by The Power of Mesmerism- A Highly Erotic Narrative of Voluptuous Facts
Q.—Now, Harry, when did you first touch a girl's thing?
A.—I suppose I was about twelve when that happened. My aunt Clara, a very beautiful young widow of twenty-three, who had just lost my uncle (her husband) in the terrible Clayton Tunnel accident, and I may here add that what hurt her sensitive feelings almost more than his loss was the fact that the gay young fellow had taken a girl on the sly with him to Brighton for the day, and you know it was on the return journey that the collision occurred. Well, her grief and thoughts of his conduct, she said, made her so nervous and low spirited that she begged my Mamma to allow little Harry, as she called me, to go and stay with her for a time as companion. Every morning she would come into my bedroom to awaken me with a loving kiss, pulling off the bed-clothes, and playing me all sorts of tricks to make me get up. On one occasion, feeling unusually tired, I begged she would let me lay only a few minutes longer, as I drew her beautiful face down to my lips and smothered her with kisses. I was almost uncovered at the moment, it was a bright May morning, and the glorious sun was flooding the apartment with his beams of light and warmth. "My darling boy," she said softly, "I have a slight headache, and will rest on the bed by your side a little while," throwing her arms around me, and nestling her soft cheeks against mine. I soon felt her hands wandering over every part of my body, but it was so nice that when I felt her touch my naked thigh, I felt a curious kind of alloverishness, and my little prick stood as stiff as a poker. At last she touched even that. My eyes were apparently closed, pretending to be in a doze, but I could see the blush that came into her cheeks, and felt her give a kind of shudder all over. She caressed my little cocky for a moment or two, which gave me a kind of longing for her to go on. I could see she was greatly agitated, but my own sense of pleasure prevented me thinking much about that. My heart seemed to go out to her in a gush of love, as I suddenly opened my eyes, and throwing my arms around her neck once more, kissed her again and again.
How her eyes sparkled, and she seemed to blush deeper than ever, but her soft hand never let go of the little treasure she had secured.
"Harry, my dear boy, is your little affair often like this? It is quite unnaturally hard," she asked me in a low, husky kind of whisper. "Perhaps you are ill, my dear, let me see," saying which she threw back the bed-clothes, and examined my privates, handling my stiff pintle very tenderly, as if she really thought there might be something the matter with me, and finished by kissing my cock and taking the poor thing in her mouth as she said it must be quite painful to bear. You may guess that the only effect of her endearments was to make my affair swell up bigger than I had ever known it, as well as putting me in a kind of flutter all over, in fact I can't describe how she made me feel.
The next night I had been asleep about a couple of hours when I was suddenly awakened by someone bringing a light into my room; it was Auntie Clara in her nightdress. "Harry," she said, "I feel so nervous, pray do come and sleep with me, I don't like to ask the servants, and you can slip back into your room in the morning."
I was too pleased to say no, and soon found myself in her bed nestling close to her, with my face between her soft bubbles. She at once asked me if my affair was stiff, and seemed astonished to find it again hard when she caressed it, as I told her it had been quite limp all day.
She kissed me again and again, telling me it proved I was getting to be a man. "But, Harry darling, you must never say a word about it. Would you like to be my little husband and always sleep with me?"
"Oh, Auntie, that would be delightful, would you marry me if I was a man?" I asked in reply.
"Yes, darling, and I will wait till you grow up, if you promise now to be my husband, and keep secret everything between us."
How we played together after I gave her my solemn promise. She let me feel her all over, got out of bed, lighted three or four candles, and stripped herself quite naked for me to see what she was like. She made me kiss her lovely cunt, all covered and shaded by dark chestnut hair as it was, and assured me I should soon also have hair round the roots of my cock, then she showed me how to be a husband to her, and made me work my little cock in her till she almost drowned it in her spendings.
So you see I have been engaged to be married ever since then, and every time we have a chance Aunt Clara accords me all the rights of a husband. She says we have only to wait a year or two now, as she has a handsome income, enough for us both if my parents object.
This was the end of the séance, the subjects were all put in order and restored to consciousness, and the Doctor quietly whispered to Mr. and Mrs. Etheridge that he should like to bring his two nieces after the Sunday evening service, to be mesmerized again and have their maidenheads taken, it would be such a treat to see it done.
It is not necessary to weary the reader by full details of how Frank and Harry did this for them, to complete the satisfaction of their reverend uncle, who again enjoyed the delights of being sandwiched between his host and hostess, and helped them to realise every erotic imagination of their hearts.
By way of conclusion it will perhaps be interesting to relate the experiences of a young lady (none other than Minette) who paid a visit to this charming family in later days.
The account is taken from a letter sent to a gentleman friend, to whom she was much attached at the time.
One day we were all taken into what I imagined to be the drawing room, but afterwards ascertained it was a place strictly confined to the private use of the family and that but one confidential servant was ever allowed to enter it, for the purpose of cleaning, dusting, and keeping it in order. The walls were hung with pictures of the most exciting character, and in the centre of the room was a huge bed, covered with crimson velvet and stuffed with down, but without any of the ordinary bed-clothing, instead there were a quantity of cushions variously shaped and also covered with velvet. Some of these were fitted with concealed dildoes, so that when pressed between the thighs the most delightful frigging could be produced. Some were fitted with artificial cunts for the use of gentlemen, if they felt so inclined. There were flogging machines of every description, and various articles of furniture for supporting the body in peculiar positions which might be required while being fucked, sucked, or buggered.
The door was no sooner closed than I was seized by Frank and his mother and tumbled on the bed, where they rummaged every part of my body, bottom-hole, cunt, and bubbies, and at last forced one of the dildo-cushions between my thighs and compelled me to frig myself upon it, while they pulled up my clothes and slapped my poor arse for some minutes without mercy, laughing and enjoying my screams as my tender rump plunged up and down in exquisite pain.
Ethel was helping them by sitting on my shoulders so that I was quite powerless, but when they presently desisted from that cruel slapping and I felt tongue, finger, or prick alternately forced up my bottom, it was delicious—the heat of the previous infliction making me feel so lecherous that the spunk actually spurted from my quim as I wriggled myself up and down on the dildo.
Ethel I found also (as soon as the paroxysm of spending had allayed my feelings a little, and I was allowed to look around) was sucking her father's prick, whilst he was frigging her.
Next, the servant Maud entered the room and was immediately stripped to the skin and bound to a flogging machine, where they birched her deliciously (at least it looked so to me, although she screamed and writhed about in pain, and begged for mercy as the tears streamed down her face), till she was on the verge of spending. She was then left to suffer the agonies of unsatisfied desire, while we enacted all the most lascivious things we could think of in her sight.
I took Mr. Etheridge's prick and frigged it between my bubbies, whilst he sucked the prick of his son.
We then tickled the girl's inflamed cunt with stinging nettles, which increased her excitement till she seemed mad with erotic delirium, and Mr. Etheridge, to my horror, proposed that we should injure her as a finish to our orgy for that evening.
Mr. Ethe
ridge drove his tremendously inflamed prick into her bottom-hole, the position in which she was suspended making the operation awfully painful. Frank fucked the poor girl in the cunt. Mrs. Etheridge and Ethel, with savage pleasure, each sucked and bit the victim's nipples, causing her to writhe and scream in agony. The two fuckers were at the same time frigging mother and daughter, whilst they passed the sensation on to me by also manipulating my cunt and bottom.
Suddenly I heard a yell of agony, and found that Frank, just in the moment of spending, had stabbed the girl with a small dagger which he had concealed in his hand.
We all spent together with mingled cries of lust and delight, the convulsive movements of the suffering girl adding immensely to the intensity of this voluptuous emission.
However, our victim was not seriously hurt. She was convalescent in a week's time, but was ultimately murdered, while in the act of spending, by a voluptuary with whom she afterwards lived.
Before my visit terminated there was another orgy, in which Harry Mortimer introduced his Aunt Clara to this amiable family circle. Mesmerism was now quite unnecessary, Harry being as willing a votary to the worship of Priapus as could possibly be desired by his erotic friends.
The principal scene of the evening was a group in which the beautiful Aunt Clara rode a St. George upon Mr. Etheridge, had Harry in her bottom-hole, Frank's prick in her mouth, her two hands frigging Mrs. Etheridge and Ethel as they stood by the side of the couch, whilst your chère amie, not to be left out of the game, was behind Harry, my left hand passed round his loins, caressing his fine prick and balls as it worked in and out of her beautiful brown bumhole, whilst my right forefinger postilioned him behind.
You must imagine the excitement of this group so voluptuously arranged; it requires to be engaged in such a scene to fully appreciate all its heavenly delights—description is simply impossible!
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