Novelty ever makes the strongest impressions, and in pleasures, especially; no wonder, then, that he was swallowed up in raptures of admiration of things so interesting by their nature, and now seen and handled for the first time. On my part, I was richly overpaid for the pleasure I gave him, in that of examining the power of those objects thus abandoned to him, naked and free to his loosest wish, over the artless, natural stripling: his eyes streaming fire, his cheeks glowing with a florid red, his fervid frequent sighs, whilst his hands convulsively squeezed, opened, pressed together again the lips and sides of that deep flesh wound, or gently twitched the overgrowing moss; and all proclaimed the excess, the riot of joys, in having his wantonness thus humoured. But he did not long abuse my patience, for the objects before him had now put him by all his, and, coming out with that formidable machine of his, he lets the fury loose, and pointing it directly to the pouting-lipid mouth, that bid him sweet defiance in dumb-shew, squeezes in the head, and, driving with refreshed rage, breaks in, and plugs up the whole passage of that soft pleasure-conduit, where he makes all shake again, and put, once more, all within me into such an uproar, as nothing could still but a fresh inundation from the very engine of those flames, as well as from all the springs with which nature floats that reservoir of joy, when risen to its flood-mark.
I was now so bruised, so battered, so spent with this over-match, that I could hardly stir, or raise myself, but lay palpitating, till the ferment of my sense subsiding by degrees, and the hour striking at which I was obliged to dispatch my young man, I tenderly advised him of the necessity there was for parting; which I felt as much displeasure at as he could do, who seemed eagerly disposed to keep the field, and to enter on a fresh action. But the danger was too great, and after some hearty kisses of leave, and recommendations of secrecy and discretion, I forced myself to send him away, not without assurances of seeing him again, to the same purpose, as soon as possible, and thrust a guinea into his hands: not more, lest, being too flush of money, a suspicion or discovery might arise from thence, having every thing to fear from the dangerous indiscretion of that age in which young fellows would be too irresistible, too charming, if we had not that terrible fault to guard against.
Giddy and intoxicated as I was with such satiating draughts of pleasure, I still lay on the couch, supinely stretched out, in a delicious languor diffused over all my limbs, hugging myself for being thus revenged to my heart’s content, and that in a manner so precisely alike, and on the identical spot in which I had received the supposed injury. No reflections on the consequences ever once perplexed me, nor did I make myself one single reproach for having, by this step, completely entered myself of a profession more decry’d than disused. I should have held it ingratitude to the pleasure I had received to have repented of it; and since I was now over the bar, I thought, by plunging over head and ears into the stream I was hurried away by, to drown all sense of shame or reflection.
Whilst I was thus making these laudable dispositions, and whispering to myself a kind of tacit vow of incontinency, enters Mr. H.... The consciousness of what I had been doing deepened yet the glowing of my cheeks, flushed with the warmth of the late action, which, joined to the piquant air of my dishabille, drew from Mr. H... a compliment on my looks, which he was proceeding to back the sincerity of with proofs, and that with so brisk an action as made me tremble for fear of a discovery from the condition of those parts were left in from their late severe handling: the orifice dilated and inflamed, the lips swollen with their uncommon distension, the ringlets pressed down, crushed and uncurled with the over-flowing moisture that had wet every thing round it; in short, the different feel and state of things would hardly have passed upon one of Mr. H...’s nicety and experience unaccounted for but by the real cause. But here the woman saved me: I pretended a violent disorder of my head, and a feverish heat, that indisposed me too much to receive his embraces. He gave in to this, and good-naturedly desisted. Soon after, an old lady coming in made a third, very a-propos for the confusion I was in, and Mr. H..., after bidding me take care of myself, and recommending me to my repose, left me much at ease and relieved by his absence.
In the close of the evening, I took care to have prepared for me a warm bath of aromatic and sweet herbs; in which having fully laved and solaced myself, I came out voluptuously refreshed in body and spirit.
From THE LIFE AND AMOURS OF THE BEAUTIFUL, GAY AND DASHING KATE PERCIVAL, THE BELLE OF THE DELAWARE
Kate Percival
Kate Percival is most likely the nom-de-plume of an American writer: on this we can all agree. Whether she (or he) wrote and published the book in 1903 (as is generally supposed) or whether this steamy “memoir” is a later pastiche of Victorian erotica written for the US market, is uncertain.
I am about to do a bold thing. I am about to give to the world the particulars of a life fraught with incident and adventure. I am about to lift the veil from the most voluptuous scenes. I shall disguise nothing, conceal nothing, but shall relate everything that has happened to me just as it occurred. I am what is called a woman of pleasure, and have drained its cup to the very dregs. I have the most extraordinary scenes to depict, but although I shall place everything before the reader in the most explicit language, I shall be careful not to wound his or her sense of decency by the use of coarse words, feeling satisfied there is more charm in a story decently told than in the bold unblushing use of terms which ought never to sully a woman’s lips.
I was born in a small village in the state of Pennsylvania, situated on the banks of the Delaware, and about thirty miles from Philadelphia. My father’s house was most romantically situated within a few yards of the river. It was supported as it were, at the back by a high hill, which in summer was covered with green trees and bushes. On each side of the dwelling was a wood so dense and thick that a stranger un-acquainted with the paths through it could not enter. In front of the house, the river on sunshiny days gleamed and glistened in the rays of the sun, and the white sails passing and repassing formed quite a picturesque scene. At night, however, especially in the winter time, the scene was different. Then the wind would howl and moan through the leafless trees and the river would beat against the rocks in a most mournful cadence. To this day I can remember the effect it had on my youthful mind, and whenever I hear the wind whistling at night, it always recalls, to my memory my birth place.
My father was a stern, austere man, usually very silent and reserved. I only remembered seeing him excited once or twice. My mother had died in my infancy – (I was but fifteen months at the time) and my father’s sister became his housekeeper. I had but one brother a year older than myself. How well I remember him, a fine noble-hearted boy full of love and affection. We were neglected by our father and aunt, and left to get through our childhood’s days as best we could. We would wander together hand in hand by the river side or in the woods, and often cry ourselves to sleep in each other’s arms at our father’s want of affection for us. We enjoyed none of the gayeties, none of the sports of youth. The chill of our home appeared to follow us wherever we went, and no matter how brightly the sun shone, it could not dissipate the chill around our hearts. I never remember seeing my father even smile. A continual gloom hung over him, and he usually kept himself locked in his room except at meal times.
This life continued until I was ten years of age, when one day my father informed me that the next day I was to go to Philadelphia to a boarding school. At first I was glad to hear it, for any change from the dull monotony of that solitary house must be an agreeable one to me. I ran to the garden to tell my brother; but the moment I mentioned it, Harry threw himself sobbing in my arms.
“Will you leave me, Kate!” he exclaimed.“What will I do when you are gone, I shall be so lonely – so very lonely without you?”
“But Harry, darling,” I returned, “I shall be back again in a few months, and then I shall have so much to tell you, and we shall have such nice walks together.”
I succeeded in
calming him, especially as our father informed him before the day was over that he too was to go to a boarding school in the city of Baltimore. That evening we took our last ramble together before we left home. It was the month of June, and all nature was decked in her gayest apparel. It was a beautiful moonlight night, and the air was fragrant with the odor of June roses, of which there were a large number in the garden. We wandered by the side of the river and watched the moon rays playing on the surface of the water, while a gentle breeze murmured softly through the pine trees. On that evening we settled our future life. It was arranged between us that when Harry grew up to be a man I should go and keep his house. We dwelt a long time on the pleasures of such life. At last it was time for us to return to the house, we embraced each other tenderly and separated.
The next morning I left very early, and in a few hours reached my destination and was enrolled among the pupils of B— Seminary. I shall not dwell long on my school days, although I might devote much of space to them. I was not a popular girl in the school – I was too cold, too reserved, and some of the girls said too proud. I took no pleasure in girlish sports, but my chief amusement was reading. I would retire to a corner of the school room and while the other girls were at play – I would be plunged in the mysteries of Mrs. Radcliff’s novels, or some other work of the same character. Frequently the Principal insisted on my shutting up my book and going out to play, but I would creep back when she had left the schoolroom, and resume my favorite occupation. I remained at school seven years, and during that time I never once visited home, for my father made a special agreement that I was to spend my vacation at school.
It is strange that, considering the prominent part I have played in the Court of Venus, that up to the age of seventeen, not a single thought concerning the relation of the sexes ever entered my head. I had up to that age never experienced the slightest longing or desire and looked on all men with the utmost indifference. And yet I knew that I was called beautiful and was the envy of all my school fellows.
I have not yet given a description of myself to the reader and it is nothing but right that I should do so. At the age of seventeen my charms were well developed, and although they had not attained the ripe fullness which a few years later was the admiration and delight of all my adorers, still I possessed all the insignia of womanhood. In stature I was above the medium height, my hair was a dark auburn and hung in massive bands on a white neck. My eyes were a deep blue and possessed a languishing voluptuous expression; they were fringed with long silky eyelashes and arched with brows so finely penciled that I have often been accused of using art to give them their graceful appearance. My features were classically regular, my skin of dazzling whiteness, my shoulders were gracefully rounded and my bust faultless in its contours. My more secret charms I shall describe at some future time when I shall have to expose them to the reader’s gaze.
I have said that up to the age of seventeen I had never experienced the slightest sexual desire. The spark of voluptuousness which has ever since burnt so fiercely in my breast was destined to be lighted up by one of my own sex. Yes, dear Laura, it was you who first taught me the delights and joys of love; it was you who first kindled that flame of desire that has caused me to experience twelve years of delirious bliss; it was to your gentle teaching, sweet friend, that I owe my initiation in all the mysteries of the Court of Venus; it was your soft hand that pointed out to me that path of pleasure – and all the delight shown on the wayside. The incident happened in this manner:
About three months before I left school we were told one morning that a new music and French teacher would take her abode in B— Seminary the next day. We were all extremely anxious to see her, and at the expected hour she made her appearance. Her name was Laura Castleton, and her father lived in St. Mary’s County, Maryland. She was a brunette, about twenty years of age, and one of the most beautiful girls I ever saw. She was nearly as tall as myself, but considerably stouter, and her body was molded in a most exquisite manner. Although her eyes were very black and her hair like the raven’s plume, her skin was as white as alabaster. Her teeth were as regular as if they had been cut of a solid piece of ivory, and her hands and feet were fairylike in their proportions. I was the eldest girl in the school and Laura immediately made me her companion. She was exceedingly intelligent, well educated, and well read. I was soon attracted to her and we became inseparable. We would pass all our spare time reading to each other or in conversation on literary subjects. I agreed to love her with my whole heart, and was never happy outside of her company.
“Laura,” I said to her one day when we were walking on the playground with our arms around each other’s waist, “why can’t we sleep together?”
“Would you like it, Kate?” she asked, bending her black eyes upon my face with a peculiar gloom in them which sent the blood rushing to my cheeks – but why and wherefore I did not know.
“Indeed I would, Laura. It would be so nice to lie in your arms all night.”
“Well, darling, I will ask Mrs. B—. I have no doubt that she will give her consent.”
The lovely girl drew me towards her and gave me a warmer kiss than she had ever before bestowed upon me. The contact of her easy lips to mine sent an indefinable thrill through my body which I had never experienced before. In the evening she informed me that she had spoken to Mrs. B— and that the latter had consented that we should sleep together. I was overjoyed at this news and longed for night to come so that I might recline in my darling’s arms.
At last the hour of bedtime arrived and I followed Laura to her chamber. She put the lamp on the dressing table and, kissing me affectionately, bade me undress myself quickly. We began our toilette for the night. I was undressed first, and having put on my nightgown, I sat down on the side of the bed and watched Laura disrobing herself. After she had removed her dress and her petticoats, I could not help being struck with her resplendent charms. Her chemise had fallen off her shoulder, beautifully rounded, and two globes of alabaster reposing on a field of snow. She appeared to be entirely unaware that I was watching her, for she sat down on a chair exactly in front of me, and crossing one leg over the other, she began to remove her garters and stockings. This attitude raised her chemise in front, and allowed me to have a full view of her magnificently formed limbs. I even caught sight of her voluptuous thighs. Laura caught my eye.
“What are you gazing at so earnestly?” she asked.
“I am gazing at your beauties, Laura.”
“One would think that you were my lover,” returned Laura laughingly.
“So I am, dear – for you know I love you.”
“You little witch you, you know well enough what I mean. But if you want to admire beauty, why not look in the glass, for I am not nearly as beautiful as you are, dear Kate.”
“What nonsense, Laura,” I replied, “but come, let us get into bed.”
So saying, I jumped between the sheets and was followed almost immediately by Laura, who first, however, placed the lamp on a chair by the bedside. She clasped me in her arms and pressed me to her breast, while she kissed my lips, cheek and eyes passionately. The warmth of her embraces and her glowing limbs entwined in mine caused a strange sensation to steal through me. My cheeks burned and I returned her kisses with an ardor that equalled her own.
“How delightful it is to be in your arms, dear Laura,” I exclaimed.
“Do you really like it?” she replied, pressing me still closer to her. At the same time our nightdresses became disarranged, and I felt her naked thighs pressing against mine.
Laura kissed me again with even greater warmth than before, and while she was thus engaged she slipped one of her soft hands in the opening of my night-chemise, and I felt it descend on one of my breasts. When I felt this, a trembling seized my limbs and I pressed her convulsively to my heart.
“What a voluptuous girl you are, Kate,” she said, molding my breasts and titillating my nipples. “You set me on fire.”
“
I never felt so happy in my life, Laura. I could live and die in your arms.”
I now carried my hand to her globes of alabaster and pressed and molded them, imitating her in all her actions. Nay, more, I turned down the bedclothes and, unbuttoning her nightdress in front, I exposed those charming, snowy hillocks to my delighted gaze. The light of the lamp shone directly upon them, and I was never tired of admiring the whiteness, firmness and splendid development of those glowing semiglobes. I buried my face between them and pressed a thousand kisses on the soft velvet surface.
“Why Kate, you are a perfect volcano,” said Laura, trembling under my embraces, “and I have been laboring under the delusion that you were an icicle.”
“I was an icicle, darling, but now I have been melted by your charms.”
“What a happy man your husband will be,” said Laura.
“Happy – why?”
“To enfold such a glorious creature as you in his embrace. If you take so much delight with one of your own sex, what will you do when clasped in a man’s arms?”
“You are jesting, Laura. Do you suppose for a moment that I will ever allow a man to kiss and embrace me as you do?”
“Certainly, my love – he will do a great deal more than I do.”
“More? What can you mean?”
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