Anonymous: The Autobiography of a Flea, Book 3

“Every word, my daughter. But if you are too fatigued, I will not keep you up a moment longer.”

“I am fatigued of him, to tell the truth, Y-Your Reverence.”

“Oh? How so?”

“He is at me like a bull even when I am not of a mind to play the heifer to his bellowings, Y-Your Reverence. And because I am under indenture to him, I know I must serve his will, yet that takes all the pleasure from it. It is as if I were his chattel, and there is no humor in so obliging him. For, Your Reverence, even a bound girl sometimes pines to be courted, to have the say as to whether she will yield or not, without having to fear a beating – though in all justice, he is merciful in that direction.”

“I hold with your views, my dear child, for I do not countenance slavery of any kind. And, aye, I know your master well these thirty years, since we were striplings together; he has a good heart, that will I readily say of him. But does he not service you ably when you are of a mind to let him have at you?”

“Oh, Y-Your Reverence, I dare not tell you!” Once again, that simpering giggle that expressed her titillated confusion. But she stood very close to my jailer, for, though her words were muffled – perhaps because her face was reposing against his manly chest – I heard them plainly.

“When is your indenture up, my sweet child?”

“When I shall be twenty-one, Y-Your Reverence.”

“I will see that you come to no harm till then, my daughter. I will exhort him to find you a good husband when your time is served, and to settle on you a dowry of the wages you have earned all this while, for that is the law as to indenture.”

“Oh, Your-Your W-Worship!” she breathed gratefully.

His voice was hoarser now than it had been: “Not that titular appeal, my daughter, for I am not your judge, but your confidant. And thus in confidence and speaking confidentially which is the pursuance of my role this night, I say again that you are truly as fair as the daughters of Jericho who gave their warriors strength to stand against the battlements and fight valorously for the Lord.”

“You – you turn my head, Y-Your Reverence!”

“Nay now, Emily, I would have you turn yours that I may gaze upon the shimmering, lustrous mantle of your lovely hair which swathes you nearly to your hips.

Ah were you fated like the good Dame Godiva to ride the streets on a palfrey thus to move the obdurate tyranny of a noble lord who would not remit his subjects' taxes, I warrant you might nearly shield all your most intimate person with such a soft silken cloak!”

“Y-Your Reverence, you speak such fair words as no man has ever before spoken to me!”

“And yet does not your master – for I know him from the past to be one who savors the fleshy joys of our ephemeral existence – cozen you with soft words in the heat of his pleasuring with you?”

Once again the giggle of a maiden who doted on such titillating attentions, perhaps the more because, being bound, her favors could not always be so quixotically dispensed as her own ardent nature might have wished. “Oh, no, Y-Your Reverence! When he is in my bed taking his will of me, he utters rather more wordless sounds than sounding words.”

“Tsk, tsk, my daughter, that is like a pig at a trough eating his fill without pausing to reflect on the palatability of his viands nor the blessed generosity by which they are served him! Alas, my old comrade-at-arms has had his wits dulled with the passing years. And tell me, my daughter, does he sigh rapturously when his mouth sets down upon those full, enticing rosy lips of yours – as thus?” To which, suiting action to word, the English ecclesiastic applied his mouth on fair Emily's and gave her a lusty long and smacking kiss.

“Ohh! Ohh, never of late does he do that!” she gasped.

“How much he misses, that shortsighted master of yours! And this, my daughter, does he oft do this?”

I heard the rustling of garments, a tender scuffle, followed by an excited squeal of “Oooh – ahh – ouohh – Y-Your Reverence, how gentle your hands are on my arse, ohh, no, he pinches it and digs his sinewy fingers in cruelly when he is fucking – ohhhh, what is your finger doing there – ohh, how delicious it feels, you will make me cry out and then my master will hear me and know I have lied to him, for you are driving away all my fatigue!”

“Tender child, you feel my fingertip at the portals of that rear entry to pleasure which some maidens disdain as being against nature – do you not find it disturbing?”

“Oh, I do, I do, Your Reverence, of a certain, it so disturbs me I cannot wait till we are in bed – ohhh, let me but shed these garments of mine to be more ready for Your Reverence's desires, so very new are they to me!”

“Is this perchance why, my gentle Emily, you forbade Master Thomas to cross your threshold, wishing to test your fleshly powers against mine?”

“Tee hee! Oooh, Your Reverence – ahh – OH YOUR REVERENCE, ahh – ohh – you – you know everything in advance about me, do you not – ohh, how good it feels – oh how hard and red and angry-looking it is, forsooth much bigger than my master's – but you must not ever breathe a word to him that I find it so, or my poor arse will be black and blue for a dreary month!”

“Wherefore did you shriek aloud at that moment, my child?” Oh, how hoarse and throbbing was my unsuspecting jailer's voice now!

“I could – I could not help it, Your Reverence, when your finger penetrated into the little hole of my arse, for it tickled so wickedly that I very nearly yearned – oh, I dare not speak more – ohh, come to bed, I beg of you – I am longing to have that tremendously loaded pistol explode deep inside of me!”

“In the orifice where my finger was, perchance?”

“Oh, I have never had that done to me, Y-Your Reverence!”

“The thought frightens you?”

“Not so much the thought – for already, seeing you so strong and handsome and naked and like a new man I had never before espied, now that you had removed your awesome raiment, Your Reverence – but the deed itself! I could not support so massive an article inside so narrow a fissure, I am sure of it!”

“But all things are possible if one does not in advance set up impediment of the mind, my daughter, and we will try this essay after I have soothed you to it. Come, give me your lips, sweet Emily!”

By now, needless to say, they were abed, and I had been unceremoniously flung into a corner, locket in pocket of discarded cassock. But the room was small and hence I still could clearly make out what tangibly passed between them in the way of speech, even though I might not yet behold what tangibly passed between them – though, thanks again to my most articulate locket-holder, I was given graphic portrayal which you in turn, my esteemed reader, may delineate as befits your whim and fantasy.

Thus I could distinctly make out sweet Emily's somewhat ambiguously naughty response to his last query: “Which lips, Your Reverence?” which told me that the indentured beauty understood that a beneficent nature had bestowed on her three pleasure-giving, pleasure-receiving pairs.

“Those beneath your saucily upturned nose, my daughter,” Father Lawrence specified, and there was now the mellifluous music of a long impassioned moist kiss, after which Emily panted out, “Ohh, s-sir – my master has never so employed his tongue!”

“Surely you jest?”

“Oh, I never jest about being f-fucked, Y-Your Reverence,” Emily moaned in a tone which rather gave me to suppose that she was mightily absorbed in the strangely but far from unpleasantly new manner in which Father Lawrence was caressing her.

“But you should and must, my child, for fucking, being a bounty granted us after Eden, is never to be done gloomily nor hastily, lest one dull one's senses to the rarely complex nuances whereby mortal flesh is granted incomparable joys!” How well he spoke of fornicatory endeavors! I do not think in all my lifetime I had yet met one who was so imaginatively endowed to be capable of composing a very sermon on this provocative theme.