Anonymous - Gynecocracy

This was my first experience of an embrace since my circumcision; and it was eminently satisfactory.

To my supreme surprise and delight I found the entrance into paradise much easier, the contact with my mistress much closer, I could preserve it longer, and my power was greater; whilst the annoyance and discomfort caused by the forcible retraction of the tight skin had altogether vanished.

Mademoiselle, in her entrancing disorder, looked into my eyes and kissed me again and again. Her thick hair had partly fallen. Her lovely limbs in their exquisite underclothing were visible to my enraptured eyes which dwelt on their shape; and I was happy to be oppressed by them.

"Did you enjoy whipping Beatrice, Julia?" she asked mischievously as she stood up, her hands behind her head, re-knotting her magnificent hair.

"Yes," I answered, with a smile.

"Naughty girl! Have I made you happy?"

"Oh, Mademoiselle! Oh, my darling!"

"No, I am your mistress, Julia!"

"My darling mistress, then."

"My yoke is heavy, is it not, Julia?"

"Love makes it light," I replied-a reply for which I got another kiss.

Mademoiselle's passion lasted long. Although she would not then permit me a second embrace, yet its fires were not all assuaged or extinguished.

Before dressing for dinner she bathed. That night I was ordered to spend in her bed.

There was no preparatory ordeal on this occasion, but I had to take up the same quarters as on the first, down under the bedclothes, under and amongst the skirts of her night robe, my head between her legs, at once my pillows and my gaolers. I kissed her frequently, but she did not let me again explore the grove, or the recesses of the humid temple of the Cyprian goddess, which existed hidden in its luxuriant growth, except with my tongue. To do that, however, was the task imposed upon me and exacted rigorously.

In the morning, when I awoke, Mademoiselle had already arisen.

It is an ill wind that blows nobody good! The advantage of the operation I had undergone did not only lie in the greater ease and comfort with which I employed the best agent and the cleverest advocate of my feelings, but also in the fact that I ran no risk of having him flayed out of mere wantonness-an act Elise had perpetrated on me on more than one occasion.

Neither my cousins nor Elise could now slip their hands up my petticoats, excite Mons. Priapus, and retract his covering, leaving him raw and bald until they were pleased to re-hood him, or to permit me to do so myself.

But his head now reminded me of a vulture clothed with plumage up to the neck and bare beyond. In fact Elise made some remark of the kind as she dressed me and suggested that she should make a nice, soft warm cap for the poor chap. I did not respond either "yes" or "no."

In all respects I was now treated as a girl. All day long my ideas, wishes, and desires about exercise, about reading, about work, about sport, were pruned down, and assumed, as a matter of course, to be those which should influence the actions and life of a young lady of my age. What yet remained of my masculine propensities suffered great repression from this process.

It was a masterly measure and decidedly checked flirtation. But Mons. Priapus-abnormal or not-was there and free. And four or five days after the first day when Mademoiselle had admitted that I was restored to health I must narrate that certain appearances had (under extenuating circumstances, undoubtedly-a peeping ankle will do so much mischief) made themselves remarkable in front, just underneath the end of my corset, lifting my petticoats and skirts in a peculiar manner, making quite a little mound in front, and raising the garments higher off the ground than usual, and also further away from me so that they stuck out. 260

This was first noticed as I was standing one afternoon in the schoolroom reading in choice Italian some of Boccaccio's tales to Mademoiselle and my three cousins who were working. I was carried away by what I read and not caring to recall my thoughts from contemplation of the delightful ideas suggested by the author at first did not notice that I had not the attention of my audience, that the girls were tittering, and that Mademoiselle was gazing at me with amused anger, biting her lips either with vexation, or to repress her laughter. There was nothing laughable in what I read. I thought it was some of their tomfoolery and read on. I felt naughty, but never dreamt they would be able to discern any indications of it. At the end of the paragraph I came to a full stop.

"You may well stop, Miss!" remarked Mademoiselle. "A pretty exhibition you are making of yourself," she continued, laying aside the embroidery, upon which she had been engaged.

"It is an unfortunate interruption," cried Agnes. "I was much interested in the adventures we were listening to. I wonder whatever the Signora did with her lover. Julia, I wish your abnormal development was-was-"

She dared not conclude her sentence before Mademoiselle, but her eyes told me what she meant.

"Was inside me," is what she would have said.

Through the perplexity and embarrassment I suffered I felt the germination of the same desire. I would have given her a reason for no longer laughing at me. But I dared not dwell on it or the phenomenon would have again become noticeable!

"Julia!" said Beatrice, "is not responsible. It is all Mr. Boccaccio's fault."

Beatrice had evidently not forgotten the whipping I had given her a few days before.

"I really cannot permit," broke in Mademoiselle, "such an indecent exhibition. I cannot pass over it-Julia, I am shocked and ashamed of you-a young lady should know how to restrain herself, and if she does not know she must be taught. Beatrice, take your cousin and put her down on that couch upon her back, and hold her arms over her head."

Sinking with shame, afraid to say a word in self-defence, I was led to the couch and laid across it. It was in a prominent part of the room.

"Maud, lift up her skirts-throw them over her head-take off her drawers-spread out her legs."

These directions were all speedily obeyed. I resigned myself with a choking in my throat.

"Now keep her so, until I return," ordered Mademoiselle.

"I shall have the birching of you, Julian, in a few minutes. I knew," said Beatrice, "I knew my revenge would come. Won't you catch it!"

"I declare," exclaimed Maud, "your remark has made the thing positively rear its head."

"Oh, Julia!" went on Maud, first clasping her hands before her and then kneeling between my knees, almost touching "him," for whatever my sex, he was certainly masculine. "Oh, Julia! Do you remember?"

"Remember what?" angrily exclaimed Beatrice.

"Mind your own business, Bee. He is just as much mine as yours."

If Maud had said more mine than yours, she would have been more accurate, nearer the truth.

"Indeed," rejoined Beatrice scornfully, "he has sold himself to me long ago. I know what happened in your studio, Maud."

"You don't," screamed Maud, an angry flush rising and spreading itself all over her countenance.

"Yes, I do," quickly replied Beatrice, "and he is to marry me for it; and I shall compel you, Maud, when we are married, to ask for a repetition of it."

Maud's angry flush died away. She thought it wiser not to pursue the subject; instead she caught her skirts with both her hands, and slightly raising them asked, "Now?"

"I think your assumption and airs of proprietorship quite absurd," she continued. "He is not his own to give away or to sell, and as you say you know all about it, no doubt you are aware that Elise, in whose possession he was by Mademoiselle's own order, sold him to me."

"That's all very fine," quickly retorted Beatrice, with a readiness a lawyer might have envied, raising herself up, throwing her head back, and speaking the words with great defiance, "but he was to have been only for three days in Elise's possession even if you had not interfered; and you surely do not imagine that she could have sold him to you for a longer time than she was to have had him herself?"