Anonymous - Caroline

I have heard tell of men who frequently prostrate themselves before ladies and beg to be allowed to kiss their boots or even lick their toes. I have played such games myself, as well you know by now, but never with obsessiveness. If I am to be frank, I see no difference in such unmanly curs as a girl who bends before the birch, though the only equation to be drawn from this is that the one is submissive all his life while the girl Is merely schooled to pleasure and deserves the highest praise on ceding to the probing cock.

I will not say that this gentleman was such of whom I speak. He was merely to have an entirely new experience, albeit one that changed his way of life, I do believe, for he courted both thereafter by letter and begged them to do the same again. This indeed was the way that Caroline first described the adventure to me-which is to say in the convoluted fashion of women who keep one an eternity before the reaching of the point.

“What did you do-thereafter?” I first interrupted her.

“I am trying to tell you,” quoth she. “Having secured him well, and amid much blustering and yelling on his part, he was drawn into the drawing room and there we got his trousers down and tucked his shirt up. I will not relate his imprecations. Some were really those of a foul man and not a gentleman. Adelaide twisted his prick and told him to keep him quiet. I fetched a tin bowl-for I had seen Mama do such in games at home. I held his balls and frigged him into it. You should have seen his face! My dear!”

She could not contain her laughter at the episode. I waited patiently, then she went on, “Having done so, and milked him like a cow, he became very tremulous. I should have said that we forced him down upon his knees before he spilled his sperm. I left the bowl in front of him. A token of his wickedness, I said. He almost cried, and begged forgiveness in his weakened state.”

“Then did you throw him out?”

“No, no, the game was not then over, dear. I reminded him of his boast that he could butter both our buns. He, kneeling, tried to rise, but I prevented him, hands hard down on his shoulders while your darling sister raised her skirt and, bending over, thrust her naked bottom to his face. I pressed his head and forced his nose between her nether cheeks. It was no trial to hold him thus.

“There is one bun you have not buttered yet,” I said. He tried to shake his face away; we would not let him do, and kept him at it on and on until his cock twitched, quite despite himself. Continuing to press his nose deep to her bottomhole, I frotted at his pego once again.

“I can't, I can't!” he groaned into her splurging cheeks.

“You can-you must-you have to fill the bowl,” I said. Then Adelaide spun round and took his ears and rammed his mouth up underneath her quim.”

“Oho, you wicked girls!” I burst to Caroline.

“Who dares to speak of such? I made you do the same with Mama, and you know I did.”

“That was a game,” said I and blushed.

“Well, so was this, my dear, save he was much more forced to it than you. What a fuss you males make when we handle you! And anyway, 'twas he who accosted me,” said Caroline with a pert shake of her head. “Lick me, you dog!” were Adelaide's next words. A transformation seemed to come upon him then. Her legs were spread. He licked her for a long time, like a hound, and then he came again; the bowl received his offering. At that she stepped back, kicked him, and he groaned and would have slumped face forward, but I held him up. The game had palled a little, I confess, by then. His member was no use to either of us, and indeed we did not want it. Being told sharply to get up, he rose. We led him back into the hall and then untied his bonds. His bonds came loose. He stared at us with haggard look.

“'You will go,' I told him sharply. Adelaide then turned the doorknob and began to open it.

“'May I not see you again?' he asked to our astonishment and gazed from one to t'other as in a dream.

“'No, you may not,' I said. I was truly all a-wonder at his newfound attitude and feared he might attack us, as did Adelaide. She opened the door wider and stepped back.

“'I do not mind what you did to me,' he mumbled, 'I am deserving of it-I am a cur. I am not fit to lick your boots. No one has handled me like that before.

“'Perhaps they should have,' I said. The moment was quite electric dear. I knew not how to handle it. It was no game. His eyes had a deep look of humbleness. I quivered inwardly, but outwardly was calm.”

“Yes, I am sure you were,” I said. The story had a curious ring, yet I believed each word of it. After all that we had seen and done, she has no need to lean upon inventions of this sort. “And then?” I asked.

“He threw himself upon his knees again, head bowed, and kissed our boots, then shuffled backwards like a stricken animal and made his way at full pace down the drive. At the gate he turned and cried out something in beseeching tone that neither of us could dissemble. Adelaide closed the door. All day we could talk of nothing else. Then came his letters, begging to be treated so again. Uh! How could one deal with such a man?”

“You had uncovered something in his soul,” said I. There are many oddities in life like this. I have heard of men who have stolen women's drawers fresh off the washing line, but whether to sniff or what to do with them I do not know. Such men lurk on the edges of the world. I do not like their kind. They have unhealthiness.

Am I too subtle for you now, after such various confessions as I have made? I trust that I am not. I had indulged in such, but in quite different wise. Lord Somner's words as a to male attitudes were right. There were times when he and I were made to kneel-heads humbly tucked beneath the female's skirts, or made to seem that it was humble, I should say. It was a form of play, though, and no more. True, when bidden to, after thigh-and-knicker treatment, as it was sometimes called, and having sniffed between their legs but not allowed always to show our pricks, we would take our shuffling steps upstairs and heard their lilting laughter follow us.

Not long would pass, however, before we descended. I speak in the plural, though it always happened separately to us, and to several of Caroline's uncles, too. Upon reappearing in the midst again of lovely limbs and ardent eyes, the balance was by silent consent restored and all would act as if nothing curious had passed. Lord Somner-then more bluff and bold than I-would holler, “Come-who is for birching now? Where are the naughty girls?'

One or the other would then be taken up. The usual squeals would follow, then the moans, and then a silence as from pleasure spent.

The pendulum had swung full back again.

It may seem from my narrative that all our acquaintances have been of extremely amourous bent. The world is not made such, of course. Would that it was!

A case in point is that of Jane Maudesley and her sister, Ethel-the former being twenty-two and her sister two years her junior. They were, and are, utterly charming girls, quiet and modest when we knew them first and not given to such larks as I have mainly been describing.

It is but a month ago since Jane paid a visit to Caroline. Making my presence known-for I find the girl exceedingly attractive-I soon perceived that she desired to speak with my wife alone, and so I left them. A full hour later I was called to bid her farewell, found her pale and her face a little tear-streaked and asked with gentleness what was the cause.

“I will tell you later, dear,” interposed Caroline hastily. We escorted Jane to her carriage. I kissed her on the cheek and found it velvety. Her waist enticed my arm for a brief moment, then with a sad smile she was gone.