Anonymous: The Power of Mesmerism

Mr. and Mrs. Etheridge began to fondle, and after struggling a little together on the bed, Mamma was pulled onto her husband, and they commenced a most luscious St. George.

Heavens! What a sight for their incestuous son and daughter! With greedy eyes and bated breath, they watched that lovely prick appear and disappear within the loving cunt above it. Now the paroxysm of spending approached, and their voluptuous furor increased-it was simply maddening.

Frank and Ethel rushed forwards and with their hands assisted their beloved parents to experience the utmost possible enjoyment attainable, which they undoubtedly did, literally screaming with pleasure, as the spunk came forth in prolific streams.

Frank now determined to run a great risk in allowing his parents to know what was going on.

First directing his sister to lie on her back on the bed, with extended thighs, he willed his father to lie on her and himself placed his prick within her cunt. Then his mother (under his influence) lay on her back, on the bed by Ethel's side, and Frank, excitedly mounting upon her, buried his prick within the moist and juicy folds of the delicious cunt that gave him birth.

As they were all four approaching the divine climax, Frank dissolved the mesmeric charm and allowed both father and mother to realise the situation at a moment when it would be impossible for them to resist the impulses of their carnal nature.

Mr. Etheridge gave a cry of horror, and Mamma screamed with fright, but Ethel held her father in a convulsive embrace, her erotic fury making her at the moment as strong as a lioness, whilst Frank for his part thrust so vigorously at his mother that, in spite of their horror at the incestuous situation, they all spent simultaneously.

It would be impossible to describe the sense of shame that overcame the poor parents; they seemed to think they were still under the influence of some horrible dream, an idea which their children did their best to foster, whilst they were delighted by the sight of their father's fine prick stiffening again of itself, from the mere thought of having enjoyed his daughter.

Presently Ethel and her brother glided noiselessly from the room, but remained just outside the door to peep and listen. In a moment or two Mr. Etheridge threw himself upon his wife in a perfect transport of lust, exclaiming, "What a dream to fancy I've been fucking Ethel, and what joys she gave me! I feel, dear, as randy as if I had been away from you for six months!"

"How curious," sighed Mrs. Etheridge, "that I am also excited by having been dreaming the same thing about dear Frank! Ah, how fine, stiff, and hot your love of a prick is, my dear, and as moist as if you had really had the girl. Put it into me quick, love, and I'll fancy you really are Frank. I'm excited enough to do the real thing at this moment!"

"For shame, wife," responded Mr. Etheridge, "it's an awful sin even to think about, and yet they do say the great Napoleon used to fuck his own sisters and aunts, and considered he had a right to enjoy himself as he pleased."

"Besides," continued Mrs. Etheridge, "there's the case of Lot and his daughters, and no doubt they were thought quite as respectable as ever by their acquaintances afterwards. In fact, they must have told about it for Moses to have known how to write the tale, and he could not have been very horrified at the incest, as he makes no mention of its being discontinued by Lot when he found it out. And then, you know, the ancient kings of Egypt always preferred to marry their mothers or sisters."

Further remarks were stopped by the necessities of their amorous combat, so brother and sister retired, fully satisfied that their parents would soon be as easy as themselves with regard to incestuous intercourse with their children.

Next day Mr. and Mrs. Etheridge appeared greatly distressed and hardly able to look Frank and Ethel in the face, but in the course of a few days this all wore off. Their equanimity returned, and whether owing to the mysterious influence of mesmerism or otherwise, they afterwards willingly enacted every species of licentiousness with their own children.

One day Frank and Ethel related to their parents their experiences at college and school. Mr. Etheridge was so inflamed at the tale of the professor sodomizing the boy with the big prick that he declared he should never rest until Frank had procured him the same pleasure.

"Let me see," he said, "if I can think of a handsome, finely developed youth, who we can invite here some day for you to experimentalize upon. Yes, there's young Harry Mortimer. He has got a fine looking lump in his trousers-a perfect Adonis-I've often longed to handle his cock."

"You old sinner," laughed his wife, "I always thought you a strictly moral man. And to think your ideas ever ran in such a beastly course. I, too, must confess, now Frank's mesmerism has made us all free with one another, how hard it has often been for me to retain my reputation as a chaste wife. Why there's Dr. Stroker, our rector, who has tried me dozens of times, and once actually showed me his fine tool when we were alone in the drawing room. What a beauty it was! I almost fainted with desire."

"Ah," said Ethel, "that's nothing to what he did with me, when I had to go to the rectory to prepare for confirmation. I was always alone with him. He used to laugh and tell me that religion was all humbug, he himself only followed and preached it as his trade, to get a good living. He would draw me on his lap, put his hands up my clothes, and tell me my cunny would soon have a crop of beautiful soft hair on it. And one day he threw me back and kissed my cunt till I fainted, and when I came round my clothes were up to my waist, and he was standing between my legs as they hung over the side of the sofa and frigging himself so as to spend all over my belly, and after all would not let me go home till I had kissed and handled his cock. That was just before you sent me off to Madame Cul's school and no doubt all helped to make Minette's touches so awfully exciting when she began to seduce me with her wanton games."

"We'll have a game with him, Frank, my boy!" exclaimed Mr. Etheridge. "My idea now is that we may all do what we like to enjoy ourselves, only damn all jealousy. I'm a regular Communist now! Well, when I ride out to-morrow I will call and ask Harry to spend an early day with you."

"Have you found anything worth reading to us yet, Frank?" asked his Mamma.

"Yes, a little bit about the quarrels of the goddesses in heaven. It is an old volume of the writings of the 'London Spy.' Here it is," said Frank, taking up a book:

POEM

A health Jove began to the best end of Juno, By which they had often been "Junctus in Uno," The bowl went about with much simp'ring and winking, Each God lick'd his lips, at the health he was drinking; Whilst Venus and Pallas look'd ready to rave, That her Goddesship's scut should such preference have; The bowl being large, hoping the rather Their amiable rumps might have swam altogether. Thus both being vex'd, Venus swore by her power, The nectar had something in't, made it drink sowre: Which Pallas confirm'd by her shield and her sword, And vow'd 'twas as musty besides as a T-d But Juno perceiving 'twas out of ill-nature, That Venus and Pallas abus'd the good creature, Because to her Peacock, precedence was given, As the best and finest fledg'd bird in the Heaven; Insinuating under a wink and a snicker, As if the good health had corrupted the liquor: And finding they'd cast this reflection upon her, In Juno 'twas justice to stand by her honour: Who raising her bum from her seat in a passion, To Venus and Pallas she made this oration: "Pray Goddesses! What do you mean, I beseech it, To basely reflect on my Tippet-de-wichet? I know by your smiles, leering looks, and your winks, And your items and jeers, you'd insinuate it stinks: Dispraising the nectar, well knowing you meant, That a health to my Tw-t gave the juice an ill scent. Nay, laugh if you please, for I know I'm extreamly To blame, thus to blurt out a word so unseemly. But all know the proverb, wherein it is said, That a What is a What, and a Spade is a Spade; And now I'm provok'd, for a truth I may tell it, Tho' as red as a fox, yet it smells like a vi'let. By Jove I'll be judge, if I am not as sweet, I may say, as a primrose, from head to my feet. And he, you may swear, who's my husband and lover, Has kist me, and felt me, and smelt me all over, And if he can say an ill scent does arise, From my ears, or my armpits, my c-t, or my thighs, Like rotten old Cheshire, low Vervane or Ling, And altho' I'm goddess, I'll hang in a string. Your self, Lady Fair, that arose from the sea, Sure will not presume to be fragrant as me: The spark that has laid at your feet all his trophies, Has smelt you sometimes strong as pickl'd anchovies: But what if he has, were you ranker and older, You'd be e'en good enough for a smith or a soldier." These words put the Goddess of Love in a fire, And make her look redder than Mars that was by her. "My beauty," said Venus, "obtain'd the Gold Apple." "Mine A-s Kiss," says Juno, "you shall have a couple. I'd have you to know, Queen of Sluts, I defie you, And all you can say, or the bully that's by you. And as for that Tomboy that boasts she can wield, In quarrels and brangles, her lance and her shield, That never yet tasted the heavenly blessing, But always lov'd fighting, much better than kissing: I know she'd be glad to be ravish'd by force, By some lusty God, that's as strong as a horse. But who'd be so forward, unless he was tipsie, To choose for a miss, such a masculine gipsie? A termagant dowdy, a nasty old maid; Who flights copulation, as if she was spay'd: Which makes me believe, that under her bodice, She wants the dear gem, that's the pride of a Goddess." Now Pallas, enrag'd at so high a reflection, Cry'd out, "I thank Jove, I am made in perfection, And ev'ry thing have, from a hole to a hair, Becoming the Goddess of Wisdom and War; As Paris well knew, when he took a survey, Of those parts where a Goddess's excellence lay; Who strok'd it and smil'd, when my legs he had parted, And peep'd till I thought his poor eyes would have started. Then licking his lips, did aver to be true, I was each way as full well accomplish'd as you. Indeed, Madam Juno, I'll therefore be plain, If ever I hear these reflections again: I vow as a Goddess, and no mortal sinner, I shall have no patience, but handle your pinner." With that the Great Jupiter rose up in hot anger, And looking on Pallas, was ready to bang her. "Pox take ye," says he, "is your scolding a lecture, That ought to be preach'd o'er a bowl of good nectar? To drink we came hither, to sing and be civil; As gods, to be merry, and not play the devil. Why, mortals on earth, that live crowded in allies, As laundresses, porters, poor strumpets and bullies; When got o'er a gallon of belch, or a sneaker Of punch, could not wrangle more over their liquor. And you that are Goddesses, thus to be squabbling, As if you were bred up to scow'ring and dabbling! And all for a fig, or a fart, or a feather, Or some silly thing that's as trivial as either! For shame, my Fair Goddesses, bridle your passions, And make not in heaven such filthy orations About your bumfiddles; a very fine jest! When the heavens all know, they but stink at the best. Tho' ye think you much mend with your washes the matter, And help the ill-scent with your orange flower water; But when you've done all, 'tis but playing the fool, And like stifling a T-d, in a cedar close stool: Besides, Gods of judgment have often confest That the natural scent without art is the best." The Goddesses all, at these sayings, took snuff, And rose from their seats in a damnable huff: Their frowns and their blushes, they mingled together, And went off in a passion, I do not know hither.