Go into the tent, miss and don’t presume to come out until I let you! I’ll give you a whipping miss! Go in, I tell you!”
Mabel looked at me, and, as she turned to obey, laughing, acted as though she had a baby in her arms which she was giving suck to. Her mother did not see it, but I did and was amused as well as a little, a very little, shocked, of course. “It is all this horrible India!” cried Mrs. Selwyn to me. “Fanny, dear, is not that your Papa coming back? Get up and see, that’s a dear girl”
“It is all this horrid India,” repeated Mrs. Selwyn. “Children learn about things which girls sixteen and seventeen know nothing of at home.”
“Yes,” I said, “I believe that’s it, Mrs. Selwyn, but I always think it best not to appear to notice that they do; it should be the object of everybody to try and keep impure thoughts out of young persons’ minds, but especially out of those of girls.”
“Ah! Captain Devereaux! That is why I like you so much. I feel I can trust my girls with you anywhere, and at any time. When your dear wife comes I shall tell her so too.”
Oh! my Venus! My blessed, blessed Venus! And yet all chance of fucking Fanny destroyed just when it was so feasible. Loved by Fanny, trusted by her mother! I should have had every chance but now my Louie coming would send all my lovely castles in the air tumbling to the ground.
“Yes,” continued Mrs. Selwyn, “it is wonderful how precocious children become in India, both in mind and body. Now look at that naughty Mabel. She is not much more than twelve years old, and, as you see, I still keep her in short frocks to let her remember that she is not grown up yet. But dear Captain Devereaux, for all that Mabel is grown up, and could marry tomorrow, and get children as fast as could be. You would be surprised if you were to see her in her bath. Of course you are a married man, so I can speak to you about things if you were a bachelor I could not, so I can tell you that Mabel has breasts like a woman, thighs like an unmarried woman, and hair—hem! ahem! what was I saying? Oh! yes, she is fully developed.”
I could hardly help laughing at the slip she had so nearly made when she mentioned “hair,” but I refrained, for the thought of that hair around the pretty little cunt, which I had now both seen and felt, entered my mind, and I sighed to think that probably my prick would never gain entrance there, nor indeed that darling one, for which my whole body craved, that between lovely Fanny’s thighs.
“Well! Mrs. Selwyn,” I said, “the only thing for it is to do as I say. Try and not notice anything which is not too openly said and done in the way of precociousness, speaking sexually; and try to lead the youthful mind into another channel. I promise you I will try and do my best to second you.”
“Ah! my dear Captain Devereaux, how good, how good you are!” And the good lady let some tears run down her cheeks. Positively I felt an awful beast. For I had not at all intended to lead the girls themselves into any other channel than that which would the most speedily bring my prick slick into their charming cunts.
But something checked me. Perhaps Venus herself made my reach to those delicious charms a little more difficult, in order to by that painful climb I might more safely harbor in the forest shaded grottos when I got them.
At first I got, as it were, a regular fit of obstinacy. My Louie was coming out. Her coming must, according to all rule of law, put an end, a complete end, to any schemes I might have of fucking any girls but I was all the more determined that I would fuck them all the same, and so I fell to work to prove to mine and to Louie herself, in order that I might by profound study of her ways and thoughts find that loophole through which I might escape from her observation, and keep Fanny safe too, when I should (as I swore I would), fuck her. But alas! the more I thought of Louie, the more prominently did all her sweetness of character and her passionate love of me come before me. Although a man of the most intense passions, I am not altogether depraved, and I could not but recognize what a cruel, cruel thing it would be to betray this darling wife of mine. It would kill her, I thought, should she discover it. Doubt was the last thing she had ever had of me. She had become part and parcel of me.
Never yet had I understood her, and so sweet and pleasant was she that, even after the conventional honeymoon, after that conventional glimpse of the Christian and Mohammedan heaven rolled into one, after I had gone back to the daily work and worry, she was just the same to me. By day she was my second self, helping me, cheering me, never in the way, and I never felt happy after she left me until she had come back again. At night she was no longer my wife. Not a bit of it. She was my love! She was Venus and all her company of brilliant nymphs, in one! No woman could have endeavored more than she did to give me the in tensest pleasure when I reveled between her thighs, nor do I remember any woman who seemed to enjoy being fucked by me more than my Louie did. Oh! Lizzie Wilson! Lizzie Wilson! What a pity it was I ever had you! But for that I should have been overjoyed at my Louie’s coming to me, but alas! Lizzie’s delightful cunt had brought before all that old burning love of change which had made me a cunt hunter before I was married.
I must leave my sympathizing readers to realize the contending passions which tore me. There were now dancing before me two sweet, sweet cunts—Louie’s and Fanny’s. Mabel’s did not count. I had the most intense desire to taste Fanny, I felt so sure it would be so superb to fuck the girl on account of her passionate temperament. I had the liveliest recollection of my Louie’s and the more I recalled it to mind, the more I loved the thought of it, and the stiffer it made my prick to stand.
At last a thought struck me—should I be a fool, and like the dog in the fable lose both of these sweet cunts, by leaving my firm hold on the one to try a new pleasure. I came to the conclusion that so long as Louie was with me any such act would result in dismal loss and failure, and so, on the lowest ground, I made up my mind to forego the attack upon Fanny.
Man is a funny animal. Like the fox and the grapes he, if he does not actually disparage the results of his labors, likes to give himself a good and high sounding reason for ceasing to strive for what he knows he cannot get. Little by little, in the course of time, I tried at first and succeeded at last, in persuading myself that I had nearly sinned, but that it was my love of Louie, and not the fear of her finding me out, that made me give up the idea of fucking Fanny Selwyn. In fact, I was virtuous! Had been sorely tempted by vice, had nearly succumbed, but had finally been saved by virtue!
What helped me to attain this degree of spiritual excellence was the repetition of a number of false alarms. I had fully expected on arrival at Fackabad, to have found Louie there, or a letter announcing her arrival at Bombay, whereas, what I did find was a letter, written in the greatest despondency, saying that on application to the agents of the P. & O. she was told that there would be no room for her until the third steamer after the one she had intended going by. Sure that she was coming, I behaved according, though I kept as much out of Fanny’s way as I could without being downright rude. Even Mrs. Selwyn complained of my making myself such a stranger. The Colonel did not mind, because Mrs. Soubratie satisfied his every want regularly, I having taken a bungalow just at the back of the Selwyn’s, so making it very handy for the poor Colonel when he felt cunt hungry, which was very often. But Fanny was awfully offended with me. There was no deceiving her. She knew quite well what it meant, and that I was simply sacrificing her happiness to the exigencies of the case. Yet at times when I was unavoidably thrown into her society more closely than at others, I could not so well preserve the gravity of my demeanor as to prevent her seeing it. I admired her, and what a real pleasure it was for me to be with her. Once indeed she said to me, “Captain Devereaux, once upon a time I thought you the wisest man I ever knew.”
“And what do you think me now, Miss Selwyn?”
“A fool!” said she with emphasis. Jumping up, she walked away. with her head in the air and in the most disdainful manner.
After that I thought that th
e sooner Louie came the better. If once a woman despises a man, it is a poor chance he has of ever having her.
But it seemed to me that there would never be a chance of poor Louie’s coming. By some extraordinary error on somebody’s part she missed the steamer and then came a catastrophe which caused a silence of two mails, and nearly, indeed, ended her life. I think what I felt most was Fanny Selwyn’s apparent nonchalance when she heard that Louie’s life was in great danger. At one time she would have found it difficult to avoid expressing openly her joy at such a catastrophe, for if Louie died, she would (she was sure of it) marry me, but now she coldly hoped that poor Mrs. Devereaux might recover. The accident which so nearly put an end to poor Louie, very nearly put an end to my offspring also. Our little baby girl playing at the top of the stairs very nearly tumbled down them. Louie, who was watching her sprang to help her, and, in doing so, tripped and not only fell, but precipitated herself and baby down the whole flight. Fortunately the child was not seriously injured, but poor Louie, now being in the family way, was terribly hurt. The result was a premature confinement, and the delivery of a dead boy, and the hovering between life and death for some weeks. My anxiety was fearful. Poor Mrs. Selwyn did all she could to comfort me. All the family, even Mabel, who had developed into a very naughty girl, forever talking double entente since I had tickled her cunnie at Nowshera, showed their sympathy with me, except Fanny, who openly said that I did not deserve a good wife, and so God was taking mine from me. I can tell you that there was much more hate than love between us at that time. Fortunately it was, however, only skin deep. Fanny and I were both deceiving ourselves. She imagined that she detested me as much as she had loved me before, and I tried to think that, after all, she was by no means as desirable as I had first thought, and that if I had the chance now I would not fuck her.
So days and days rolled by. There was an assumed truce between us, and things might have gone on so until, in the course of time, Fanny and I should have been separated in the natural course of events, but all was in the hands of Venus who smiled at our puny efforts to guide our own course. The time for the sacrifice had arrived, the veil of Fanny’s maidenhead was doomed to destruction, and in the shrine of her virgin cunt, was to be set up that prick which had once been the God of her ardent devotion. Yes, Fanny Selwyn with joy opened her thighs to me, and I will now tell you how it all came about.
Fackabad is a large station. A European and a native regiment are always quartered there, with a battery of artillery and a squadron of native cavalry, there was plenty of civilians also, so that we had some ‘very good society in the place. In this way it was very different to Cherat, where there were no civilians, and only our regiment, and the details of others. At Fackabad we had a judge, a deputy commissioner, a civil doctor, a civil engineer and a number of others of civilians, besides a Roman Catholic Padre, a Church of England Padre, a Presbyterian Minister and others and above these male exhorters who lived pure and simple and blameless lives, we had a number of very charming youthful ladies known as the Zenana mission, one of the fair female missionaries being so beautifully furnished with those charms of face and person that she raised desire, far more carnal than spiritual, in the minds of those mundane inhabitants of the cantonment, who like myself worshipped the Creator in his creatures.
Lawn tennis, polo and cricket occupied the quiet ones, and all were good, in the beautiful evenings when the cool shades made exercise delightful, and even necessary, for it can be very cool from the end of November to the beginning of March in the northern part of India, and we soldiers had plenty of parades, with drills both morning and evening, except on Thursdays and Sundays, days always devoted to rest and ease in that country. If we had been idle at Cherat we made up for it now at Fackabad, and there were not a few who welcomed the coming hot weather, hot winds, hot nights, hot days, for the sake of the nominal parades and the minimum amount of work, for man is by nature an idle animal, when his pleasures are not concerned.
Hence my patient readers can readily understand that as the houses of the cantonment spread over a very considerable space, and our work lay in very different directions, Lavie and I did not meet as often as we used to at Cherat. We saw one another at Mess in the’ evenings, and would say a few words to one another, but as I was never much addicted to staying longer than to smoke a cigarette after dinner, I really saw very little of my once constant companion. I was too glad to go home, and to take off my uniform, and, clad in loose clothes, to sit in my long arm chair and smoke and read at my ease, to care to stay late after Mess.—Besides I was sore at heart. I was in great anxiety about poor Louie after her accident and I could not but recognize that, so far as Fanny Selwyn was concerned, the course of true love did not only not run at all smooth, but that to all appearances, the frail bark in which I had sailed down that current had got stranded, if it was not altogether wrecked. I felt defeated, and defeated through my own fears, and I felt somewhat degraded in her eyes, in the eyes of the girl who had almost invited me to fuck her. I felt that she despised me, and my want of that courage which is so grateful to the girl full of desire and passion. But, instead of trying to regain my lost footing in her esteem, I had quite come to the conclusion that I must give up all idea of Fanny, that the enterprise I was once so naturally embarked upon had been providentially nipped in the bud, and that to endeavor to again embark upon it would be to tempt providence to pour down the vials of its wrath upon my foolish head. But I was unhappy all the same. I did not like it.
Venus behind her ambrosial clouds, naked, loving, beautiful, smiled as she read my heart.
I might have kept up my acquaintance more vigorously with the Selwyns but for Mabel. That little girl, ever since I had tickled her cunnie at Nowshera, evidently looked forward to be fucked by me very soon, and she was more than daring whenever I visited her family. She plagued beyond bearing. Her delight was by word, look or gesture, to make my prick stand, no matter whether her mother was standing beside, and my embarrassment was simply enormous. Pretending to consider herself as a mere child, she would, in spite of her mother’s too feeble chidings, seat herself on my lap, and, hiding her hand under her, feel for and clutch my infernal fool of a prick, which would stand furiously for her though I wished it cut off at such moments. If I happened to be spending an evening at her father’s house, and to be engaged in a game of chess with one of the two girls, Mabel would find her opportunity, slip unnoticed under the table, crawl to my knees, and with her nimble fingers, unbutton my trousers, and putting in her little exciting hand take possession of all she found there. I should have laughed at it only that I was terrified lest this very forward play might be discovered, I had to sit tight up against the table, and do my best to seem unconcerned, whilst Mabel’s moving hand was precious nearly making me spend! A catastrophe, I am thankful to say, she never quite succeeded in bringing about. I took my opportunities to beg and implore her to be more careful of herself and me, and her reply would be to toss up her short frocks, and a complete exposure of her lovely thighs, downy motte, and sweet young cunt, which she would insist on my feeling, and which she would insist I on my feeling, and which I was too weak to resist doing. It was the torture of Tantalus I was called upon to endure, and the consequence was as much enforced absence as I could keep from the Colonel’s house, and the consequent feeling on Fanny’s side that my object was to avoid her. I could not tell Fanny the truth, for she would have been madder than ever, to have heard that I had felt Mabel’s cunt, for the first time, immediately after she had told me of the wonderful and delicious dream she had had of my fucking her at Nowshera.
The month of March had arrived, the sun was daily gaining power, which before the end of the month would be tremendous. This is the season when fruit is most abundant in Northern India, and I daily feasted on figs, peaches, grapes, and even strawberries. The letters I had lately deceived had been of a more cheerful character, and you know what it is to be relieved of such kill
ing anxieties.
One morning at the beginning of March I came home from parade, and whilst drinking my tea and eating my chotah-hazry of fruit and bread and butter, the postman came and handed me a letter addressed to me by the darling Louie herself. It brought a joy not to be expressed in spoken or written words to me. That kind of joy which makes one clasp one’s hands and look up to try and pierce the clouds for the sight of that God to whom one’s heart bursts to offer up praise and thanksgiving. I was lifted out of myself. I walked up and down the verandah in an ecstasy of joy. I even leaped and jumped. Louie was safe, quite safe! Up! Able to be about! Able to sit in her arm chair and do a little needle work and read a book! And write a letter! Here was the very proof of it! In this darling letter written to me by my own darling wife. Ah! but that every cloud has its silver lining, so does every rose have its thorn. For though really convalescent, though her doctor assured her that no permanent injury had been done to her, he had told her that on no account must she go to a hot climate, and on doubly no account was she to sleep with her husband, if he came home, for though fucking, though so sweetly, so gloriously, so entrancingly genial, was the last thing she should do for at least two long years to come! Else he would not be responsible for her complete cure, and immunity from danger. He even warned her that fucking might result, if soon indulged in, in pain and anything but pleasure, and he said that as I was “providentially” in India, it was well to allow me to remain where I was, out of the way of doing her any harm.
Poor Louie! She told me that the tears were rolling down her cheeks as she wrote the sentence of the banishment of my prick from her longing, really longing cunt, but she said, “It is only for a short season, though two years seems a long time to young people like us, my beloved, darling husband Charlie! Still, just fancy what grief and utter desolation it would be, if our coming together too soon would result in what the doctor threatens, the complete death of all that lovely love which made our marriage bed so supremely delightful to both of us! Oh! I love my Charlie, and I desire the staff of his manhood, that splendid, splendid “prick” as you have taught me to call it—too, much too well, to like to think of endangering all the happiness and delight I can give him, and all the rapture and heaven he can give me. No! I will stay at home and be a nun, and who can tell but that when I may be, as it were, a new bride for my darling husband to enjoy. Without that fearful shyness which to some degree marred the joy I experienced when he first entered the virgin territory of which he, and he alone, is Lord and Master!”
Erotic Classics II Page 158
