The girl lay quiet, Kitty telling her not to be a fool; but I was a fool, for the notch being small I did not hit it well. Putting my prick down to where my fingers underlied the split, I pushed towards the goal, not pressing her with my body, but keeping my weight off by leaning on my right elbow, for it seemed that if I laid on her I should crush and frighten her, the girl seemed so slim. My tool struck hard at the orifice, she howled. Fearing to miss my game I then fell with the full weight of my body on her, grasping her thin buttocks, and nearly stifling her on that hot afternoon, determined to have her if I killed her. The girl gave howl after howl, and I rammed with all my might the more. “Hish!—hold your tongue you foule,” said Kitty. As the girl wriggled violently, and cried.
“Damn you, if you are not quiet I’ll rip your dress into ribbons, and you may go home, and tell your mother what you like,—damn you I’ll murder you,—I’ll give you ten shillings.” “You fool he’ll give you ten shillings.” I heard no more, oscillating my arse, and driving with all my force between her legs, I knew not how, I knew not where. Still the girl howled, and Kitty kept hushing.
“The woman will turn us out of the house you foule,—she won’t let me come in again,—oh! you foule,” said Kitty. In my blind battering I at last lodged the tip well between the lips. The next instant with a cunt-splitting thrust I was up the howling little bitch who wriggled like an eel; but I held her skinny arse up to me like a vice, kept my peg fixed and un-moveably up her in spite of her. Her wriggles alone would have kept it stiff enough, and fetched me. “Be quiet,—I am up you,—I can’t h—hurt—you—now,—ah!”—and my spunk was up the virgin quim of the ugly little devil.
She laid quiet, but whining, “Oh! you said you would not hurt me,—ho!—hho!” she sobbed, then laid quite still with my prick up her, snottily whimpering, “o—oho!”—and all was tranquil, I nearly asleep.
“Is it in her?” said Kitty in a whisper, “is it in yer Pol?” Having got no answer from me. “Oh! what a foule you are.” “I’ve done it,” said I. “Let her get up,” said Kit. I don’t recollect having been up such a tight cunt, not that it gave me pleasure, but the extreme tightness was such a novelty. “I will do it again.” “Have you done it really?” said Kitty. “Put your hand and feel,” said I opening my legs a little to let Kitty feel under my testicles, “my prick’s right up her cunt now,—feel.”
“Have you done it really?” “Yes,—feel.” “Ri—tol—lural—li—do!” said Kitty setting off in a happy dance all round the room. I went on fucking, keeping the girl quiet, I could pull her little form up to me as tight as wax, and coaxing and promising all sorts of things I fucked her again without uncunting.
“Have you really done it?” said Kitty again. “Yes twice,—put your hand up under my balls and feel.” Kitty thinking better of the suggestion this time did so, and satisfying herself that my prick was out of her touch, set off dancing again with a “ri—too—ralooral—ledo!” I got off the girl, the hair of my prick saturated with blood and spunk. “She is bleeding.” The girl began sniveling worse than ever when she heard that, and began feeling her cunt.
“What are you crying for you foule?—did he hurt you much?—let’s look at it,”—and Kitty looked at the little quim bunged up with sperm mixed with blood. “Oh! ain’t he done it!—ritollooralado, ritolloolra-lado,” and she capered again. “What are you dancing and singing for?” I asked. “She’s had it done,—oh! look what a mess is on the bed, the woman will kick up a row.”
“Get up and wash it you fool, and don’t cry.” “It hurts.” “Wash it.” “It will hurt.” “No it won’t you foule.” Here Kitty put a basin on the floor, pushed the girl towards it, and made her wash. Then we got her on to the bed, and both of us took a long, long look at her split. It was bleeding freely, I saw the ragged edge my intrusion had made, and not feeling inclined for more fucking gave the girl half-a-sovereign in gold, Kitty five shillings, and went off leaving them still naked, Kitty from time to time looking at her friend’s wounded orifice, and saying it would soon be all right, that her thing had bled also. I had fear that I might be in trouble through my voluptuousness, although a girl of twelve years is competent to judge of her own fitness for fucking, and many not a month over that age are plugged daily in London.
I had to go to the Temple that afternoon, returning along the Strand an hour afterwards, not thinking of my afternoon’s amusement, for I had had a disagreeable interview with solicitors, when just at the end of C——- Street was a slight crowd, in the middle of it the two girls, and the one I had fucked an hour before crying. Some man gave her money. “Oh! Lord,” thought I, “here is a row about what I have been doing,” so got into a cab, and drove off. When a mile away I began to reflect, and felt more comfortable, but still uneasy, and determined not to meet them the next day as I had promised. The day after I saw Kitty walking by herself, that funked me again, so I cut away without her seeing me. Thought I, “There will be a row about that ugly little lump having been pierced, I will go no more.” But the letch was so strong that I could not resist, and on the third day driving past in a cab I saw the two girls as usual looking in at shops. Alighting I winked as I passed, heard one say, “Here he is,” and three minutes afterwards we were all in the house again.
To strip the two, and examine their cunts was an affair of five minutes, then laying the little one open-legged I looked at hers tranquilly, and saw how the slit was completed. The girl whose name I forget, but will call Pol, put her finger down, and indicated where, she felt a difference had been made in the shape. I fucked the lass at the side of the bed, propping up her skinny rump with pillows, Kitty with her face about a foot off admiring the prick as it shoved in and out the little red orifice. It was a novelty to her to see it done.
Kitty was an odd girl. “Don’t hurt her now,” she kept saying. The little one had objected to my probing her again with my prick, but saying I should otherwise not give her a farthing she consented. My delight was increased by the power I found I had of making her howl whenever I shoved vigorously, and I nearly knocked my prick through into her womb I imagine. The more she howled the more I banged my prick up her, the more I enjoyed her.
When it was over I asked how she had spent her money. Out burst the little animal into tears. “She made me drop it, I didn’t spend any of it sir, I lost it.” “You dropped it yourself,” said Kitty. “You lie.” “I don’t.” “She does,”—and so on, and I got at the facts when Kitty had vigorously slapped the face of her friend, and called her fifty times a foule.
Going into the Strand the girl had the money in her hand, Kitty told her to put it into her pocket. She refused. Kitty said she would lose it, and just then she dropped it close by a sewer-grating, down which the half-sovereign went. The girl cried, the two quarreled, and there was soon a crowd round them. Kitty said that the girl’s mother had given her a half-sovereign to buy some bread with, and she had lost it. Someone gave the girl sixpence, the crowd dispersed, and Pol lost the fruits of her first fucking. Never was lost a virginity so poorly rewarded. I did not make up her loss, but gave her half-a-crown with which she was well contented. I certainly was in luck to get all this fun for such trifling sums, I being still in poorish circumstances. Five years before I would have given thirty pounds for the same, and had paid two hundred for Louise.
Giving Kitty three and six, and beginning to put on my drawers she said, “Oh! do it to me, you have done it to her.” “Do you want it?” “Yes.” “Feel my cock.” Kitty grasped it eagerly, we got on to the bed, Pol watched now the graceful manipulation, insertion, and wriggles of pleasure of her friend, for Kitty was fast learning fucking, though quite innocent of the art of frigging. I never knew such a bungler as she was at her first attempt at that.
I grew tired of ugly little Pol when I had bored her a few times, and would not have her again. Kitty I continued to see, she was a most amusing girl. Too young on the town to have
learnt the tricks and cunning of a harlot, naturally frank and truthful, with some liking for me (for she looked forward to our voluptuous dallyings), she gave me for a long time much amusement, and I heard the incidents of her short life. She would jabber like a magpie about them when she knew me well, which she soon did, and began to look to me regularly for her supply of money.
She used directly she caught sight of me, to walk as fast as possible towards the house, and get in before me. She was in the room waiting and grinning when I got there. “Shall I take off my things?” “Yes.” Off they went, and on to the bed the plump white-skinned little girl rolled whilst I undressed at leisure. “Open your legs Kit, and let’s see your cunt.” How she clutched my prick the moment I was by the side of her. It really was very nice.
She said, “I buy things to eat, I can’t eat what mother gives us, she is poor, and works very hard, she’d give us more, but she can’t; so I buys food, and gives the others what mother gives me, they don’t know better,—if mother’s there I eat some, sometimes we have only gruel and salt; if we have a fire we toast the bread, but I can’t eat it if I am not dreadful hungry.” “What do you like?” “Pies and sausage-rolls,” said the girl smacking her lips and laughing, “oh! my eye ain’t they prime,—oh!” “That’s what you went gay for?” “I’m not gay,” said she sulkily. “Well what you let men fuck you for.” “Yes.” “Sausage-rolls?” “Yes, meat-pies and pastry too.”
“What did you let the first man do it to you for?” “I don’t know, he came up to me and told me he’d give me some money, if I would go to a house with him,—he only wanted to talk with me, and I was then so hungry. He took me to No. 4, just opposite here, and did it to me.” “What did he give you?” “Five shillings.” “You had never had it before?” “Never.” “I don’t believe you.” “I never had, I’m only fifteen and a little,—he met me in the Strand near where you did,” she cried indignantly. “Did he hurt you?” “Yes, and made me bleed,—I was upset, and didn’t think much about it till I got home and found my shemmy bloody. I washed it, and put it on again quite wet, so that mother mightn’t know.”
As she talked she would feel my cock, every now and then raise her head to look at it, fall back again as if satisfied, and go on feeling it and talking.
She was intensely curious about my prick, would lay and examine it for half-an-hour at a time silently. One day after feeling it she asked if she might do what she liked with it. Certainly. She moved on to her knees (we were both stark naked on the bed, and had fucked not long before), and began feeling it, skinning, then covering the tip, looking under the balls and smelling it. “How smooth and red it is,” said she,—“Does that hurt?” and she rubbed her finger over the tip orifice. “A little,—wet your finger,” She did. “Shall I wet it with my tongue?” “Do.” She licked it, and bit by bit put it into her mouth, asking me occasionally if she hurt me. I laid amused with the sexual promptings of her nature. She took it out of her mouth, put it in again, then it got stiff, then she laughed. “Isn’t it funny?” said she, “how smooth and red it is,—first it’s flabby, then it’s stiff,”—and she relinquished it, laying down across me, and contemplating it quite silently.
“Did you do that to the other gentleman?” I asked. “Oh! no, never,—I didn’t think about it,—only one on ’em stopped long,”—and she told me about all of their doings. She could never make out but seven, though she always asserted there were eight who had had her before me.
I did not like either cock-sucking or cunt-licking at that epoch, and stopped Kitty who was bent on stiffening it with her mouth. She had no idea however of giving me a pleasure that way, it was simply curiosity and novelty. Often she did the same thing, indeed always had a quarter of an hour at it.
I saw her about twice a week, sometimes more, it was all she could manage “in dodging her mother.” I gave her three and sixpence each time, which made her quite happy and contented, and it was a very economical pleasure to me. She learnt much from me, in six weeks blushed at nothing, and was impatient to be fucked. “Do that afterwards,” would she say if I dallied long in the preliminaries, then quietly, “Oh! ain’t it pleasure!” she added in an artless satisfied way. Then somehow she persuaded her mother that she might go out if fine for a little time in the afternoon, and she was let out occasionally when the mother was at home, but which rarely was the case; and then I saw the pretty lass almost daily, but always in the afternoon; and her impatience to have the pleasure of fucking became almost comical.
Chapter V
I questioned her many a time, and put together here consecutively what she said. She was as much pleased to gossip about it as I was.
She was the daughter of a carpenter, had been kept at home to help her mother, till six months previously to my meeting her, when growing restive, and I dare say her animal vigor inciting her to go forth into the world, she went into a situation at a fishmonger’s who wanted some girl to nurse a little child, his wife being ill.
I believed she had told me most things about herself from the time the doodle had first penetrated her: yet why had not such a big girl been put to earn her living? she said that her mother was always in the family way, or a child was ill, so she being the biggest helped at home.
But she had been in service, about all of which she told me one hot afternoon. Ice was then a luxury, they charged two pence extra for a bottle of gingerbeer iced. She was fond of gingerbeer, we had some iced with sherry, and lay on the bed drinking it as she told me her story bit by bit. This is an account of my doings, and not of tales told me by others, but I must tell her tale, for I believed every bit of it, and it is almost part of my own, and this is how it came out.
“If you never spent with a man till you did with me, you had frigged yourself.” “I never did till the gal at the fishmonger’s did it to me,—we slept together.” “Then you had been in service?” “Only two months, I went to mind a little child.”
The fishmonger was a little struggling tradesman, in a house with a shop on the ground floor, and a little back parlour, and kitchens, and a cellar below where they kept fish baskets.
Over the shop were two rooms, one was the fishmonger’s bed room, and two bed rooms above. The wife was confined to her bed, and her husband slept alone in the back room which was usually the female servant’s; so the servant was put into a bed on the top floor. This maid cooked, cleaned, did everything, and had an eye as well to the shop if her Mistress was ill, and when Master and his man were out; but she could not mind the child as well. The fishmonger asked the carpenter if he knew of a strong steady lass, the carpenter named his own girl, and Kitty went for grub, lodging, and one and six a week. She was to sleep with the maid on the top-floor over the rooms where Master and Mistress slept. The servant’s name was Betty.
The fishmonger drank. A young man named Jim went with him to market, and sometimes without him if he had been very drunk overnight. Jim opened the shop, harnessed the horse and cart, and every night when the Master went to bed, Jim went to the underground kitchen, opened a cupboard, pulled down something called a bed, and slept there.
Jim was up first, and to bed but last, could not go to bed till the maid-of-all-work was out of the kitchen. Jim pissed in the sink, and made his own bed every morning as soon as he got up, which was done by turning it up somehow into the cupboard, and then he called up his Master and the maid. The privy was in the yard.
Kitty took charge of the child, and the first night as she was going to bed and took her things off Betty said, “Where is your nightgown?” “I ain’t got none,” said Kitty, “I sleep in my shemmy.” Betty tossed up her head. Kitty cried. “Father’s a poor man,” said she, “but he’s respectable, and though I sleeps in my shemmy I am very clean, I washes all over every day,—look at my legs and my neck,—but with my first week’s wages I’ll buy a nightgown.”
“Never mind,” said Betty, “you are clean, and you’re fat
,—your dad gives you lots of grub,—don’t cry, I only said, ‘where’s your nightgown?’—Lord you are fat for your age!—how old did you say you were?—why what a big bum you’ve got for your age!”
Kitty had been staring at Betty, and the hair on the bottom of her belly. “She was so hairy,” said Kitty to me, “I had never seen a woman naked before, and the hair on her belly made me look.” “Say on her cunt Kitty.” “Well on her cunt,—such lots, and so black,—I had seen gals’ things, my cousins used to show me theirs, and I showed them mine to see how our hair was coming; but I did not think a woman could grow such a lot there.”
It was a cold night, the girl and the woman were in bed. “Come closer, we will be warmer.” Kitty got closer, then Bet began feeling Kitty. How smooth, how soft she was, how plump, and not quite fifteen?—what a bum,—why her thighs were quite large. “Oh! don’t mind I want to warm my hand, between your thighs, put your hand between mine,—there,—you’ve just a little hair coming on your thing,—feel mine, it’s like the hair on your head, isn’t it?—I am only twenty-five,—but when you are twenty you will have as much Kitty. Your hand is cold, put it between my thighs, we will warm each other there. What a nice little thing your cunt is,” said Betty feeling the little one’s.
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