Phyllis Norroy - Child Love

Good-bye, Marie, I am your own, Phyllis,

My dear Marie, After the events described in my last letter I did not see Lady Norton for a week or more as she joined Sir Harry in London the next day. I expected to have a dull time during the absence of my friends, and but for one or two incidents it would no doubt have proved so, and although I did not myself partake directly in the pleasures of the principal scene if may be worthy of narrative as it opened up new ideas in my mind regarding the passions of the outside world.

During my visit to the sea side, I had made friends with a little girl about a year younger than myself, who, I am afraid, learnt more from me than her mother might have considered proper for a child to know. She was a pretty active little maid, nearly twelve years of age, with long brown hair and laughing eyes, and a sensitive little mouth that I found much satisfaction in kissing, for her lips were soft and sweet, and moist, and made me think of her other lips which I learnt to know were sweeter still. My little friend's name was Helen Fitzgerald, and as we had often bathed together at my quiet little creek, and then before dressing had played about the rocks and shallow pools in the sun, a very close intimacy sprang up between us, and our actions and conversation when alone together were of the freest kind.

In fact, Marie, when so inclined we often satisfied each others desires, and she being younger than myself I told her all I knew. Of course I did not mention my connection with the Nortons, but I told her all that had happened placing the scene far away at my own home.

One day a large excursion train came to our village containing Sunday-school children and teachers from London. Helen and I watched the crowd of men and women, young men and maidens, boys, girls and parsons issue from the station, and then taking our books we went off to the sand hills and rocks by the sea-shore to spend a quiet afternoon together. Whether it was the warmth of the summer day, or that we found our books rather uninteresting, I cannot say, but we soon resorted to another way of passing the time pleasantly with each other. First little Helen unbuttoned and took off my drawers, and then I did the same to her and what followed when we were thus half naked, I need not describe, but it was very sweet. After this she ran off, flushed and happy, to ramble about the rocks while I settled down to my book again. The Sunday-school children were all playing by the edge of the water far away, and I could hear their shouts of pleasure as they paddled in the sea, and enjoyed the cool salt water as only town-bred children can. Not far from where I was lying the land rose quickly from the shore forming cliffs in which were one or two large caves and these Helen and I had again and again explored, during our rambles. Now from one of the caves there was a bidden outlet near the entrance leading to the ground above. It was formed by a crack in the rocks through which in time of flood the water flowed, leaving the fissure partly filled with gravel and soil from the higher land, and it was not a difficult matter to ascend or descend to the cave by means of this natural passage; in fact we had often done so. Suddenly, while I was still reading, Helen ran up to me at full speed, crying in a half-whisper. “Oh Phyllis, Phyllis! There's a man and a girl coming over the rocks and he seems to be making love to her, and I am sure they are going to our cave.

Shall we go and see?” This was very sharp for a girl of eleven and did credit to my training! In an instant I sprang to my feet.

“Lie down,” she said, “or they will see you,” and immediately I was on my knees again, peering «w the edge of the cliff. There I saw coming over the rocks in the direction of our cave a young man dressed in boating costume with a white jersey and flannel trousers, and his coat hanging over his arm. Beside him walked a girl of seventeen or eighteen years of age, and apparently very pretty. He was evidently speaking very earnestly to her and as she hung her head I could not in my childish innocence think that the nature of his remarks related strictly to Sunday-school affairs. I recognized the girl as one of those who from her pretty face and figure had attracted my attention on leaving the station and at once guessed – as Helen had done – that some love scene was about to take place in the solitude of the cave which neither of us would like to miss seeing. No time however, was to be lost, so setting off at a run we gained the entrance which I have described, then quickly climbing down – for we knew every foothold in the rocks – we were soon hidden behind a large piece of stone which almost entirely blocked the entrance of the passage but did not prevent our having a complete view of the interior of the cave. Soon we heard voices approaching and I cautioned Helen not to move or say a word, whatever might happen, but secure as we were from being discovered, I felt my heart beating with excitement. Then the voices ceased, and we could only hear footsteps as they neared the mouth of the cave. When just within the entrance where we could see them the girl stopped and said: “Let us stand here, I am going no further,” and then added, “What is it that you have to say, Charlie, that requires us to come to such a place as this?” I now had a better opportunity of seeing her and she was certainly very pretty and fresh and young, her slim figure making her look taller than she really was; she wore a white straw sailorhat with a ribbon to match the colour of her tie and skirt, the latter being of a soft grey cloth beautifully cut and fitting closely round her hips and falling very straight in front to within an inch or two of the ground, so that when she walked or faced the wind the outline of every curve of her beautiful figure could be seen. She wore no jacket, but a white cotton blouse with a man's starched collar and, as I have said, a grey tie in a sailor's knot the ends of which were fastened by a gold broach just above the large silver buckle of her belt.

Charlie, as the girl had called him, was decidedly good-looking, with a large fair moustache and curly hair, and would be about twenty-three or twenty-four years old. “Cannot you guess, Ethel?” he said at last. “I have told you how I love you and I want you to come inside the cave where nobody can see us, and then I shall try and show you what love really is.” Then taking her in his arms he kissed her passionately on the lips. Ethel struggled but he held her tight with his left arm while with his right hand he felt her hips and thighs through her tight fitting dress. “You have brought me here to insult me,” she cried indignantly. “Oh let me go! Let me go, Charlie, and I will try to forget this awful scene, and forgive you!”

“Ethel, my darling,” her lover said in a broken voice, “I have gone too far to draw back now. Before we leave this cave I shall, either by force or with your consent, enjoy all the pleasures that your body possesses. I am going to seduce you Ethel, for I love you.

Oh, do give yourself up to that pleasure and do not resist me, darling.” Then Ethel raised her voice and cried. “Help! Help!” but not before Charlie had gently put his lips to hers, and thus prevented her voice reaching any great distance. Ethel was terribly distressed now, and her lover hastened to bring the scene to a close. Half-dragging, half-carrying her to a bed of sand close to the place where Helen and I were hidden, he forced her as gently as possible to the ground, and as she still struggled to keep on her feet he was at a favourable moment able to get his knees between hers, and at the same time pull her dress and petticoats up in front with his right hand, and as she had not any drawers on, or other covering except her black stockings, we saw the full extent of her rounded legs. This happened just as she lost her balance and sank backwards onto the sand. It was not a difficult matter for a man of Charlie's strength to hold so slight a girl with his left arm as he knelt between her knees, so his right hand remained free to unfasten and pull down his own trousers, after he had first raised Ethel's skirt and petticoats as high as her corset would allow them to go. Then in spite of all her struggles, her cries for help, and protestations, his hand sought out and gently caressed her softest and sweetest charms.