women “cock-teasers”. We shall have rare sport-I can tell you that'.
I murmured something, but I know not what. I am being drawn into a whirlpool now. I know not whether to go on Friday or not. I may see myself in Claudia. Perhaps that's what I fear.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sylvia's Day-Book
Papa is acting very strangely. Perhaps it is because he misses Mama, but I am not sure of that. He never mentions her to me, though asked a little dolefully whether I would go to Liverpool at Christmas. Such a problem that is for me! I do not think he likes my Aunties very much, but I do. Perhaps I shouldn't. They are very naughty with me sometimes, and especially in bed, but now that I am older I can be naughty, Aunty Muriel says. She told me that most ladies are, but they do not always show it to the world. One cannot always tell-that is the fun of it, she says. When they rub their things to mine, it feels so nice. I should not write that down, perhaps. I am sure Mama was never naughty, though.
Rose told me a most awful, naughty thing. She says that when she put Papa's napkin across his lap, she felt his thing and it was stiff! I did not tell her that he kissed me in the cupboard and that I felt it, too. Besides, it was probably only a big key. Aunty Jane asked me if he felt my bottom in the dark. I said, 'Oh no, of course not', but I don't remember now. It was too quick. I did not mind him kissing me. I used to sit upon his lap, but now he doesn't seem to like me doing that. I put black stockings on last night. I have new garters, too, and they are pink.
Aunt Jane said something rude about my pony. I never thought before of looking there. It is a very big one, though, and gets all leathery sometimes. 'It is Nature, do not be afraid of it', they said. The saddle rubs me in- between my legs and makes me feel all hot sometimes. Aunty Muriel says that is good for me and that I should keep my bottom moving back and forth like when she puts her tongue there underneath. Rose was in bed with them last night. I listened and I heard her moans. I am glad that she is naughty, just like me. I do not feel so bad about it now.
Phillip's Day-Book
There is no escape for me in my own house. Perhaps there never was-perhaps I am a prisoner in myself. There is both mockery and affection here which tosses me this way and that. I am pursued, entrapped, and know not where to turn, and spend much time upon my study couch in dismal thought while laughter sounds beyond, bites at my mind and makes me feel more churlish than I know myself to be. My writing has ceased. Even to me my manuscript appears more wooden that I thought it once to be. I read it no longer through my own, discerning eyes, but horridly through those of Muriel and Jane who tempt me frequently to write that which I will not do.
“Women have limbs, my dear, have lips. Portray them as they are and not as dummies such as may be seen in a dressmaker's window', I am told.
I loathe myself that I argue with them on this score, but silence cannot always be maintained. They have their tricks of making me reply by questions that appear at the first speaking innocent, and yet in truth are quite insidious.
'Can you not describe a woman's lips?', asked Jane. At first I would not reply, but upon her asking me again I replied in irritation that of course I could. Such is the writer's art, I said.
'Indeed? Describe mine, then, or Muriel's-or Sylvia's even. All lustrous, velvety and warm-a touch of honeyed moisture here and there. You see-I have no art with words such as you claim to have, yet I can say such as you do not write. As to a woman's thighs…'
'Please stop! I will not write of immoralities', I said as bleakly as I could.
The hour was late. She wore a peignoir. Through its folds-its misty folds, if she would have it so-I discerned that she wore little else save for her stockings and a pink chemise. With each movement of her legs I saw that which a gentleman should never see-that blur of sinful dark between her thighs. Her bosom, too, was almost visible.
'You are in purdah, Phillip. Some females should be, but males should not'.
So speaking, she moved round behind my back, for upon her entrance I had got up from the couch and taken a plain chair. In the moment that she became all but invisible, something dropped down about my face and wound itself about my neck, half throttling me. It was the silk cord from her peignoir. Frantically I strove to free it from my neck, begging her to cease this foolish game. My fingers tried to hook behind it, but could not.
'For heaven's sake, I cannot breathe', I gasped. The chair being hollow at the back, she pressed her knee through into me. At the same moment, Muriel entered, closed the door and advanced upon me. She, too, wore a peignoir and, beneath, had nothing on save for her gartered stockings and a pair of buttoned boots that reached up to her knees. My eyes bulged at the wicked sight of her. Once more I tried to claw the cord away. The pressure of Jane's knee was fearful in my back, and Muriel held a long cord in her hand.
In a flash, I was their prisoner, for Muriel swiftly knelt and tied my legs against those of the chair. O perfidy, O wretchedness! She knew too well I could not kick a woman thus, nor even beat her with my hands, much as I wished to. Vainly I strove, not using violence such as they, but all in vain. Jane twisted the cord with one hand and with her other seized my hair-I strangulated, gasping, helpless in their hands.
No, no-I will not write of this-a deed so terrible, so lewd. May the heavens fall upon them for their wickedness. I was left weak and stunned by that foul act that brought me to a pitch of miserable submission to their wills. My hands tremble even now to think of it.
Jane's Day-Book
What a splendid penis Phillip has! The dear, poor idiot, he tried to hide his pleasure at the last, but could not, fell to sobbing like a boy while Muriel drew on his reservoirs and sucked his sperm with her naughty quim. Had she so not exhausted him, I would have taken my toll, too. The chair bumped, though. I feared that Sylvia would wake. Besides, the floorboards creak too much in Phillip's study. We must not do it there again.
How wildly did he shake his head (or try to!) when Muriel cast her peignoir off and opened up his trouser buttons, nurturing his tool until it stood up stiff and ready for the game, the knob all purplish and sleek and swollen such as a healthy, eager female loves to see. The faint blue veins stood proud around the stem.
'And now, my love…', said Muriel. His legs being together, she was able to straddle him while standing up still and let her titties swing across his face, reaching beneath to fondle and position his stiff tool beneath the rolled lips underneath her bush.
Ah, how he gurgled, whined and whimpered when she did! Not hurrying, she then caressed his balls which were slightly squashed and so appealingly looked even bigger than they are, the skin as equally polished in that posture as his knob.
'In a moment, in a moment Phillip', Muriel said, as though he too were eager for the fray. So clever she can be sometimes in saying such-the gentle voice, the luring touch. 'Twas she in truth who first seduced dear Uncle Reggie and then took me upon the bed with them.
'No!', Phillip managed to moan when at the last the pinky-purplish lips of Muriel's love-slit swallowed up his knob. Her eyes half closed, knees trembled, at that naughty and exquisite contact. Still she took her time, though, and sank very slowly down until his prick was sheathed and her bottom settled on his knees.
'Oh, it is nice!', she murmured. I could feel her head and loins a-swim as mine would have then been, and knew exactly how her cunny squeezed upon his embedded penis.
I had loosened the cord by then around his neck and laid my hands upon his shoulders, bent and kissed my sister on the lips. Our tongues toyed. Both her arms enfolded him and thus could hold his pinned.
'My god, my god!', he moaned-the foolish man who thus was led into such a Paradise!
'Give me a good fuck, Phillip, for you know you want to', Muriel breathed. Her hips worked gently up and down. I saw-just saw-his cock emerge and then sink up again into the clinging enclosure of her folds, his foolish face strained far away from hers.
'Do not hold him any longer, Jane. I will pump him; I will make him come', she said. Her voice was strong. She meant to milk him deeply, and she did. So hapless was he, though, and so excited (though he would deny that to the last, I'm sure) that he came too soon for her- before she even came herself.-'Oh, you fool, you fool!', she
