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

“I think so too,” he agreed, “But it would be useless to say anything to the Prince, he is so arrogant – and it appears that he misbehaved himself very much, otherwise the Prince would not have used the form of punishment which he did. It is as the Romans used it to flog their slaves in a similar manner, only in their case it was much worse, as a heavy weight which they called 'centupondium' was attached to the poor creature's feet. There is as much pleasure as anything else in the punishments which take place here.”

The Prince returned to us and we went back to the salon. Some time elapsed before at length he beckoned me to him. Taking my hands in his, he looked at me with a glance of approval, and turning to Cecil, said, “Gaston has such a nice body. I quite envy you your intimacy with him. I should love to whip him! Nothing gives me so much pleasure as to practice on a young and tender body like his.”

“I am afraid, Rodya, that you must forego your wish. I do not think our young friend is pleased at the idea. And I would not have you hurt him for the world.”

“I should not think of hurting him. I have no intention of using anything but my bare hand. I have set my mind on it and must have my way! It is not too much to ask!”

I was of a different opinion and, as I saw the Prince's meshes folding close around me, I felt minded to draw away and hurl defiance at him. The words of pointblank refusal came to my lips, but I could not speak. The Prince had fixed his eyes on me, and their imperiousness and daring shattered my force of will as with a blow. He was one of those persons whose strength of character enforces obedience and enables them to carry out their desires against any odds.

Cecil, whom I had regarded as my ally, failed me in this hour of my need and spoke no word of protest, but remained a silent and interested spectator of the scene.

With an impatience of action, the Prince soon had me over his lap, my shirt turned up and my bottom exposed to his enraptured vision.

His happiness was my agony and I felt wrath indeed with Cecil at not joining force with me and preventing the Prince from carrying out his design.

The Prince continued his slaps, each one seeming more hurtful than the last, and I writhed under the exquisite pain. A numbness set in which served to counteract the stinging sensations I had at first experienced at each impact of the Russian man's palm, and a delicious glow began to make itself felt, and soon spread all over me. I don't know whether you have read the Confession of Jean Jacques Rosseau, but if so, you will recollect the pleasure he felt in being birched by his teacher.

All notion of painfulness had departed; the spirit of lubricity alone reigned. I no longer pined for the moment of release, but submitted to my penance – martyrdom no longer – with a sigh of content.

My lasciviousness knew no bounds when Cecil put his hand under my belly and closed his fist on my cock. My member worked in his hand as in a natural sheath, and when aided by sundry judicious little pressures and well calculated movements, he rather increased my joy.

All idea of his treachery was dissolved and I thanked him in my heart for not allowing me to miss the good fortune that I had encountered. As the Prince's arm rose and fell, I rose and fell with it, at each downwards motion striving to force my cock further into the warm nest offered it by Cecil's closed hand.

My breath came and went quickly and my jaws tightened under the ardor I felt. I could stand no more; my spirit was moved to its inmost depths and I emitted an expiring cry as I melted into a delightful ecstasy. My member leaped about like a live thing as it threw off its charge of sperm, while Cecil tightened his grasp on it as the sudden wetness imparted to him my warm spurt of semen.

The Prince and Cecil lifted me up between them and the later turned aside to wipe his moistened palm with his handkerchief, while my shirt falling down as I stood on my feet, concealed the traces of my recent sensual agitation from view.

“I thank you so greatly Gaston for yielding to me,” said the Prince, kissing me on both cheeks. “I owe you much for your patience and forbearance.”

I made some polite rejoinder and then proceeded to refasten my attire, while the Prince turned to Cecil.

“This has been too much for me, my dear,” he said. “I must go to seek relief. Will you come too?”

Cecil expressed his willingness and immediately arose.

“Gaston can amuse himself here while we are away,” said the Prince. But my friend took him aside and began to talk in a low voice. He was evidently using his persuasion in my behalf, for the Prince finally replied, “Very well, he can accompany us. I never would have suggested such a thing myself as it seems scarcely proper, but it cannot matter much, from what you say.”

So I went with them to the Prince's bedchamber, where Cecil and I took our seats on the couch, while our companion started to undress.

The Prince at once bade me to kneel before him when he had at last finished his dishabille. I looked towards Cecil for assistance, but he simply smiled and then pressed forward and whispered to me, “You know how to please, Gaston!”

I tentatively moved towards the Prince, and once close enough, he grabbed me roughly by my lapels and ordered me to suck his cock, which he had presented to my quivering lips. He shoved my head between his legs and pressed me down, urging me to begin.

I was somewhat startled at first, for the Prince had previously taken so little notice of me except as an object of his fancy for spanking. I obeyed of course, and took his thick cock into my mouth. All at once he thrust deep into my throat, which nearly caused me to rear back, but the Prince held to my head firmly.

At first I was displeased by his force as he pushed his strong hands on top of my head. My eyes welled with tears from nearly choking on his large member. But soon my displeasure and anger gave way to a warm sort of torpor which was augmented by his power. As he pressed my head down, and curled his fingers tautly through my hair, my throat opened as if to receive him deeper and deeper. I gave myself up to his forceful stabs, and my submission gave me tremendous pleasure, as though my body tingled with a new sort of abandon, giving myself up to his prick and delight. When one absolutely delivers their own body to the pleasure of another, a great deal of satisfaction can be derived. And thus I found myself moaning with pleasure, even as I held the Prince's cock deep in my mouth. I sucked more and more passionately and soon I could feel his muscles stiffen, and I could hear above me a cry of pleasure as he spent his royal load into my swollen kisses. I swallowed his come thirstily, and would've taken more had there been more. I continued to gently suck and lick his cock and balls clean. Reluctant was I to relinquish his prick from my lips. At last he pulled away from me and exclaimed to Cecil, “Cecil, my dear friend! What a treasure you have found here!”

But before Cecil could answer, the impetuous Prince adopted a lordly tone and said that we were welcome to take our leave.

“As you wish, Prince,” said Cecil, with a smile and bow.

“Ah Cecil,” said the Prince as Cecil turned to go, “Will you not bring him again to see me one day? It would afford me great pleasure.”

Cecil replied that he would certainly bring me again when an opportunity might occur, and I also told the Prince on my part that I should be most pleased to take advantage of his kind invitation.

Our stay was brought to a termination shortly after this, and having taken leave of the Prince, we drove back to the Avenue Moche.

“There, my tale has taken rather longer than I expected, so you ought to feel correspondingly grateful to me. The meeting now adjourns, good night!”