cry was. A more learned young woman would have said she did, and perhaps added something to the effect that she would permit no more than that. We cannot gauge the responses of others, however, by our own.

    'Ewan, I am leaving-on my own', said Claudia desperately and got up, which I suspected was the last thing that she should have done, and I was right, for on her rising Maurice got behind her, seized her waist and pinned her arms down at her sides and told me literally to have at her.

    Amid such screams as then were uttered, Eveline said calmly, 'Wait! Let me undo her dress', which she proceeded to amid long howls from Claudia. Her dress unbuttoned to the waist. She really should have known better than to wear one such. Her lovely tits were scooped out then from her chemise and showed her nipples, brown and small.

    'Oh god! Oh god! Someone must save me! Help!', screamed Claudia while Eveline-forgetting my election to be first-bent and applied her warm lips to those sensitive points that, under the ministrations of her lips and tongue-soon rose up to sharp points while Claudia mewed and tried in vain to twist in Maurice's commanding grip.

    Ah, that I had a writer's art to delineate, describe in perfect detail all that followed then. I confess to having savaged the young woman's mouth. I could not help myself. Alas, so often have I said that to myself, and yet it's true. She slobbered sobs and blurted protests underneath my searching lips, I palming her firm breasts while Eveline knelt beside the three of us and got her drawers down.

    'Turn her a little, Maurice!', she commanded, and Claudia's half-smothered wails then turned to moans as her pussy yielded to the tongue that lapped with such small succulent sounds as put me in a frenzy of desire. Her moans were weakening by then. At last she acceded to my flickering tongue.

    We shall all have you now, my sweet', I murmured to her lax, warm mouth.

    'Play with her Deirdre. She will soon be ready for the cock', said Eveline and, rising, took her dress off, presenting herself corseted and stockinged only. It was I who attended then to Claudia's muff, finding the honeyed stickiness between her thighs. Her knees were trembling. Maurice held her still. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ewan take his boots and trousers off and Eveline playing with his prick, he fondling her bold, naked bottom cheeks, the two locked in an amourous embrace, at which Claudia needed to be supported more, for-seeing them-she sobbed most fearfully, though mingled with her sobs were other strains that one could not help but recognise.

    Claudia then began at last to reach orgasmic bliss despite herself. I lapped her steadily and felt her salty spurts while Maurice twisted her neck round and seized her mouth-she utterly unable to resist.

    Ah, what an orgy followed! Moaning her despair, Claudia was then bustled, wrestled, carried-oh, I know not what-to a sofa where, with bottom up, she received the burning, throbbing stave of Maurice's prick between her bottom cheeks. A long minute did he labour even to get his swollen crest within her tight, rebellious hole. She cried, she pleaded, even clutched my arm, but finally the rod was worked right in until his balls brushed to her bottom's bulge.

    'No, no, no, NO!', a score of times she sobbed while Ewan mounted Eveline on the floor in such a position that the wicked pair could perfectly well, with worm's-eye view, witness the buggering of Claudia who afterwards, as it transpired, had refused to receive her husband in that wise.

    Was this, then, a revenge on his part? Was it real? Or is she an actress of first rank? I confess to never having seen real tears from her-would have expected such if it were 'real', by which I mean to say was unrehearsed and thoroughly unexpected by the girl. She acceded to him after several manly thrusts and ceased to struggle, though her hips moved not to aid his pistoning of her fine, rumptious little bottom.

    After he had come, withdrawn, she slumped down on her tummy, hid her face-would not be spoken to and lay like one who has gone to sleep of a sudden in a stranger's house. The two on the floor had separated meanwhile, lay replete.

    'Poor Deirdre-only you remain unsatisfied. The men, though, will recover soon', said Eveline, legs open boldly to our gaze.

    I wanted her, in fact, to vanish-Maurice and Ewan, too, and to talk to Claudia, so much did I wish to know if she had been genuinely ravished or whether I was meant to be spectator to a play. I believe that, had I stayed, I would have known. I had a sense indeed that in some way I had been used. I merely smiled and shook my head and retreated to the hall to don my hat and gloves. No one, I noticed, called out after me. I expected Claudia to, in some strange way. She could scarcely not have realised that the curtain had not descended on her bottom yet.

    I am left thus in some curiosity, and feel-although I think it an illusion-the eyes of Eveline on me from afar, though to what end, what purpose, I cannot guess.

    I need a male tonight. O let me not be tempted-no!


    CHAPTER EIGHT

    Daisy Partridge's Day-Book

    We are settled now. How nice and cosy the new house is! I love the winding stairs, the staircases. I have my own room now as well-at last! Mama had promised me one when we moved. She presented her calling card today to our nearest neighbours. They have a daughter near my own age, I believe. Papa says he saw her in a donkey-cart I think he meant a pony cart! He is very vague is Papa, always mixing such things up. Uncle Arnold gave me a big kiss today. It was lucky Mama did not see. I know he kisses her as well. She says I am too grown-up for my age. I really don't know what that means. I told our governess. She says I mustn't talk of things like that. Jack wrote a note to her last night and put it underneath her door. It was VERY rude and said, 'You have a nice big bum'. He tried to disguise his writing, but she knew all right and spanked him for it with his trousers down. I know because I saw. His thing got stiff and stuck up underneath his shirt. I saw her holding it as well! It serves my brother right I bet it hurt. His bottom was all red. Papa has often said he'll birch my own when I am 'bad'. I pray he never will- please no!

    I wonder what that girl he saw is like?


    Lady Celia Partridge's Day-Book

    A rather curious household at the Mansfields', but the general atmosphere is nice. Or rather, I should say is nice in parts. Having been invited to take tea, I met the sisters. No Mama is spoken of. I wonder, is there perhaps a touch of scandal there? Had she been deceased, they would have surely said.

    Mr. Phillip Mansfield is a studious-looking man. He quite reminds me of my brother George who failed at all things and has become an unpublished poet for his sins. Mr. Mansfield is EXCEEDINGLY quiet. I suspect him to be dominated by his sisters who betray great mischief, as I understand the term, and appear to be in permanent residence.

    The daughter, Sylvia, is sweet. I have suggested that she meet with Daisy. Mr. Mansfield quite brightened up at that and has invited her immediately. He has great need of a companion for his daughter, so he said-and this I well understand. It does the girl no good to be alone all day with just adults. However, in so saying he gave his sisters a quite PECULIAR look. Perhaps it is they who do not want to be disturbed, yet gave quite the opposite impression to me. I IX) find myself confused, but even so they are PERFECTLY proper people to know and have an excellent cuisine, I hear. I have invited them all to return my visit. The Misses Jane and Muriel accepted gladly, as did Sylvia. As for the master of the house, he seemed not to know his own mind and offered his apologies lest business take him off that day. In truth, he appears to be as vague as my dear husband is. There are times, however, when I do suspect that such indeterminacy veils such other thoughts as men may have.

    Sir Roger Partridge's Day-Book

    Met Mansfield today. Seems a frightfully reserved chap. Had a feeling that he didn't want to come. His sisters, though, are a very jolly pair. I ventured to show Muriel the conservatory. She admired some rather ripping orchids I have nurtured there. A splendid figure of womanhood she is. She stumbled on a broken pot that the gardener's boy had left upon the floor, which produced a very charming thrusting of her bosoms to my chest. I must say they are jolly firm, as is her bottom which I accidentally clutched when she fell against me. I could not feel that she wore drawers beneath. She blushed and hid her face into my neck, I murmuring my profound apologies, but the dear creature did not seem at all to mind my absolutely unforeseen caress.

    I have arranged with her, quite privately, to do a little hunting at some time-pursuing hares, or such. The poor little creatures-can we not pretend there is one?', she shyly asked. I must say I agreed to that since it will leave us without the diversion of the chase.

    There is a remarkable resemblance in height, form and hair between Daisy and Sylvia. From the back they look like twins. I did not remark that to them, though, for young girls are peculiar in their ways and like to be thought of as quite different from the rest. I observed my thought to Muriel and Jane, and they concurred.

    How fortunate one is to find such prepossessing females near!


    Muriel's Day-Book

    I sense that there is much worth in Roger despite his seeming absent-mindedness. Having fondled my bottom in the conservatory, he asked me, 'By jove, what am I doing? Frightfully sorry, dear lady, for that'. Even so, he had a good squeeze there and began to erupt a little, for I felt it against my thigh. It seems years since I have brought forth a little blush. I was quite pleased with that.

    Lady Partridge is quite sweet. I have yet to sum her up, for women are naturally cautious at the first. I believe there may be possibilities as equally there are in Daisy whose resemblance to Sylvia is marked. They could be exchanged quite neatly in the dark, I said to Jane, who laughed and asked me what I had in mind. I do not know as yet, though certain naughty thoughts arise. I shall go riding with Roger and have little doubt that we shall end up in what the French so charmingly call a bosquet or, in common parlance, among the bushes!

    'I thought he would have asked me first', said Jane, but she is never really jealous of such things. Besides, as the older sister the privilege is mine to handle possibilities first.-'Of course, dear, but don't exhaust them', said she, though kissed me all the same.

    We handled Phillip once again last night. I believe he may be 'waking up' a little bit. Jane saddled him and took the pleasure of his cock while I sat on his face and kept his nose stuck up between my bottom cheeks. We tackled him together in his bed long after Sylvia was fast asleep. The poor, dear man, he is quite terrified lest she should hear.

    “You will do your duty by us, Phillip, dear. You have the first rights, have you not?', asked Jane to his despair. At that moment she was riding up and down upon his prick, jogging her naked bottom lusciously. I lifted up my bottom for a moment and he snorted, groaned, 'Leave me, leave me!' As he began to come, however, so he clutched up at my straddled thighs and, by determination or by accident, brought his tongue to flirt around my cunnylips which were exceedingly moist at that stage, and indeed I sprinkled him profusely while Jane wet his balls.

    There-are you not enjoying it, in truth?', I asked him afterwards, our naked bodies pressed on either side to his. We tease him much about dear Uncle Reggie- how he pumped us both. Jane lay behind him and held his arms while I manipulated his limp, sticky prick. It began half turgid once again, and much against his stubborn will.

    'How dare you thus make me submit to you?', he moaned, but even in the moonlit room one could see that his face and neck were flushed. As much as he pretends to loathe it, even so he likes it when I cup his balls and Jane rubs his tool at the same time. Jane made him turn his neck and kiss her-said that she would scream for Sylvia if he did not. I held their heads together while he did and rubbed my treasure up against his cock, and then took a ribbon and bound it tightly round the root of it to keep it up.

    'You naughty boy', we teased him then, and left him thus, all in a daze, I think.


    Phillip's Day-Book

    My forlorn, lost mood will never leave me now. I am convinced of that. I have become a plaything for the sinful pair. Thank God that none will ever know of this!

    I thank the Heavens, too, for Daisy who is fast becoming a companion for dear Sylvia. Their innocent laughter often reaches me amidst my torments. Even so, young Daisy has become another lever that my sisters use. This afternoon the) both invaded my study again, Muriel holding something crumpled in her hand. To my horror, they were a pair of her own drawers, and most expensive ones with short frilled legs.

    'Come, Phillip, put them on', she said to my disgust. I steadfastly refused, of course, though was not made to combat wickedness of this dire sort, and prayed for the presence of my once-beloved who was veritably an angel beside this pair.

    'You will wear them underneath your trousers. Otherwise we shall pull your garments down in front of Sylvia and Daisy', Jane declared.

    I did not doubt them for a moment-or at least that they might try, and show me thus as a shorn lamb, disgustingly, beyond all one's experience. Thereat Jane threw the door of my study open and called for Sylvia, albeit softly. Panic then was upon me like a net. I drew her back and slammed the door.

    'Go out and I will do it', I declared. But no-we want to see you put them on, was said. I turned my back on them to do that shameful deed. The drawers are softer and more clinging than my normal, proper underwear.

    'How sweet you look!', said Muriel and halted me from putting back my trousers on until I was 'inspected' by the pair and made to draw the knickers tightly up until my manhood formed a lump that was visible through the fine batiste. I begged them for the thousandth time to let me be. Muriel looked serious at that and told me to draw my trousers up. I am to be inspected day and night to ensure that I am wearing the ridiculous attire.

    'You know the penalty', said Muriel.

    I cannot bring myself to feel that I am any longer the possessor of my soul. I feel the drawers all day around my person. They produce the most peculiar sensation I have ever known. My testicles are constantly caressed by the material which has the same effect upon my other private parts. Dear Heavens, dare I write to Deirdre and beg her to return? I fear that if I do-and much I wish to now- I might be scorned by her as well. How desperately I have wandered from the true path that I set myself in life!


    Muriel's Day-Book

    A delightful ride with Roger. Truly, he has merit and does not rush his hedges nor such skirts as come to his attention. Upon his suggestion, we met discreetly at a halfway point and then circled around his private wood where we would not be disturbed, said he, for he had sent his foresters away.

    We settled ourselves, after a fine, refreshing gallop, in a clearing where the sun had enabled a small sward to grow. Delightfully springy it was too, being compounded of both moss and grass, and I asking him if he wished to discuss the condition of the Nation, or philosophy.

    'The philosophy of affections', he replied and-we lying down-he cradled my head romantically on his arm and sought with gentlemanly caution underneath my skirt to an inch or two above my knees, I not disturbing his hand in its search.

    Roger is a fine bookman seemingly and discoursed to me, while pecking lightly on my lips, of much that he has read of love's fine doings, even quoting passages therefrom that stirred me deeply while his fingers made a tour around my garters, felt my thighs above-not hastening but in a teasing way such as one rarely comes across with urgent males who are too quick to put the poker in. Thus did he speak to me of one Brantome who wrote the 'Secret Lives of Ladies', so he said, and had much to plainly speak upon the things the long-gone ones had done, such as ladies 'frotting' quims to quims that were as frothy as with soap.

    'I would not know of such', I smiled, but tipped my tongue between his lips to show him that I merely teased. There were gallants-so he told me Brantome wrote, who fucked their ladies two by two, sometimes a wife and mistress in the self-same bed, and gentlemen who 'trod' their daughters first, before they wed.-'Oho! That is a gentlemanly thing to do?', I asked.

    'I would not know of such', was his response in taunting echo of my own.

    By then his hand reached my slit which he toyed with gently, seeking out my spot and bringing it to tingle to his touch so enervatingly that I squirmed and begged him with my eyes to do the deed. I must have received there many a fine prick, said he. He clearly sought me to respond with more impassioned words, but I would not. A woman knows a man the best when he does all the speaking at the first. As to himself, I asked, how many cunnies had he breached?

    'Of late? A score or two'. He smiled and pretended a soft yawn upon my open mouth forcing my legs apart just as I wished him to, for such a move excites me much, reminds me of days past, my naughtiness.

    'Tut-tut, you have not been over-busy then', I riposted whereat we exchanged tongues more. I drew my knees up. He uncovered me and tucked my gown around my waist, leaving my bottom naked on the sward.

    'I shall be busier with you. Perhaps also with Jane, and…'

    'Sylvia?' At last his penis had sprung out. I fondled its firm girth, soothed up and down the vibrant rod. Her name excited him the more. Even as I uttered it he got between my open legs and rubbed his crest against my furry mount.

    'Has she been trodden yet?', he asked.

    'Not yet. Has Daisy? What sweet legs, she has, what lovely tits. Have you not even brought her nipples up? Oh, Roger-put it in me now!'

    'Wait, woman, wait', he answered me. I adore such mastery. All women do who are not dead to adoration of one's form. His bulbous knob had found the entrance to my honeypot. It parted the rolled lips and slipped within, then stayed itself most maddeningly despite my wrigglings. Both my wrists were gripped and held above my head, he arched upon me; self-possessed, all his supposed vagueness had gone. I knew it for a trick of his. Women can sometimes be so, too, when in the lure of some desire that they are minded not yet to express.

    'Fuck me and you may have us both', I said.

    “Both you and Jane-and Sylvia, also?' His prick moved in another inch. I squeezed upon it rapturously. No one had fucked me thus before. I knew the stimulating thrill of it. His voice was husky and dark as was my own.

    'I want your cock more, Roger. No-not Sylvia. But Daisy, yes. How sweet to hear her whimper under you, but you must promise that you do it to her… OOOH!'

    My words had such effect that he was in me to his balls in one long stroke, holding my wrists still, crushing me, and thus he pinned me, cheek to cheek, both of us breathing heavily.

    'Stir your legs more, woman. Lift them up!'

    “Won't-won't', I said like a young girl, and turned my face more into the soft sward as if I would deny him then my lips. His tongue entered my ear. I closed my eyes. I murmured it was naughty, wicked, bad. His prick stirred in me slowly, throbbing well. I held it clenched within my spongy grasp. What lovely little liquid sounds came as he moved! I hissed my breath in, stirred my bottom just a trifle then, but-as if regretful-let it plump again upon the grass and wore a dull, rebellious air.

    At that, he clasped me firmly around the waist and rolled right over upon his back, carrying me with him with his prick still deeply sheathed so that it was I who straddled him. And thereupon he smacked my bottom hard and gasped, 'Now buck your bottom, woman, and get on with it!'

    'Yoo-ow! You beast!', I laughed. I slewed my hips up, down, and rode him well, sitting up straight and jogging as I did. The deepest penetration is secured that way, I think. I felt completely pierced, absorbed, fulfilled. I spurted, spattered love-juice on his pubic hairs, eyes rolling and my hair all wild. My moans betrayed me, for then he rolled right over once again and pinned me again beneath his virile form.

    'Keep your legs open-wider-wide!', he gasped and mashed his lips most passionately to mine.

    'Come in me-come!', I choked. The grass tickled underneath my bottom and the world was all a-heave.

    “Wait, woman, wait', he groaned and stirred his throbbing pestle more. I had never felt myself so conquered since I was Sylvia's age, and loved each second of his savage thrusts, his mouth all over mine, his hands holding apart my bottom cheeks.

    'Yes, sir, but do it, sir, please do', I whimpered like a girl again, for I felt that such play-acting pleased him so long as he remained the master of my hot, orgasmic fate.

    It did indeed. 'You are a naughty little girl', he mouthed, but still he would not-as it were-obey commands, and threshed me more before he came and shot his huge, warm jets within my clenching maw until both of us lay quivering in the gruelly pools of our delight.

    His body crushed my own. With any other man I would have murmured, 'Get off, do!', but with Roger I remained quiescent, breathing softly till he drew his steaming penis out and knelt to button up his trouser front.

    'You may rise now', he said to my feint astonishment, for though it was said gallantly, there was a strain of strong command in it. He sat to one side, back against a tree, and lit a cigar the while that I repaired myself. Then, having done so, I was ordered to sit down with him, his arm around my shoulders placed.

    It was then that he commenced a discourse that I listened to with awe, for so many things he said about me were correct. I was the leader of a pack, he said, and Jane could well be my accomplice.

    'At the moment, I suspect, you have young Sylvia in thrall. What of Mansfield himself? How does this come to be?'

    I snuggled more into his arms and felt myself-as I so often have with men-superior.

    'He, too. I keep him segregated from the girls', I said.

    He appeared to read my mind on that, and nodded gravely, said I had done well.

    'Pout your lips when I kiss you next', he said. I did so dutifully. He felt my breasts meanwhile and asked me many things about myself: when I was first mounted, how I had behaved-all such. His curiosity seemed endless on that score. When had I first taken the cock between my bottom cheeks, he asked. At seventeen, said I. And as to Jane? Yes, I had held her for her first. He stroked my cheek at that and smiled.-'All as I thought. I saw it in your eyes', said he.

    A moment of silence passed between us then. My cunny pulsed agreeably. I saw some renewed stirrings of his cock and fingered it lightly through his trouser cloth.

    'It shall be thus, my dear', he said at last, 'I shall have you as often as I wish. Jane, too. As to Sylvia, she will be brought upon my cock in turn'.

    'And that is ALL you wish?', I asked, yet felt a curious edge of fear as if I had committed an impertinence-a feeling I had never had before when with a male save for those times when Papa birched me and I would not take my drawers right off.

    His fingers thereupon seized my chin and held my face right under his.

    'You will not answer me in that wise, woman, when I speak!'

    'So you will have us both, then-Jane and I? If such is your command, sir, yes, we will. Together if you wish- that would be nice'.

    I spoke constrictedly. My mouth was pursed up by his grip-

    'You have not mentioned Sylvia', said he.

    'You may not have her-that is why. Not yet, at least. As to Daisy, you may have her on my bed, and if…' SMACK! 'OH!', I bleated. Suddenly he had me over on my belly, dress thrust up again, and SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! his hand fell on my derriere.

    'You will not entertain ideas of that sort, Muriel. That is for me to say. You understand?' SMACK! SPLATT! SMACK! SPLATT! Oh, my poor bottom burned!

    'Yes, yes! Oh, Roger, do not beat me, please!'

    At that he desisted, hauled me up again. I winced as my burning bum squashed on the grass. Indeed, I attempted tears, but none would come. How curious and astounding was the change in me-I who would have spat fire at any other man. I had not so been treated since my more tender years when I was broken-in as many young girls are, particularly in the countryside.

    Would I continue to deal with Phillip, he then asked curiously.-'Of course', I said and waited on his further word.-'We shall see what we shall see', said he, then fell to tender kissing and caressing, which surprised me just as much, fondling my pussy through my pulled-down dress, and I his prick, but neither of us urgent to commence again.

    Jane will scarce believe all this. Perhaps I had best not tell her yet.


    CHAPTER NINE

    Eveline's Day-Book

    Claudia played her part superbly, but she always does. I believe she is quite fixated to this role and can probably play no other, but then she will never appear upon the stage as such. Her theatre is a drawing room.

    Deirdre behaved extremely well and I have no doubt was quite convinced by Claudia's performance, as a few other of our friends have been. I expected her to stay, but discreetly she withdrew and thus-although she knows it not-has passed her test. Our small circle of Libertarians is comprised only of those who can behave when the time calls for it, and who will not blather to the world at large.

    As to her confession on her second day here, that did intrigue me much. Young men are difficult to handle when drawn in on chance from outside. Perhaps her Richard may fill a role. Well, we shall see. I do not wish to interfere. Deirdre is obviously doubtful about her sin, but has not acted weakly, as perhaps she thinks. She had little solace from her husband, after all, and so should feel the minimum of remorse-if any, I would add, if such she needs to feel.


    Deirdre's Day-Book

    Richard is forlorn, the silly boy. 'Mama, do you not love me still?', he asked, thereby betraying that he had tried my bedroom door. I told him that I did, of course, but that we must not embrace so much. Immediately I said that, he embraced me, kissed me passionately and made to push me on the sofa where I would not go.

    'I shall find a nice young lady for you', I declared, at which he flushed and said that was not what he wished. I was a little angry with him, for I had not demurred in letting him caress my bottom and my breasts the while we kissed. It should have been enough, I said. He stomped upstairs and slammed his door just like the naughty boy he is-though he is scarce a boy now, more a man.

    Amy listens to all that happens. I am sure she does. I fret at that. She evidently takes after her father more than me-in some ways. I trust she will not prove as glacial as he. It will bode her no good in the end. I fear to talk to her about such things or she may well throw back at me my 'sins', and that would do no good at all.

    Phillip's Day-Book

    I am told by Jane to write a novel of erotic tone. How can I when it is quite against my will? Think and make notes', she said. I was locked in my room again today, my drawers on underneath my trousers. More and more I find myself sinking in a torpor of despair.

    'You like to suffer, Phillip-that is certain', Jane said while I ground my teeth and could not bring myself to answer her. Can it be true? I tell myself that it cannot. If I am to be forced to write of women's limbs-and all such else as they would have me write-I know not how to formulate the words, nor how to strain myself to write them down.

    Long did the paper lie in front of me untouched-then squeals and cries came to me from below. I ventured to the window at a pace and in recording what I saw can scarcely hold my p)en without a trembling now in all my limbs. There, on the sunlit lawn, dear Sylvia lay on her back, legs bared-indeed, her dress was round her waist. Upon her Daisy had been thrown-I swear she had-and showed a naked bottom to the world.

    Over them both my sisters stood. Muriel had one foot planted in the small of Daisy's back, thus holding her upon my dearest girl, while Jane knelt and smacked Daisy's nether cheeks which, to my gaze, assumed a rosy hue. Resultantly, the poor child squealed although, to my amazement, several times she laughed as well and smothered Sylvia's lips beneath her own.

    Of course, I could not bear to look for long. My damned drawers teased me as I watched, producing an eruption once again. Then Sylvia was made to raise her legs. Dear heavens, they had robbed her of her nether garment, too! No knickers were in evidence upon the grass, and so must have been cast off in the house-no doubt by the same threats that I receive.

    How difficult it is to tear one's eyes away from that which one does not wish to see! I reeled back from the window-felt a fearful throbbing that I did not wish to feel. The sickliest sensations seized me, and I sat, whereat, to my utmost dismay, I spilled into my drawers that manly substance which both Muriel and Jane extol from me, and thus sat weak in horrid, sticky state.

    I would brace myself, humble myself, to write to Deirdre. Yet, what could I say-what could I say? I am caught in such a trap as no man ever could have been before.

    I have failed to say that I saw Rose there, too-some distance from the scene, yet looking, smiling, with her finger in her mouth, the wanton that she too has now become.


    Sylvia's Day-Book

    My aunties are very naughty, making us do that upon the lawn today! Oh dear, I hope that no one ever finds that I have written this, but Daisy's thing kept rubbing to my own each time that Aunt Jane smacked her, and I got such funny feelings, too, just like when I'm in bed with them. Aunt Muriel told Daisy to put her tongue into my mouth. She did. It was quite nice, though-a nice licky-lick. Then she began to moan and twist about. Our hairs rubbed and she made me come, and did the same herself. Aunt Jane said that spanking often makes one do that. The most awful thing was that I thought I glimpsed Papa looking from his window down on us, but he could not, of course, or he would have been awfully stern.

    Afterwards I whispered to Aunt Jane that I thought I had seen him at his window, and she laughed and said that he liked looking at nice views. I think that was really horrid of her, yet she makes me laugh as well, so I do not think she meant it wickedly. She just says things that come into her head.

    Daisy has been spanked by her Papa. She told me so. I wonder what it feels like to do that? I shouldn't think such things and yet I do. She said he made her take her drawers off, too. I can't imagine Papa ever doing that. I would blush ever so much, I'm sure. I told Daisy so. She said she expected he would like to, but I shushed her up. I told her that it wasn't true and that I wouldn't speak to her again for ten whole minutes. She said she didn't care, but waited that whole time for me to speak again!


    Jane's Day-Book

    Muriel has confided in me (after many hesitations, I believe) as to what passed between herself and Roger. I am not sure that she has told me all, but clearly he is both vigourous and brash, and not to say adventurous. I prefer, as she does, more spontaneous events than was suggested in his conversation with her-if it can be called such! So does she, I know. Moreover, we have always marked out our own destinies in amourous affairs. 'I believe I am a little in love with him', she said. What nonsense! She is almost of that 'certain age', but of course I did not tell her that. He is certainly not to be made a 'free gift' of dear Sylvia who needs more tutoring yet, in any case. His advice about Phillip, though, was sound, though I am quite sure he merely believes that we have simply bullied our dear brother.

    I am positive that Phillip is not yet fully aware that he wishes to be obedient to us. I found his drawers very patchy last night and asked him what he had been doing. He would not say. There is a look of shyness in his eyes when he is called a 'naughty boy' and he secretly likes to be called such, I think. I said to him that he must pay a penance for toying with himself (the which he vehemently denied) and must kneel and kiss my feet, my knees, my thighs.

    After much hesitation he obeyed. I only have to mention Sylvia to him! His face worked slowly up beneath my skirt, whereat-he having reached my thighs-I clamped him tightly in-between and made his ears to burn, which also made him groan. What a delicious feeling to hold a humbled male thus-even my own brother, I confess!

    After two minutes or so of clamping him, I told him he might lick, but bent and held his hair lest he might struggle. Thereat I opened my legs wider and squashed my pussy down upon his mouth. He spluttered much, but finally acceded to my wish. Fortunately, Muriel did not interrupt. I held my legs straight and bent myself back a little, loosed his hair, and enjoyed his doglike licking thoroughly until I creamed his lips and tongue, made him stand up and lick his lips, which he did, much shamefaced.

    His cock was very stiff after that exercise. I avoided touching it-felt that was best. I told him to go to bed and made my exit then. He looked forlorn and-for the first time-almost pleaded with his eyes for 'fond attention'. But he must learn: it is the only way. I who have been under men who ruffled me so much and often told me what to do am pleased that I can conquer one in turn! It is an utterly new experience. Muriel says it was her idea, but it was I who put the leash around dear Phillip first.

    We had Rose in bed with us last night-I at her bouncy bottom while Muriel attended to her quim. After a few minutes of attention, she was very eager to have more and tongued us dutifully afterwards.


    Deirdre's Day-Book

    There is nothing for me but to go to Eveline and tell her what has passed, and which I hesitate to put to paper- but to leave blank pages now would only irritate me much in years to come, veiling my weakness, as I would be bound to think. I have no one else to confide in now but Eveline.

    Richard brought home a friend of his-a youth of his own age, good looking and of good appearance. I judged him thus to be a nice young gentleman. Ah, how appearances deceive!

    Richard asked me if his friend might stay the night, and I agreed. Amy retired to bed at ten. I believe she was taken with Jeremy who has an undoubted outward charm, but since I cannot tell her what has passed, I cannot warn her. Such is the web we weave, as the Bard said. But in truth I must castigate myself for having acted foolishly. 'Entertained' as I felt myself to be by the engaging chatter of Richard and his friend, I permitted myself too much indulgence both in wine and relaxation, and was scarcely aware of passing time.

    At my age, of course, it is all too easy to imagine oneself as being able to bridge the gap between maturity and youth and to fancy oneself as being less than one's years, particularly when one is being lightly flattered, as I found myself to be by Jeremy who took upon himself the filling of our glasses-I having loosely given permission thereto, and the which I now regret. I was prettier than his own Mama, said he, at which I told him he should not say that, though even so (as I am sure all women do) accepted it as a compliment.

    Our voices were hushed, for the hour was late. Several times I made to stir myself and rise but was seized by that torpor of languorousness that has too often been my undoing.

    In providing me with a fifth or sixth glass (for I had lost count), Jeremy made so bold as to accommodate himself beside me on the chaise longue while Richard intimated his own devotion by settling himself at my feet. The conversation being but light (and often foolishly skittish on my part), I know not what we were discoursing on when Richard suddenly said, 'He wishes to kiss you, Mama', and I replying 'What?' rather than to offer an offhand reply, as I feel certain I would better to have done.

    Indeed, I found myself endeavouring to gather further words which certainly evolved in my head but never appeared on the very lips that the wanton youth then attempted with his own. I confess that in the surprise of the moment-for the action followed within seconds of Richard's pronouncement-I made no move to evade the unbidden kiss that was one of undoubted, would-be passion. I recall uttering a small choking sound of surprise, but by then Jeremy's mouth was all over my own, the while- to my extreme amazement-Richard (being, as I have said in an inferior position on the floor close to my knees) moved his hands up beneath my skirt and commenced caressing my legs.

    So feared was I that Jeremy would notice this rude gesture, that I pressed both away hastily, though this did not prevent Richard's friend from raining further tempestuous kisses on my averted neck.

    I am not one given to great displays of temper. Even when in great discord with Phillip, I rarely raised my voice, but spoke coldly and quietly. In this particular circumstance, however, I blustered out some protest (though not in a common manner) and endeavoured both to show dismay and yet to try to make light of it at the same time, saying-no doubt feebly what a foolish boy Jeremy was. At the same time, my head was swirling somewhat with all the wine we had absorbed, which circumstance I can only extend as a frail excuse for the roguish pair as well.

    I must to bed, I said, not wishing to confess even to myself that Jeremy had passed his hand across my breasts while kissing me, for I could not bring myself to say that outwardly.

    'Mama, please stay and talk with us', Richard pleaded, but I would have none of that, merely saying that such foolishness was not proper and that it was time we all retired.

    Thereupon I rose, settled my gown, and departed- leaving the two, as I thought, in a state of embarrassed, if not shamed, confusion. Such is the wilful simplicity of the human mind, that-having entered the hall and hearing them whispering-I assumed them to be exchanging regrets and even arguments over what had passed. Reaching my room, I lit a cigarette and threw myself on my back on the bed while uncaringly casting ash upon the floor. That small detail comforts me for in retrospect it at least indicates to me what a carelessly foolish state of mind I was in, which is to say that I had not let anger overcome me as it should have done. I am weak. I am prone to make excuses for others. How else could I have endured a marriage as fruitless in responsive desire as I did?

    Were I to search my soul, I would say that I am also given to believing that others are as I myself am. Therein, however, lies a betraying irony in the light of what was to occur.

    I know not how to frame these passages, and yet would be a coward if I did not. Extinguishing the cigarette, half-smoked, I rid myself of my dress, my drawers and my chemise and-being naked to my waist corset and stockings-brushed my hair, though more in absent-mindedness than otherwise and conscious that my steps were not entirely steady. The floor itself appeared to waver underneath my feet, and yet I felt in no mood then for sleep, was restless, knew my cunny to be tingling just a little with desire, though I believe that normal in a woman such as I-which is not to denigrate myself, I trust.

    My mind was mazed. Do I excuse myself? Perhaps I do. The door opened and I made to turn about. Before I could do so it had closed again, and there to my considerable dismay, astonishment-or call it what one will- were Jeremy and Richard, naked, with their penises erect, their faces flushed with fearful eagerness.

    'Ah! How DARE you!', I remember uttering, but in that fraught moment they had advanced upon me. Richard clasped me round my waist and pressed his throbbing pego to my belly, bidding me to shush or Amy would be disturbed. I gasped, I thrust against him wildly, but to no effect. Indeed, such efforts as I made to free myself were entirely frustrated by Jeremy who took up post behind me and pressed his prick upright between my bottom cheeks.

    Dear heavens, how loosely could my pen now run if I should let it!

    'Get out! My god, get out!', I moaned while Richard tried to kiss me passionately. Their cocks rubbed fore and aft-aroused me all against my will, though weakened as it was by wine and thought. My wrists were gripped by Jeremy who held them tight down at my hips and coursed his knob up-down between my nether cheeks while Richard's pronged itself beneath my fur.

    'Come, Mama, let us-do it, please!', choked Richard.

    Thereupon I screeched unwittingly-the last cry of despair perhaps.

    'Mama! What is it?', then came Amy's voice from behind her door, along the hall.

    'I t… t… trod upon a pin! Now, go to sleep!', I called, and knew perhaps that in my answer was surrender to their wickedness. They knew I dare not then cry out again. Such almost soundless struggles as I made availed me not, and I was urged and drawn on to the bed, cast down on my back thereon, my shoulders pinned by Richard while I gritted out my pleas to him. I threshed my legs, but Jeremy seized diem underneath his arms and scissored them apart, then-falling on me-probed his penis to my nest.

    I bucked. I clawed at Richard all in vain. The knob slipped in.

    'I'll fuck her first, then you, old chap', said Jeremy.

    ' Ri-chard!', I choked, but in the moment Jeremy was sheathed. Dear god, the stinging sweetness of that stiffened rod that pulsed its message to my clinging walls! — 'Ah, no!', I heard myself moan out. The cry, however, was but a cloud of out-pulsed breath in Richard's mouth. Jeremy's belly flattened down on mine. His rod grooved slowly back and forth-and not, as I expected, with excited thrusts. He has clearly had a mentor of some sort, a married one, perhaps. Despite myself, I came. Almost at once I spilled and further oiled his prick.

    'She's coming on, old chap, leave go of her. I have her now', said Jeremy.

    Dear heavens, had they only held me all the time! I could at least have snuffed my conscience out. Richard leaned up, and Jeremy sleeked full upon my form. I blubbered, blustered, yet he too captured my weakling mouth and stung his tongue to mine, panting his pleasure and yet not beyond control. 'Twas I who slipped across that boundary with my acquiescence to the wicked deed. The working of our lips was heard, and all such soft and liquid sounds as come when mouths and naked bodies move in an abandoned unison.

    Of the long hour that followed in that darkling room, I have but a mosaic of lewd memories. I moaned, I whimpered, sobbed-and yet to all their crudities of muffled speech I uttered not a word, was as a limp and willing plaything to the pair who spermed my nest in turn.

    I was not spoken to by Jeremy. I was spoken of, and that alone intensified in a most curious way the dark excitement that I did not wish to feel. After both had spurted their liquid treasures, I allowed my fingers to be drawn around their pricks-played with them feebly, as in some far dream, and yet I did. That, and their youthful ardour, brought them to a stand once more.

    'I say, get her up on to her knees now, Richard. What an arse she has!', was said.

    Inert and well-juiced as I was, I made to stall their efforts by dumb slothfulness, by mournful sounds that veiled my sad hypocrisy. As heavy as a sack full of potatoes was I rolled, urged up until my bottom bulbed to Jeremy who knelt behind me and, despite my gritting squeal, entered his knob between the deep cleft of my nether cheeks and forced the tight ring of my bottomhole. I jerked, or tried to, but he gripped my hips. In girlhood had I been invaded such, but never since. I grinched, I bit the pillow as the knob urged in, the helmet slipping past the rim, insinuating inwards till my breath puffed out. I bit the pillow, tried to glide down on my belly then, but Richard ringed my waist and held me up.

    “Good fellow, Richard, hold her so. I have her now'.

    'Oh no!', I sobbed-but did the words escape my lips, or sang they only in my head?

    One long, slow thrust-a grunt-and he was in. His balls brushed underneath my sticky pouch, his hands replacing those of Richard where they clasped beneath the soft curve of my belly and thus held me corked. I whimpered. Thus we stayed, then he began to work it in and out with long, slow movements, making my head swim, feeling the suction of his penis there.

    O dark miasma of desire-O dark! I heard my breath out-gasping, screwed the pillow up and strove not to cry out the secret pleasure I sustained.

    'She's taking it, old chap, I knew she would!', gasped Jeremy, whose prick moved faster then, finding an easement in my narrow aperture, causing my fleshy buttocks on and on to slap against his belly as he worked.

    'Come-work your hips more, Deirdre!' Ah that voice that came to me from a long, distant past, a bed squeak-creaking underneath my knees after the birch had done its burning work…

    Do I excuse myself? Excitement dons a mantle often of confused delight and shame that mingle even while the deed is being done. If such is my excuse, then it must be. One's emotions oftimes are as hounds that willy-nilly chase the fox. I yielded, I received, first to the one, and then… But no, I'll write no more of that. The morning, come dimly to my eyes at last, found me alone in my much-tousled bed, the stains of sin like puddles on the sheet.

    I cried a little-silent tears-then heard the maid approach, and she surprised to find me clothed still in my corset with no nightgown on. I spoke not to her, though, save just to ask if all were up.

    'Master Richard's guest has gone, ma'am', I heard to my joy. The young rogue had risen early and had fled. My tears dried at the thought of that. He would live all day in fear of my appearance at his home-angel of vengeance with unfolded wings demanding audience with his Mama. Then came the sound of Richard's voice, asking the maid if I were yet awake. At that I sat up in the bed and called him in, to his astonishment, no doubt.

    He entered like a vagrant, thief, as well he might- stood dolefully regarding me. I beckoned, motioned him to close the door. His eyes lit up. The dark deeds were forgiven, in his mind. My naked breasts loomed to his willing view. I kicked the sheet down idly and exposed myself, my dried bush well fluffed up and dark upon the white skin of my belly and between my thighs.

    'Mama?' His voice was scarce more than a squeak.

    I put my finger to my lips, brought him to kneel up on the bed and undid his trouser buttons carefully while motioning silence all the time.

    How eagerly and with what wolfish grin he nodded then! I drew out his limp cock and fondled it, pushed down his trousers and caressed his balls. He thought himself in Paradise, of course, and grunted, and his face was flushed.

    'Come dearest, lie beside me', I invited. For a second then his eyes veiled over with an instinct that, alas for him, came much too late. No sooner had he come down to my side than I rolled upon him, clamped my hand over his mouth and-impressing my full weight upon his body, squeezed his balls as strongly as I could while agony showed in his bulging eyes. His face paled, was as white as was the sheet. His eyes rolled-then he lay in a limp feint for which I felt no pity, none at all. Indeed, I rose, began to dress myself. Long moments passed and then he groaned, eyelashes fluttering he doubled up his legs and lay in patent, searching pain which I ignored.

    His groans, his whimpers, all were meant as pleas that found no home within my vengeful heart. Passing without, I took the key and locked him there within. When Amy asked me where he was, I said he had gone out a-riding with his friend.

    'Oh, he is very nice, Mama, is Jeremy', she said.

    I gave her no reply. Such was the only hint I could extend of my displeasure. Not till four hours later, and she out of sight, did I release Richard who had not dared to make a sound to expose his presence in my room. He slank into his own, head down, will get no word from me until I wish. I have not finished with him yet, and nor with Master Jeremy.


    CHAPTER TEN

    Richard's Day-Book

    Mama is so furious with me that I have had to stay in my room all day, and told Amy I have a fever. I was only allowed soup. It is all Jeremy's fault. He told me he had done it before and that ladies always treat it as a jape afterwards. I do not know now if Mama wanted to or not. She was very quiet, but that was only because of Amy, I am sure. I have written her a note and said that I deserve to be beaten and have asked her forgiveness. I put it under her door. I know she found it because I listened very carefully and heard her unfolding the paper, but then I heard her turn the key in her lock. I have been afraid that she would go and see Jeremy's parents, but she did not leave the house. If something would happen, I would feel better. I don't care what it is. Mama's silence is awful.


    Amy's Day-Book

    Richard does not look at all himself and would hardly speak to me, though I only ventured once into his room. Mama says he may have something catching and that I must not stay. Tomorrow Mama and I are going into town.

    I hope I see Jeremy. I think he is very handsome, but I do not think Mama thinks much of him.


    Lady Celia's Day-Book

    A visit from the Mansfield girl and ladies. Mr. Mansfield did not come; it was said that he was busy and extended his apologies. Sylvia is very sweet, but I find the Misses Mansfield rather forward. It is the way of some County folk apparently. They venture to speak of more intimate things than one is accustomed to. Thus, when I was showing them my dresses, both said what a fine figure I had and judged my age to be several years less than it is, about which I did not disabuse them. Muriel remarked that I have a fine bosom and what she described as a most fetching embonpoint, by which Roger later told me she intended my bottom.

    That was not a very ladylike thing to say, I told him, whereat he said that to the contrary it was a fine compliment and that my bottom-as he insists on calling it now-is as sleek and firm as a Dutch cheese. He has many times attempted to enter my person there, but I have always desisted. 'It is the country fashion', he said, which I cannot bring myself to believe, nor that Nature intended such. I fear to think how he has come upon such knowledge and tackled him upon that while we were abed and he constantly fingering my aperture there. He said he had overheard such talk being put about in the tap-rooms locally and that it is called corking a female.

    I continued to resist his efforts whereupon he spilled against my belly after rubbing furiously and becoming much more excited than I have ever known him do before. I trust that country life is not changing him. I have never known him be this way before. It was proper for him, of course, to accompany the ladies back to their residence, though he was overlong in returning, which I told him would tire Daisy out. She appears to be enjoying the company of Sylvia, though, and that pleases me. It is good for her to have someone of her own age. Girls grow up more quickly nowadays than they were wont to.


    Daisy's Day-Book

    I am going to ask Mama if I can stay a whole week with Sylvia. We have such a jolly time. Papa is much brightened up now that we have new friends. Mama was a little grumpy that we stayed so long, but Papa wished to talk business with Sylvia's aunties. I believe it was about their stable for they went in there while Sylvia and I stayed away in the garden. Sylvia said we must not play fingers and kisses, as we call it, in sight of her Papa's window again so went into the shrubbery. I like sucking her tongue and she likes sucking mine.

    Oh dear, we forgot the passing of time, it was so nice and warm on the grass. We hardly had time to push down our dress before we were found, and Papa looked very flushed for he saw our legs, but Sylvia's aunties said all young ladies like to kiss and that we were not fret to show our jollity. Aunty Muriel is very friendly with Papa for she had her arm around him. Papa did not know what to say, and I myself was confused. She said that if we all kissed one another it would make it the same. Then everybody kissed everybody, and it was very nice. Papa only kissed me on the comer of the mouth and, while he was doing so, Aunty Muriel said she would smooth my dress down, but instead she pulled it up! Sylvia giggled. Papa said it was wrong.

    We all had some lemonade and champagne mixed after that. I did not see Mr. Mansfield. He must work very hard. When we came home in the carriage, Papa said I am not to take offence at their jollities for it is the way of people hereabouts.

    I did not know what to say, for he spoke to me very directly and I hoped and hoped he had not really seen what Sylvia and I were doing in the garden, so I said I did not mind. Papa said he could not hear me, though, with the noise of the carriage wheels, so I sat on his lap and said it again. He said it meant that I was growing up and that he would kiss me for that, which he did, and while he was doing so he felt my titties! I felt all sticky and warm and the carriage jogged us ever so much so I clung to him and bounced up and down and I could feel my titties swelling. Papa asked did I like it and I said yes, I did not mind, and he said we would do something nicer soon. He sucked my tongue like I do with Sylvia and her aunties! I felt swoony. I am sure now that he did see, so I could not say no. Oh, I did so much kissing today that I feel quite dizzy when I think of it. Aunty Jane said to play with myself when I think of nice things, so I do now.


    Phillip's Day-Book

    The doom of womanhood is upon me, if womanhood it is still to be called. I am to call both my sisters 'Mistress', I am told, and am to kneel whenever they enter my room. To my profound shame I find myself now doing so, my head first to be buried up under the skirt of one or the other and my ears painfully clenched between their thighs. At all such times now they wear drawers, the crotches of which frequently become moist when I am thus imprisoned.

    'Hold your face up and sniff, but do not lick', I am told in the most severe tones. It is useless for me to beg (dear heavens, that I should use that word!) that I do not wish to do either. I am beginning to find a fearful, an utterly incomprehensible, feeling of comfort in having my face so clenched between their fulsome thighs-even, I note, to the use of that very adjective that they have bidden me both to use and to write.

    I have not progressed scarce two paragraphs in my new writing, and such as I have miserably penned is scorned. My day-book is henceforth to be read by them. I have no rights of privacy. Thus am I told to write herein that which I hesitate to set down on paper otherwise. I have smelled in their drawers an admixture of urine and muskiness such as evidently comes upon a woman when she is 'on heat'- oh, dreadful phrase, and one that they have put into my mouth as well as have caused to ease forth from my pen.

    In my boyhood I several times heard rough fellows use the dreadful word 'fucking'. My sisters have extracted this confession from me. Deirdre frequently used it when she found herself in the throes of passion, and often wished me to repeat it, to say it to her then, but I would not.

    It is, I am told now, an unseemly word for me to employ-though I never have save when Muriel and Jane both brought me to utter it after long ear-burning moments in-between their undoubtedly strong legs. I am to speak instead of 'servicing' a female-which is to say to insert my penis in their persons (I shall be punished for not using the word I was told to) and to so modulate my movements as to accord them pleasure.

    I am to be 'taught' this, and indeed have already, to my renewed despair, begun. This evening Jane knelt upon the couch in my study and presented her naked person to me in the shape of her posterior, having pushed her drawers down to her knees. Muriel meanwhile manipulated me through my drawers and then commanded me to push down and to mount the couch behind Jane who rested on her palms. By various tickling movements of Muriel's fingers I was then entered into Jane's person, or quim-the crest of my tool to very slowly enter until the whole of my penis was engorged in her 'clinging channel'.

    The emotions, the sensations, that come upon me when I am sheathed thus in one or other of them are utterly indescribable and so far beyond the bounds of propriety-of morals such as they are properly known and understood in decent Society-are such as make my head reel. Bending behind me, Muriel felt for and held my testicles lightly while I was made to remain embedded in that spongy nest. (Their words again, not mine, of course.)

    I was, I was told, to accord Jane fifty long slow strokes of my unfortunately stiffened penis-no more and no less before expelling my juices in her. My testicles being warning held, as I have said, Muriel then slapped my bare buttocks with her free hand and bid me commence. Ah, what an agony of sinful effort! I was made to remain with my torso upright and gazing ahead-not on the 'divine form' of Jane, as Muriel expressed it.

    To my supreme agony of shame, Muriel's finger then inserted itself in my nether hole, which caused me excruciating sensations.

    'Come on! Perform properly!', she snapped, and then began my enforced motions in and out of Jane's 'clinging maw' while she herself remained still save for occasional imperious movements of her hips, as if to indicate that my efforts were poor, Muriel's finger meanwhile moved back and forth in my posterior, making my embedded penis to feel even stiffer. Moreover, she counted relentlessly. Despite myself, despite all my efforts to remain calm and detached from these wicked proceedings, the urge of Nature came upon me too soon-encouraged wickedly as it was by certain interior clenchings of Jane's person.

    My failure thus to accord with their wicked desires and instructions was total. At the count of thirty-one, when I was already at the limit of my endeavours to hold back my spermatic flood, I injected her helplessly and quivered and shuddered much as she sucked upon my jetting tool.

    Thereupon, hearing my groans and Jane's murmurs, Muriel removed her finger and began slapping my buttocks hard, telling me-even while I expelled my sperm-what an idle, wicked and totally selfish dog I was not to be able to satisfy the demanding female in the way that she required.

    Such are the sensations that so haplessly come upon one during the emission of one's sperm that I begged to be excused, though this did not alleviate the very hard smacks I received-'Just like the bad, naughty boy you are', said Muriel while Jane drew out the last quivering drops of my expended penis and declared that I had come a lot, but much too soon.

    For a moment of terrible and unforgivable desire, I wished to remain sheathed in her, but I was made to withdraw and-while she rose-was put upon my belly and thrashed with one of my own straps until I sobbed. I pleaded-yes-for forgiveness. There was none.

    'You will LEARN!', Muriel commanded me when she had at last finished assailing my heated buttocks which were torturously striped and hot from leather.

    'He MUST learn', I heard Jane say as she pulled her drawers up, as I could hear by the sounds, for my shamed face was all but hidden from them. 'He has a good prick and he comes a lot. He can be put to servicing the girls when he is fit for it and controls himself,' she added.

    'Control will come. We will see to it that it does', Muriel said. I was then given a kick and told to pull my drawers up. I stood quivering and weak with my back to the wicked pair, wondering of whom they had spoken. I wished to die, I said. They were the only words I uttered.

    'To the contrary, Phillip, you are being guided into a life of usefulness. Males such as you, my dear, are but appendages to your prick. It is your prick that must be educated to perform its correct and proper duties such as your dear wife doubtless never received. You will in the future be put to females twice or thrice a day and will be expected to perform to their satisfaction. You will be slavish in your attentions to them, as you are to be to us. Fail and you will be even more frequently whipped. It is what you have always wished for yourself, had you but known it'.

    'I have never…', I began, but such as I might have dared to protest was ignored. With a sweeping of their skirts they retired and closed the door, leaving me to such cogitations as even the great Dante did not envisage in his visions of the Inferno, albeit that in the middle of the journey of my life I, too, find myself in a dark forest whence there seems no escape.

    I shall write to my once-beloved. It is my only hope. I shall smuggle the letter out somehow, but who will put it to the post for me? I may be driven to ask Rose. A sovereign slipped into her hand should suffice to seal her lips. I shall ask Deirdre to return. We shall restore order to the house. I am sure that she will see the light. Ah alas! — I have forgotten that my day-book is now to be examined by Muriel and Jane. I must pen my letter immediately and somehow must get hold of Rose. I shall stand bold-shall expunge not a word of what I have now written here. My ears will burn between their thighs again, I know.


    Muriel's Day-Book

    Rose was quite taken aback last evening to have a sovereign pressed into her hand by Phillip, she believing that he required rather more special favours of her, which I suspected she would not be that unwilling to accord him. She, too, must learn however. In the event he but wished her to post a letter to Deirdre. Within half an hour I had handed it back to him, advising him that he might post it himself. Naturally he was covered in confusion, which is quite a proper state for him to be in!

    'Are you then a prisoner in your house?', I mocked him. I had not ventured to unseal the envelope, nor would dream of doing so. I know our Phillip by now much better than I ever did. He is falling faster and faster into that very despond-as some men believe it to be-that in truth he wishes to immerse himself in.

    Even two weeks ago a pert reply would have come upon his lips. Now, however, he merely mumbled something and made his way without-quite longing, I am sure, for me to call him back. I then read the last entry in his day-book. He betrays himself, though he knows it not, in the final sentence he has penned therein. That which he pretends to despise, to hate, to feel shame of, is that which he really now desires. He was not long gone. Upon his ascending the stairs once again, I pointed to my bedroom and he went meekly within. Following him, I closed the door and turned the key. I would have my amusements occasionally without Jane there.

    I advised him that I was going to teach him little tricks-that one snap of my thumb and finger would indicate my requirement to be licked and attended upon and that I would extend that part of my body which required such attention. Two clicks would mean that he was to service me, bearing in mind the required number of cock-strokes were to be given. His eyes have begun to grow a little hungrier now. I observed that as I disrobed before his eyes, retaining only my bootees and my brown, gartered stockings.

    A motion of my hand caused him to kneel. This he has already learned. Straddling my legs and standing over him, I brought him to apply the tip of his tongue to my slit, whereat he had to sniff first. The motions of his tongue have become more agile, I notice-sweeping and curling in the appropriate manner of a trained hound that I once knew a lady to employ for that very purpose. I moved my belly occasionally, deliberately bumping it against his nose.

    'Faster! You are making your Mistress come', I ordained. Hands on hips, I teased myself by weaving my bottom about so that one moment-as the exquisite climax of desire approached-his tongue swooped beneath my slit, and at another I withdrew from all but the very tip of it. An agony of pleasure seized me after a few moments of this voluptuous exercise. Grasping his ears, I brought his mouth to splurge under my cunnylips and squirted my fine juice of love over his tongue whereafter I turned, bent forward, and had him lick my bottom just as slavishly until my bottomhole was well lubricated by his saliva.

    A sense of great satisfaction seized me. Alone with me, Phillip proved more suppliant and seemingly anxious to please than had Jane been there. Upon my facing him once more, with my bottom feeling pleasurably warm and wet, he bowed his head and remained kneeling with hands clasped.

    'Show your Mistress what you have for her now', I murmured.

    His hands twittered at his buttons, pushed his trousers down, and then his fine cambric drawers of which he now has three pairs, though has lamentably failed to note that fact in his day-book.

    His penis stood very stiff. 'Are you a good doggy?', I enquired softly, for I have discovered that it is meaningful if one constantly changes one's tone of voice.

    Phillip nodded but did not look up, despite the allure of my well-puffed quim. I teased him more then by rubbing my garters against his nose while taking purchase on his hair and holding his head up. I confess to a great desire to lie upon my back and have him mount me, yet it is frequently better to leave his cock in a state of suspense. I intend to work him well and believe that the day is not far off when his penis may be introduced very usefully into the younger ones. For the time being at least he may be regarded as the house stallion. That is how I wish it to be.

    'You may leave now', I told him. There was little hiding of his disappointment. I made him turn and crawl on all fours to the door and there cover himself again before I bid him rise and dismissed him. His night would have been one of such desiring as he will never confess.


    CHAPTER ELEVEN

    Lady Celia's Day-Book

    I am pursued by dreams and visions such as cloud my mind both with apprehension and delight. I am in such confusion as I have never known before. Two days ago Muriel Mansfield visited on her own. She was passing, so she said, and ventured to have herself announced. Being alone, I received her whereupon she greeted me by kissing me upon the mouth, to my great astonishment. She responded to the look of disconcerted wonder that I then could not contain by smiling and doffing her cloak and bonnet.

    Tea being brought, we then discoursed on quite usual matters such as dress and so on, though all the time I felt myself as if being examined, and as if in turn I were examining her.

    'I have upset you. Do you not like kissing other women?', she asked as soon as the maid had departed with the tea things.

    I told her that I did not know of such things, which was true. My expression again must have shown it, for she laughed and asked me whether it repelled. I said that I did not know the answer to that.

    'I believe you do', said she, 'but it is hidden in your mind. If I kiss you again when I leave, will you forgive me for my impertinence?'

    Such a conversation never having entered before into my realms of experience, I was dumb and perhaps pursed my lips rather primly, for another aggravating smile appeared on her lips.

    'It is not forbidden, you know', were her next words. Thereat, she rose, and I thinking that she was about to leave soon enough. Instead, she seated herself on the arm of my chair, drew my chin up and again impressed her mouth over my own in such a fashion that I clutched my both hands at the arms of the chair. Her tongue slid into my mouth for a moment and then retreated.-'You see how sweetly it disturbs?', she asked, for in the quickness of the moment I had not endeavoured to evade the strange and foreign-seeming kiss, and thus she evidently thought me entirely acquiescent.

    I made to rise, but in that moment she removed herself from my immediate presence. And there came then from my own mouth one of those ridiculous interjections that have their origin without any seeming thought.-'I do not understand!', I uttered while she, turning away, picked up her long kid gloves. In that same moment a noise was heard without and Roger entered-and when I least wished him to. The door having been left ajar by the careless maid, he had overheard what I had said.

    'Pray what is it you do not understand, dearest?', he enquired.

    Perhaps I was saved for the moment by Muriel's otherwise most impolite interruption, since I would not have known how to answer him.

    'Oh, something nice. But I must really leave now. Will you both forgive me?', she replied and swept up her feathered hat and was gone, leaving me to burst into tears which I refused to explain to Roger on any account, and he being left utterly bewildered and not a little concerned.

    That night I entered into a dream in which Muriel was kissing me again, though for much longer. Indeed, I woke out of the dream with my entire body feeling over-warm and strange and clutched at Roger who awoke on the instant to ask me what the trouble was. Again I could not explain, but fortunately he fell asleep again almost immediately. The dream pursued me all day-not only the dream, but the actuality that had preceded it, those full moist lips upon my own and the impertinent flickering of a tongue in my mouth. Each time I thought of it my cheeks grew hot and I experienced a feeling of mingling outrage and unwanted pleasure that I could not bring myself to believe in.

    I have always lived a virtuous life, as I have understood the word. I have fended off naughtinesses even from Roger who has sometimes become too wicked and brash in his desires. Yet as the night came on again, I fell into a curious despairing-that in truth was not completely so-that I would enter into the same dream again.

    Indeed I did, save that this time both I and Muriel were undressed and pressed our naked forms together. Awakening from this dream, and it being morn, I began to roll restlessly about. Once more I awakened Roger and this time he would not be put off, indeed veritably bullied me into telling him what had passed, which I at last did, though brokenly and often almost incomprehensibly.

    To all he listened quietly, however, stroking my face and form and in particular between my thighs where I was very moist. Raising his nightgown, he brought his penis to thrum against my belly and thereupon began to speak as I have never heard him do before. Strange words and phrases passed his lips and floated like down about my head. I was not to be disturbed, said he, for such desires between women were well-known and indeed universal. Kissing after all was a jollity and to be encouraged. It was a great prettiness for women to kiss, he averred, while I was protesting weakly that it was wicked and wrong and that I really had no desire to.

    His voice then took on a more serious strain.-'I believe you have a considerable desire to pleasure yourself which until now has remained hidden in the depths of your being, my love. Deny it as you will, but at this very moment-awakening fresh from the most delightful and sensuous of dreams-your cunnylips pout like a young girl's and are sticky with desire. Feel how smoothly and easily my cock enters you', he intoned, rolling upon me before I could prepare a defense.

    In but one second he was fully sheathed, our bellies close together and his fine eyes glowing down into mine. The gentle stirring and pulsing of his rod excited me madly and, though I did not wish to show it, I began to utter sounds of passion. Suavely and deeply his cock moved in me while my bottom cheeks rippled with pleasure and my breasts heaved, my nipples quickly springing erect.

    “You will have her, my pet', he murmured, to which I moaned 'NO!', though not for long. His words had the same effect upon me as had her kisses-that is to say of apprehension and delight at the same time so that I knew not which way to turn between the two conflicting feelings.

    'Yes!', he insisted. His loins began to work. My hips rolled with pleasure. I clasped my arms around his neck and came upon the instant, oiling his pistoning tool and thus silently confessing my arisen excitement which was fast overcoming its erstwhile twin.

    'I must not! No, it is wicked!', I moaned, twisting and turning in my mind between the delirious actuality of what was happening and the wholly disturbing feelings that had otherwise been aroused in me.

    'I will bring her to you, dearest', I heard and then my head sank back deeper into my pillow and I spilled yet again, though then in longer trills such as racked my entire form with electric sensations.

    'No, yes!', I answered in one and the same breath. Thereupon Roger began to plough my clinging furrow deeply. We panted, we clasped one another in a frenzy of pleasure while the most sensuous and wicked phrases poured from his lips.

    'Ah, what a superb fuck you are! What enchantment you will know!', he uttered, and then came the flood of his desiring in orgasmic bliss. Our bodies quivered together in delight, I creamed his prick again, received his last and thinner spurts, and then we both sank down in heavenly quiet.

    Roger, though, was not long at his ease. More stirs in him than used to, I believe. The manly rod withdrew and he sat up, stirring his tousled hair, eyes crinkling in a smile.

    'You shall have her today, my pet', he said and stepped from off the bed as though he had said something normal, ordinary.

    'Dearest, no, I did not mean…!'

    'I will bring her after lunch, my dear. You two will swim in delicious harmony, I know. Twill do you the very world of good. I shall take Daisy to their house and will not return for several hours. You will not be disturbed at all.

    'No, Roger, no-I cannot!'

    'I say yes, you shall, you will, my dear. I promise you there shall be no reprise if you do not enjoy yourself.

    My remonstrances, my pleas, were all in vain. I am left alone now with my hour. I shall refuse to kiss her, that is all. I shall refuse.


    Jane's Day-Book

    Lady Celia is, then, to be brought into our little game. Muriel, as usual, has confided all in me. The lady is fit for tickling-up, she says, and then will be put to Phillip in a manner that she has refused her husband to this date. He will fill her plentifully in a few days, has not been allowed to eject his sperm and must contain himself for the event. Roger does not know this part of it as yet, though his dear wife will be returned to him perfectly whole, though with a very creamy hole! Meanwhile, Daisy, too, is to receive. We have worked it out between us, or I say we have-but dear Muriel says it was all her idea. I shall not say her nay to that; she always likes to have the upper hand.


    Muriel's Day-Book

    I have sometimes thought of myself that I am 'too many people' and have too many mixed desires. I have not said this to Jane or she might think me strange. Roger is at one moment one into whose arms I wish to fall for ever-yet at another I would have him in part at least as Phillip is. Let the wind take me, though, I do not care. It was I who suggested to him the seduction:-if such it may be called at her age-of his wife. A fair creature she is and fit for greater pleasures than she has so far permitted to herself. As to Sylvia, I perhaps feel both resentment and jealousy at Roger's desiring of her when I would have thought I might have found excitement in the act.

    Daisy looks prettier and fresher to my eyes each time I see her, though Roger appears confounded by my mentioning of her in the acts of love. I know not why save that he perhaps wishes to appear more virtuous than he is-or is it I who have unfolded his true character? I believed him shy at first, but one can never tell. I am thought to be most proper among those who do not know me well-which is as it should be, and this I always impress upon the girls. They take me seriously-I know they do. Such a sweet flush comes upon their cheeks when their titties and their pussies are caressed. If anything, Daisy's nest is the slightly more plump of the two and is ready for a joust.

    I shall have Celia tomorrow and trust that she is as fair unclothed as she appears in those expensive dresses that she wears. She is more susceptible than she believes herself to be. I shall much enjoy putting her up to Phillip. If it is needful to birch her first, I shall, but I do not think it will be. He is sufficiently well-trained to get his prick into her bottom smoothly now. It will do her a world of good, and will teach him, too, that there are such rewards for true obedience.


    Daisy's Day-Book

    Aunty Muriel went to see Mama today. I believe they are going to be good friends. I hope so. I thought we were simply to collect her, but Papa then took me back, to my delight. However, it was not quite as I thought, for Aunt Jane was VERY naughty and said that as the house was quiet we could show our garters if we wished, and this said before Papa, and I did not know where to look and nor did Sylvia!

    Papa said to let us be and said he wished to see the stable again with Aunt Jane, although I think it is very dull in there and rather like an old chapel. It smells of straw and horse manure.

    'No, my dear, sometimes young ladies must do as they are required to', Aunt Jane said, or something like that she said, for I did not know where to put my eyes and ears, as we say. Well then, she said we might take our dresses off and made us stand up side by side. Papa said he would go out if we did, but he did not seem to know what to do. I do not know where Mr. Mansfield was. It was very quiet, and Rose was not there. Aunt Jane said we must do it and unbuttoned us both. I really wanted to hold hands with Sylvia and my face was red. To take our dresses off we both had to bend forward and I could not see Papa then and was glad of that, for I only had my chemise and stockings on, like Sylvia. Mama does not know that I do not wear drawers now.

    Both our dresses tumbled on the floor, but when I straightened up I saw that Papa had gone out. He was in the garden and often turned his back on us but sometimes he looked through the window. We were not quick enough, said Aunt Jane, and had to take our chemises off as well! Oh horror to stand naked in our stockings and shoes! Papa looked again through the window, but only for a minute. Aunt Jane was DIPPY for she called to him that we wished to speak to him. He did not come at first, so again she called and then he returned, but stared at the carpet. He did not look up and asked what we wished to say. Oh, we covered our feces and could not speak!

    Aunt Jane tutted and said we were being silly, but even so that we might all kiss and so make-up, though none of us had had a breeze. I wished to hide my front and so did Sylvia and so we turned and kissed each other. Aunt Jane said then to Papa to feel our bottoms and how nice and warm they were. I believe he did not wish to, but she made him do. Sylvia and I pressed together and giggled when he did. I felt his hand go underneath, but then he moved it quick away and went out of the room again.

    Aunt Jane said then to us to dress and went off after him. I believe they walked around the stable, for we did not see them for almost an hour, and there was straw on Aunt Jane's skirt so I supposed she must have fallen down.

    Papa kissed me in the carriage going home and said I was a good girl, and I sat upon his lap again. I did not wish to take my dress and chemise off, I said, but Aunt Jane had made me, though I said also it was by way of jollity, for such is the correct phrase for such things. She told me so. Suddenly a boldness came over me and I prayed him not to tell Mama that I was not wearing any drawers. Papa laughed at that, amid much kissing of my lips, and said that he could not in any case, for then it would be thought he had lifted up my dress. I very really blushed at that! How silly it did not occur to me. I hid my face and the carriage jogged us on, I bouncing up and down upon his lap and something very hard beneath me, too.

    Then Papa asked, if he had seen me once, might he again? Oh how I blushed and hid my face the more, but then he did a funny thing and licked his tongue into my ear which made me wriggle, and asked again until I said he might if Mama were not there. At that he felt my breasts again and said they were quite swollen up. Did it feel nice, he asked, and I said yes. I felt all funny everywhere. My bottom jogged upon the hard thing underneath and Papa made some funny sounds. I leaned back and he kissed my titties through my dress!

    Mama was in bed when we got home. I think she has a fever, for she looked so flushed. Aunt Muriel was buttoning up her dress and must have changed her clothes perhaps. She gave me a sweet smile and oh a big, big kiss and then she looked at Papa and said that he must see to me properly that night. I do not know what she meant by that. I think she really meant Mama, because she has a fever. She did not come down to dinner, anyway.


    Lady Celia's Day-Book

    O love, O lips, O wanton hands! I cannot believe what I have done, nor how sweet and insistent Muriel was. What lewdness did I entertain! I can scarce face my reflection in the mirror now. Her tongue was long and supple in my mouth. I thought us but to kiss, but she disrobed and had me do the same, despite all protestations that I made.

    'Dearest, we are to have each other now. Your husband will not interfere', she said. How could she know? I wished to ask her that, but like a tigress, a devouring angel was she on my love-betraying form, my nipples stiff against her own, her belly working sleekly over mine until our love potions mingled in a flood and we lay panting in the aftermath.

    I thought it done and that the dream was o'er. She told me then to swing my legs from off the bed. I thought us to get up, though dizzy was my head and stark with wickedness the brown tips of my breasts-my 'coral swellings', as she said. Upon my moving, though, she knelt beside the bed and lifted up my legs and… Oh! how dare I write of that, how dare! Her long tongue flickered where no mouth has ever been. I sighed, I moaned, could not contain myself. I have always thought that when orgasmic bliss has seized one and the juice is spilled, then all is done. It is not so for women, as she taught me then. Thrice more I spurted love's rain in her mouth, and then her lips came up to savage mine, our breasts a-bounce together; all was love. I swam in ecstasy, as Muriel avowed she did as well. We lay like two does, panting in the aftermath, our bushes sticky, kissing quim to quim-and I who never thought to use such words play with diem now like trinkets of desire.

    Roger was sweet to me, besides. 'Did you enjoy?', he asked, and that was all he asked. I nodded but I could not speak. I held his prick. He toyed with both my slit and with my bottomhole. I did not jerk, but even so I would not let him put it in me there, between my bottom cheeks, could not. 'Before the month is out you shall', he said. I know not what he meant by that. I was a lost woman, I said, for I felt a guilt, though he did not obtain any jealousy of Muriel as was evident from his soft words. He wished to ask me much, I know, but could not bring himself to do, and for myself I was-and am-too shy to speak. How unselfishly he has acted in the course of this astonishing event.

    'I shall not do it again', I said, but hid my face, knew it to be a lie and felt an awful conscience over me. But even that he understood-the kind, dear, understanding man he is.

    'Never say never, Celia', he said as he stroked my bottom lovingly. I knew not what to answer, so pretended sleep. I never knew myself before to be married to such an angel of a man.


    Sir Roger's Day-Book

    Dearest Celia, I will not have her undone in any wise, but only pleasured, and have told Muriel so.

    'You shall have her bottom soon enough, if that is what you want', she said, and gave me a quite jealous look! I assured her that her own-bold and bumptious as it is and smooth as cream-was enough to satisfy any man, which much appeased her. How she pants when it is put up there-she bucks and whinnies like a mare while my prick soothes in-between her ardent hemispheres.

    She and Jane converse together of the most intimate things, I fear. Were it not for that my fondness as to Muriel would grow, I think. 'Is not Daisy nice and curly in-between her thighs?', she asked. I said I had not looked, nor would. 'Oh, pouf, you felt their bottoms did you not?', she asked. I thought that indiscreet, but merely shook my head. I suspect she sensed an indiscretion then. I wished to ask if she had put her finger into Celia's bottom, but that would have been a caddish thing to ask. I marvel at my own terms of morality, and yet one can only be oneself.

    I must speak to Daisy, for I fear the sisters' tongues. My resolution to have Jane and that sweet Sylvia as well has diminished slightly in the light of this, yet I am drawn to them in the same wise as Celia is to Muriel.

    'You can have both of us together soon', said Muriel. I took offence at that and told her I would say so if I wished it to be so. Again she looked downcast. Her tongue does run away with her sometimes. She means no malice, that's the thing of it. I told her that I knew that well, and so excused her in a way. She sighed and lay within my arms.

    'We two will always be both combatants and allies, dear', she said.

    I thought that very true and praised her for her words.

    'Oho, you like some things I say!', she laughed. She can be quite irresistible at times.

    Daisy's Day-Book

    If anyone asks me if Papa has kissed me on the lips, I am to swear that he has not. Papa has lectured me most solemnly on that. We had a SECRET MEETING in my room! I would not tell anyone in the whole world, I said, and that is true. Suppose you were spanked and made to say, he said. I would not even tell an ANGEL, I replied. It made him laugh. 'Then do not tell yourself, for you are one, my pet', he said. He seemed more jolly then-had had an anxious look before. I only had my nightgown on. He made to put his arms around me, but then he stopped and suddenly went out. I was very vexed. I'm sure he does not believe me after all.


    CHAPTER TWELVE

    Eveline's Day-Book

    Listening to Deirdre's tale, one would think that the end of the world had come, though she made far more fuss of it than I suspect she really feels. Her need to unburden was greater than her need to receive 'grace', which I certainly was not going to accord her, as I said.

    Did I not think it was wicked beyond belief, she asked. Fairly obviously she did not wish me to say yes to that. I explained to her-if explaining was ever needed-that she must bring herself to regard it as a libertine adventure of entirely impulsive origins. I confess I was rather pleased with that phrase, for I am sure she expected something much more open and unladylike.

    Would she like me to deal with Master Richard? Her eyes lit up. Or was there a mite of anxiety in diem at the same time? I impressed upon her that she need not be present, and that what I have in mind for him will but serve to teach him a lesson in the most knowledgeable way. Well, she has agreed. I am not to tell Maurice, she said, but 'Come, come', I replied, for if we are not libertarians then what are we? She became a little weepy- from love rather than remorse, I do believe. I had half intended confessing the truth to her about Claudia, but in the light of Deirdre's evidently mixed emotions decided against it. After all, the extremely naughty thought crosses my mind (not to say Maurice's as well) that there is yet Amy to be breached. We have yet to meet her, but from her mother's description, she sounds charmingly suitable for such conversions to our cause that we EX) like to bring about.

    Perhaps I should tell Claudia more about Deirdre. It is all getting to be quite an intriguing mix-up. There are distinct possibilities here, as Maurice avers, for of course I have told him all.


    Richard's Day-Book

    I am still in disgrace and must, I suppose, expect to be. I feel sure that if the worst had happened and Mama had gone to Jeremy's house, that I would have heard about it. I am to take some package or other to a lady she has met. Those are the only words Mama has spoken to me. I just said that I would and looked at her very pleadingly, but her eyes are as cold as ever. Amy asked me what was the matter and I told her to shut up. She is getting very bumptious and, I think, restless. She said to me that she hoped I hadn't 'done anything wrong' to Mama, and I asked her what she meant. I am afeared she has heard something. Jeremy was stupid. Amy said to me in reply that she knows all about these things but I don't think she does. I don't think anyone has even felt up her skirt Her bum seems to have got a bit bigger. I told her so and she went red and rushed into her room and slammed the door. I bet she pulled up her skirts and had a look.

    I heard mother say to her, 'You will be birched if you say things like that about your brother, Amy'. Perhaps Mama does not really think so bad of me as she makes out. I wish I knew. She will not allow me take the pony and trap to deliver the package. I shall have to travel on a horse bus with common people.


    Amy's Day-Book

    Richard went to deliver a package to a lady friend of Mama's, and he hasn't come back! I asked Mama if she were not worried. Mama said he was in good hands and would be looked after. I did not know he had not returned until I woke up this morning. This afternoon a gentleman called Maurice visited. I thought he was quite nice. He said that Richard was behaving himself. Well, that will make a change. I know he has been kissing Mama, but I am not going to say my other thoughts for I shall be told I am wicked.

    Maurice-I thought his name was Mr. Maurice at first and apologised for calling him that. He said he did not mind, and when Mama was out of the room he said I am a very attractive girl! I think Jeremy liked me in the same way, too, but Mama will not hear HIS name spoken, and I cannot understand why. She says he was impolite to her. This was said while Maurice was listening, and when Mama was upstairs he told me that kissing and cuddling is sometimes thought impolite and asked me if I thought so.

    I said I did not think so. I was blushing! He said he was pleased I was a sensible girl and that I was much like Mama in that respect. Very suddenly then he KISSED me and said 'Oh, you have a nice bottom, but do not tell your Mama I said so', and he put his hand there! I felt shy to move and did not know what to do. He said he could feel I had nice drawers on and did I always wear them. I did not know how to answer. He said I need not always, for they encumber young ladies. I felt very much a silly-head for not being able to speak. I thought it was rude for him to keep touching me there, but at the same time I thought it was rude if I said so.

    By the time Mama returned downstairs, he had sat down again, and my bottom felt tingly as if his hand were still there. Mama excused herself and said she had a bad headache, so Maurice offered to take me for a drive. Mama did not seem sure about that. I think she was a bit jealous. She said I could go for an hour. I did not know whether I wanted to or not, but I like going out.

    Maurice drove the pony trap himself and we went all along the lanes at such a pace that I was breathless and my bonnet nearly flew off. Then we stopped on the verge of a little woodland. It was very pleasant among the trees. He tethered the pony and we had a little walk. I was very much praised for my conversation and my deportment. We sat down under an oak and he said my mouth and my eyes are very lovely! Then he made a joke and said he wished to be 'impolite' and kiss me and feel my bottom again! I wanted to say no that time, but he would not let me and smothered me with kisses, saying I was rapturous!

    Mama would the if she knew he felt up under my skirt. I did not wish him to and struggled a bit, but he became stem and said to me to be still. He said he wished to feel my bottom through my drawers, which he did, all round and everywhere. I felt very strange because his finger was in-between the halves of my bottom and rubbed me gently there. He said that if I stopped struggling it would be nice and that all mamas wished their daughters to learn it so, but always left it to gentlemen to teach them.

    I could hardly speak because he was kissing me and FEELING me so much, even in-between my legs! 'Oh no!', I said.-'Oh yes, my dear, for this is what you have to learn', said he. I thought of Mama and what she would think and said he mustn't do, or I would tell.

    'Ah no, for then you would be most utterly and completely indiscreet and everyone will learn of it, which is to say your indiscretion. You would be scorned for that', he said.

    I half believed him, half did not. Oh, what a tizzy I was in! Seeing my doubts, and my hand feebly thrusting at his own, he suddenly sat up and leaned against the tree and said I was not nice to him at all, which much confused me further, all in all.

    I, too, sat up and began to smooth my dress. In a trice, however, he had placed his arm about the back of my shoulders arid made me to lie face down across his knees. Oh goodness, then he pulled my dress right up and smacked and smacked my knickered bottom till I sobbed for him to cease, so red-hot did it feel. Real tears rolled down my cheeks. My bottom felt in flames!

    'Sit up and learn that you have to obey your elders', then he said, and I still blubbering the while and not fit to sit upon my poor scorched bottom, but he made me do, then brought me to lean into him, spoke to me softly, helped to dry my tears. I was a young lady now, he said, and must do as all young ladies do, and if I told Mama how I had struggled she would laugh and say I was a baby still.

    He fondled my titties as he spoke and I had to let him kiss my lips again. I wriggled all the time, though, while he did, because my bottom stung. I promised in the end I would not tell Mama. He said that all would scorn me if I did, and that everyone would remember it.

    When we returned Mama said my eyes were a little red, but I told her that was because I had laughed so much and rubbed them. She was very pleased I had enjoyed myself, she said. I would have told her all that happened, but perhaps she will say that I am a baby after all. My bottom has got plumper-I am sure it has. I asked Mama if it stuck out. She laughed and said that all young ladies should.


    Sir Roger's Day-Book

    What an odd chap Mansfield is-though it was said to me once that all chaps other than ourselves are odd. In his case, however, I believe it to be true. He has a wan, far look about him, and is most decidedly under the heels of his sisters.

    Upon visiting them today I had little enough conversation with him, and all of it banal. On plea of seeing to his estate accounts, he then disappeared indoors again while I, the lone male among the females, enjoyed the sun and desultory conversation that went on. Muriel asked me whether I could tell Daisy and Sylvia apart in the dark. I knew very well what she meant thereby, or intended me to understand, but I replied jovially enough and said that I could distinguish them even by their toes. Jane, breaking in, asked me as to other parts of their anatomies, whereat I yawned and pretended not to hear. I obtain to the view that there are certain things that may be discussed in bed, or otherwise in a loving embrace, but not when one is sitting apart. A quaint view, perhaps; I am not sure.

    Celia is to visit Muriel tomorrow. She was not unnaturally shy of doing so in my presence. She will not even have me transport her there, but Sylvia will come here via our carriage on its return journey. Indeed, it would be a great pleasure to have her! She has a most kissable mouth. I recall coming upon her and Daisy kissing on the lawn, their skirts much ruffled: a very pretty sylvan scene. No doubt young girls frequently amuse themselves in this way. I have heard a dozen stories and more of housemaids being found bussing one another when they had no man to do so.

    The deuce of it is that I shall know well enough what Celia is at tomorrow and will think of it constantly. It makes a chap feel devilishly randy. Daisy has been a little sulky since my talk with her. I believe I handled it badly and should have put on a better humour rather than indulged myself in such serious vein. It is I who am to blame. I have already passed beyond the bounds of propriety by kissing her often enough and fondling her titties which are delightfully grown and round. Her nipples are responsive, by jove. I suspect they have been subject already to errant caressing by Muriel and Jane. It is no help to me that I tend to think of such and hence tend to get carried away when alone with her.

    Maurice's Day-Book

    What a delight to kiss and fondle a young girl who knows not whether to be pleased with it or not! Amy will prove a perfect subject for such games as we love to indulge in. I believe I had her in the right mood not to say a word to her Mama who in any case is sufficiently indulgent herself not to be able to cast stones.

    Before we returned to the house, I told Amy with jovial lovingness that she has had her first smack-bottom, and may have more. Such confusion in her eyes! She is too shy to reject one's advances completely. Eveline will know how to handle her, and thus we shall progress her. One may anticipate quite a delightful future with such a nubile young subject. Provided one is sufficiently strict with her in moments of potential rebellion on her part, she will learn to yield.


    Eveline's Day-Book

    I must say that young Richard is a fine-looking youth and-as to be expected-charmingly awkward in my presence. He believed himself to be merely running an errand, on which however he was quickly disabused. Telling him that I had something to show him-which put him into much mystification-I led him up to the bedroom which is set aside for certain diversions and which even Maurice does not venture to enter, for I have made it my own domain.

    There Claudia awaited, and in such attire, or lack of it, as caused Richard to gawp and his cheeks to assume a deep shade of pink. The basque that Claudia wore was black and trimmed with fine lace, the top flirting with her nipples, which are deliciously poky, and the bottom leaving her bush bared-or rather, it would have done had she not been wearing black silk drawers which matched her stockings. Black boots buttoned up to just below her knees completed as bewitching and commanding a picture of voluptuous femininity as one could hope to see.

    While Richard continued to gawp, and Claudia rose from the single bed upon which she had been lounging, I locked the door. The sound thereof caused him to turn his head sharply while I maintained my 'cool look', as Maurice is pleased to call it.

    'This is the one, then? Is he well-equipped?', Claudia asked, I having coached her well in all that was to pass.

    This indeed was the miscreant, I replied. At that, something resembling a choked gurgle came from Richard whose legs trembled visibly. As to his being sufficiently well-equipped to be able to present himself properly to the most demanding of ladies, said I, we were about to discover.

    Claudia then advanced upon him, swaying her hips until her belly all but touched his own while I went forward to his rear and clasped my arms about his waist which is of almost girlishly slim proportions. Had he but had his wits about him he would have realised that he was thus placed in the same position as the unwitting Deirdre had been.

    'You will not speak nor raise protest or your Mama shall hear of it', I said.

    'Oh, Madam, what are you at?', he gasped, for thereupon Claudia proceeded with fingers well-practised in such a task to undo all his buttons. Resultantly his trousers subsided to his ankles, his shirt being raised up and his penis and testicles bared for our attention. During this rapid process, I maintained one arm about his person while taking a firm grip on the back of his hair, which naturally caused him to yelp in surprise-and to utter pleas for mercy, indeed!

    'Be quiet, you young brute, you are in training', Claudia hissed at him, and this leaving him quite dumbstruck, for at the same time she so expertly handled his cock that it rose in a trice to quite fine proportions. Indeed, I did have the passing thought that dear Deirdre has little to complain about.

    'I have him; use the bottle', I told Claudia. It was unnecessary for me to so say, since she already knew our little plot, but needful for Master Richard to have two determined feminine voices at his ears.

    'No!', came a whine from him, for she then turned and picked up a glass flask from the small cabinet at the foot of the bed. The mouth of the flask has a flare to it, the rim curving outwards, and has previously been used for such a task to which it was then to be devoted. To a cry from Richard, upon whose hair I maintained a painful tugging, the neck of the flask was slipped over the bulbous head of his aroused penis and the fleshy shaft sunk therein, leaving just sufficient of the base of his prick to be deftly fingered by Claudia.

    Master Richard's knees yielded and quivered as she then began to frig him. The flask, being 'waisted' towards its centre, creates a partial vacuum within which draws upon the crest of a stiff penis and urges out the sperm.

    His posture was, for him, awkward in the extreme, for I had by then pressed one knee into the back of his own and so kept him at balance and quite unable to resist Claudia's determined attentions. I doubt that three-quarters of a minute passed before he yielded his manhood and sprang some fine jets of come into the bottle where they formed a greyish pool. At that moment, of course, Richard was at his weakest and I had little difficulty in manacling his wrists behind him.

    It was Claudia who held his hair in this brief process while maintaining the bottle well over his cock, though by then it had expelled its last spurts.

    Stricken cries came from him upon our then forcing him down on his back on the bed where his legs hung limp over the sides and the flask tilted at an angle to his slowly diminishing cock.

    'Mama!', he bleated wildly, to our mutual amusement.

    'Your dear Mama would never wish to see such a dismal sight', said I, 'And heaven forfend that she ever should'. Then, turning to Claudia, I added for his benefit, 'His penis clearly needs exercising regularly. He must do better than this. What a feeble performance! Pray, dear, will you see to him upon the hour, each hour?'

    'It will be my distinct pleasure. The rapscallion must surely have more in his balls than this or he will be no use to any of us. Why, I have a deerhound that can produce more!', Claudia jeered while Richard paled and flushed by turns and looked exactly like a maiden whose drawers have been taken down for the first time and, under inspection, knows not where to look.

    'An hour then. I will leave him in your hands. He may be fed bread and milk, but nothing else. See to it that you perform better next time!', I told Richard sharply. 'Have him attend to toilet duties as well', I added in an equally severe tone to Claudia whose gaze was as unblinking as my own.

    To that purpose I shall put a collar and lead on him and have him crawl to the water-closet behind me', she said, and gave him a little kick on his ankles as though to emphasize the point, and this bringing a croaking plea from Richard to be 'allowed to go home'.

    'You will be allowed only that which we desire', was my response and thereupon-having pointedly consulted a small clock on the cabinet-we left him to such a maze of thoughts as he must have found himself lost within: a captive in the house of strange, voluptuous females!

    Four times today has he been milked of his sperm. Seemingly he could do no better than that and will sleep- still manacled-in an utterly weakened state. This, however, is but a beginning for Master Richard. I have always adhered to the view that a young male may become as much of a plaything for older females that a maiden sometimes does for her male elders. Maurice treads quietly past the door behind which I have Richard incarcerated and does not wish to see him. It is a little private business of my own, says he, and quite rightly. I allowed him to fete Claudia in bed tonight. She is always so sensuously wriggly between the pair of us.

    As to Amy, Maurice has told me all. He is minded that I should take her in hand and prepare her for the sacrifice. I think not. I have Richard to attend to, not to say Deirdre. My hands are full in the most pleasant of ways. It would do well for Amy to be in the solemn presence of gentlemen only-a treat she will otherwise never have. I must say that Maurice looked rather pleased that I 'permit' that! Besides, it means that we need not have Amy here, for the time being at least, and this will avoid complications with Deirdre.

    I may drop a hint to Deirdre that Amy must not be entirely neglected and, indeed, would be well to be 'diverted' in respect of naughty Richard's behaviour. Putting this to her as I shall, I believe she will allow herself to be convinced and may well be secretly comforted to have the otherwise difficult matter taken out of her hands.

    We shall see!


    CHAPTER THIRTEEN

    Phillip's Day-Book

    I am surrounded by that darkness into which I have allowed myself to be led. Dear Sylvia is to spend some time with her friend Daisy, for which I am grateful. Her eyes question me frequently, and I have naught to say that could be of comfort to her. The dread I have that she may discover my undoing causes me to relinquish myself more and more into the hands of Muriel and Jane.

    A moment of extreme discomfort in every sense came upon me last evening when Sylvia ventured into my study to bid me good night Her aunts had told her, she said, that my novel was progressing. The dear child appeared to have nothing else to say, and I did not doubt that my sisters had put her up to that remark. My desk being covered with paper on which I have endeavoured-though with little success-to ameliorate the wicked desires of Muriel and Jane, Sylvia perched herself lovingly on my lap and made attempt to peer at them, as if to express an interest in my work which she would not otherwise have.

    Being unprepared for such, I made haste to cover them, which much put her out, and I endeavouring to explain that nothing was sufficiently good to be read yet.

    “Well, Papa, they say you are a good writer, anyway', Sylvia said proudly, not having-to my relief-the forwardness to turn the papers over again to her view, though she looked a mite disappointed at my apparent secrecy. I was therefore put to the ludicrous exercise of explaining that I wanted her to read only the best I had written. This appeared to please her, for it gave upon her the role of a severe critic. What a ludicrous and shaming state of affairs! Moreover, she wriggled in her girlish way upon my lap all the time we were speaking, and in a manner that caused me some physical alarm. Her attire beneath her dresses is nowadays minimal and hence the warmth and roundness of her bottom exudes through the material.

    At the same time I could not bring myself to push her off my lap, which brought me into severe physical embarrassment which I was afraid she could not fail to notice under her derriere. Nor could I retract my person from under her in the undue state of arousal to which I was in all innocence on her part being put.

    It was then that Muriel intruded, telling Sylvia that she must hasten to bed and get her 'beauty sleep', as the foolish saying is. One last moist kiss from Sylvia's lips fell upon my own and then she scrambled off my lap, causing me to 'prong' visibly against her rising bottom cheeks. I flushed heavily, but fortunately she did not turn. Scarce had the door closed upon her, than Muriel cast her eyes down pointedly at my hapless state and declared her 'pleasure' that I 'have such a stiff attitude towards females'.

    I replied not. I gritted my teeth and would have crossed my legs had my projection not been too painful for the task. I was then ordered to 'display' to her which I did, though in fear of Sylvia returning and seeing my near-bursting weapon. (I writhe to think that I shall be 'congratulated' by one or the other of my sisters on writing this).

    My stiff cock was then handled gently and in the most fearfully exciting way. There are times-too many now- when one is forced beyond the barriers of pride and shame. Muriel leaned over my chair, her hand clasping my penis and rubbing up and down.

    'Shall you come at a venture?', she laughed, thinking that a fine literary pun.

    I shook my head. My cheeks were suffused. I knew veil enough that in such moments now I am utterly weak in her hands. My hips began to jerk despite myself.

    Poor, dear Sylvia-being made to sit upon his naughty big thing, I was told.

    'No!', I choked.

    Thereat she laughed her cruel laugh and, taking a ambric handkerchief from the neck of her dress, wrapped id tied it tightly about my quivering erection.

    'No? Very well, I shall leave it in this state, and I shall return in half an hour to make sure you have not messed into it', came her reply. She then swept out, leaving me bereft and with my testicles swollen with desire. Even as she closed the door I heard her calling down, 'Jane, there is something I wish to tell you'.

    I had no need to try to guess what that might be. My name and dear Sylvia's would be used in the most untrue fashion. It was then, alas, that-my balls compressed on the chair and my prick having reached such a point of imminent effusion that it would not control itself-I spouted thickly into the enfolding handkerchief. The seat of my chair juddered beneath me, so violent was the spermatic explosion. Come dribbled back down my penis. Waves of exquisite pleasure were followed by a surging weakness amid which I knew to my horror that punishment was about to fell on me when Muriel returned. She would-and did-exult in my 'weakness' and 'the proof of her words'. I am a libertine who must be kept under control-so she and Jane proclaim, even though they know the truth of the matter.

    Deirdre has not replied to my letter as yet, though still I live in hope. She was an angel of modesty compared with these. I care not that my sisters will read these words. They will chide me for the hypocrite that I am not, then make me lick their bottoms like a dog.


    Celia's Day-Book

    Through what an ordeal of explosive passions I have passed! I have cried, I have protested, I have loved, endured-and all this in one long, long day the like of which I never knew before.

    Muriel cozened me at first with all her loving skills. Her tongue, her breasts, her thighs, her bottom, all were mine, as mine were hers. Naked we lay abed and cared not for the world. Our tongues entwined, our fingers sought. Several times she rummaged my nether hole and I protesting weakly that I did not like it there.

    I must learn, said she, and this amid such flurryings of kissings, such rollings about upon the bed, that I could not bring myself to say nay to her.

    'Let me give you the feuille de rose', she breathed. Not knowing what she meant I allowed myself to be manouevred up on to my knees, whereat she slid down behind me and lovingly applied the curled tip of her tongue between my bottom cheeks. Oh, the sensation!

    'Stop! It is too nice!', I uttered incautiously, to which she replied, 'Of course, my sweet, but you have even better to learn'.

    At that, a footfall was heard beyond the door and I made to start up, but Muriel was in truth upon me like lightning, first straddling my back and then quickly reversing herself upon it so that she faced towards my hips and pulled them up anew by main force of her arms. To my horror I then perceived the entry of a gentleman, totally naked and with his penis erect. Worse, he was not alone, nor was the manner of his entry any other than the strangest I have ever seen.

    About his neck was a thick leather collar from which extended a steel chain, the free end of it being held in the hand of Muriel's sister who was garbed in but a filmy peignoir which, floating open, revealed her breasts and her dark bush.

    'Quickly!', she rapped at him. He appeared to be in a daze, much as I was myself at this turn of events. As for myself I bucked and endeavoured to throw Muriel off, much like a fretsome filly might, but the weight of her bottom on my back prevented the venture.

    'Do not let him!', I screeched to no avail, for already he was taking postillion on the bed immediately behind me and-being commanded to by Jane-he assisted in raising my hips the more so that my shameless bottom was fully presented to him.

    'I have oiled her bottom with my saliva just as you have his cock, dear-now put him to her. Her hole will be tight, for it has not been ventured before this. Monitor him! He has got to pleasure the darling lady thoroughly', Muriel uttered.

    'No!', I screeched, but already all was too late. The cheeks of my derriere were rudely parted. The crest of his penis, which was indeed moist, dared to assail me there. I cried, I pleaded, to no avail. If anything, Muriel took the saddle even more firmly, resting her knees on the bed on either side of me while my hapless bottom-receiving the first inch of his thick, fleshy pole-was held firmly.

    Oh dear god, the sensations that came upon me with the entry of a man's prick into my most secret orifice! I felt at first a burning sensation. It was like receiving a cork-a long and much swollen cork. I heard him grunting. Three inches of pulsing desire embedded themselves and so held for a moment, 'that she might accommodate to it', said Jane who clearly exerted a strange control over the gentleman-if I can call him such.

    'Work your prick back and forth a little-just a mite- then slowly give her more', Jane uttered while I moaned, closed my eyes and clenched my teeth at this rude, lewd invasion.

    His cock moved back and forth an inch or two and indeed thankfully eased my passage a little so that the stinging sensation blurred and vanished. I felt curiously filled, plugged, yet it was nothing in comparison with what I endured as that erect penis then burrowed deeper, and I moaning out for it not to.

    'Almost there!', Muriel exulted, leaning forward, as I felt her do, and having a prime view from above.

    The male uttered some solemn imprecation that I did not catch. He was breathing heavily, as I myself began to. I felt his balls come to nestle under my sticky slit and knew him to be fully home, whereat he was told by Jane to 'hold' again while I endured the throbbings of his sheathed weapon which seemed to me to have so magically expanded my bottomhole.

    'Now-work her slowly, for she is a divine creature whom you are not fit otherwise to touch', came from Jane.

    As for myself I could have said nothing then. The total entry of his prick seemed to have driven all the breath from my body, though that was to be only a momentary feeling. After a seemingly endless moment of 'burying', he commenced slowly slewing it back and forth while I bit upon my knuckles at the sweet-surging sensation which I found to be utterly different and more lewd in feeling than having my cunny sluiced.

    Our moans mingled. 'Work your hips gently back and forth, dearest', Muriel instructed me and gave my left buttock a little pinch to urge me on. I do not recall uttering any coherent words-only sounds and small cries which she afterwards averred were among the prettiest she had ever heard. To my shame I knew that I was beginning to surrender to the wicked act and to the ever-changing sensations it wrought in me.

    A long, long minute of such slow pistoning passed the while that my bottomhole drew on his cock, for I could no longer help myself. Then an 'order' (I can call it no less) emanated from Jane, whereat he began to pump me with rather more rapid strokes, causing my bottom to smack against his belly as the cork surged back and forth.

    Muriel thereupon unsaddled herself and slewed half beneath me, bringing her luscious mouth under mine.

    'Enjoy!', she husked into my mouth. For a moment I fought between pretending prolonged dismay and the pleasure that had begun to steal into me. My breath puffed into her mouth, my bottom wriggled. Once more the sleek twirlings of her tongue invited reciprocating movement from my own. The male himself panted louder, enjoining Jane to say to him, 'Not too soon!'

    'Goooo!', I choked. In my own mind I uttered the most foolish of sounds, however well received they were by Muriel who fondled my dangling breasts at the same time and poured a heat of passion into my mouth so that I did not doubt the sincerity on her part that I should be pleasured and not, as I had first thought, but rudely assaulted.

    My cunny tingled. It had done for some moments passed but then I became more aware of it. Muriel's hand reached blindly down under my belly, found my curls, and then my spot. No sooner had her fingertip circled it than I spurted a fine rain of lovejuice.

    'Let him come now!', she uttered from beneath me.

    At that a deep gurgling sound came from the gentleman.

    'She is to receive every drop!', I heard Jane say, and at that he quivered mightily, drew my bottom cheeks deep into his stomach and loosed such a thick, warm flood such as I have never even known Roger to produce in my cunny. Ah yes… I have to confess that the feeling was delicious. It is true, as Jane said, that one can feel the injection of the male juices better there than in their 'proper' place. I felt every jet, every spurt, every renewal of the long-threading, thick sperm until at the very last his pearly drops oozed into my tight orifice while he breathed above me as one who had run a long race.

    'Out very slowly!', Jane commanded him, and as he obeyed, withdrawing inch by inch, so I felt the loss, the emptiness in my well-flooded bottom. The knob slipped without and I slumped, feeling his warm juices bubbling within in the most delicious fashion. I hid my flushed face, and my breasts wobbled as Muriel slipped out from under me and brought me to face her.

    'You see how nice it is!', she smiled.

    I knew not what to utter first. 'Who?', I asked stupidly, squeezing my ardent nether cheeks together as the sensations continued pulsing within.

    'It does not matter, my love, so long as you have enjoyed. Believe me, that was my sole intent. Let Roger be the future benefactor thereof. Offer your bottom to him henceforth and double your pleasures-as you may also do with other gentlemen I may introduce to you'.

    'But you are making me into a wanton!', I protested.

    'A wanton, indeed? What nonsense is that? It is a word coined by the prudish. It does not obtain to reality. Life is brief-enjoy it as you will, and let us have no truck with petty thoughts of the small-minded. You will carry home with you the most wondrous memories of pleasure such as I shall also hold. Much as I adore you, there are times when I wish you to be compliant, Celia, as a woman must be on occasion. Do you understand?'

    She rolled upon me as she spoke and pinned me under her. The tip of her tongue coursed around the shape of my lips. Her stiff nipples stung my own.

    'Yes, but…', I began weakly, at which she threw back her unpinned hair with a twist of her neck and but laughed at me lovingly.

    There are no buts, my sweet, only pleasure. I shall lead you to more. Trust me!'

    'I want to, but I dare not', I replied, yet my eyes were as easily read as was my mind. Whatever else may have been said diffused itself in more prolonged kisses. Once more I spurted to her gentle rubbings and fell into a peaceful passivity, a dreamlike state in which I knew myself to be both lost and found.

    As to my return, I found Roger pensive and feared that some change of mind would bring him to upbraid me. My fears were soon dispelled, however. Yet, guilt-ridden as I was, I sought to unburden myself by confessing fully all that had occurred, much as I knew that could incur his wrath. No sooner had I used the word 'confess', however, than he put his finger against my lips.

    'Here is not a Court of Justice but a home of love; you have nothing to confess', he said. Even so, and sweet as were his words, I felt I could not hide from him that which I had virtually allowed to happen and which I had refused him for years.

    'But dearest, I must tell you.' I began.

    'No, you may not, Celia, for once a cupboard is opened, too much may tumble out. Is that not so? Have we not all something to confess? And shall we profit from so doing?'

    I fell silent in his fond embrace. After such words, he can do no wrong in my eyes. The temptation-exceedingly strong to my surprise-fell upon me to invite his prick between my nether cheeks, yet by so doing, at such a time, I would in other ways be confessing. That passion will eventually tempt him to take me in that wise, I know. Let the moment come as it may. I shall not refuse him. Indeed I shall welcome the brute entry of his penis there- so unexpectedly have I become converted. If I have a confession to make to myself then it is that my bottom cheeks now squeeze pleasurably at the thought.


    CHAPTER FOURTEEN

    Sylvia's Day-Book

    Daisy's Papa is so nice! I think she is naughtier than I am, or-Aunty Muriel would say-'more lively', though she says it with a twinkle in her eye. We had very happy hours at Daisy's house, especially as her Mama was not there to tell us to be quiet! We giggled a lot and talked about naughty things. I told her that Papa has a very big key in his pocket. 'Oh, you sillikins, that is not a key', she began when her Papa entered her bedroom to ask if we wanted some lemonade.

    We clapped our hands and said yes, and he was so kind that he brought us a glass each himself, then asked, 'What is not a key?'. Oh, I blushed and so did Daisy. He seemed very amused at us and asked again, for he thought it was a riddle.

    'Well, Papa, not all things that go into small holes are keys, are they?', she replied, whereat we both fell to giggling into our lemonade. Her Papa appeared a little stern at that. I believe he thought her flippant and rude. As to that he did not know, he said, and thereupon left us. Daisy was much put out, or really I should say dismayed and was all of a-tremble when I left lest she was to receive a spanking. I was glad that her Papa did not escort me home, but had a servant do so, for I feared he might ask me things I would find it MOST difficult to answer.

    I do know what Daisy meant. I only said it was a key to provoke her, I think. I like to talk naughtily. Aunt Muriel says it does no harm provided we take care of ourselves and do not let strange men invade the privacies beneath our skirts. She says that Papa is shy to kiss me goodnight, which I do believe, and that it is right I should sit on his lap. It felt ever so BIG under my bottom. I did not want to wriggle, but I did a little bit. Aunt Muriel came into bed with me afterwards and said I would stiffen up a statue! She and Aunty Jane always make me come with their tongues, and I like it. I feel ever so luxurious! They say it is the right feeling to have. Sometimes I lick Aunty Jane's while Aunty Muriel is licking mine. It is such a mix-up of legs. I think it's lovely.

    Aunty Muriel says I now need a cock up my bottom while she is tonguing me! I am sure it would be too big to go up there, but she says not. I cannot imagine who would do that to me or if I would like it. Aunty Jane said in her very certain way, 'Oh you will like it', but I am not sure.


    Phillip's Day-Book

    I am told I shall have nothing but bread and water unless I write of my incredible experience. I know not even who the lady was. Her bottom was lustrous, plump and firm. To be brought to invade the sanctity of that small hole between the cheeks seemed to me a sacrilege. Led in as I was like a hound, I dared offer no protest that would not have shamed me further. I feared at first that my knob would not enter, yet once past the rim it invaded that sleek and awesomely warm channel with greater ease than I would have thought possible.

    What spell the dear lady was under, I know not, for her initial protests were vehement and full of despair. I felt for her, which is not to put a dire pun upon it. Once but an inch of my penis was embedded in her fundament, there was no retreating for either of us. Her aperture clenched around my penis like a rubber ring, yet even so it yielded to my inexorable urgings. By the time I had enforced a further inch in her bottom, the passage became magically easier. An insensate desire that I wished not to experience came over me at that point. My further entry was invited; I could feel it so. The moments of adjustment (raving been effected, I inserted the plunger to the full and held.

    Oh the quivering of those bulbous cheeks into my belly! I felt the gentle tickling of her pubic hairs at my balls and drew in deep breaths of wonder at the subtle squeezings she effected around my embedded penis. My buttocks were then pinched by Jane and-being commanded to 'effect service'-I began pistoning my pego in and out of that warm and comforting enclosure which gripped me exquisitely with every full entry and at every emergence of my knob to the rim of her hole.

    The dear lady began then to breathe heavily, as did I. It was all I could do to marshall my forces so that I would not expel my juices too soon. The sensation that stole over me was that she had become of a sudden the demanding one-the conquering female-whom I must serve to the best of my humble ability.

    I ground my teeth in an effort to restrain my forces which have become the more excitable the longer I am in the disciplinary hands of my wicked sisters. Yes, indeed, they may read that I have called them that-but laughter will be their only response.

    Upon being permitted to come, I expelled into the very depths of the lady's wriggling fundament more spermatic jets than I have ever known myself to loose forth. The while that I did, her bottomhole sucked greedily upon my foaming tool until every drop was expended, only a mistiness thereof being visible around the gently closing rim as my knob at last drooped its head and brushed her ivory-smooth cheeks in veritable homage.

    Thereupon she sank down with a gratified sigh and hid her face, though I had already caught such glimpses of her in profile as to know her to be a true beauty. Alas, I had but done my duty and was not allowed to savour it, being thereupon led out.

    At the least, I was neither tormented nor chided for my 'exercise', as they call it.

    'Write well and you may even be praised', I am told. Even so, my lip curls with honor at that which has been forced to drip from my pen and whereby I am brought like a serf to earn my dinner. Rose brought it to me. In order to hide my shame, I pretend with her to great busyness all file time, and thus the reason why I so often eat at my desk.

    An interruption, Jane entered and insisted on reading what I have written here. She did so very slowly and, I believe, passed over several passages twice. I waited with a certain trepidation for her verdict. Finally she placed my day-book down and gave me a look of some appraisal.

    'You are a good boy at times; you are much improving, Phillip. We shall have great use for you', were her words to me. Seeing some gravy left upon the plate of my second course, she made me lick it off with my tongue until the plate was clean. How abhorrent!

    I am to learn, says Muriel, to service females, without any form of bondage, must remain utterly silent during my working of them and must retire immediately afterwards unless I am bidden to stay. I am to obey simple and unvarying instructions. Thus 'Tongue one' means that I am to bring my own between a lady's thighs. 'Tongue two' intends that I treat the crevice between the bottom cheeks in like wise. I am given a list which I must study and memorise. 'Mouth number one', is the most hateful I can image. I cannot bring myself to describe it.

    I have written several more letters to Deirdre, but have torn them all up. What is the use? I sometimes fear that I would not know what face to put on should she appear. I am not the same one whom she left, and scarcely know myself.


    Sir Roger's Day-Book

    I was deeply concerned at Daisy's remarks about 'keys', yet found myself having to allay the fears of Celia who has clearly been up to much naughtiness with Muriel and-for all I know-Jane as well. No doubt the other of the voluptuous sisters was to form part of her confession. It is as well I would not listen to it for I may have found myself, in a moment of marital weakness and great confidence, expounding on my own sins. Celia now believes herself to be the less virtuous of we two. I can only gently persuade her that she is not, yet may be casting too much of a burden on her thereby.

    As to Daisy, I fretted much at her indiscretion and while Celia went to bed-no doubt to recall the day's amourous events-I took myself to Daisy's room and found her in her night attire, gaining many glimpses of her slim naked form beneath the cotton by virtue of a lamp that shone behind her. The vista was bewitching. Her hips have a womanly curve already. I was much distracted while she was evidently apprehensive.

    Being stood up at my entrance, she bowed her head, clasped her hands in front of her and looked as innocent as a choirgirl while I lectured her on the dangers of having a loose tongue.

    'I did not mean what you thought, Papa', she complained moodily, but could not look up at me.

    I asked her what she did mean, and there was silence. Her bare toes shuffled uneasily. I said that what she had said to Sylvia she might well say to others.

    'No, I will not. Oh, I wish you to believe me. It was but a remark made in jest, Papa'.

    'What did you intend by it?', I asked. How loosely the words tumbled from my lips, for I was seemingly inviting her to say that which I forbade her to.

    'I was not talking about your… you…', she stumbled and all at once-and no doubt to hide her confusion- flung her arms up about my neck, straining her face up to mine with the most devoted pleading in her eyes.

    Oh, that she had not done so. In a second, and without thought save that she would not feel harassed by me, I returned her embrace and felt the pointed tips of her breasts piercing through her nightgown against my shirtfront, I having abandoned my jacket in my dressing room. Simultaneously our lips extended themselves towards each other's, her titties wobbling gently as she rose on tiptoe. All at once then my left hand cupped itself beneath her warm, tight bottom and felt the inviting silkiness of that pert bulb. A little wriggle of her hips gave assent to the caress so that in the haphazard delight of the moment I began to gather up the soft folds of her single garment at the back until her naked globe was poised like a ripe plum, a peach of perfect form, upon my palm.

    'You are a naughty girl', I murmured to her sweet lips whence a sigh exhaled twixt my own. The tip of my forefinger, errant and lewd as it had become, worked gently into the springy parting of her nether cheeks and found the puckered rim of her most secret orifice where it circled tenderly, causing her to breathe excitedly into my mouth.

    'This must stop', I choked, though even so my finger did not relinquish its gentle exploration. The rim appeared to my touch to moisten very slightly and even to open a little.

    'Yes, Papa', came her quivering response, while in the very middle of those three small syllables the tip of her tongue flickered momentarily against mine and then shyly retreated. At that, our mouths veritably melted together and became as one, writhing and moving gently. In all my hypocrisy then I told myself that it was needful for me to teach her a lesson, and with that worked the first knuckle of my finger into her tight, warm hole, causing her breath to rush out anew.

    'You see!', I gasped. With what lack of moral fiber I intended thus to 'admonish' her! What monumental self-indulgence and self-deceit was there!

    'Haaar! Yeh-esss!', came her moan. Her lips wobbled against mine, her hips worked as if fretfully, and I seizing upon that and keeping my finger embedded in her squeezing bottom, I told myself that she would soon cry out for relief. Perhaps she meant to. Her burning face hid itself against my chest and her arms tightened fearfully about my neck, she taking a step backwards so that I was forced by the constraint of her clinging grip to follow suit, whereat her knees bent against the side of the bed and we both tumbled thereon, my finger being forced out of her nether hole in the process.

    'Very naughty', I exclaimed as though in further admonishment of her, yet in reality in the most stupid of fashions.

    If I expected Daisy then to turn away from me and show much confusion, it was not to be. Her face-an oval of sweet wonder with its glistening lips parted-remained uppermost beneath my own. In our fell, her nightgown had rucked up and betrayed the warm sleekness of her bared thighs. Another inch or two and her pubic treasure would be revealed.

    'Not naughty, Papa. Is it naughty?', she whispered with more allure than I would have thought a girl of her age capable of.

    An utter helplessness of desire came over me. I endeavoured for the briefest of moments to raise myself from the languid invitation of her slim form, to desist from such an embrace. Instead I found myself sinking upon her, her nipples formed to sharp points that penetrated even my shirt. Again my treacherous left hand fumbled and sought, this time insinuating her nightgown upwards more until a froth of curls between her thighs hazed itself against my fingers. Amidst the intertwining hairs were two pulpy lips that exuded a veritable honey to my vagrant touch. Her bottom lifted and fell, as if eager to receive, causing a mist of moisture to be felt on my fingers.

    'We dare not!', I groaned, but even as I did so her mouth touched to mine with a fearful admixture of innocence and sensuousness the while that her hand shyly but with dreadful inquisitiveness groped between our enlaced forms to touch the stiffly awoken rod of my penis which rammed upwards through my trouser cloth. My mouth opened, receiving the small warm snake of her tongue. The lightest of butterfly touches up and down my concealed rod sent agues of desire through me.

    A humming noise emitted itself from her lips to mine. Drawing her further knee up, she parted her legs in the most abandoned of postures.

    'B… big key!', she stammered, her sweet saliva intermingling with my own.

    'Yes', murmured in return. All was lost and all a-whirl. I found her button and began to titillate it. A gasp broke from her and her head sank further back into the feather pillow while I, having a strange desire in that moment of madness to look into her eyes, raised myself a little, this also allowing her hand greater access to the most rigid portion of my anatomy. Curiously she threw her free arm across her eyes as though to deny to herself that which was occurring. I tried to take her arm away but she resisted. At the same time her other hand continued clasping as much as it could of my throbbing member.

    Take your nightgown off', I croaked.

    She shook her head, still hiding half of her face. My fingers returned to tease her pulpy slit whose slightly raised mound looked utterly delicious. Her firm young bottom bucked anew, then her thighs clipped together, trapping my hand. Her back arched, elevating her derriere several inches off the bed. A low moan came from her. My held fingers felt a tremulous palpitation of her nest, and then she deluged them with a fine, urgent spray that evidently caused her such exquisite pleasure that she bit into her forearm.

    'Hoo-hooo! Pa-pa!', she whimpered. Her arm slid away from her flushed visage and wound itself around my neck, drawing my mouth passionately upon hers. As urgently as any aroused female's fingers might, she frigged my prick through my trouser cloth, causing me to squirm in utter frustration.

    'Give it to me!', I groaned and widened the angle of her thighs more. Her tongue lashed my own. Our kisses were more torrid than any I had ever experienced, and so sweet was her mouth, half open as it was, that I felt myself to be as one drowning in a liquid paradise. I thrust her hand away from my crotch and began tearing wildly at my buttons. Alas, I scarce knew the fever point I had reached. The twisted nature of my trousers prevented more than three or four inches of my cock from emerging. The swollen crest brushed against her thigh. Immediately it did, Daisy rolled on her hip away from me, so presenting the cleft peach of her bottom. Whether such was intended as an offering or an expression of dismay that I was actually presenting myself to her, I do not know.

    My hands dragged her nightgown high up, baring her swollen titties which I cupped fervently in my palms.

    'Ooooh!', she uttered, her head bowed so that my kisses rained on the back of her neck.

    The engorged crest of my cock was by then pressed upwards between the springy half-moons of her delightful derriere. It moved a fraction, excited to the uttermost by her exuding warmth, and then suddenly as a bullet is ejected from the barrel of a gun-so the first strings and pellets of my sperm released themselves, firing a hot stream of lava that spattered her bulbing cheeks and caused her to wriggle tightly against me, thus impelling further jets that spread a fine bubbling cream everywhere.

    'Pa-PA! Naught-eee!', she whimpered, head bowed still when I wanted most to assuage my further desires upon her lips. My loins jerked as of some volition other than my own. Two further streams of sperm followed, and then the main pulsing was done. For long moments while I held her thus, all but captive with her tits in my hands, the ticking globs and drops continued to emerge until her bottom was veritably lathered. Then I quivered, stiffened my legs, and lay still. Small rivulets of come dribbled down from her pert cheeks to fall between the backs of her thighs and the fronts of my own, so closely did we remain interlocked.

    A silence followed-a silence such as would wish to repel any words that I might utter. Any such as might have come from me would have been of the utmost folly. Half shamefacedly, I relinquished her swollen bubbies and-feeling much like an intrusive tramp in my disarray-rose from the bed and adjusted my trousers while Daisy remained as I had left her.

    'Sleep well', I said. No words ever sounded so abysmally doltish. Bending, I drew the bedclothes from under her-not without difficulty for she lay heavily-and covered her. 'Goodnight, my pet', I said, echoing my former stupidity of utterance.

    A much muffled 'Goo-night' came from her. I tiptoed to the door, feeling like one who has stolen the fruits of heaven, as indeed I had. To my vast relief, Celia was dozing when I joined her in bed. Now and again she moved her bottom, but otherwise lay still. I have never known her do that before. I rested for a while on my back, staring with glazed eyes at the dim white ceiling. I had all but ravaged my dear, sweet pet-or had she been accomplice to my sins? The silence of the house was like a pall over me. Ridiculous thoughts ran through my mind like panic-driven sheep.

    Should I return and apologise to Daisy? Despite my previous fondlings of her, how would our eyes meet in the morning-and what dare one say? Would she arise confused, and I much fallen in her estimation? I tore at that thought as one who tries to escapee from a cell with bare fingers. At one moment I thought of the silky, firm bliss of her jutting young bottom and that she had not squealed and protested when I inserted my digit therein; at another I thought of the sense of remorse that would surely flood her soul. I, who had lectured her on being naughty, had now seemingly shed my disguise and stood before her as a lusting beast who has turned a merely amourous game- one of tender loving, as I had blithely told myself until then-into something of far more lewd and coarse intent. There was no doubt that Daisy had herself ventured willingly to the very cliff-edge of desire, yet it was I who had indicated the path.

    Thus did I castigate myself, and it was long before I slept. Then, with the coming of a new day-and as is so often the case with the ever-hopeful mind-I told myself that all would soon be forgotten, that the waves of Time would wash over the beach of Life, as it were. Daisy would act as if nothing had passed, and I would do the same. I would kiss her still occasionally-and pray why not? I might even fondle her titties again, if she were minded to let me. Thus, and so ludicrously, did my thoughts again begin to run in all directions. I was as a man who has long wanted to do a certain thing and believes he has dissected it thoroughly and to his complete satisfaction. Then, upon taking the final step towards the fruition of his aim, he falters, becomes confused, knows not his own mind, and is caught between returning and venturing on.

    I have this day been thus, and have received from Daisy only wan smiles and a few, broken words. At one moment, upon the first floor landing I endeavoured to approach her and to comfort any fears she might have. Before I could reach her, however, she turned into her room and locked her door. I have become lowly in her eyes, I fear, yet Time will heal all, and of that I am sure. She is unbreached still. May the Lord be thanked for that. Perhaps after all (for my hopes rise ever on) I have taught her the ways of men and have thus provided her with a better lesson than in truth I meant to do.


    Richard's Day-Book

    I am home again after three fearsome days. Mama does not care, for she asked me nothing about it. Amy was most inquisitive. I said that the family had merely taken a liking to me and that I had had a most jolly time riding and shooting.

    This afternoon I overheard an altercation between Amy and Mama. The very husband of the principal lady who so ill-treated me may occasionally act as Amy's chaperone, Mama said.-'But I don't like him', Amy complained, to which Mama replied very coolly that she had previously understood otherwise and that the company of a real man and a thorough gentleman at that (I believe she intended that remark slightingly against Papa) would do Amy a world of good and help to introduce her into Society. From such as Amy replied, she sounded half mollified and half not. I bet that chap is up to no good with her if he is anything like his 'good lady'.

    She was anything but good to me. My thing is sore from all the times they made me do it-but not with them. Always in that horrid bottle, or in a thing they put over my prick like a sheathe. At times I felt very strange as if I did not know who I was. They said I am not very good at doing it, but I think I am. I was not even fed well until I was about to leave. I suppose they did not want me to complain to Mama about that, but I can say nothing to her. It would mean I would have to use words she does not like now, or so I feel.

    I am to obey every woman, they said, but I do not intend to. Upon my return, I was only allowed to tell Mama that they wished me to return again. Indeed, they instructed me and said it will be the worse for me if I do not. Mama merely cut me off and said that of course I must do as I am asked. It is a stinker. They played with my cock all the time, and sometimes they twisted my balls. They said things I didn't understand, like I have to 'get the scent' of them. I believe they mean their knickers. What a disgusting way to behave! I never thought a woman could frighten me like that.

    'All this serves you right', they said, but they did not say for what. They cannot know I was naughty with Mama for she would never have told them. She is too quiet and self-possessed now to do that. The knob of my prick is all red. Amy said I look 'weak', and I should jolly well think that I do. I heard a man in the house sometimes. It must be the same one that she was talking about to Mama, though I have only guessed that. We do not know many other people.

    If I do have to go back there, I think I will run away to sea.


    CHAPTER FIFTEEN

    Stephen Brindley-Marshall's Day-Book

    Maurice is a fine chap. I do not think our little 'Club' would exist without his meritorious efforts in seeking out and finding the occasional young lady for 'correction and treatment'. I keep a Minutes Book of all such events, but since it is the property of the members generally, it is often returned to me after long intervals and somewhat dog-eared.

    I am told, by way of flattery which I am sure is intended to encourage me to make my memoirs of each pleasant session as detailed as possible, that I write exceedingly well. This I rather doubt, though I am happy to accommodate all who wish to revive memories of each occasion. For safety's sake, lest the minute book be lost-or worse, filched and destroyed by some irate and insensitive wife-I am now keeping a copy hereof, and thus am able to make an extra record of the initiation of one Amy Mansfield.

    How the deuce he got hold of her (in every sense) I do not know. She is obviously a girl of excellent background, though with all the discretion whereby he ennobles his character he would say nothing of that, insisting that she must otherwise remain anonymous.

    We met, as usual, in what we are pleased to call our Committee Room on the second floor of The Boar's Head. The Manager thereof, having had his palm well oiled, is thoroughly discreet and happily makes an exceptional point of giving personal attention to Maurice and his protegees upon their arrival.

    Amy was therefore treated royally upon arrival, being given a glass of punch and a few small comestibles before Maurice led her up into our presence, we being four altogether on this occasion, including Maurice. As is our manner, we seated ourselves on one side of a table, for the room is set out as a parlour of sorts, having no bed, but an expansive chaise-longue which has previously accommodated several wriggling charmers.

    Amy thus found herself confronted by solemn faces. Being led forward to the table by Maurice, she stood as shyly as they do, and in much wonderment as to why she was there and what was to occur.

    Being the appointed spokesman on such occasions, I apprised her in measured tones that we gentlemen were present to further her education by methods which young ladies of good breeding were wont to understand was necessary to progress them on the road to life. At that, she turned her head and cast somewhat apprehensive glances at Maurice who stood close to her side and gave all impression of being a quasi-parental authority, as well in part a comforter by maintaining one arm loosely around her waist.

    'S… sir?', she asked after I had concluded my little discourse.

    'Yes?', I enquired politely.

    'M… Mama has told me nothing of this', came her stammer.

    'Of course not, my dear. Such are the family conventions that she would not do so, and hence in the absence of your esteemed father cannot offer the requisite guidance. In due course-and perhaps with the help of your- er-guardian, Maurice, you will learn that other young ladies of your age have passed through the same tests of obedience. Perhaps, Maurice, you will in due course, introduce her to such that she may be mollified and assured that no exception is being made in her case? You will? Thank you, dear fellow. And now, my dear, it is time for you to disrobe', said I.

    How her pretty jaw dropped! She would have stepped backwards were it not for the restraining arm of Maurice who apprised her that she might wear her stockings and petticoat, but no more than that, for a physical examination of her person was requisite.

    A deep blush settled upon her features. Her fingers twisted nervously and she cast imploring eyes upon me.

    'I want… I want Mama', she bleated.

    'Your dear mother is full cognisant with the affair. Twill take but thirty minutes of your time, my dear, in the natural course of things. Should you prove recalcitrant, then I fear your stay will be prolonged. These gentlemen are busy. Have they not put themselves out, wended themselves from their business affairs to attend upon you? Come now, off with your dress and your drawers'.

    'But, but, but…', stuttered Amy whose cheeks shone crimson.

    I thereupon rose and gazed down on her with what Maurice is pleased to call my 'Magistrate's look'.

    'If you do not, my dear, we shall find it necessary to undertake your disrobing ourselves. Do you wish that?'

    'Oh no!' came her hurried response. Maurice thereupon loosed his arm from about her waist and bid her turn her back on us and go to the chaise longue where she was to present herself. Ah, what hesitant, mincing steps she took! Her blush was evident right down to her neck. Presenting her rear to us, she began with much trembling of fingers to unbutton herself. Thereat a hush fell upon the room. Such a spectacle is delicious to see for the first time. Inch by cautious inch her white-stockinged legs were revealed-first her slim, shapely calves, then the sweet indipping of the backs of her knees and then, oh heaven, the girlish swelling of her ivory thighs which sprang up in columns of unmarked purity above her stocking tops and garters.

    Slowly, oh so slowly, her dress was worked from off her shoulders and fell in a crumpled heap upon the floor. There was no petticoat such as Maurice had presaged. In place of such she wore a pretty bodice (laced at the front, as I could glimpse), and underskirt, and white drawers with flared frills to the legs which left a luring gap between them and her garters.

    As we have previously experienced with such nubile female striplings, a low and tremulous murmur then came from her that she 'could not'. Maurice, calling upon a stern note in his voice, apprised her immediately that she must.

    'Remove your drawers and underskirt. Show the gentlemen your bottom, girl!', he instructed.

    Another bleat from Amy, but then without more ado, Maurice strode across and gave her bottom a firm smack which brought a foolish wail from her.

    'Display yourself, Amy!', he barked.

    Ah, how our eager eyes followed every movement of her hands then-the slow descending of her most intimate nether garment, the first appearance of the pleasingly deep cleft of her bottom which is indeed a 'cheeky' one, its hemispheres fulsomely rounded and with the most appealing dimple on the left cheek. Both half-moons sweep sharply under to the tiny creases they form at the tops of her thighs. I remark upon such always as little 'ticks' of Nature who donates Her approval to them as though to say a masterpiece of feminine sculpture has there been created-as in Amy's case indeed it has.

    Her feet lifted one by one, struggling to release her shoes from the confines of the legs of her drawers and thus permitting an enticing view of the nest beneath her bulb.

    Such little whimpers of dismay in so having to unveil herself to our view were silently ignored. Maurice stood by to give her bottom an encouraging smack again, but with a doleful hunching of her shoulders she then loosed her underskirt and allowed it to descend and take its place upon her discarded drawers and skirt. Her bodice was all that remained. At a whisper from Maurice, she tremblingly untied its frontal laces and let the sides hang away.

    'Bend forward now, Amy, and place your palms flat upon the seat of the couch', Maurice uttered, accompanying his command with a SMACK! on her naked derriere as brought a mournful wail from her, though immediate obedience.

    We three behind the table then rose. I, having the first honours as had been agreed on this occasion, produced from beneath my jacket a tawse which has by now done fair service in converting young ladies to their proper path in life. Amy, not knowing what was to occur next, remained as still as her modesty allowed, her bottom bulbing out towards us.

    I approached her and swung the leather implement in readiness. A quick peep from beneath her arm and she observed it and uttered a dismayed squeak-indeed would have straightened up had not the hand of Maurice-who stood on her left side-settled gently on the nape of her neck and 'resettled' her.

    'Be still now, Amy. You are about to receive your first lesson in the obedience of young females to the male', quoth he while I measured my first stroke and brought the tawse with a sharp crack across her fully-fleshed cheeks, this bringing an apparently surprised 'AH!' from her which gave proof to the fact that she had not been attended upon before.

    It is the convention that each Club member provides each young entrant to our little circle with at least three strokes. Sometimes a chap gets carried away, of course. If the girl proves difficult she will receive much more. One fellow may give her a sixer while another may accord her even more. In general, a total of a dozen suffices to warm their bottoms sufficiently for other 'strokes' as are to follow.

    Amy, I regret to say, proved a trifle difficult. Her hips weaved exceedingly at my third and fourth sweeps of the tawse which created a charming pink haze upon her velvety, firm cheeks. Her pleas for mercy sounded, premature as they were. Her sobs were most appealing, yet if discipline is to obtain then the initiate must necessarily receive a burning lesson.

    I do not doubt that Amy did so. In all, and between us, she was accorded some eighteen strokes of the sharp-slapping leather before her rosy bottom was due to receive its final accolades. Amid all her wailings, her pleas, her broken sobs and cries, not a word had been uttered among us. Such is our way, and I deem it to be the proper one. No coarsities are exchanged; it would be a damned ungentlemanly thing to do anyway. It was sufficient that each of us was by then well upstanding in such parts of our persons as were to complete Amy's second stage of education.

    In brief, I probed my knob first between the delicious young maiden's hotly burning cheeks, a modicum of unguent having been deftly applied by Maurice from a small pot to her puckered orifice while his free hand continued pressing her neck firmly down.

    Ah, such a cry came from her pretty lips as my penis made its authoritative entry.

    'No, no, no!', came her beseeching cry. She endeavoured to retract her hips, as all do at first, but I had taken a firm clasp around the front of her thighs and entered my piston slowly but firmly. Tight enough she was, by jove, and loud enough her cries until in due course I had so purposely plugged her that her nether cheeks came fully to rest against my belly.-Tay-tay-take it out!', she moaned, though the sturdy intrusion of my prick had been finally eased by the applied lubricant around her bottomhole which had much assisted that initial breaching of her fine young bum.

    'Oh-ho-ho!', she sobbed, but one is not to be put off by such girlish mewings as in due course are bound to transform themselves into more pleasurable sounds. My piston then began to do its work, though with due regard for her virginity I effected my task slowly, performing such long, deep strokes as caused her bubbling moans to sound endless. Her hips wriggled mutinously enough, but to no avail. Her soft cries were the only ones to break the solemn silence, save for my own occasional hurried breathing and the slight movements of the feet of my companions who waited to treat her royally as I was doing.

    What electrical discharges and divine sensations I felt as at long last I provided her tight passage with my lubricating sperm! My vision dimmed as I finally brought the hot butterball of her bum tightly into me and expelled my juices.

    'Whooo!', came her expected cry as she felt herself being injected. Receiving my jets, she rubbed her arse cheeks against me in what I felt to be a rather promising manner, though whether in protest or desire it is rarely possible to tell on such initiatory occasions. Certainly I doused her sufficiently well for Hawkins to immediately take my place and equally certainly he entered her with more ease, though not without squeals of dismay from her, for she had thought the 'outrage' to be over.

    Hawkins pumped her efficiently, and took as long about it as had I, whereupon-having loosed his spermatic treasures-came the turn of Madison-Brown who is rumoured to still accord his two married daughters such valedictory salutes when they visit him. 'A well-spermed bottom turneth not away the cock' has ever been his motto.

    With the withdrawal of his spent penis, the young lady's first experience of the combats of Venus came temporarily to an end, as had already most of her whimpering utterances. Maurice permitted her to slump down upon the chaise-longue where, modesty abandoned, she lay upon her tum-tum and stirred not save for many a fervent squeezing of the cheeky halves of her well-creamed bottom.

    We three then quietly retired, having done our duty by her. Maurice had not put his poker in to stir her fire, for whatever reason he saw best. He is a skilful fellow in such things and wished not, at that moment, to be seen as a villain of the piece but rather as an adjunct, an observer-though in all as a form of teacher and one who will benefit much thereafter, I am certain. He was not to be seen in her eyes as an accomplice, a bully-boy, but an arbiter. May we all learn a lesson therefrom!


    Maurice's Day-Book

    'What have they done to me!', was Amy's first cry upon the departure of my learned companions.

    I sighed a heartfelt sigh and stroked the silky surfaces of her bulb gently the while that she quivered. Her process of education as a young lady had begun, I said. She would tell her Mama, she whined.

    That, said I, would be a monumental indiscretion on her part, as I had already conveyed to her before. Her Mama would be highly embarrassed to have her speak of the voluptuous details whereby she had been inducted into the first rites of Venus. It was expected of a young lady that she should remain quiet on such matters and not indulge in attempts to draw undue attention to herself. Her Mama, I continued, had been apprised of what was to pass and had accepted it as Amy's due-and so on and so on.

    Much snivelling interrupted the flow of my soothing speech (or such I intended it to be), but no further protests being forthcoming I then proceeded to praise her in a manner which she least expected, saying that she had comported herself well and would be much admired for it by the gentlemen concerned in 'educating' her. I then raised her up and, sitting beside her, continued in like vein, caressing her titties whose nipples were well swollen and silently betokened a modicum of pleasure which she would have otherwise denied. I weighed the twin, gelatinous fruits on my palms and said they were the loveliest I had ever seen.

    'I have been made to be wicked', she exclaimed, and I replying that nothing of the sort had occurred and that soon enough she would encounter others who had 'passed their examinations' in a like manner and were now ready to repeat the occasion more eagerly.

    'Don't know any', she mumbled, but her tone sounded more placatory, and then added mournfully, 'My bottom hurts'.

    I told her thereupon-ignoring any other intended implication of her words-that it might not be necessary to bring the tawse to her derriere if she showed herself to be more obedient. My tone being sharp enough, she knew not how to respond and said merely that she wished to go home.

    'Shall you walk the long miles back and perhaps become prey to vagabonds, or shall I take you?', I asked- somewhat to her dismay that I should put such a question.

    'Oh, you will take me!', she exclaimed, jumping up and half turning her back on me.

    Then you will ask properly, as a well-brought-up young lady should. Turn and face me', I commanded.

    Her next movement was as expected. Obeying and blinking such tears from her eyes as she could manage to extol, she cupped her hands coyly in front of her Venus mound. Reaching forward, I smacked her wrists, causing her an expression of much dismay and her arms to flop to her sides.

    Her tuft sprouts well for her age and is neatly triangular, being so straight across the top that one might think it to have been trimmed, were she not so naive. Her titties thrust forward well, and more so than one would suspect from the imprisoning gowns she wears.

    That is better, Amy. You will now make your request'.

    Her eyes followed my own up and down her well-shaped form.-'Per-please will you take me home?', she asked. I parted my knees widely and drew her between them. Fanning my fingertips I ran them through her pubic curls, at which she sucked in her lower lip and stared above my head.

    'What did you ask?', I enquired. Her thighs had parted a little in her forward motion. I effected a greater separation of them, stroking their warm, silky innerness in a silent gesture to her to keep them apart. Very slowly I turned my hand uppermost under her nest and, curling my forefinger, brushed it up between the moist, petulant lips to find her perky bud. Her tummy immediately tightened and then relaxed as I performed the most teasing of circular motions. Her eyes half closed and she began to sway a little.

    'I w… want you to per-please t… t… take me home', she uttered in a very trembly tone. A sharp hissing sounded through her nostrils as I continued titillating her spot.

    'In a moment, yes-in a moment, Amy'.

    'Whaa… wha… whaaah…', came her otherwise incoherent moan. Her knees flexed a little. She knew not what to do with her hands. Despite herself, her hips began to work back and forth.

    'Come on, now-come on, Amy', I urged softly. I passed my free hand around her, stroked her bulbing cheeks and caressed her sticky nether hole. Her mouth opened wide. Her eyelashes fluttered. Her eyes rolled up to show their pearly whites.

    'Mer-mer-mer-mer…!', she whimpered, and thereupon spilled in a fine, abundant spray over my luring hand. The tiny drops pelleted in a quick shower on to my palm. Her knees buckled completely, and at that I pulled her further into me and sat her on my left thigh, causing the upper part of her yielding form to sink right back. My left arm behind her shoulders supported her. Her lips came open to my own. A further roving of my fingertip about her bud and she came again.

    'Give me your tongue, Amy', I breathed into her mouth, knowing well how lost she was in the hot wilderness of desire. In the succeeding moments womanhood came folly upon her. Our kisses, our tonguings, were of the wildest. Then she collapsed as if in a swoon, I continuing to rain kisses on her distended nipples, soothing the lips of her pussy with my open palm while her belly shimmered.

    It was needful, I felt, not to show too much abundance of tenderness thereafter. She is still in training. Once we had regained my carriage and were off, I reminded her quietly of such and asked whether she understood. Before she could find reply, I apprised her that she would for a few more weeks at least remain under discipline, but thereafter could choose her own lovers. That last word appeared to please her. A small, smug smile appeared briefly on her lips, though she sat modestly enough. Thereafter I did not pursue the subject. I feel as certain of her discretion as I do of her future obedience.


    CHAPTER SIXTEEN

    Eveline's Day-Book

    So young Amy has been broken-in! I was delighted with Maurice's news and think it very sensitive of him not to have breached her himself. Deirdre must be informed of it some way. This task, it appears, is mine, for my dear husband opines that I shall be able to approach the matter better than he. He is right, I think, for were he to tell her then it would seem an act of bravado on his account. Deirdre is to bring Richard here tomorrow. I have so told her to do, and upon my assurance that he will not be permitted to exhibit himself before her. What is needful, as I expressed in my note to her, is that Richard is conscious of her awareness of his punishment merely by virtue of her presence in the house.

    Maude is going to deal with him. She is much looking forward to it! So far, Maurice has but toyed, in a flirtatious way, with his stepdaughter, and this I have permitted. He has not got beneath her skirt, nor do I feel I wish him to. I sense that I am jealous in that particular respect. Maude is well-thighed and well-bosomed, and has a derriere that is frequently remarked upon by gentlemen.

    Heaven knows she has been teased enough by the various things she has glimpsed. Maurice avers that she should go before his 'Committee'. I am undecided about that. Even if I agree, I do not wish him to be present other than to conduct her there and fetch her back. It would not be entirely proper, nor judicious, for him to view that which he did with Amy, however delectable the scene of utter abandon that must have occurred.

    He asked me whether I minded his tickling her up. Of course I did not, I replied. Heaven knows that similar incidents in our lives together have been many! Besides, it will be nice to have her between us eventually with my tongue at her pussy and his cock in her mouth-such a sophisticated exercise, I always think. He must sperm her slit first though. I think that is best done upon her own bed. She will then carry sweet memories to sleep with her. By the same token as that of Richard, Amy must be brought to know that all is understood, otherwise we shall all get into the most fearful tangle. Perhaps we are already doing so. Maurice says I must not be faint of heart; in fact we have always proved ourselves quite efficient in tidying up such little matters.


    Richard's Day-Book

    So, Mama has been behind this all the time-or I am pretty sure she has. I never thought she could be so vengeful, though she put on a great air of pretending to know nothing about what was happening to me again.

    Mama insisted on accompanying me there, much as I tried to get out of it. Amy wondered what was going on-and tried to come with us! It was the same lady there, Eveline she is called, and this time a girl not much older than my sister, called Maude.

    No sooner had we arrived and got into the drawing room than the lady said to Mama, 'We will just take Richard upstairs and settle him'. Mama said nothing and appeared to be very interested in a lot of stupid flowers. I wanted to say I didn't want to go upstairs, but that would have made me look silly, and I bet they counted on my being polite.

    We got up into that same room. I had my hair wrenched again. The lady asked me if I were going to be a baby and call for my mother. She knew I couldn't do that. They bound my arms to my sides with cord; it was a horrible experience. Then they laid me on that low, uncomfortable bed on my back and got out that dreadful bottle again. The lady said I was going to have plenty of time to fill it-as if I could, or anyone could!

    Maude then knelt up over my face and pulled her skirt up. She didn't have any drawers on. In a minute she smothered my nose and mouth with her naked bum and squashed down hard on me while she put the bottle over my cock. Then the lady said she would leave me to her and went out to go down and rejoin Mama. It was the most terrible experience because I was half afraid that Mama would come up and laugh at me, but she didn't. The girl made me come into the bottle, like before. I didn't want to. It always feels tender after I've done it.

    She took the bottle off and lifted her bum a bit so that I could breathe at last, but then she said that I was to lick right at her bumhole! I told her that was a dirty thing to do. She laughed and said, 'Well, I'll soon see to you', and began to rub my prick again. I begged her to stop and she said she would when I began licking her, so I had to do it and it was hateful.

    At last she got off me. I can't imagine why a pretty girl does horrible things like that. She said she would see if she could make me come again-they call it 'milking'- in half an hour, and then she gagged me with a cloth!

    I was left all alone again. It was awful. Right on the half hour she came back. I knew that because there was a clock on the cabinet facing me. I'm sure it was put like that on purpose for me to watch it. She called me a 'brute' and left my gag on while she frigged me again until I got stiff, but in the end I didn't come so much. She said, 'You'll have to do better than this', and sounded just like the lady does. Then to my horror she asked, 'Do you want to see your Mama now?'. I was in such a state that I shook my head wildly. I couldn't speak because of the gag.

    Again she went out, saying she would visit me again. Before she did, she held the flask up and said critically that there wasn't much in it and that this time they were going to keep it until it was full! My trousers were pulled down to my ankles all the time and I felt stupid and wretched. At the door she hesitated and turned back and said she would take the gag off me because she was sure (she said that very sarcastically) that I wouldn't call for my Mummy. Then she asked, 'Shall I ask her to come and see you?'

    I begged her not to. She laughed and said that I was begging and that when she returned I was to beg her to make me come again, or she would call Mama. I didn't answer her. I just lay there and glared at her.! hated everybody, including Mama, but I don't now. It was nearly four hours before we left and I had to tidy myself before I went down, and all as if nothing had happened. Mama merely said to me in a very distant way, 'Are you ready?', and I couldn't say anything. I even half believed she didn't know what had gone on, and I was weak and sore again. I think she knew that. You can sense these things.

    Amy wanted to know why she couldn't have come with us. Mama said to her that she would have her chance soon enough. I'd like to know what that means. I want to talk to Mama about this, but I don't know what to say. She just talks to me in the same, cold tone of voice all the time. If I ever see Jeremy again I shall really hit the bounder. He has kept out of my way and doesn't take the same morning ride as he used to. I know because I've watched out for him. I think he must sneak out of his house. He is an absolute rotter.


    Deirdre's Day-Book

    Eveline told me precisely what is being done to Richard. It will do him no harm, and will do him a world of good in learning to respect ladies, she said. Oh dear, I am beginning to feel sorry for him. She saw that and said I am not to.

    I have such difficulties now about Amy-with her sensing things as she is, and besides which she is quieter even than she was. I asked her where she had been with Maurice, and she said in a very strange voice, 'Oh, it is nothing you don't know about, Mama.'

    Eveline told me, in a very roundabout way at first, that it was time Amy is seen-to, or she may discover things I do not wish her to. Heaven forfend! I asked her what was I to do, to which Eveline replied that I should let Maurice take her in hand, and in such a way that I appear to know about it without referring to it! She said that I must not be too protective of dear Amy or the girl will end up frigid.

    'Are you being entirely fair with her?', she asked me, which of course increased my sense of guilt. I said I would have to think about it. To that she replied gently, 'No, my dear, let action take its course'. It would be easy enough for me to bring her there, she said, but that was not the way it should be done, and Maurice will visit tomorrow. Oh, to what have I led myself! And, besides all this, I received an utterly ridiculous letter from Phillip, couched (as one would expect) in utterly wooden terms, to which I have no intention of responding. It is he who had led us all into this. Had he been more of a man, he might have given Amy a little lesson or two himself, and Richard would have been quite other than he has been.

    I know not what to say to Richard. He is as mournful as a scolded dog. Eveline says that this is how it should be and that I must now learn to deal with the situation myself. She has told me how to, but I am not sure whether I can venture that. I am told to discard all my doubts and make myself as free in my ways as she. I rather thought that I had, which I said to her, whereat she laughed and told me not to sulk. Finally we went upstairs and tiptoed past the room where Richard was. I must say that he was VERY quiet. What a truly voluptuous experience it was to lie abed with her while we tongued each other's cunnies, and he in a nearby room lying with his trousers down! Eveline said it was 'deliciously complex' and told me of many other libertine adventures of a like kind she has brought about.

    Such pleading little notes asking for forgiveness are slipped beneath my door by Richard. I know not what to do. I shall have to forgive him in the end, I know, but Eveline says that I am not to be 'soft' and that she will deal with him again, by which time, she says, he will remain infinitely more obedient and will obey my every command.

    'And that, too, has possibilities, Deirdre', she said, which I told her was a very wicked thing to say. How dull it would be otherwise, she replied.


    Maurice's Day-Book

    'Let boldness be my friend', was the motto for today. Deirdre, having visited yesterday with her son (about whom I wish to know naught!), I returned today to her house to pay my respects to her.

    Amy was all a-flush and a-blush, as may be imagined, though looking extremely attractive with her hair let down and wearing a wide-skirted blue and white dress which I half thought had been put on specially for the occasion. Perhaps Deirdre had given her a hint or two, or perhaps Amy expected another visit to 'the Committee'. At least I persuaded Eveline last night that it is time for her Maude to attend there, I agreeing upon her condition that I should remain outside while she is being 'seen to'. I am not without understanding in that. Maude is a little flightier than Eveline imagines and, after her feathers have been smoothed, will take her injections with less fretfulness than did Amy. I have already tumbled the lovely girl several times and have, unknown to Eveline, had a good feel through her drawers both front and back. She has proven wriggly but langourous, and I do believe secretly thinks of it as a challenge that I should attend upon her occasionally as I so frequently do her adorable mother.

    'It is too close to home', says Eveline when I have broached 'possibilities' to her. Latterly, of course, I have been able to remind her of her homilies in this respect to Deirdre, which DID cause her a little confusion, in particular as I am related to Maude only by marriage.-'Oh, that is different', replied Eveline with all the impenetrable logic of the female. I threaded her well and thoroughly last night and got her, as so often, to confess all her passions while we were in the throes of love. At the very height of it, and I about to spill my sperm into her clinging nest, I called her by Maude's name. Eyes rolling, she threshed her ardent bottom even more wildly and moaned 'Don't!' Afterwards she murmured, 'I suppose I cannot stop you now, dearest, but I do not want to know about it. When you do it to her, will you still love me just as much?'

    Oh, what a sad, sweet question! I assured her that I would.-'I do believe you', she said, and then we fell to talking of naughtinesses again till both of us were stirred to fuck once more.

    As to Amy, there would be no hesitations. Deirdre tactfully took up some crochet work and hence permitted me the lightest of conversations with Amy whose eyes found great difficulty in meeting mine-as well might be understood! We three having each enjoyed a glass of wine, I rose and said quietly that I would 'take Amy up'.

    'Oh, you are going to have a little chat?', replied Deirdre. Amy blushed to her neck, I finding it necessary to draw her up from her chair. She bleated out a very small 'Mama!'-in a sort of squeak I would say-and to that Deirdre answered very mildly, 'Yes, dear'. Obviously Eveline's little 'chat' with HER did a world of good.

    Amy was silent while I led her up, guiding her along by her elbow to her room where I closed the door. Immediately that I did, she backed away and exclaimed nervously, 'I did not tell Mama!'

    I removed my jacket and cravat. Her room is a pretty one and has all the airs of young femininity, there being blue and silver paper upon the walls, a well-decorated little dressing table with spindly legs, and pillows upon her bed that are edged with lace. Brussels lace I believe it is called. A pair of white drawers with pink ribbons hung over the back of a wooden chair. They were spotless, and I wondered if she had previously taken them off.

    Faced by my silence, Amy murmured plaintively, 'I don't want to do it again'. She clasped her fingers together and looked at me hopefully, I barring the door.

    I reminded her what I had said about discipline, and told her moreover that were I her Papa, I would have attended on her sooner than this.

    'Would you?', she asked and blushed. The feet that she glanced sideways down at her bed gave her thoughts away. As I approached so, so she stepped backwards to it, vaguely seeking to take hold of a support when there was none.

    'How pretty you look', said I. One a little nervous flurrying of her hands, at first protective and then limp, and she was in my arms, palpitating like a bird.

    'You mustn't. Mama is here', she said foolishly, but I had already begun to gather up the back of her loose dress, uttering the most comforting of sounds as I did so.-'B… b… but Mama…', she kept twittering as I descended her drawers and caressed the ivory cheeks of her bare bottom.

    'I am permitted to birch or tawse you first-do you understand that, Amy?', I demanded sternly. Her head shook as if in assent. Holding her bottom cupped, I raised her chin and made her look at me. She had to learn, said I, to take the cock, as all young ladies must. Her lips tightened and she blinked. My hand was firm beneath her chin. With her drawers then spilled around her neat ankles and her white stockings shimmering in the morning light, I could have cast her then and there upon the bed and threaded her without more ado. Was she going to be obedient, I asked. Her lips quivered. I then afforded her a resounding SMACK! on her bottom which caused her to squeal.

    'Oooh-ah! Mama will have heard that!', she whimpered, trying to rub her bum, but I pushed her hand away.

    'You are quite right. Let us therefore have no more nonsense, Amy. What sweet lips, you have-what lovely eyes! I am going to sperm your cunny, my pet, and not your adorable bottom, fit though it now is to take the manly tool. We are very proud of you, you know, to have offered yourself up so sweetly'-and that said to her great confusion and surprise. I fingered her rosette, causing her to jerk. She wished to drop her eyes from mine, but I would not let her. Thus Eveline has always advised me to do, and she is right.

    The tip of my finger inserted itself gently. She grinched. The tip of her tongue, pink and moist, appeared between her teeth.

    'You… you… said…', she stammered.

    'Amy! Raise your dress to your waist and stand with your legs apart as for as your drawers will allow', I snapped. At that I loosed my broad belt from my waist and laid it meaningfully upon the end of her bed.

    'Oh-wer!', came her little cry, I having stepped back a pace or two. She clutched at the skirt of her dress and stared at me as though I were a visitor from another part of the Universe.

    'It is that or the strap, Amy', I said, whereat she began hesitantly enough to unveil her legs which lack nothing in shapeliness. Her calves are slim, her thighs a little plumpish, which becomes her well. The thrust of her bottom is proud indeed. Making file most audible noises of swallowing, she at last displayed her pure white belly and well-fluffed bush to me, her feet inching apart the while until they could go no further.

    'Now stay so!', said I, and cast off my boots and trousers, bringing to her view as fine an erection as she will ever see. Seeing the swollen crest, the veins outstanding, she all but let drop her skirt, but then with some effort of will tucked it under again.

    I had her walk forward to me then, as awkwardly as she had to in the imprisoning drawers. Upon my instruction, her fingers came timidly to my cock while she continued holding her dress gathered up to her navel with her other hand. I demanded to receive her lips and her tongue. A little quiver of desire seized her then. Her fingers moved up and down my rod more certainly with the coming together of our mouths. With one hand I stroked her silky bottom cheeks and with the other toyed with her muff. Her legs trembled. A faint stickiness exuded from her love-lips.

    'Good girl, Amy', I breathed to her. Step by step I began edging her back to the bed. Upon finding herself on her back, her drawers swiftly removed and cast aside, her legs parted, she instinctively covered her eyes with her hands, her pretty cheeks much flushed. I would not have it so, though, and drew her palms away, placing her arms above her head. Thereupon I unfastened her corsage and brought her wondrous titties into the light. The rose nipples erected themselves quickly to my delicate, fleeting touches and in a moment were rubbery and stiff. Her breath began to come more quickly then and she gazed up at me imploringly. Her stockinged legs shifted and I thrust them wider apart again with a stem gesture until they lay limp, the pearly skin of her thighs swelling up above her gartered tops.

    Tongue now, Amy, play with my prick. There… good… feel my balls now..

    All such instructions did I give her until her belly shimmered the more eagerly. Stroking her slit as I was, I caused her bottom to writhe slowly, which I encouraged by whispers. Finally I rose upon her and half settled between her legs.

    'Guide my knob into your slit, Amy', I insisted.

    An incoherent sound came from her and her eyes half closed. Her belly was rippling with unspoken desire. Fumbling much, and in the shyest manner, she brought my crest to nestle against her seeping, pouting lips. The bulb entered and she gave a gasp and bit her wrist, but once more I placed her hands above her head and bid her draw her knees up a little. Ah, what a fuck she proved to be once the stem was finally embedded in her spongy dell! I cupped her warm bottom firmly then and slewed my prick very slowly back and forth at first until the slight arching of her back told me of her oncoming pleasure.

    'You are being fucked at last, my sweet', I gritted into her mouth whence came delirious moans. Her cunny nipped upon me as I worked the exquisite smoothness of her warm, wet channel. She spilled and clung to me, returning tongue for tongue.-'Ask me to fuck you, Amy', I insisted-not mindlessly as one does in youth, but to a purpose, for Eveline wished it to be so and wished the girl to learn to form the words.

    'F… f..-f…!', was all she could manage, though. The delirium was upon her again. I felt her spatter my balls. The speed of our bout quickened, causing her bottom to bounce like a rubber ball on my palms while the bed squeaked endlessly. Deirdre could not have failed to hear it, but that too has been accounted a good thing by Eveline, 'for it left her in no doubts', as she said.

    I marshalled my forces and kept the girl in a raging heat of pleasure until I apprised her that she was about to receive all the treasures of my balls.

    'Say it again!', I commanded and this time a low, whimpering-indeed, urgent-'F… f… fuck MEE-EEEEH!' flooded my mouth while I in turn flooded her clinging nest with such bountiful spoutings as she could not fail to feel and indeed wriggled all the more upon receiving.

    The impassioned workings of our tongues died away. She received my last strong jet and then what I often call its camp-followers'. Rolling over onto my hip, I remained nested in her until the final drops were expelled, we lying face to face while her breath broke in pleasurable sobs of release. Finally easing out of her, I cozened her, stroked her hot bottom all about and told her that she was proving the prettiest and most able of pupils.

    'Oh, what will Mama say!', came her little cry.

    'Nothing but good of you, Amy. Though it is not to be spoken of openly, it is understood. It is not infrequent for young ladies to be feted while their Mamas wait placidly downstairs. I shall descend now. Nothing will be said. Indeed, she shall continue conversing as we did before. You will come down as sedately as you ascended and will comport yourself quietly. Is that understood?'

    All the while I had been speaking, I had been cupping her pulpy, warm nest which had settled eagerly enough into my palm, the curls titillating my skin most charmingly.

    'Yes', she murmured dutifully.

    There will be less fuss next time, Amy, will there not?'

    'Yes'.

    She hid her face away immediately, but I permitted that and-rising-I attired myself again, feeling a delicious glow in my loins, so worthy a young mount had she proven in the end. Indeed, I used those very words to her, which caused her to cover her eyes, though the gentle curving of her mouth showed no displeasure at my words of praise. Her knees were drawn up and her thighs tightly together as I quit the room. I felt that she was thus conserving in her throbbing quim that which she had so plentifully received.

    'What a delightful girl she is!', I greeted Deirdre. Her crochet work was upon the floor. Her eyes looked a little glazed.

    'Oh! I heard you!', she gasped.

    'Shush!', I responded, and bent and kissed her. 'She has proven most responsive, if that comforts you', I added.

    'I don't know what to think!', came her reply.

    'I'll wager that your drawers are a little moist, Deirdre'.

    'Oh!', she burst in dismay-or, I rather think, in mock dismay-and ran out through the morning room into the garden where I joined her and began immediately to talk about what a splendid showing of shrubs she has. I believe she was strangely grateful for that diversionary remark, for she immediately clasped my hand and squeezed it, but did not reply except to ask if Amy were all right.

    'You will see for yourself that she, too, is now in full bloom', I said.

    Indeed, I was right. Such is the adaptability of females and so vagrant are their moods that Amy appeared scarce fifteen minutes later looking far more self-possessed than I would have given her credit for.

    'I have been tidying my room, Mama', she said, and therewith set a seal of sorts upon her growing tactfulness.


    CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

    Daisy's Day-Book

    I am not going to write anything in my day-book because I wouldn't tell anyone IN THE WHOLE WORLD what happened. I felt ever so funny afterwards, but quite nice. I thought he was going to put… Oh, but I said I wouldn't say anything, so I won't. Mama seems to like going to see Aunty Muriel, but won't take me with her, so we go on different days, which I think is silly. I suppose they want to talk 'grown-up' talk-as if I am not grownup myself now, but the trouble is that I can't tell Mama that. It IS a nuisance.

    Papa seems in a very funny way, not knowing whether to look at me or not. He tried to talk to me upstairs, but I went into my room. I felt shy at first, but now I don't so much. Sometimes I think he just wanted to make me feel silly, and sometimes I don't. Aunty Jane says that if you are going to do a thing, then you should do it properly. She wasn't talking about me, of course, because I know she doesn't know. I hope they don't tickle me and try to make me talk. They do that sometimes, always asking me things, and it's not fair. I still think he could have put it… Well… he could… Perhaps he didn't want to; I don't know. It's silly being stern with me, then doing that. I feel quite huffed about it, after all. I think he knows that, for I gave him quite a look, which was very daring of me, but I meant to do.


    Maude's Day-Book

    I had a lovely time playing with Richard, but I could not have done it if Mama had not tied him up. Or could I? I wonder. He is like all young men and does not know how to behave himself. I like older men because they are more interesting to talk to.

    I have to go and see some gentlemen friends of Step-Papa's tomorrow, but I don't know why. Mama says that she does not know, except it is some business that a young lady has to know. Step-Papa told me to wear a waist corset and to lace it tight. What a funny thing to say! He has seen me in it once, though Mama does not know. I had my drawers on at the time, but nothing else. I let him feel my titties and we kissed. I do think he is nice; I do not mind. He felt my bottom, too, and put his finger in the 'groove', though only through my knickers. Was it nice, he asked. I wanted to say yes (it tickles funnily and makes me squirm), but I just said that I did not mind. -'What a lovely bulb you have', he said and caressed it all about and underneath. I felt quite swoony and wish that he would do it more, but Mama is jealous of him, I am sure. She wishes to pretend I don't know what she does! I have heard her kissing Deirdre Mansfield several times-and after that episode in the bathroom weeks ago, I don't know what to think. Or rather, yes I do, and that's the wicked part.

    I hope these friends of Step-Papa's are nice to me. He says they will be 'in a special way', but does not tell me what it is.


    Muriel's Day-Book

    Daisy has a fey look about her, and I am sure something has happened. I have teased her, and so has Jane, but can get no word from her. Should we put her up to Phillip? No, I think not-there are dangers there. It is exciting, though, to see him work a female. There is a little measure of cruelty in me, so Jane says, but I do not think it to be so. Celia, after all, enjoyed herself, and women frequently wish their struggle to be overcome. I know I did when less than half her age.

    A letter arrived, addressed to me, from Deirdre. She is enjoying her newfound freedom and asks after Sylvia, of course, but not Phillip. Last night I made him do 'Mouth Number One'. Having filled myself with wine, and while Jane kept Sylvia occupied, I led him to the bathroom nearest to his room and made him strip and lie down in the bath upon his back.

    He begins by being silent always, but then whines. He asked me what I meant to do.

    'Mouth Number One', I said. He has the list and should have learned it all by now.

    'Oh no!', he gasped and tried to rise, but I put one leg over the side of the bath and pinned him down.

    'Down, cur! Have you not learned obedience yet?', I asked. And yet withal I felt a certain tenderness for him and bent and frigged his prick up to a fine good stand that mollified him, for he groaned a groan or two-no more. I spoke to him of Celia's bottom while I did. He grimaced, yet I sensed the pleasure he had had from it. He was a 'good boy' then and must be now, I said. My belly swilled with wine. I had to grit my teeth to hold myself, stripped as I was to just a petticoat. He likes to look up in-between my legs more now. My straddled legs allowed him a perfect view. He gazed up at me blindly and licked his lips. The bath was cold beneath his back, he said, but I ignored that silly plea.

    I worked my fingers up and down his prick and couched his balls in my free hand. I swear they are now heavier from being exercised more than in the past, and told him so. I said-just to help bring him on-that he would have to give it soon to Sylvia.

    'Do not speak so!', he begged.

    'She will make you come a lot, you know', I teased. His eyes held dreams, his buttocks squirmed.

    'You would not, Muriel-could not!'

    “Then be a good boy and give me all, and I will give you something in return. Her cunny will be warm and tight, will suck you deeply in and…'

    'Aaaargh!', he gurgled. Few men can resist erotic words when they are being frigged. Phillip is no exception now, though he once thought himself to be. His cock throbbed mightily-out shot the creamy jets. Descending on my hand, they splashed my wrist.-'Moo-moo-moo-Muriel!', he moaned and frothed the more, and then was limply done. I let it bubble on a bit, then wiped my fingers on a towel.

    He who gives must receive, I said, and got into the bath, raised up my petticoat and lowered my waiting quim over his mouth. He kept his lips together at the first, but then I took his weakening cock and again twisted it.

    'Phillip, don't be naughty', so I scolded him. I have the measure of him now. He adores to be spoken to like that, though might deny it in the light of day. I twisted more and caused his mouth to open wide, his lips on either side of my lovelips.-This is called water games', I said, though never had I done such a thing before.

    I held back for a moment, then I gushed. O golden rain descending forcefully into his mouth! He spluttered, gargled, choked. I held him still by force of my bottom's weight. His heels drummed on the bottom of the bath. I had not finished yet.

    'Is it not good wine?', I laughed, and afforded him another flow-though lifting slightly, let it gush around his face, the golden spray and droplets sparkling on his skin, and more choked, anguished sounds from him.

    I rose and clambered out and left him spluttering and very wet. My wicked deed was done. A strange and perverse thrill it gave me, too. I threw a towel upon his limp, soaked form, told him to bathe and go to bed. It is better always to end curtly on such things. This I have learned with Phillip, at the least, and do not doubt that other men are so who come beneath a woman's heel.

    'I must anoint him, too', says Jane who so often follows what I do.

    'I think he will expect it now', I said. I believe that to be true. I believe that Phillip could not express himself successfully before with women, and that without his knowing it he wished to be conquered by them rather than conquer. He is happier in his dismay than he would be had he continued to live in what he thought of as his normal way. Last night I told Sylvia that we were going to play a silly game, and that upon entering her father's study to say goodnight to him, she was to tell him to rise upon her entrance.

    As I expected, she was most doubtful of doing this, but was prodded in the right direction by Jane also- indeed we had to physically prod her up the stairs to do it! At his door she hesitated and I waved my hand at her insistently. She knocked and entered and I heard her voice say tightly, 'Papa, please stand up'. A minute later she was out, and with a huge smile on her face like a pauper who has found a ten-pound note.

    'He did it!', she whispered in her wonderment.

    'Of course. You must continue so to act', I said. I thereupon entered the study in turn and gave some mild praise to Phillip for performing correctly in the presence of a female.

    'I was already standing up', he protested, which I knew was not true.

    'Just continue to be obedient, Phillip, that is all'.

    His knob protruded through his trousercloth. The excitement of submission brings him up as quickly as does anything. I have told Sylvia to rub herself against it next time-briefly, and no more than that. How shocked she looked, and all the questions in her eyes! Dear Jane, though, backed me up in that. How fortunate I am to have her with me all the time!


    Sylvia's Day-Book

    I do not know what to think sometimes. Things that I always thought were rude are not so, and neither are things that are naughty. These are just 'disguise words', both my aunties said to me. I really listen to them, though, I really do. They have to tell me things the men cannot, they said, and besides I am growing up and must get used to it. They make me say things like 'cock' and 'prick' when they are talking with me now. I think Daisy knows those words as well. I am going to ask her when she comes! I'm sure she'll say she does already know. She tries to be a clever puss sometimes, but I don't mind because I like her all the same.

    I know how men put their stiff things in girls now. It can go up in my bottom, too, said Aunty Jane, told me that was why they put their fingers there when we're in bed together. Ooooh! I can't imagine anything so big in such a naughty place, but they said I'm going to have to do it soon. I don't know what to think of that.

    I think I will tell Daisy-if I dare. Aunt Muriel thinks that she already knows. I asked her how she knew that but she wouldn't say.


    Deirdre's Day-Book

    Three days have passed now since Richard's last visit. He is to go tomorrow again-for the last time, I hope. As to Amy, I knew not what to say to her after Maurice had departed. Finally I could not help myself and asked her if she felt happy. What a foolish thing to ask! She blushed and said she did and turned away. I know all the emotions in her heart as well as I know the springlike stirrings in her slender form.

    I approached her and she kept her back to me. Maurice was a nice man I ventured. She but nodded and kept her shoulders tight. Suddenly she spun around and cuddled into me.

    'Oh, Mama!', she said in wonderment.

    'It is nice', I said. Another foolish thing to say, yet she understood as much from it as I wished her to. I wanted her reply in any case, to feel more settled in myself. It was, she said in a small voice, and to my great relief as well. It was always so, I said, and stroked her hair. I wanted her to feel appeased. Then Richard entered and he stared at us in our embrace and asked what was to do. Amy then burst at him to go away and told him he was stupid-but I understood the flaring of her feelings then. Richard looked sulky and went back upstairs where nowadays he spends much time a-brooding in his room. It is not good for him.

    'I am sorry I said that to him', said Amy after he had gone. I told her that I understood. And then, in one of those bursts of false confidence that one sometimes has, I told her that if she enjoyed herself I did not mind. Her 'Yes, Mama' was one of as much relief to her as to me. I told her I would talk to Richard, and she then was pleased- so much so that she knew not how to put her face and whether to look serious or gay. My words have helped her, and that comforts me. She is more fit to deal with men; I realize that now, and Eveline was right.

    I resolved to settle things with Richard, too. He sat all doleful on his bed. I told him Amy had apologised. He wanted then to say something, but could not find the words. His eyes settled on my middle part as if he no longer dared to look up or down. It is much better for him so to be. An awkward silence then obtained that I resented in myself and knew my weakness all again that Eveline does not always recognise.

    'You had best come to my room when Amy is asleep tonight', I said. I walked out straight away and left my words to float about him as I knew they would. What a long day it was! I knew not how to be, but finally decided on the actions I must take. Retiring to my room at last, I remained clothed when Richard quietly slipped in and stood before me wonderingly, though with some hint of hope within his eyes.

    I asked him if he would be good. He said he would. -Then you will kneel and tell me so', I said, and felt a pleasure that I forced the words. He knelt at once! Oh joy that Eveline has trained him so. I walked around him slowly, let my skirt brush at his back (I am a better listener often than dear Eveline imagines that I am) and told him to get up, but not turn around.

    He did so willingly to my surprise. His hands were clenched, the knuckles almost white. What was his state of mind, I wonder, then? Eveline says one never asks. It shows a weakness in such circumstance, she says.

    The hardest part of my task was then to begin. To Richard's total amazement, I am sure, I told him to unbutton himself below, but otherwise not to move and not to turn. He did so, and his pego came out stiff. I saw it as I glanced around his side, for I was standing still behind him like some ever-watchful crone. The crest glowed wondrously but looked a little red-from too much rubbing, I believe.

    'Now you will leave and go to bed', I said-but oh, with what a tremor in my voice! I tried much to disguise it, though.

    I heard his teeth grind. 'Oh, Mama!', he pleaded. That I think of as the breaking point. Had I weakened then… but I did not, and felt a greater sense of freedom than I ever knew before. How strange!

    I did not answer him. Cock showing still, he slouched out of my room and-in some burst of fitfulness-then went along the corridor and slammed his door.

    'Oh, the noise!', called Amy from her room.

    'He is a bad boy, Amy-I will see to him', I shouted back. It helped me to say that as well. She knew that I would then be in his room, as indeed I was in but a moment. Richard trembled at my entrance-had one hand upon his prick. He snatched it away and said in tones of anguish, 'Oh, Mama-I did not mean…'

    I did not recognise myself as I thrust him down upon his bed, his buttocks uppermost, and pulled his trousers down. SMACK! went my hand and SMACK! again, and Amy joyfully calling out, 'Go on, Mama!'

    'Shush! Go to sleep!', I told her back and smacked and smacked again while Richard yelped and rubbed his cock against the quilt. This taking my imagination, I took hold of it with my free hand and let it urge back-forth within my palm the while I spanked his reddened bottom more.

    “Woh-woh!', he yelped quite shamelessly. I heard Amy's door open at the same time. I told her to go back, but curiosity overcame her and she peeped within. Richard did not see her for his nose was buried in the quilt, his buttocks flaring from my heavy smacks. His cries were part of pain and part of pleasure all the time. Amy saw what I did and stared. I shook my head at her to go away and venged myself on Richard's bottom all the more.

    'I can't, I can't!', he choked out. Oh, too late I made to take my hand away. He jetted, frothed, and spilled upon the bed, and Amy with her hand up to her mouth and standing in the doorway at the time. Still Richard did not see her, though. More wildly did I motion her to leave. The floorboards did not creak, at least. She stepped back then, and I with a very sticky hand was quick to follow, closing Richard's door and leaving him to sob. Downstairs into the dark I ran, and Amy following on her bare feet. I lit the gas lamps, could not speak, and poured myself some wine, wiping my wicked hand upon my gown. I did not think of it as wicked, though, but that it had done a useful task.

    Amy went to the sideboard and poured herself some wine, then came and sat beside me on the couch. How different silences can be! This had no awkwardness in it and slowly I relaxed. The palm that I had spanked him with was stinging still, and Amy sucked her lower lip in, looked at it, and said, 'It's red!'-and then we started giggling, both of us and could not stop and had to wipe our eyes. I told her to be quiet, but that was all. Nothing was otherwise said. We were conspirators. I had not sinned in her eyes, but done right.

    We ceased our giggles, finished off our wine, then went upstairs again, though on tiptoe. An awesome silence came from Richard's room. I kissed her at her door and said goodnight.-'Goodnight, Mama', she said in turn, and looked at me with reverence!

    I feel delighted at the outcome of it all and cannot wait to tell Eveline what transpired. There will be no more nonsense now from Richard, that I know. This morning he was courtesy itself, and Amy did not laugh at him. She pretended that she did not know of it. I am very proud of her for that, and was quite cheery with Richard, to his great relief. The bubble has broken, and the very air seems freer now.


    CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

    Maurice's Day-Book

    Maude's bottom has been breached, and very thoroughly, I hear. The chaps enjoyed themselves with her. She put up some resistance, not too much-just as I expected of the dear girl.

    'She has a lovely bum, old fellow, you must try her out', was said to me in confidence afterwards. Eveline, being all a-flutter, followed behind us at a distance into town, saw me go in with Maude and then emerge. How bright her eyes were at the sight of me! I insisted that we take a drink downstairs in the hotel while Maude was receiving her first accolades. How squirmy Eveline was herself!

    'What are they doing with her now?', she asked again, again, and looked up at the ceiling as she spoke.

    'You may ask her, dear, when she comes down', said I. She-always confident at other times-was all a-twitter then, said she must leave. But no, I said. She had to stay, or she would think I might go up myself.

    'Oh you-you'll do it with her now in any case', she pouted, sought assurance, but got none. I felt that I had shown my worth enough.

    'Are we not libertarians still?', I asked. All in my mind, of course, the while we spoke were visions of Maude's bottom being plugged. Percy had her first, I learned. His prick is slightly smaller than the rest and made its entry with aplomb, burrowed between her cheeks and then was in. She jerked and moaned a lot at first, but took it well- did not strain forward as they sometimes do.

    'Yes, but I want to go', said Eveline.

    'She will come downstairs in a minute', I said, for forty minutes had already passed. They were not to linger afterwards with Maude, for I had told them so. In but five minutes they trooped down. Much flushed she was, and Stephen's arm around her waist. Turning the stairwell, she made to let him kiss her cheek, saw her Mama and blushed the deepest red, of course. Eveline stood stricken in the lobby. I did not. I offered up my bluffest smile and strode towards her, took her arm, complimented my companions, and led her swiftly out while Eveline slowly followed as if she did not belong! I, much amused, saw to their comfort in the carriage and back home we came- a fretsome journey at the first, for Eveline would not speak and nor would Maude which, as I saw it, gave the game away in a less tactful fashion than we like to do. Maude went upstairs and Eveline sat dumb once we were in:

    'You are being silly, Eveline', I said.

    'Perhaps I am. I don't know what to think. If you go in her room tonight…'

    'I may', I interrupted puckishly.

    'Oh, what? Oh, Maurice, no!'

    'Get up! Come here!', I said. I never knew her to be so before. She obeyed me, though, and tucked into my arms, began to sob. I was not taken in by that.-'I said I may. I did not say I would', I said. I wiped her tiny tears and kissed her mouth. So fragrant was it with desire!

    'I want if, she said moodily, tried not laugh. 'Go up and talk to Maude', I said. She would not go at first. I made her do, and left the house to ride about the grounds, saw to the fences, kept my mind alert, and then returned within the hour by when they had descended once again.

    'Maude, you will kiss me first, and properly. Then I will take your mother up to bed', I said as bold as brass, new not any other way to handle it.

    She got up slowly, walked with mincing steps. I wondered much what they had talked about. No sooner had she reached me than I took her in my arms and beckoned Eveline to us. Oh, what a LOOK she had upon her face like a schoolgirl who does not know whether to laugh or cry! I kissed their mouths-Maude first, then Eveline, and felt their bottoms gently as I did, then said to Eveline, 'Now, woman, come upstairs!'

    Meekly she followed me.-'I love you so', she said and took her drawers off, lay upon the bed. I mounted her without preliminaries then and fucked her sturdily in silence, swallowing her moans. No word was said. I wanted it to be thus, and she as well, maybe. I do not know.

    'There-you are done, and now be quiet', I said.

    'Yes, Maurice', came her meek reply.

    I shall have Maude soon enough. She knows it well. That is to say, that Eveline knows it well, but nothing need be said on it, and as to Maude, I know that fleeting look of hers, as if to say, 'You can, then, if you want'. I shall take my time about the matter, though. What the eye does not see, the heart cannot grieve over, so they say. Besides, a little secrecy will add a further mite of salt to it.


    Deirdre's Day-Book

    Eveline has told me what transpired with Maude- the whole of it, I'm sure of that, even to the moment when he kissed them both and felt their bottoms as he did. I must confess that I wondered for a while whether I was being made a confidante in this, or whether she wanted to confess! I think it was a little bit of both, and that amused me, I must say.

    What did I think of it, she asked. I thought the same of her as of myself, I said, and told her how I handled Richard, which diverted her. I felt I had the uppermost for once. If one plays with people's lives, I said, one had to learn to have one's played with, too.

    'Oh, Deirdre, you are wiser than I took you for', was her reply. She is clearly anxious about Maurice and her Maude, and fears she may be dispossessed of his affection if he gets too often with the girl.

    I had to tell her that was nonsense to my ears, but even so she stayed uncertain. From what I have seen of Maurice, he is more obedient to her than she thinks, and this I told her first of all, then followed it with an outrageous plan which I am sure will work though, for it must. She listened open-mouthed, said several times, 'Oh, no!', but I insisted and went on and on-have almost turned the tables round on her.

    'Now think about it, Eveline', I said. She looked dismayed, put out, and gazed askance at me that I should try to take the upper hand. If I let Amy do it, as I had, then she must do the same, I said, or all her 'principles' would go for naught. That hit 'below the mark', and yet I think it may have worked. It has given quite a new direction to her thoughts. I cannot wait to hear what now transpires!


    Maude's Day-Book

    Mama knew what had happened to me with those naughty men! I am to say that first, she says-for everything I write she wants to see. Today she spoke of it again and told me why I had to put my bottom up. Young ladies thus keep their virginity (officially) she said. It teaches them to be submissive also, at the first. She wanted to know whether all three of them had done it well and come in me. We have never talked like this before! I said they had, and pulled a face.

    'You pushed your bottom out well, so I understand', Mama said next. I wanted to say no, that I did not. Those awful men have talked about me now! My bottom still feels funny. I can feel them put it in. I didn't mind the second, though. The third I was more ready for. His prick went up me easily. I had to tell her all of that! I whispered all the time and had to keep repeating what I said.- There's a good girl', said Mama several times.

    Having learned all that I could tell, she rose and smoothed her gown and said 'Good' in a funny voice. As she was going out, she turned and said, 'Maude, I may call you in tonight. You will come immediately, you hear?'

    I thought she had 'traitored' on me-that I was to be birched. That made no sense, though, to my mind. I went up early last night and tried to go to sleep so that I would not hear her call me, but that did not work. She knocked upon my door and said, 'Now, come!' I only had my nightgown on and wondered much what was to do. Maurice was lying in the bed, his back to me. Mama said I would sleep that night with them! I wanted to say no, but then she pushed and made me fell on top of him! I rolled as quickly as I could and got between the sheets with Mama on my other side.

    'Now go to sleep', she said. Our legs all touched and I could hardly move. I lay upon my back and stared the ceiling out. His toes touched mine, they tickled me, withdrew. His head drooped on my shoulder. Mama turned her back and made all sounds of going off to sleep while I lay rigid, didn't dare to move. Then Maurice put his hand upon my thigh and began to grope my nightie up! I could not move my arms to fend him off in case Mama should feel me do so. Inch by inch his hand crept underneath my flimsy covering and felt my thighs, all warm and moist with wonderment.

    He has done that before, but not in bed. I have to write that down as well, Mama said. I think she scorns me for my wickedness. I hope she writes, 'I don't!' when she reads this!

    Anyway, he did it to me. Mama was not asleep at all. That's all I need to write, Mama says, so I will. It is to remind me every day, of what I MUSTN'T do she says, but does NOT mind me being naughty otherwise! I can play with Richard, if I want. The way I did before? I am not sure. Mama says I must ask his Mama first. She said she'll do it for me if I don't. I'm sure I couldn't, so she'll have to, anyway. Are you reading this, Mama? I hope you are.


    Maurice's Day-Book

    Quelle nuit! A sudden turn-about by Eveline, so I thought, but the deuce of it, she was clever with it all the same. I knew naught of what was in her mind until she made my cock to stand in bed but would not have me touch her in return.

    'No, dear, you are to nest in Maude tonight', she said to my astonishment, and then unveiled her plan with all the frankness that she has, concealing nothing of her thoughts and fears, much as I reassured her all the time.- 'Even so, you will do it my way-do you understand, Maurice? We have not had secrecies as yet and will not have them in the future. I know females better than you do, my love, and will not have a daughter as a rival in my house, nor have you flit from my bed to her own. You will sperm her once within my sight, then I will deal with her myself. I will brook no intrigues after that with her unless I know of them beforehand and assent to them'.

    'I adore you, Eveline. You are the very air I breathe', I said.

    That is as may be, dear. We have no jealousies as such, nor ever had-are fortunate in that. There will be girls the more, and ladies, too, but Maude just once. You understand?'

    I said I did. Dammit, my prick was hard-she all the while a-squeezing, rubbing it. She would not even kiss me-kept her face away. I never really knew the like of it-we who have cozened several girls in bed between us and enjoyed our bouts of Venus with them all. With Maude, who is a most delicious fuck, she has this strange fear of propinquity, and perhaps also a needless fear that her daughter is a younger, fresher image of herself.

    'I did not marry you for body only, but for mind and body both', I said, and overcame her strangeness for a moment in succeeding then to clasp her in my arms, my penis throbbing up against her thigh.

    'You want to watch', I said. I knew her mind-the comers that the torch of words can quick illuminate.

    'Perhaps'. Her honesty will always out. Her voice was thick and sludged against my mouth. She tried to turn her mind, could not. I felt her cheek hot-flushed to mine, then with resolve she slipped out of the bed and told me she would bring her in.

    I will not venture into the preliminaries of Maude's wondering entrance and her careful shuffling into bed. Eveline pretended early sleep while very, very slowly I caressed the girl. Ah, what a fuck she proved! I have to say it now. Her cunny is well-furred, the lips quite tight. Several times before I ventured her did she choke down a moan or two, but lay still-petrified, I think, lest we should wake her Mama up.

    I stroked her cunny gently-could not really reach the lips, save for the small, sweet junction at the top. She kept her thighs together all the time. But softly, softly did the trick. My knuckles stroked her face, around her mouth. Her legs then opened just a little bit-allowed my finger to invade the stickiness, the warmth I found. Twice did she shake her head, but then I brought her mouth to mine-tip of her tongue. How glorious that felt, and all in silence, all in seeming secrecy!

    I levered out her thighs the more. Reluctantly she conceded. First I stroked her belly and her curls, then brought her hand down to my standing cock. She rubbed it gently while I teased her quim. My tongue intruded deep into her mouth. I rolled her slowly on her hip, was face to face with her and felt her bum.

    'Mustn't!', she whispered softly in my ear.

    A spoken signal was to have been mine. She did not know that, though, but Eveline could sense all that had occurred. The tiny movements of the bed, of hands, told all. A tigress then she turned, took Maude's shoulders and turned her down again upon her back.

    'Ma-ma!', shrieked the young heroine of the piece.

    'Now have her, darling-do her well', was said, whereat Maude tried to draw her legs up, keep them closed, but Eveline thrust the bedclothes down and pulled her daughter's nightdress up about her waist. O glory of bared belly, hips, dark bush and lustrous, silky thighs! — 'Open them, Maude!', snapped Eveline and kept her pressure on Maude's shoulders all the time.

    'Mama, I won't! Stop him! Oh, please!'

    'Get on her Maurice, do, for goodness sake. Open her legs, my love, and put it in'.

    'Oooh-wah!' from Maude then as I parted her fine limbs, and though she twisted, jerked, I nubbed my charger to her fulsome nest, felt tickled by her curls and found the lips. My goodness, how she struggled, though! The sheet was rucked beneath us and the bed awry, the blankets falling on the floor.

    'Maude! Will you stop it, you bad girl!', my wife hissed at her.

    'Mama, I don't, I…oooh! It's going in!'

    Her body reared. I had to flatten her, put all my weight down on her, cupped her warm, sleek bum and grooved my penis slowly in her nest the while she hissed and spluttered, moaned, twisted her head this way and that. A jolting of my hips-one long, strong lunge-and I was sheathed, her belly under mine, my pubic hairs a-rasping to her own.

    'I have her, Eveline!', I gasped.

    'Mama! Oh, please! Goo-hooo!'-I holding her flat under me, keeping my cock full-sheathed in that warm sponginess and raining kisses on her face and neck. My love sat up, legs twisted under her and gazed down on her daughter's face. Their mouths were open and their feces flushed. I worked Maude's nightgown up beneath her arms and tended to her nipples with my lips. She moaned and bucked still under my full weight, the big plum of her bottom on my palms.-'Oh, please don't do it to me- OOOH!'

    I snorted with delight, I do confess-buried my face beside her head just for a moment, blind to Eveline whose breathing I could hear above. I felt Maude go a little limp and stirred my cock an inch or so.

    'No!', came her bleat, but she was quieter then. I worked my piston out, then in again-felt the delirious thrill of it. Her cunny clenched, relaxed, and clenched again and held me in the tightest grip.-'Doh-doh-don't want to!', came a moan from Maude, but she was more quiescent then, could feel the inner throbbings of my prick.

    I raised myself on one arm then-felt quite berserk with love for them, and to a cry from Eveline brought her down to lie alongside Maude.

    'Pmfff!', choked my wife, her mouth beneath my own while I began to stir my prick the more in Maude's warm tunnel of delight. Ah, such an impassioned battle then began as I would have thought could be! My tongue found Eveline's. Maude's bum began to work. Despite herself, she could not stay her hips from responding to my slowly slewing prick. Her arms wound round my shoulders and her fingernails dug in my skin. Our bellies smacked together as we worked. I, slipping my left hand from beneath her wriggling bottom, found my wife's own sticky quim and fingered her ecstatically.

    A moo-ing came from Eveline. Her own hips twisted, bumped to Maude's. I brought… dear heavens, yes, I brought their mouths together in the end. At first they would not, but I made them do. Or rather, I should say, their tongues touched but their lips would not. How curious-yet what a feverish flare of passion reigned! All three of us were lost. I felt Maude spurt, and Eveline too. They came again, again, all sobs and cries that floated like warm blossoms on the air. What juicy sounds, what anguished moans! My lips roamed both their mouths, our three tongues touched. Electric shocks! Maude's right leg hooked itself in wildness on her mother's, and I came, I came, I came, I came, until her cunny sucked in the last drops, and all was still, was very still, Maude's belly trembling under mine.

    'Go to bed, Maude', came from Eveline at last. I had already rolled off from the girl and lay upon my back, replete.-'You will not do it with your Step-Papa again, you hear?', she murmured in a limp and broken tone, as if she had meant to say it all the time.

    Maude vanished like a pale, half-naked wraith. Eveline flustered as I drew her to me, hid her face, then wound her arms about my neck.

    'You did not whip her afterwards. You said you would- to teach her, dear', said I.

    'I know'. A little mumble from her lips. 'You do not love me now, I know you don't', and mournful as a long-lost child her voice.

    'Probably not. We shall divorce and I shall marry Maude', I smiled.

    'S'pose it was nice with her', she said, and would not lift her face at all until I made her do and kissed her lips.

    'Oh, FAR, far better than with you', I said.

    'I hate you now, you know I do. You will not do it with her any more, you hear?'

    'Bien entendu, pet-of course'. And so the badinage went on. She held me tightly till she slept. In the morning, to her great surprise, I spoke to Maude in front of her. I said that we would kiss occasionally as fondly as we always had, but that was all, and that was all.

    “We are all at fault', said Eveline. The pair embraced, and all seems well.

    Maude does possess a lovely bottom, though. Perhaps one day when Eveline is out…


    CHAPTER NINETEEN

    Phillip's Day-Book

    I am chided constantly for 'writing mournful things'- so Muriel puts it, and Jane, too. Their machinations now have cast a cloud upon the innocence of Sylvia. I know well what their game is even though I stand up now when she comes in my room. It is a courtesy to do, I tell myself. I have thought of her too long as still a child. Muriel has reminded me of that. She may be right. I give her that one point, though Sylvia is not eighteen yet, dammit, no.

    Thus my resistance rises, yet it falls as soon as Muriel comes into me. Her eyes have that commanding look that I succumb to more and more. Ugh! horror of the bath and what she did! A monstrous happening. I all but drowned in that out-gushing from between her legs. Women pee far more strongly than do men. It is not fair to treat me so. I said as much to Jane. She simply smiled.

    'You wish it so', she said, but I do not, and will say so to my dying breath.-'Do not be tiresome, Phillip', was her cool reply. She made me write down 'Women's pee' a hundred times just like a schoolboy-even made me count in front of her the stupid, silly lines I wrote. She was not satisfied, of course.-'I must service Jane tonight- write that', she said and on and on I had to pen the words while she took my free hand between her legs and had me soothe her thighs between. She knows the tempting of that well, so warm and silky is her skin above her stocking tops. My finger touched her crotch; I could not help. She had no drawers on, and I felt her curls.

    Was I requested to do that, she asked. My pen ceased and I shook my head. The awful thought came like a big black bird upon my head that I wanted her to punish me. I swear I have not thought that before and was as one whose head is spinning, runs down a long corridor, in darkness fighting at the narrow walls.

    She knew, she knew. She saw my face.

    'It is time for you to speak your heart. Now, speak', she said. She spun my swivel chair around, brought me to face her, then with a lewd smile she raised her dress, exposed her quim, and brushed her fingers under it. She would not tell Muriel if I spoke, she said. O fool that I believed her then! — 'Come on, or I shall whip you, Phillip, shall pull your trousers down in front of Sylvia and Rose. I mean it, and you know I will'.

    Oh god, how cold her voice was then! Her thighs were straddled, and her finger moved. All crooked it moved beneath her cunnylips, teased at their pouting, worked among the curls that sprout upon her milk-white skin.

    'I want to kiss your legs', I said. I swear I said it to divert. I swear I did not mean to say.

    'And after that-what would you do? Come, speak up! I will make you write it down and leave it for the world to see. You want to fuck me, do you not? To get your naughty prick into my slit?'

    'I want to kiss your legs', I said again. I mumbled it- would not say what she said.

    'You are a bad boy, Phillip, are you not? All right- unbutton. Let me see your drawers. Do not get up, my lad-just push them down. Oho, your prick is getting stiff, I see! More, please-right down, I said. That's better. Now untie your drawers and push them under you in turn. I love to see your balls squashed on the seat. Now, push your bottom forward to the edge. Quickly, my boy, or I'll call Sylvia. I swear she wants to see it big'.

    'Don't, please!', I groaned. Her will was done. I squatted awkwardly, displayed, both drawers and trousers wreathed below my knees, my penis like a flagpole sticking up.

    'I will give it what it wants. Shall I?', she cooed. She tucked her dress up more and bared her hips, her garters silvery and pink, her stockings a dark blue against her skin. Ah, parting of her cuntlips that I saw! I am to write that down, and have. 'Mere words-what are mere words?', she asks, They are as fluff upon the wind. The doing of it is the thing'.

    Oh treacherous her seeming-tender smile! She moved upon me, standing, her legs wide, the insides of her thighs outside my own, her hands clasped on my shoulders. Her bare bum hovered an inch above my standing prick. She reached behind her, reached for down, steadied my cock beneath her waiting quim. Her face grew florid, cheeks were puffed. Fool that I was, I should have known.

    'I want to piss. Sit still!', she gritted then, the full weight of her arms upon my shoulders pressed. Her nose touched mine, lips sultry, half apart.-'Now-touch your tongue to mine', she breathed.

    'Mistress!', I groaned. The word came out.

    'Yes, Phillip, you're a good boy now'.

    I groaned, I gritted, tip of tongue to tip, my face not daring to lean forward more. Peach of her slit that barely touched my quivering knob. She would not press it down, would not, but stayed thus, ever taunting me, faint tingling of saliva to my own.

    'Ask me to wet your prick-come on!', she breathed.

    I panted-felt my veins a-throb, then shamefully the words fell from my lips, causing my tongue to quiver more to hers, hearing her husky laughter. Then the stream! O golden gushing out upon my prick! The harshness of her pissing stung my tool, especially about the crest. My loins were drenched. I dared not even jerk. On, on it came, her belly puffed. I heard it trickle to the floor. It ran down in my trouser legs.

    'Phillip, your tongue more! Ah! It's going in!'

    It was. I felt the trembling of her knees, the clawing of her fingers through my shirt. Her cunny opened like a rose, absorbed my stinging knob, then sheathed it in until her bum was full upon my thighs. Dear god, I jerked, I jetted straightaway, full up in her the wondrous lava spat. She moaned, to my delight, and pressed down more. Her face moved and she bit upon my ear. I squealed like a stuck pig and came the more, all quivering, all throbbing all the time. She moaned. At least she moaned. Was it desire? The last fell shoots of sperm, and I was done. She sighed a huge sigh, kept her saddle long, jerked up and down as though demanding more, and then unsheathed herself and stood, brushed back her hair, I dripping wet.

    'Wash! Change your clothes!', she spat at me, and thrust her dress down as she spoke, then turned towards the door.

    'Oh, Jane!', I groaned. Despair was on me deep.

    'Yes? What?', her voice snapped out.

    'Nothing', I mumbled.

    'Good', she said, and then was gone, and I left in my wan douleur — sickness of satisfaction and frustration, too. Yes-I confess that which I would not speak, and she may read here all she seeks to read.

    'He would fuck us if we let him', Muriel said last night when they both stood over me.

    'I know. He's dirty. Come to bed', said Jane.

    Thus do they make my life despair. I had to lick their shoes the while they spoke. My once-beloved will never write, I know. I am left alone in sin and misery.


    Sylvia's Day-Book

    I spoke to Daisy, and she knows! I mean, she knows about men's things. I told her that I did as well. They put it in you if they can', she said. I went all red and said 'I know'. We both said 'cock' and 'prick'-tried not to laugh, then Aunty Muriel came in and BOTH of us went red. I KNEW she was going to ask us what we spoke about, and did. We would not tell her, though. At first she didn't seem to mind and said that girls should talk about all things-and things that HAPPENED to them just as much, she said.

    'Have you been good?', she asked Daisy next, and Daisy said she had, but still blushed. I had a sudden feeling why she blushed. I'm sure she has not told me everything, but I did, and that isn't fair. I think Aunt Muriel thought so, too. She stared at her for a long time and said she wished to talk to her, and that I was to go into the garden with Aunty Jane.

    Daisy looked very awed at that and twisted all her fingers round. Outside I then asked Aunty Jane what they would talk about. She would not say.-'Oh, Daisy is more advanced than you', she said.-'She isn't!', I replied. That made her laugh. It made me sulky, though.-'I told you that you will have it soon enough', she said, and then we heard a shriek from Daisy from upstairs! I wanted to run in. Aunt Jane said no.

    'Why? Is she spanking her?', I asked. I could not understand at all.

    'No, she is not. Look! Aren't the roses nice?'

    I didn't care about the silly flowers. I wanted to know what was going on, but did not say so. Daisy didn't shriek again. The curtains of Papa's study were pulled to. Aunt Jane said I want not to look.

    'Your Papa is working, dear', she said, sat down beside me and gave a funny smile. That's all that she would say except for ordinary things. A whole half hour we sat there- then Aunt Muriel called. Daisy had gone home, she said. Oh, I was really put out then. She hadn't even said goodbye, I said.

    'She was too full to speak, I think', said Aunty Muriel-and laughed! When I see Daisy I will tell her off.

    Phillip's Day-Book

    Daisy! To what depths have they fallen now! I knew her by her footsteps, by her squeaks, and even by her body-scent which is different from Sylvia's. They did not think of that-that I would guess. I was blindfolded, strapped into my chair, was gagged and had my tool exposed.

    I heard the scutterings of feet-heard my door open, heard her brought to me. A hand touched at my upright prong.-'Go on, go on, do as I told you to', said Muriel to her. O moist, warm rose of mouth upon my knob! O bliss the slow, sweet sucking up and down, the hissing of her breath from out her nose, the slippery sounds her young mouth made at its lewd task!

    'He will come a lot-just let him come-suck on him when he does and drain his balls', I heard from Muriel.

    The hissing sounds grew louder. Hot breath flowed with the saliva that my prick immersed itself within in that soft cave. Life flowed in me, pulsed out. I never knew such richness yet. My buttocks squirmed and tightened. Her lips slooped, made sucking noises, drew on me. Oh, frail am I that I should feel desire.

    'Good girl! Now frig him with your fingers-quick!'

    Dear heavens, how I came! Each surging jet of come leaped down her throat. I heard her gargle, choke, believe her head was pressed. More of my cock was drawn within. I felt the swimminess within her mouth, the glutinaceous flood from me that cloyed her tongue and onward flowed. She pumped my penis still with her slim hand, licking round my spilling knob as she was told, and left me empty as an unfilled sack, a weakness flowing through all my limbs.

    Not until after she had gone was I released. I heard the carriage drive away. Then Muriel released me, did not speak except to scold me for what I have not written in my so-called book-a mess of papers that lie all about, all scribbled on and passages expunged. I am to begin again, she said, and has repeated it tonight. I am to 'lay the chapters out and make a framework of the plot'.

    My head swirls and I cannot think of anything save that warm-sucking mouth. My penance is to brood on it, to think how lustfully I soiled her lips.

    'Be careful that you get to work and write. The next young mouth may not be Daisy's', Jane said to me on reading this.

    I try, I try. They will not stop at anything. I have no fear to write this; they will merely laugh and say that they agree with that.


    Celia's Day-Book

    I visited Mama today, and felt exactly like an actress who has somehow wandered into the wrong play and finds her lines are wrong, the scenery all changed. I am not what I was nor ever shall be again. I am drawn not only towards Muriel, but that which she holds out to me: the promises, the lure, of sins I otherwise would spurn. I know I would.

    Daisy came back from there two days ago, all perky and a little flushed. I did not ask her what had passed. I almost feared to. Is that wrong of me? She is coming quickly into bloom more now.-'Let her grow up and let her be', says Jane. I suppose I must.

    Was she hungry-had she eaten, I asked Daisy, though their hospitality is always good. I have had some perfectly delicious roast duck there-a l'orange-and cream puffs, too. Their cook is excellent.-'Did you have cream puffs, dear, today?', I asked. To my astonishment she went bright red, then said 'Oh yes, I did-cream puffs!', and ran upstairs. Some girls seem always at a silly age.

    I remarked on this to Muriel who laughed.-'Cream puffs? Oh yes, she swallowed everything', she said, and mystified me more at that. Perhaps it is a private joke.

    We kissed, spoke of obedience and love, or rather it was she who linked them up.-'Would you enjoy to be obedient to me?', she asked. I knew of what she meant that last time there. I asked her who the man had been. A distant relative of sorts, she said, then added, 'He is more obedient than you. But you already know that, Celia-have guessed. What say you then to your obedience?'

    'I was', I blustered. How she makes me blush! Jane entered then into the morning room. I made to move from Muriel's arms on the couch, but could not. Jane asked if I were being 'good', then said, 'I want to kiss her, too'.

    'Jane, don't be silly', I began, though not in protest but embarrassment. It was then as if we were schoolgirls at a romp. One held my arms, the other raised my skirt. I skittered, but did not cry out in case someone came in and saw. I struggled silently-half playfully, I felt-between the pair. Jane, to my horror, felt right up my legs and loosed my drawers and got them off one leg.

    'Stop it!', I pleaded. Jane knelt up between my legs and thus kept them apart. My right leg slipped upon the floor. Muriel, who had held me, knelt beside the couch and pinned my shoulders with her hands.

    'You are going to be fucked today. I want to watch you being fucked', she said.

    'Don't speak to me like this!', I begged. She held my chin, my mouth beneath her own. My fallen leg was raised and Jane slipped down, bringing her face between my thighs. Her tongue lapped up and down my slit. I squirmed.

    'First we will bring you on, my sweet, then you will take the cock, you understand?', asked Muriel.

    'I thought-I thought you loved me, Muriel!'

    Jane held my bottom tightly underneath and mashed her mouth the more into my quim.

    'I do, my pet, and love is sweet. It is a passion dark, contained-a mystery, if you wish it so. There, there- you see, your mouth is growing loose. One cannot help oneself, you know. No, Celia, don't struggle, just lie still. What a pretty noise her tongue makes at your slit!'

    Such sounds as left my throat and entered hers were both of passion and despair. Jane licked remorselessly. I quivered, came, and entered into clouds of soft delight, my garters rubbing to her cheeks, against her ears.

    “With love you must surrender all', said Muriel. My eyes were closed. Was it myself who lay there or a wanton, weak, who let herself be made a plaything of? I thought of Roger, Daisy-the dear innocents-and I the one upon the loose.

    'No! Stop! Get off!', I moaned, kicked with one foot and caught Jane on the hip. The transformation, sudden as it was, surprised the pair, and Jane said, 'Oh! That hurt!', and got up all bemused and stepped away. I pushed at Muriel and struggled up. She saw my expression and was much surprised.

    “We only meant to entertain you, pet', she said.

    'Yes, that was all', said Jane and tried to smile, rubbing her hip quite ruefully.

    Abruptly I stood up and made to put my drawers back on, but Muriel said 'Oh, please!' and touched my arm. Her tone and touch placated, but still I clothed my bottom part and moved away from them to smooth my skirt. Jane said, with awkwardness, she would have coffee made, and went. A silence reigned, and I was very conscious of the tingling in my quim. I held my legs apart a little, strained my knees-a movement I could not disguise from her despite the covering of my skirt.

    'It is nice when lovers are obedient-sometimes it is', Muriel said in a soft tone, came up behind me, put her arms about my waist.-'Because I love you, dear, I want to make you cry', she said. I understood that in a way. That was the curiosity of it.

    'But not too much', I said. I knew not what to say. She made me turn about, reluctantly. Our lips met for a moment, then I dropped my head.

    'If it is not too much then it is not obedience', she said, 'Why, if you held me down and let Roger have me, would I not obey?'

    “Would you? And is that what you now want?', I asked. There was a slight snap in my voice at that. I felt a jealousy of both, could not command myself at all. Her titties bulbed to mine, made me feel weak. Our thighs pressed close, our bellies, too.-'Well, do you?', I repeated in a sulky tone.

    'I want what you want, darling, that is all. You were superb the last time you were here. I want to see him work your pussy, too. I want to feel the sting of jealousy. Can you not understand that-strange as it may be? In pain is sometimes sweetness. Just to see a rearing penis nub between your lovelips, to see your mouth twist and explore the passioned heat within your eyes, to see your bubbies swell, your legs apart… Oh wanton, yes, and I would kiss your mouth, and wish I had a penis, too'.

    'Would you?', I clothed my mind with questions to evade such other thoughts as I may have. Her palm explored my bottom gently as we spoke and pressed me deeper into her.

    'Of course. Then you will make me do the same. May whip me if you wish'.

    'With Roger?'

    'Yes. I will not even look at him, I swear-will only look into your lovely eyes, and you will suck my nipples while he does, make me to lie there, wriggling as I shall…'

    'No, stop!', I burst away from her, was moody once again. I did not have it in me to explore such things, I said. I put my back to her again and flushed. I felt myself to be upon the edge of a crevasse and swayed. I wanted to run out, and yet to stay. Once more she came to me and held my waist, my bottom pressed against her belly then.

    'Don't go', she pleaded softly, 'Come upstairs'.

    I shook my head. Her hands cupped both my breasts. I fought the wicked thoughts I should not have. My nipples came to points beneath her palms and prodded through the fine cloth of my gown. I leaned my head back, sighed, and closed my eyes.

    'The man is up there, though', I said.

    'Yes, Celia, he is. Come-please obey'.

    Jane entered then, put down a tray, and looked at us and asked, 'Is she all right?'

    'I'm not', I wished to say, but Muriel said, 'Yes, of course she is. We are taking her upstairs just as I said'.

    'No, please!', O treacherous my weak and pleading voice, my feet that stumbled in between the pair! The hall, the stairs-how broad they had become! I pressed back feebly, but they led me on. The landing came to us and I began to cry, beseeched them softly as the bedroom neared.

    'Oh, lovely tears, my love!', said Muriel and pulled me in. My sobs brought on my weakness more, I swear. The bed received me, down my drawers came once again, my skirt piled up about my waist, all done so smoothly, quickly.

    'Please!', I begged, was shushed and then Jane left and returned in a minute with the naked male, blindfolded as he was, and chained and collared as a dog might be. Of course, I dared not speak lest he should one day know my voice again! My legs were skewed apart, he came between and settled on me heavily, but had his head held up and could not kiss.

    It was Muriel who groped his pego, guided it within. I strained, I hissed out. In it slid, sleeked up within my nest and held, his balls beneath my bottom couched.

    'Perform now slowly in the lady!', Jane said, holding taut his lead. My mouth was then absorbed by Muriel's. I knew not whether it was night or day. All was deep darkness, whirling tongues, the shunting of his cock within my quim. All was delirium, shame of excitement-even my own heart cannot dissemble all that I then felt. Upon his sperming me, he uttered a deep groan and loosed the heavy pellets of his come in such abundance that they flowed in one deep, creamy stream within my nest.

    'What a good girl you are!', said Muriel afterwards, and held me like the lost one that I felt I was.


    CHAPTER TWENTY

    Muriel's Day-Book

    Dear, youthful Daisy! I have stirred her well. She has the devil in her more than Sylvia. The latter is the quieter one, but she will make her way all right. And as to Celia, she walks upon a brink, yet so do I in more ways than I count, as things progress.

    'Because you love her, so you wished to make her cry indeed!', said Jane of her, and gave a little sneer. She sees a change in me-I know not what. It was true, I said, and added that we did the same with Phillip, after all, to which she conceded I was right.

    Daisy did well. I told Jane so.-'Well, it is Sylvia's turn', Jane said. I shrugged and did not answer her. A week ago I would have said to take her in to him. Do I grow older, old? Oh, surely not! I thought of Celia's warm tongue, her pulpy mouth. What curious fancies take one at such times.

    'I shall take her in if you do not', said Jane. She held my hand. We stood as people in a likeness do, stared out into the garden and saw nothing there.-'You're in a curious mood', she said.-'Oh no, I'm not!', I said. We laughed and kissed. Today there is an absence of desire in me to do other than to bed with Celia and Roger both. I told Jane so and asked her why. She searched my eyes and looked away.

    'You wish to escape', she said to my surprise.-'From what?', I asked. She shook her head, looked worried.-'I don't know', she said. We put our cheeks together and stood quiet. My old spirit returned when Sylvia went up tonight. I said to have her father stand again.

    'I know. All right', she said in an old-fashioned way. I could not help but listen. They were very quiet. I heard the chair squeak, that was all. Ten minutes later she came out and went into her room, said naught. Jane went into him and returned after a long, long interval and said he was 'in fine array'. He had not come, was dying to.

    'Be sure he doesn't, Jane', I said.-'Oh, you ARE strange today', she said, and went back into him and closed the door. Poor Phillip, how he groaned for all to hear! Rose asked if she might go in Sylvia's room. I said she might. I heard them whispering together. That will do no harm. All seems distant from me at the moment. Very curious! My mind dwells in another house. I must rid my mind of fancies about Celia and Roger. It is quite absurd. Do I love them both or do I seek protectiveness? I hardly know myself at all.


    Roger's Day-Book

    It was dark in her room. Dammit, I could not help myself. The curtains were drawn, the lamp was out. I blundered to her bed, felt a bare leg. She lay there naked and her bush was moist.

    'There are riders at night', she said. Was there delirium? Mouth upon mouth all of a sudden then. I pushed my trousers down-was deep at fault. My prick sprang out as hard and firm as I have ever known it be. O fearsome rushings of our breaths, O sweet douleur of entering her nest, the bumpings, heavings, and her bottom sleek and wriggling on my brazen palms again. This time the turmoil and the storm carried the bridges all before it in the dark. Warm, wet and seeking caves of mouths, legs locked, arms locked, her honey trickling down my threshing cock- and bursting, O it burst, I burst and flooded her in a gigantic whirlwind of desire, she sobbing, drawing on my prick until my last, small pearls were spent, the jets gone on before, absorbed. And say goodnight with languid tongues, then-hesitating ('Yes!', she moaned), plunge in again and fill her spermy cave anew until all breath was gone from us, and we like stranded ones upon a shore, her slim legs wide apart beneath my own. And Celia returned, and it was light. How could it then have been so dark, or did I sleep and dream it all? My trouser-gap was rimed with white, dried sperm where I had buttoned-up again.

    I tell myself I dream it. It was dark. Those heavy curtains that let in no light, save for a searching, sun-pierced slit. Say that I dreamt it, that my mind's awry. Hot points of nipples at my lips. Another guides my pen today. I am possessed and know myself to be.

    Celia's Day-Book

    Sometimes when all is quiet, too quiet, there brushes at the mouth, nose, eyes, a silence like to cobwebs. So it was when I returned, my heart a-bursting as it was. Roger, like a shipwrecked captain, stood within our doorway with his trousers off.

    'Changing', he said, and I said yes. His prick was pendant, glistened in the light.-'Roger, I want to tell you, to confess', I said. He backed away and let his trousers fall. They crumpled on the floor. His boots were off.

    'No, do not tell me for I must confess to you, I must. I want…' His voice trailed off, he looked bemused. Daisy was in her room, he said. He sounded anxious, and I knew my guilt the more. He had not known what to do in all the waiting hours, I told myself, and threw my arms about his neck.

    'Confess-let me confess', I said.

    'No, Celia, do not-for if we both-if we should both confess…'

    “What have you done but wait?', I asked, and cried against his shoulder as I spoke. We had both sinned, he said. I knew him to mean that he had acquiesced in my dire sins, but to allay his fears said that I understood.

    'Do you? And yet you cannot know', he groaned.- “What I have done to you? I do! I shall never go to her again, I promise, Roger. And besides…'-'Yes, what?' His voice was edged with fear. Oh, that I have brought him to such a precipice-he who is faithful to me to the end and succours my most sinful whims. I am the one who must have strength, I told myself.

    'What is the hour? Is it not night?', he asked.

    'It is but dusk. I meant not to be late'. I moved from him. His penis had not stirred for me, was coated as with frost or rime. I thought he had… But he could not, would not. There is no other woman here. I would go to bed, I said-was tired. The day had such a dying fall! Dear Daisy did not come in to say goodnight. Perhaps she frets for me as well.

    Deirdre's Day-Book

    Vaguely I think of returning-yet what will be there but an emptiness? I languish without Sylvia-or is that my excuse? I would lose my freedom-would lose all. Muriel, in a letter, says that I stay best where I am, and that Sylvia will visit shortly here, but not alone, for Jane will come with her. I think that Muriel is right.

    Dear Eveline, she has confessed to me all that was done.-'You brave one', so I said to her. Maurice appeared and asked us bluffly what we spoke about.-'Go on and tell him', Eveline said. I could not, though.-'We spoke of Maude', she said and then he laughed and said that he was glad the truth was out. He told me then what he had told them both, and Eveline looked quite proud at that.

    'You see, we are libertarians to a fault', she said, though looked not as comfortable as she might. It was a strange day-empty in its way. I half expected what they said. I doubt the word of Maurice, though. A woman's instinct? Yes, perhaps. It is as much to say as, 'I will not eat another chocolate from that box'-and then within the very thought one's hand extends to it. I know. I have dipped into that box myself. The lure of sin is like the thought of Christmas to a child. If Richard only had a different face, ah then I know I would-tonight.

    Eveline said that they will have a 'party' soon-'Just chosen guests', she said, and winked.

    “Would Maude be there? Could she not be?', I asked. She flushed at that and looked away, Maurice said nothing but just hummed.-'Well-you could chaperone her in a special way', said Eveline and looked at Maurice straight. I think their house is built upon dry sand. He shrugged and said, 'Of course-what else?', but which question that he answered neither of us knew. I saw myself in minors all about and knew myself to be no better then they are.

    Richard was in Amy's room when I returned. They both sat straight up on the bed.

    'It is good for you to talk', I said. I cannot stop the world from going round. Richard jumped up and kissed me on the lips and said 'Mama', just like a parrot might while Amy simpered and looked down, fingered her dress which was much creased. Two dents showed in her pillows. That I saw. Maurice will have to see to her again. I know about 'the Committee' now, for Eveline has told me, has confessed that, too.

    I took the key from Richard's door and locked him quietly in when he had gone to bed. He waited, thought I slept, then tried the door. I heard him grumbling to himself. Perhaps I should lock Amy in as well. They cannot have it as they will. Despite my sins I do not think myself so much a libertarian yet! And Eveline, I do believe, is having other thoughts as well concerning that, with Maude upon her mind. The biter who is bit knows well the pain.


    Maurice's Day-Book

    We are 'between lives' in a strange, new way. Despite the badinage, assurances, all is not well. This irks. It should not. Is all spoiled? Maude is her daughter, after all, not mine. I may be kin but am not blood-kin to the girl.

    Maude is provocative, besides, and gives me sidelong looks which do not help when Eveline is present, for I think she notices. I resolved to speak to Maude again, finding myself much between two stools, and thought thereby to quell my own desires by speaking to her sternly. Alas, she has her mother's ways. It did not work out as I thought. Perhaps in truth it worked out as I hoped. The human mind is, after all, a maze of 'Will' and 'Will not'- that cannot be helped. We all are as we are and must accept the fact.

    Maude said that she would go to town today to buy some stockings and some shoes. For my part I said that I would be about the farm and would not be an hour or so. Taking horse, I followed Maude and caught her on the road, coming alongside her carriage and signalling our driver to stop at the next village, which he did. Maude thereupon got out and asked me with a knowing smile what I was at. I did not answer her at first but took her in a nearby inn, asked for a room and led her up.

    'What is to do?', she asked and took her bonnet off. A comedy then followed, if such it can be called. We were to behave ourselves I said. I carried no conviction in my words, as well she knew.-'I know. I understand', she said, then looked towards the bed and added, 'You may kiss me, though. You said you would'.

    A silence followed. For a moment we two stood apart.- 'I wouldn't tell Mama, you know', she said, and stepped towards me, put her arms about my neck. Lord help me, in a moment we were down upon the bed, my hand beneath her skirt, her legs apart. Her tongue was wet and long within my mouth. She drew her further knee up, let me feel her quim.

    'You have no drawers on, Maude'.

    'I knew that you would follow me. Mama was naughty, watching. Why should I not be? Oh, let me touch your prick. I want to, please!'

    'You bitch! How quickly have you learned!'

    'I have good tutors, do I not?',-and all this said while down my trousers went, my cock couched in her smooth, warm palm and all a-sudden fever of desire. Ah, what a feline animal she proves to be! And I… I could not help myself. Her stockings rubbed my bared thighs as I entered her. Obscene words poured from both of us. The gentlemen had had her bottom, yes. She liked it, and I could as well. Her cunny was a mouth of hungriness much as her lips were under mine. Brazen her wriggling, wild her eyes. She wound her legs up round my hips and moaned her pleasure as we came in torrid torrents of ecstatic bliss, then lay a-panting, quiet and still the while I kissed her powdered cheeks.

    'The coachman may suspect if we two dally long', I said at last.

    'I know'. Her voice was sulky about that. She had a moody look as we both dressed and tidied up ourselves again.-'You do not love me after all', she said. Shades of her mother!

    “Why do you think I did it to you?', I flared up. Oh, what a stupid thing to say!

    'Oh, I thought you did it with me', she declared and swept out of the room, I following like some ridiculous suitor, much put out, and in a dungeon and confused. I rode straight off, came home and knew not how to be.

    'What IS the matter with you?', Eveline asked. Maude, fortunately, did not return for a whole hour, so nothing was suspected, though there was no cause to be. I do not want another 'party' yet and have told Eveline so. She looked relieved. I am sure she knows it is because of Maude.


    CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

    Deirdre's Day-Book

    A week having passed since I visited Eveline, I decided to call upon her again. Intuition must have led me there. Oh, what a tizzy she was in! My suspicions as to Maurice and Maude were not unfounded after all. She had discovered them together in the summerhouse-foolish as they were to do it there, and these of course are my words and not hers.

    Eveline sensed something as women do, pretended to go out and then went back. Not finding them in the house, she searched the grounds and saw all there was to see through a window of the garden-room. Maude, brazen as she is, was kneeling on the floor upon a mat, skirt up and no drawers on. Maurice was naked to his shirt and knelt behind her with his penis well embedded up between her bottom cheeks.

    'My god, they were enjoying it', said Eveline, and wept. I had a mind to comfort her and smack her face at the same time-for what hypocrisy is here!

    'Why, first of all you let him…', I began. She interrupted me and said, 'I know, I know. I was at fault. I thought that it would cure them in some wise-and so did you, my dear', she threw at me.

    'Indeed, indeed', I said and sighed. I confess I had forgotten it was my idea, so much stirs in me nowadays.

    As it appears, she marched straight in (and oh, the shock to both of them that must have been!), and just at the moment when Maurice was close upon his climax, too. Indeed, despite alarms he did not even stop, she says! Maude squealed and tried to pull away. He would not have it so and held her in, and even gritted out to Eveline, 'My love-come here!'

    'Did you?', I asked. I tried to make a joke of it. Alas, she was not in the mood.

    'You are on their side!', she declared, and fell into hysterics then, but calmed after I kissed and comforted her. She had stood there but for a moment, then walked out again and locked the house on them for several hours- forbade the servants even to open up to them.

    This happened just the day before. Since then there has been silence in the house, Maude's bedroom door locked every night by Eveline (I did not tell her I have done the same with Richard, too) and Maurice despatched to a guest room to sleep.

    Strange as the turns of life may be, I decided on the spot what I would do. That is to say, I shall go home- and take Maude with me, I told Eveline. Her eyes lit up. Her whole expression changed.

    'Oh, Deirdre, will you do this for me? Yes!', she burst. Maude was upstairs 'in hiding' all the time. Bold as she may be with Maurice, she shows no effrontery with her Mama, and came down cautious as a cat who thinks that danger lurks somewhere.

    'Maude, I understand that you would like to have a holiday', I said. She blinked. I noticed that she did not sit, and realised the discipline that Eveline has her under. Hands twisting, she stood quiet, and so I told her of my intentions, couching each phrase somewhere in-between commands and quite polite requests. She could stay for several months, I said-would like the countryside, would have good friends in Amy, Sylvia and Richard, too. Her eyes glinted a little at his name. It shall not be, though, as she thinks.

    We leave on Friday. Meanwhile I have written and told Phillip so-also have sent a note to Muriel and Sylvia. How wonderful to be among my own things once again! I am more determined than I was before to have things my way. Phillip must respond to me or he will have his own bed just as Maurice has-though I do not think in Eveline's case that that will last for long. She will forgive him once Maude is away.

    'Deal with her kindly, will you not?', asked Eveline anxiously. Her mood turned when she knew what was to be.

    'You can have parties now again', I said.

    'Perhaps. I think our lives have changed now, Deirdre'.

    I think not-not in the long run. Leopards do not change their spots. Shall I?


    Muriel's Day-Book

    Deirdre to return! I am surprised at that. I had a note by messenger today-and such a ride he had of it. Two days upon the road. We paid the fellow well and lodged him in an inn. Jane says that I am growing soft The second criticism she has made of me. I hope we are not getting quarrelsome.-'So much has changed', says Deirdre, and I wonder what she means?

    Phillip is beside himself upon the news, and Sylvia has such a guilty look that I had to spend an hour or two placating her. Her Mama would need to know nothing of her naughtiness, I said, at which she looked relieved. Jane was precipitate, as I thought she well might be. I did not interfere two nights ago when she took her into Phillip- not, thank heavens, in his study, but upon pretence that another gentleman had just arrived and was waiting in the stable.

    Blindfolded she took her in, and Phillip bound-and blinded also by a cloth whereby he also could not see at all — was 'succoured', which for once is Jane's word and not mine. Only her lips, of course, assailed his manly tool. More timid at the first than Daisy was, Sylvia had to have her mouth pressed down upon it several times. Jane held her wrists behind her back and brought her to drink every drop of the warm sperm he jetted out.

    'She recognised his groans, I think', said Jane.

    'He ought now NOT to groan', I said, but must confess I felt a mischief in me that he had, and so revealed himself, for Sylvia will now think that he did it voluntarily.

    'What did you tell her afterwards?', I asked of Jane. She shrugged and said, 'Oh, that it's nice to do it sometimes'. I had to tell the dear, sweet girl the same. We still must stand as one, must Jane and I.

    'Suppose Mama finds out', said Sylvia, after a long and blushing silence from her.

    'She will not, dear, unless you tell her so. There is a silent understanding in such things. She knows you have to do such lovesome things', I said with a feyness that amused myself. Mischief arose in me. I asked, 'Did it feel bigger than you think? You've felt it underneath your bottom sometimes, have you not? My goodness, Sylvia, when I was your age and was birched, I had it right between my bottom cheeks. I felt so hot, but it was nice. Young ladies must be exercised, you know, to keep them fit for all that lies beyond'.

    'So, darling, keep your bottom up just as you do with us', said Jane and bussed and tickled her until she laughed.

    I shall to Celia's today, and have told Jane who pouted and was quite put out. I have assured her that I will not stay, and that we two will go as soon as Deirdre comes.

    “There are more adventures in the world beyond', she said a little wistfully.

    Roger and Celia could visit us, I said. She relented and agreed to that. The chain may not be broken after all, but many of its links are weak. If Roger were not married I would settle down with him. If Celia were not married… Oh, my poor head goes around, around. Jane cannot wait to pack. I understand that very well. I understand too much, perhaps. That is the trouble with me now. My headlong, hot desires have gone a different way to what I thought.


    Phillip's Day-Book

    Release! Yet do I want it? That's the nub of it. I am to keep my drawers on, I am told. To Deirdre that will be an outward sign of my conversion to a 'nobler cause'.

    My sisters stood before me just this afternoon. I feared assault-desired it-but it did not come. I was lectured as a child might be, then made to kiss their feet again. They took their shoes off, made me suck their toes, or rather simply bid me to. I did. I savoured woman-taste again. Deirdre will expect the same, they said. I have no doubt that they have told her all. I both fear and need her presence as much as I did theirs.

    'You must learn to live with what you have. We may return, may not', said Muriel. Her tone was formal as- strangely enough-I wished. Jane, too, was moderate and did not raise her skirt nor tease my penis which is to remain a willing tool of love, they said.

    'Now rise and say you will obey your wife and female kin', said Jane.

    Obeying, I forced out the words, yet found them not as fearsome as they would have been. It is my role, my duty-that I understand. The world has changed for me and I for it.

    'You will express your gratitude to Sylvia when she comes in tonight. No more than that. Just use those words and say them humbly to her when you stand', was Muriel's command to me.

    I did not answer at the first and she asked sharply, 'Well?' Dear god, I wanted to be tied up again, to have them treat me as they did, but neither moved and merely stared me out. I felt the curtains closing on a play that once had tortured me, yet brings me now a sense of strange release-a bursting out from deep within myself. I who was a mountain, as I thought, the tower of strength within the family realm, have now become a molehill and see womankind anew.

    'I want to lick you everywhere-the both of you', I said. The words burst out.

    'Answer the question, Phillip! What you want is quite beside the point. Have we not surely taught you that?'

    'You have, yes. I am sorry. Please forgive. I meant to say I would adore to lick you-only that-and then would wait upon commands. I will, yes, I will simply say to Sylvia that I…'

    'Am grateful! Say it out! Add no more words than that. You understand?

    That I am grateful. May I now, for the last time…”

    'You may not, no. You have others to attend on now. Be patient, quiet, obey their words whatever they may be. Wait without hope, for hope there may not be. Wait upon love. Be doglike in their eyes. And that applies to Amy, too. You understand?'

    'I understand.' The words were bitter aloes in my mouth, yet I knew myself to be as is a child whose pain is less than he pretends it is. I knew that they saw through me from their smiles. Then Muriel at last relented, made me kneel, raised up her skirts and clamped my ears between her thighs but would not let me lick beneath her quim, and nor would Jane who followed suit. I was inspected then, still kneeling as I was and quite bereft, the musky scents of them that stung my nostrils with desire. My penis, freed, reared up its glowing head. They would not touch it, though, would not. It quivered and the veins stood out.

    'Make sure it does its work', said Jane. I had a feeling of too-tattered hope that she might stay within the room and 'deal with me'. Alas, they both went out and left me in my stance of penitence. How strangely, humbly, hopefully, I feel that my private parts no longer are my own! They belong to those who will command me now-and I their suitor, servitor and slave.

    'Throw away your writings now. You have no need of them', said Muriel tonight. I thankfully destroyed them, yet may keep a secret diary of my own. A foxlike slyness has come over me. I shall read the day-books of the others when I can, and yet will keep a mask upon my face. A small, small victory will then be mine. I shall live two lives-yes, that's the trick of it. I shall be punished if they ever know, and that is what I know I need. O Deirdre's thighs… Will she know what to do?

    Celia's Day-Book

    A strange and sudden visit from Muriel who tried, as I did too, to keep herself composed and yet could not. She is departing! Oh the pain and yet the feeling of relief! We kissed, clung to each other, knew not how to be. Roger is teaching Daisy how to ride. The two had gone out earlier, she looking sweet in a new tricorne hat and a green velvet dress I bought for her.

    'You may stay if you want', I said to Muriel. The words escaped my lips before I meant them, too.

    'No-yes… I know not what to do!'. She wept. The stairs upwards to the bedroom drew us. O that they had not, for scarce had we undressed, lay down and fell to passionate caressing than Roger and Daisy came back home. Such startlements, such guilt! We sprang up naked, knew not what to do, our clothes pellmell upon the floor. Roger came up, but Daisy thankfully went to her room. My god, his eyes as he then saw us both!

    'My loves!', he said, partly to my dismay that he should use the plural. Hard-nippled were our breasts. Brazen we looked.-'Oh god!', said Muriel, sat down upon the bed and wept. He had her nakedness before his eyes as well he did my own.

    'Daisy!', I said and quickly locked the door.-'I must go!', said Muriel, snatched up her dress and was like a lost lamb. Roger was flushed and knew not how to be, nor I, though I flung my arms around his neck. Perhaps I tried to hide the sight of her. I thought he would get hard, but he did not. He had a look of some exhaustion on his face, from too much riding, I suppose.

    'You love each other-that I understand', he said.

    'You will never see me any more!', sobbed Muriel.

    'She is leaving-going home', I said a little desperately.

    'Yes', Roger said. He broke away from me, unlocked the door, was gone, and left us to our guilty thoughts. So hurriedly we dressed and then went down, and Muriel seized her cloak up straightaway and all was as a dream save that dear Roger smiled on us and said that all was well while Muriel declared that neither of us would see her anymore.

    'Oh, what a nonsense! Celia will visit you, my dear, and I may, too, if I am so allowed'.

    'Of course, of course', I said. Her smile broke through at that. We saw her off, waved to her carriage as she went. Daisy came running down and asked, 'Oh was that Aunty Muriel?'

    It was, I said, but she could not stay long. Roger then went to see the horses groomed, so tactful is he. I much wanted then to be alone, and tidied up my bed lest Daisy see. Last night I gave him his well-won reward between my bottom cheeks at last. How lewdly did we talk when it was in!

    'My love, my love', he panted on and on, and pumped me so majestically that all my guilt flew in that torrid bout, and I feel free at last and quite myself.

    'You may do it next to Muriel', I said long moments after he had come. He did not answer, but he seemed content. He deserves all that I give to him-has been so faithful and so patient all the time. Besides, I may well do to her that which she did to me. I find new depths within myself the more I think of it.-'I want to make you cry', she said. How I would love to kiss her tears away!

    Dare I tell Roger so? I wonder how he would react? I feel sure that when we visit her, I shall be more naughty than she was with me.


    Deirdre's Day-Book

    How curious it is that when we anticipate something, one tends to think, 'Yes, this is how I thought it would be', and at the same time also thinks the opposite!

    Muriel and Jane were all prepared to leave. I sensed an undue haste in that, yet at the same time understood that they knew I wished to be alone with Phillip for a while.

    How different he is! My goodness, he is quite another man, is timid, quiet, has lost his pompousness, and almost bowed to me when I came in! He kissed my hand and Amy's, too, which he has never done before.

    'What have you done to him?', I asked Muriel, though more in joke than seriousness.-'We have taught him manners, dearest-taught him to comport himself with ladies as he should. Keep him in check', she told me, much to my surprise-and Phillip heard what we both said! I was bowled over, as men say, and asked him afterwards, when they had gone, if it were true.

    'I have sinned', he said and kept his lips tight-pressed.

    'Have you indeed!', I laughed. The old, old look came on his face, and yet it was not quite the same. There was a fearsomeness within his eyes I did not recognise from old. Muriel, of course, was very quiet. Richard behaved himself as quietly as he should and as I have now taught him he must be. Sylvia was shy, and Amy too. They ran upstairs together as girls will, and no doubt had too much to talk about! I wonder about that, but it cannot be helped. Amy will be discreet, I trust, and Richard dare not 'sleepwalk' with his father in the house.

    Last night… I know not how to write about last night. Phillip stayed in his study and was quiet, and dinner was a mournful, almost silent thing. I knew I had to have it out with him. His mood is one of doglike watchfulness. Sylvia went in to bid him goodnight which I understood, for she must have made a habit of it now, and it is proper that she should. Amy must do the same in the future. We must be complete. I have an odd feeling I now must rule the house. Having handled Richard quite severely, it will please me to.

    'Well?', I asked Phillip once he came to bed. He had gone into his dressing room to put his nightgown on, which he does but rarely, and today I found a pair of drawers in there, though hidden underneath a chair. I will tackle him on that, but for the nonce have found that Muriel was right. I wonder how she had a hand in this?

    I asked him straightaway to tell me of his sins, for I dare not confess my own!

    'I have mistreated you', he said and straightaway knelt down and kissed my feet.

    'Phillip!', I gasped. In truth, I was not displeased. Would I forgive him, so he begged. I might, I said. I felt the strength of me as I had done with Richard when I spanked him hard. It may amuse me to do the same with Phillip now.

    I would give thought to it, I said, and marvelled at the glorious feeling that I had. His prick was hard. I saw it when he rose, but out of mischief and revenge I pretended not to notice the projection underneath his night attire and said that I would sleep and think about our future on the morrow. In bed he did not try to touch me, but lay rigid-not in the old way but with a sort of humbleness that emanated like a cloud from him. Something has happened. What it is I do not know, and in the circumstances of my follies think it better that I do not ask. I know that in some way I have the upper hand-may take a lead from Eveline's book in the way she handled Richard first. As for him, the bad and wicked boy, I will have him up and lock the door and put him up to Maude. 'Twill do them good-will keep his hands away from Amy and from Sylvia. I mean to do it strictly, though-will have no looseness from him otherwise. He will see to her needs and his own and then they will behave themselves until the next time that I call them up.

    Sylvia's Day-Book

    How glad I am that dear Mama is back! What strangeness we have known, and I feel restless all the time. Aunt Muriel said that I would, and not to curb my instincts if I wanted to be naughty on the quiet.

    Papa is very quiet still. I am glad of that. When I went to say goodnight to him, he straightaway stood up again. He asked me where Mama and Amy were. They both were in their rooms, I said, had shut their doors. I wanted to say that. I thought of what had happened in the stable and I almost blushed, but Aunt Jane said that I shouldn't now. I did guess when I heard him groan that time. Oh what a lot I swallowed, too!

    Papa said next that he was very grateful to me, so I thought he read my thoughts! I didn't mind, I said, though then I thought that if he had not read my thoughts, then perhaps it was the wrong thing that I said. I said to him to sit. Aunt Muriel said I MUST say that. His face went awfully funny, but he did. I wanted to be kind, so sat upon his lap again and talked of dear Mama and Amy, too. I mentioned Richard just a little bit. I have a feeling Mama is put out with him. I 'spect that he was rude to her. He can be very brash at times.

    Papa just listened to me, did not speak. Aunt Muriel said that when men are silent, that is good! Papa, though, was not always so. I think she lectured him and made him shy. A part of him, though, wasn't shy. I felt it underneath my bottom all the time and wriggled just to make it 'fit', as Aunt Jane said I should. It got so big!

    Papa got flushed. I thought that he might birch me, but he never has. He asked Rose if she'd got her drawers on once! I think he's very naughty, too.

    Daisy's Day-Book

    I think Mama is being naughty! Perhaps it always happens with grown-ups. I heard a little what they said when Aunty Muriel was here. When Papa went downstairs I crept along and listened at the door and heard Mama say to her, 'Quickly, we must dress!' Oh goodness, he had seen them both undressed! Perhaps, though, Aunty Muriel was trying on a gown. I wish I knew, but cannot ask Papa.

    Sylvia has invited me to stay with her-and her Mama is back! Papa says he will take me over there. I wonder if we'll stop awhile halfway? Mama wishes very much to know what Sylvia's Mama is like, so I will have to tell her everything of that. Papa is anxious that I do not say too much. He goes very late to bed now, sometimes when Mama's asleep, and then we have a lovely 'chat' which leaves me feeling very sticky in the end! I daren't, oh daren't, tell Sylvia. I hope she doesn't try to tease it out of me like her two aunties did, oh dear!


    Deirdre's Day-Book

    What a charming man is Roger, and how sweet young Daisy is! She has that look of innocence that Sylvia has. Long may they keep it so, and yet…

    Phillip amuses me. I frigged him last night while he lay quite still. Occasionally he groaned. I shushed him when he did and he obeyed, save for some whimperings. Finally I rolled upon him, sheathed his cock and rode him as I wanted to-and O the sense of mastery it gave! The lamb, he did not even jerk the while I slewed my cunny up and down.

    An inspiration struck me. I could not resist. He had not come as yet. I rested, gripping him within, my nipples sharp upon his chest, my thighs fully weighted down upon his own.

    'Have you been taught so? Tell me, Phillip', I commanded.

    'Yes', he moaned.

    'By Muriel? And Jane, perhaps? Come, Phillip, tell me, for I too have sinned'.

    'Forgive me! Humble as I am, I have. They made me, Deirdre. First they…'

    'Shush! I do not wish to know. Obedience is all for you henceforth. Obey myself and both the girls, and all will follow'.

    Why I said the latter I will never understand, save that it seemed to set the seal upon his strange and craven attitude. Perhaps I thought he might adopt a sterner attitude towards them, seeking compensation in that wise, though I could not imagine it of him.

    'I will, I will, I will obey you all!' Such was his cry and then he came and jetted his abundance deep within my slit, I sucking strongly with my cunnylips till all was done and the last pearls were spent.

    Today though-ah! — Daisy's Papa asked me to show him round the grounds. Much taken with him, as I felt myself to be, we viewed the shrubbery, the lawns, the flowers, then strolled as if with one mind to the summer-house. The door closed, and I felt a girlishness upon me, but too late. Strong were his arms about me, warm his lips.

    'Upon such brief acquaintance, sir?', I laughed.

    'Given that it may be a lengthy one', he smiled and led me slowly to the waiting couch, swept up my dress without ado and tickled me delightfully between my legs.

    'The girls! Beware in case they come-or even Phillip might', I breathed. His stiff prick touched my knuckles as we lay. I turned my hand and felt its length and girth. My fingers sought his buttons even as I spoke.

    'I sent them to his study to discourse with him and told them to amuse themselves, my dear. I have a feeling that may take a little time'.

    'Roger! What do you mean?', I gasped, and yet withal I laughed despite myself and arched my back to let him loose my drawers, had in a vision Phillip lying all quiescent with his prick in my nest, saying 'I will, I will, I will!'

    The devil take me-I am lost again, should write no more, should write no more. This is a house of secrets now.

  • CHAPTER ONE
  • CHAPTER TWO
  • CHAPTER THREE
  • CHAPTER FOUR
  • CHAPTER FIVE
  • CHAPTER SIX
  • CHAPTER SEVEN
  • CHAPTER EIGHT
  • CHAPTER NINE
  • CHAPTER TEN
  • CHAPTER ELEVEN
  • CHAPTER TWELVE
  • CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  • CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  • CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  • CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  • CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  • CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  • CHAPTER NINETEEN
  • CHAPTER TWENTY
  • CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
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