This was very satisfactory news for me, as my handwriting might have been recognized. So turning to the young girl with a cheerful countenance, said, laughing, ‘Well, my dear young friend, all is well that ends well; now let us make our plans for the future. In the first place, it seems to me that you are formed for the joys of love. It is true I am not quite so young a lover as you might desire; but I am more fit for amorous combats than many younger men. I am rich, and though not absolutely a man of rank, I am a scion of a noble house. What do you say? I know your secret. I have already seen all your charms; shall we make a match to it? Will you marry me?’
‘Indeed, sir,’ said the dear girl, ‘your gallantry in attacking those ruffians, and defending my honour, would alone have been sufficient to win my heart; but as my father, the Duke, has designs of wedding me to a man older than himself, an old creature, whom I detest, I deem this meeting with you a most fortunate one, and will accept your offer with the same ingenuous frankness with which you have made it. You say, truly, that you have already viewed my person with pleasure; take it, dear sir, and do what you please with me. I am yours for ever.’
I was quite enraptured with this decision, and it being determined that the duke should be written to in the morning, and informed that his daughter, entertaining an insuperable objection to the match he had in store for her, had eloped with the man of her choice.
This affair settled, and Phoebe, with many sly glances, having made up a bed on one of the sofas, I shut the windows, and hastened to undress my future bride. She was exquisitely formed, with the most lovely breasts in the world; and as for her bottom and thighs, nothing could be finer.
We were soon in bed, and all that her finger and the wanton tongue of madame had left of her maidenhead, I soon possessed myself of. Dawn found us still in dalliance; but at length, being both quite fatigued, with a last sweet kiss, we fell asleep. The next day we were to be privately married by licence.
So now, my dear Sappho, I must conclude this long letter, by saying to you, ‘Do thou go and do likewise.’
TO JULIA
Your letter, giving me an account of your adventure with the Marquis at Ranelagh Gardens, diverted me vastly. Meantime I have not been idle.
Since you were last here, I have colonised one corner of my grounds. A discreet old creature called Jukes, has been placed in charge of that pretty cottage covered with roses and jasmine, which you admired so much; and in the dairy she is assisted by the freshest and most charming of country girls. Positively you must come and pay me a visit, if only for the pleasure you will experience in the sight of Phoebe’s perfections; but this is a digression, and I know you hate digressions, therefore to proceed.
Phoebe and I, you must know, quite understood each other, but she is so pretty, brisk, loving and lively, and time, place and opportunity so frequently present themselves, that I have nearly killed myself with the luscious fatigue, and having fucked her in every imaginable attitude, having gamahuched her, and been gamahuched in return, I at length cloyed, and began to look out for some new stimulant, but alas, Madame R … did not call, I saw nothing of Mrs H … To write to them was not in accordance with my usual prudence. What was to be done? I was in despair. At this juncture, that dear old Jukes came to my aid, though very innocently, as I believe. With many curtseys and hope ‘your honour’s worship won’t be offended at my making so bold’ etc., she told me that she would be greatly beholden if I would allow her to have a little orphan grandchild of hers, to live with her and Phoebe in the cottage.
She told me that her little girl was a sweet pretty creature, fifteen years of age, and she thought I might like to have her.
I at once consented, and in a few days arrived one of the sweetest flowers that ever blushed unseen in the woods of Hampshire. I was charmed, and lost no time in providing suitable clothes for the little pet, and, with the aid of Phoebe, her frocks were so contrived that they only reached her knees. This, you will readily understand, was for the purpose of giving me facilities for seeing her young beauties, without doing anything that might alarm her young innocence. We soon became great friends, and she took at once to Phoebe, the swing, the gold fish, strawberries and cream, the rambles in the woods, and above all her handsome new clothes, combined to render little Chloe as happy as a princess; while her old granddam would follow her about exclaiming, ‘Lawk-a-mercy! well I never!’ and so on.
In the course of a few days, our young rustic had quite rubbed off her first shyness, would run in and out of my room, sit on my knee, hide my snuff box, kiss me of her own accord, and play all sorts of innocent tricks, like other children, in swinging, climbing up trees, and tumbling about on the grass; the little puss not merely showing her legs, but everything else besides.
At first Mrs. Jukes tried to stop it, and told her it was rude to behave so before the gentleman, but I begged she would take no notice in future, as I did not mind it, and liked to see the little girl unrestrained and happy.
Now old Jukes always went to bed at sunset. I therefore arranged with Phoebe, that after the old crone was gone to rest, she should wash Chloe all over every night before putting her to bed, and that it might be done properly, I used to go and witness the operation, for it gave me a pleasurable sensation to see the girl naked when Phoebe was present.
Phoebe was a clever girl, and did not require much telling, so that none of the most secret charms of my little Venus were concealed from my lascivious gaze.
At one moment Phoebe would lay Chloe across her lap, giving me a full view of her little dimpled bum, holding open those white globes, and exposing everything beneath. Then she would lay the girl on her back, and spread out her thighs as if to dry them with the towel. In fact she put her into almost every wanton attitude, into which she had seen me place herself. The little innocent girl meanwhile, seemed to think this washing process capital fun, and would run and skip naked about the room, in the exuberance of her animal spirits.
In this amusement I found all the excitement I desired, and should perhaps have been content with viewing her beauties, without attacking her innocence, but for a circumstance that occurred.
One evening, after the usual performance of washing, skipping about, etc, the little saucebox came and jumped on my knees, putting a leg on either side of them, and began courting a romp. Had I been a saint, whereas you know I am but a sinner, I could not have resisted such an attack on my virtue as this.
Only imagine, my dear Julia, this graceful lovely creature in all the bloom of girlhood, stark naked, except her stockings, her beautiful brown hair flowing over her exquisite shoulders, imagine her position, and how near she had placed herself to the fire and then, say, can you blame me?
In fine, I slid my hand down, and released that poor stiff prisoner, who for the last half hour had nearly burst open his prison; as a natural consequence he slid along between her thighs, and his crested head appeared (as I could see by the reflection in an old mirror) impudently showing his face, between her buttocks on the rear side. She would perhaps have noticed it, were it not that my finger had long been busy in her little slit already ‘tickling’ she called it, and laughed heartily, tickling me under the arms in return.
Suddenly, as if a thought struck her, she said,
‘Do you know that, –’
She paused. Never did man wait with more exemplary patience.
‘That – that –’
Another pause.
That I saw –’
Pause again.
‘The cock –’
Here Phoebe tried to stop her; but she squeezed her interrupter’s two cheeks, so that she could not speak, and hurriedly concluded.
‘Making chickens – there.’
This was too much for my gravity, and I was convulsed with laughter; when I had a little recovered, I asked, ‘And how does the cock do that, my dear?’
‘Why,’ said Chloe, with the most artless manner in the world, ‘he tickles the hen, and when she lays eggs they come t
o chickens.’
‘Tickles her! I do not understand,’ said I.
‘But he does,’ insisted the little girl.
‘But the cock has no fingers; how can he tickle?’
‘Why,’ cried Chloe triumphantly, ‘he has got a finger, and a long one too, and I saw it shoot from under his tail, when he was treading the hen, and he tickled her, just as you are tickling me now, but putting it right into her body. Now, am I not right in saying the cock makes chickens, by tickling the hen?’
‘Well reasoned, my little logician,’ cried I, really pleased with her wit, ‘I see though you have lived in the country, you are no fool, and I will tell you something, which girls are always very curious about, but which their mothers and grannies will never tell them anything of. But first tell me, why you thought the cock tickling the hen, made the chickens?’
‘Why, because Phoebe told me, to be sure.’
‘Oh, ho!’ said I, laughing, ‘you told her, Phoebe, did you?’
Poor Phoebe looked frightened out of her wits.
‘I hope you will forgive me, sir, but Chloe did worrit so, and keep all on about that ere beast of a cock, that at last I up and told her.’
‘God bless you, my dear girl. What if you did? There is no harm in that, I hope. There can never be anything wrong in what is natural.’
Then turning to Chloe, whose little cunny I had not let go of all this while, ‘Would you like to know, my dear, where the babies come from, and how they are made?’
‘Oh, yes; that I just should,’ exclaimed Chloe, hugging and kissing me.
‘Very well; now you know, I suppose, that you are not made exactly like a little boy, do you not?’
‘Yes, I know that down here, you mean,’ and she pointed to where my finger was still tickling.
‘Just so. But did you ever, by chance, happen to see a man?’
‘Never.’
‘And you would like to?’
‘Of all things.’
‘There then!’ cried I, lifting her up and allowing the rampant yard to spring up against my belly.
‘Oh, the funny thing!’ said Chloe, then taking hold of it, ‘how hot it is. That is what I have felt against my bottom, these last ten minutes, and could not think what it was; but what has that to do with making babies?’
‘I will show you,’ said I, ‘but I cannot promise you that I shall make one, as I am too old for that, but it is by doing what I am going to do to Phoebe, that children are begotten.’
‘Oh, I see!’ cried the little girl, clapping her hands, ‘you are going to serve Phoebe, as I saw the stallion serve the mare today. That will be capital fun.’
‘Serve the mare,’ I ejaculated, glancing over my shoulder at Phoebe, ‘how’s this?’
‘Well, the truth is, sir,’ said the conscious girl, ‘ever since your honour showed me that trick, I have often gone to see them do it, and I was watching them today, when this little scapegrace came running into the stable. So I was obliged to tell her all about it, as I did about the chickens.’
‘Well,’ said I,’ if she has seen that, I see no harm in her seeing the other, so pull up your clothes, my dearest creature.’
In a moment Phoebe had tucked up her petticoats, and kneeling on the truckle bed, and jutting her white posteriors well out, presented a full view of all her charms.
‘Oh, my,’ cried Chloe, ‘why Phoebe, you have got hair growing on your –’
She stopped, and with a charming blush, hid her face in my bosom.
‘And so will you have, my little maid,’ I whispered, ‘when you are as old as she is; but now observe what I am going to do, and mind you tickle me underneath, all the while.’
This she did in the most delightful manner, occasionally laughing to see Phoebe wriggling about. As soon as all was over, I sent Phoebe to my room for some refreshments and wine, and while she was gone, I gamahuched the lovely little Chloe, which operation, coming, as it did, after all the frigging she had undergone, roused at once her dormant passions into precocious energy. With eagerness, she seized my again erect wand, and putting it into her little mouth, worked it up and down, so that, just as Phoebe returned, I sent a spurting shower over her tongue, while her virgin dew drenched my own.
‘Oh, my! how salt it is,’ sputtered the little girl, spitting, and making a wry face.
‘And is it that stuff, sir, that makes the babies?’
‘One drop of it, my dear, is sufficient to make a little girl, as pretty as you.’
‘Or a little boy?’
‘Yes; or a little boy.’
After supper, Chloe, who said she was not at all sleepy, wanted Phoebe and me to perform again, but I told her that was quite enough for one night, and that she was on no account to say anything of what she had seen to her granddam.
Now I think, my dear Julia will say, I have related a most interesting adventure; but really, I wish you would come and stay a few days, and share in our sports. I shall confidently expect to see you before long.
* The full title of this publication was The New Epicurean, or The Delights of Sex facetiously and philosophically considered in graphic letters addressed to Young Ladies of Quality.
THE WHORE’S CATECHISM*
Question. – What is a Whore?
Answer. – A girl who, having laid modesty entirely aside, no longer blushes at yielding herself to the promiscuous gratification of sensual pleasures with the opposite sex.
Q. – What are the most requisite qualities for a whore to possess?
A. – Impudence, complaisance, and metamorphosis.
Q. – What do you mean by impudence?
A. – I mean that a girl who gives herself up to libidinous commerce should be ashamed of nothing. All parts of her body are to be exposed to the men with as little ceremony as she would expose them to herself, viz., her breasts, her cunt, and her backside, are to be thought no more of when with a strange man whom she has to amuse, than a modest woman of the palm of her hand, which she does not blush to expose.
Q. – What do you mean by complaisance in a whore?
A. – It is an allurement by which she artfully retains the most casual customers. Assuming the air of thorough good nature, she yields herself cheerfully to the various whims, desires, leches, and caprices of men, by which means she retains them as in a net, and obliges them, in spite of themselves, to return another time to the object who has so well gratified a momentary passion.
Q. – What do you mean by metamorphosis?
A. – I mean that a perfect whore should, like the fabled Proteus of old, be able to assume every form, and to vary the attitudes of pleasures according to the times, circumstances, and temperaments. A thorough-bred whore has made her particular study for the various methods of giving pleasure to men for there is a difference between amusing a man of a cold constitution and a man of a warm one – between exciting a vigorous youth and a worn-out debauche. Nature, more impressed with the one, requires only to be relieved in the regular way; and, more moderate with the other, requires different degrees of titillation, situations more voluptuous, coaxings and frictions more piquant and more lewd. The whore who only exposes her bottom to a young Ganymede, will make him discharge almost to blood, while the same action shall produce but an ordinary sensation in another. The jerks and heaves of a strong lustful woman will plunge the man of vivid temperament into a torrent of delight, while they would be death to the effeminate strokes of the decrepit old lecher.
Q. – What are the characteristics by which you discover a whore from another woman?
A. – Her dress is gay and flaunting – her manners loose and unreserved, her looks bold and lascivious – and her conversation voluptuous and enticing. By these means her trade is known. Were she to affect modesty, there are many men so timid and bashful they would be afraid to accost her, and she would lose much good practice by assuming a decorous demeanour which might be misunderstood.
Q. – But is it not possible for a whore to imitate the decency
and reserve of a modest woman?
A. – Yes; and those of this class are most subtle. They allure by that means the simpletons they wish to dupe. They affect to be greatly enraged at their propositions, in order to entrap them the more securely: and how many are there caught in this snare who flatter themselves they have got something choice and safe, until they find themselves well poxed. Some whores make great profits by this kind of commerce, but it is only those who can move in a respectable style that can conveniently act this hypocritical part.
Q. – Have all women a decided penchant to become whores?
A. – Yes; all are, or desire to be whores, and it is nothing but pride or fear that restrains the greater part, and every girl who yields for the first time, is from that moment a decided whore. The smock once lifted, she is as familiarized to the game as if she had played it for ten years.
Q. – Ought a whore to give herself up to the pleasure whenever she submits to the embraces of a man?
A. – There is a medium in everything. It would be very imprudent in a whore to indulge herself in stroking to excess, as it would soon make the flesh soft and flabby; but there is a refinement in pleasure, which an accomplished whore should know how to use. A word, a gesture, a touch at the critical moment, produces in men the illusion of pleasure; and as the heart is an impenetrable abyss, the crafty courtesan often fulfils, by a fictitious enjoyment, the luxurious views of the men who content themselves with the appearance.
Q. – Ought a whore to administer as much pleasure to the man who only gives her a crown as to him who pays her liberally?
A. – It is certain that a whore ought to live by her vocation, and as the sperm which is injected into her will not serve for food, she ought to act with such a stroker as with the Father Zorobadel, and tell him –
‘Nescio vos.’
‘I live by my cunt, as you do by the altar.’
Nevertheless, the great art of a courtezan who would acquire a reputation, is to avoid appearing mercenary. She must study her men, and with some refuse the proffered fee. She will meet with those who will be susceptible of this delicacy, and be touched by the apparent disinterestedness shown them, imagining that she is more taken with their person than their money. The pleasure which does not appear to them to be bought, is more piquant and more thought of; and a whore is often a great gainer by this kind of artifice.
Fifty Shades of Victorian Desire Page 10