Anonymous - Memoirs of a Voluptuary, or the Secret Life of an English Boarding School

“Come Charlie. Meet Sir Henry,” said Cecil, and quite suddenly I found myself standing in front of this extraordinary man.

“Sir Henry, I should be pleased to introduce you to Charles Powerscourt,” said Cecil.

“Charles. Welcome to our Spring celebration!” Sir Henry said, his green eyes flashing merrily. His voice was like the velvet night-time and the sound seemed to caress my being down to my very depths. He leaned forward and kissed me on either cheek. He then turned to Gaston and warmly embraced him, clearly happy to see him again. As the greetings concluded of Sir Henry's arrival, it seemed that the entertainments were to begin.

The music continued to play, and Sir Henry presently left the great hall once again only to return shortly with an especially handsome young boy in tow. I gasped with surprise to see the lad following in absolute submission totally naked as he was, wearing only a golden rope around his neck which Sir Henry lead him in by.

“Gentlemen,” announced Sir Henry, “May you take your pleasure before this living personification of the God of Love!” Sir Henry's eyes sparkled with pleasure. He led the young man to the center of the huge room and stood there on naked display for our pleasure; naked save the golden rope that still hung about his neck.

The men of Society X suddenly began removing their clothing in furious abandon. I glanced over to see that Cecil and Gaston were following the custom, and so I gleefully removed my costume as well.

The men began to surround the beautiful figure of the lad, who reminded me of the classical Adonis, and began to cast toward him offerings of roses, white, red and yellow. They bowed and kissed his feet and caressed his unmoving figure with bacchanalian abandon.

Slowly we formed a circle around this symbol of youth and beauty, and quite suddenly, I felt a hand grip my cock which had naturally sprung to attention in all this excitement. It seemed that the links of the circle were formed of a sort of human flesh chain, with the links of this fence of passion being each man who held a cock in hand. Being caught up in the fancy of this playful celebration of life, I reached next to me and found to my astonished delight, Sir Henry!

I wordlessly reached down between his legs for his cock. I saw that Sir Henry indeed had a Prince Albert ring pierced through the head of his penis, and my body thrilled with eagerness to stroke this man and give him pleasure. We began a rhythmic ritual, in which each man stroked his neighbor's cock in a mutual frenzy of delight.

My cock had been slowly on the rise since we entered the meeting place of Society X, and now in the able hands of Sir Henry, I felt as though I would positively burst with pleasure. I looked about me at this astonishing scene, and noted that many other members of Society X also had golden cock rings. From that day on, I was determined to wear one, a fantasy that eventually came to pass, but that was much later. For now I was happy to simply imagine it, and take pleasure in lightly fingering the one which ran through Sir Henry's magnificent prick. Soon enough, under Sir Henry's titillations, I felt my body growing hotter and hotter, and my muscles contracting in climactic excitement. I thrust my hips forward and just as I was about to come, a page silently appeared from seemingly nowhere and placed a chalice beneath Sir Henry's hand which still held my cock.

“Spend in the chalice, Charles,” he said to me. I was so impassioned with the dreamlike quality of the events that his voice sounded very far away, and I did as I was told, pouring my hot spunk into the cup presented to me for that use. When I opened my eyes, I saw other members of Society X doing the same thing, as young pages collected their spunk in chalices, and presented them to each man.

When the last sigh heaved through the echoing chamber of marble, Sir Henry raised his own chalice and toasted the members of Society X. He sipped from his cup, and everyone followed his example, including myself. I was surprised to find that my own spunk tasted just like all others that I had tasted. Before I had a chance to completely swallow my drink, Sir Henry leaned forward and embraced me in a passionate kiss, spilling the remaining dewy drops of his liquor into my own mouth, and drinking of my own essence with his lips and tongue. When at last we parted, I turned and saw Cecil and Gaston locked in what I guessed was a similar ritual kiss.

And then without direction, the members of Society X proceeded to approach the young man who still stood in the center of our sexual circle, a sight that no doubt gave us all a great deal of pleasure. One by one, the members began to tip their silver chalices and pour the remaining contents of their goblets onto this golden boy, coating him, veritably basting him in a sheen of dewy spend.

The men reached forward, touching each and every portion of his body, pressing the tips of their fingers into the firm flesh of his breast, the dense meat of his thighs. Glistening strands of spend would hang gingerly between their hands and his buttocks, between their tongues and his shoulders. Dozens of hands stroked his graceful neck, his gossamer hair, and his sperm-slicked body, massaging it, granting his beautiful penis no choice but to ripen and engorge.

A handsome dark-haired man, late into his thirties took our Adonis's hand and placed each and every one of the boy's fingers into his hot mouth to suck them one at a time. An older man held fast one of the golden boy's buttocks and kissed and licked it as if it were the last perfect bowl of peaches, covered with the sweetest cream. Still other men were indulging themselves in his breathtaking carnality, and they grabbed him 'round his limbs and began to bite him, nibbling at the firm beef of his breasts and sinking their teeth into the more tender flesh above his hips and 'round his belly.

They appeared set to devour this young godling alive as would a pack of starving wolves a lone fattened lamb, even as the pearly rain continued to run down his body. The men, seemingly drunk with passion, flicked about him fiercely, like souls possessed, striving with one another to smother him in their embraces as they smeared their semen over his body with their hands and lapping up the moisture with their tongues in a demonic fury of fanaticism.

I, too, moved into the orgiastic fray, along with Cecil, Gaston and Sir Henry, and within short moments, I found myself face to belly with this golden boy just as he was about to reach the height of his own ecstasy. Having taken hold of that fantastic dew covered cock, Sir Henry passed it to my mouth, and I gave it just one tremendous suck before it released a torrent of spend which sprayed my face and fell upon the lips of four other men who plunged their mouths into my immediate vicinity. Our Adonis let out an almost inaudible groan, and was quickly lost in a sea of firm and sweating bodies. As the night progressed, we were a heap of entwined manhood, indistinguishable and locked in a continual labyrinth of exquisite desire.

Somewhere during the evening, I must have passed out from intoxication. I was drunk from sexual bliss and a little too much wine. I awoke the next morning, tucked into bed at Cecil's home in Avenue Moche, and for a moment I thought the preceding events were purely figments of my dream life. But when Gaston bounded in my bedroom a little later and began to excitedly recount the evening's history with me, I realized that it had indeed occurred. It remains, until this day, one of the most significant evenings of my life.

A general breaking up followed after supper and soon Cecil, Gaston and I were ensconced in our carriage and taken back to the city.

As we were on the way, Gaston fumbled at his breeches and took out his member, holding it with his hand.