Anonymous - Muriel

'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'.