The most awful thing was that I thought I glimpsed Papa looking from his window down on us, but he could not, of course, or he would have been awfully stern.
Afterwards I whispered to Aunt Jane that I thought I had seen him at his window, and she laughed and said that he liked looking at nice views. I think that was really horrid of her, yet she makes me laugh as well, so I do not think she meant it wickedly. She just says things that come into her head.
Daisy has been spanked by her Papa. She told me so. I wonder what it feels like to do that? I shouldn't think such things and yet I do. She said he made her take her drawers off, too. I can't imagine Papa ever doing that. I would blush ever so much, I'm sure. I told Daisy so. She said she expected he would like to, but I shushed her up. I told her that it wasn't true and that I wouldn't speak to her again for ten whole minutes. She said she didn't care, but waited that whole time for me to speak again!
Jane's Day-Book
Muriel has confided in me (after many hesitations, I believe) as to what passed between herself and Roger. I am not sure that she has told me all, but clearly he is both vigourous and brash, and not to say adventurous. I prefer, as she does, more spontaneous events than was suggested in his conversation with her-if it can be called such! So does she, I know. Moreover, we have always marked out our own destinies in amourous affairs. 'I believe I am a little in love with him', she said. What nonsense! She is almost of that 'certain age', but of course I did not tell her that. He is certainly not to be made a 'free gift' of dear Sylvia who needs more tutoring yet, in any case. His advice about Phillip, though, was sound, though I am quite sure he merely believes that we have simply bullied our dear brother.
I am positive that Phillip is not yet fully aware that he wishes to be obedient to us. I found his drawers very patchy last night and asked him what he had been doing. He would not say. There is a look of shyness in his eyes when he is called a 'naughty boy' and he secretly likes to be called such, I think. I said to him that he must pay a penance for toying with himself (the which he vehemently denied) and must kneel and kiss my feet, my knees, my thighs.
After much hesitation he obeyed. I only have to mention Sylvia to him! His face worked slowly up beneath my skirt, whereat-he having reached my thighs-I clamped him tightly in-between and made his ears to burn, which also made him groan. What a delicious feeling to hold a humbled male thus-even my own brother, I confess!
After two minutes or so of clamping him, I told him he might lick, but bent and held his hair lest he might struggle. Thereat I opened my legs wider and squashed my pussy down upon his mouth. He spluttered much, but finally acceded to my wish. Fortunately, Muriel did not interrupt. I held my legs straight and bent myself back a little, loosed his hair, and enjoyed his doglike licking thoroughly until I creamed his lips and tongue, made him stand up and lick his lips, which he did, much shamefaced.
His cock was very stiff after that exercise. I avoided touching it-felt that was best. I told him to go to bed and made my exit then. He looked forlorn and-for the first time-almost pleaded with his eyes for 'fond attention'. But he must learn: it is the only way. I who have been under men who ruffled me so much and often told me what to do am pleased that I can conquer one in turn! It is an utterly new experience. Muriel says it was her idea, but it was I who put the leash around dear Phillip first.
We had Rose in bed with us last night-I at her bouncy bottom while Muriel attended to her quim. After a few minutes of attention, she was very eager to have more and tongued us dutifully afterwards.
Deirdre's Day-Book
There is nothing for me but to go to Eveline and tell her what has passed, and which I hesitate to put to paper- but to leave blank pages now would only irritate me much in years to come, veiling my weakness, as I would be bound to think. I have no one else to confide in now but Eveline.
Richard brought home a friend of his-a youth of his own age, good looking and of good appearance. I judged him thus to be a nice young gentleman. Ah, how appearances deceive!
Richard asked me if his friend might stay the night, and I agreed. Amy retired to bed at ten. I believe she was taken with Jeremy who has an undoubted outward charm, but since I cannot tell her what has passed, I cannot warn her. Such is the web we weave, as the Bard said. But in truth I must castigate myself for having acted foolishly. 'Entertained' as I felt myself to be by the engaging chatter of Richard and his friend, I permitted myself too much indulgence both in wine and relaxation, and was scarcely aware of passing time.
At my age, of course, it is all too easy to imagine oneself as being able to bridge the gap between maturity and youth and to fancy oneself as being less than one's years, particularly when one is being lightly flattered, as I found myself to be by Jeremy who took upon himself the filling of our glasses-I having loosely given permission thereto, and the which I now regret. I was prettier than his own Mama, said he, at which I told him he should not say that, though even so (as I am sure all women do) accepted it as a compliment.
Our voices were hushed, for the hour was late. Several times I made to stir myself and rise but was seized by that torpor of languorousness that has too often been my undoing.
In providing me with a fifth or sixth glass (for I had lost count), Jeremy made so bold as to accommodate himself beside me on the chaise longue while Richard intimated his own devotion by settling himself at my feet. The conversation being but light (and often foolishly skittish on my part), I know not what we were discoursing on when Richard suddenly said, 'He wishes to kiss you, Mama', and I replying 'What?' rather than to offer an offhand reply, as I feel certain I would better to have done.
Indeed, I found myself endeavouring to gather further words which certainly evolved in my head but never appeared on the very lips that the wanton youth then attempted with his own. I confess that in the surprise of the moment-for the action followed within seconds of Richard's pronouncement-I made no move to evade the unbidden kiss that was one of undoubted, would-be passion. I recall uttering a small choking sound of surprise, but by then Jeremy's mouth was all over my own, the while- to my extreme amazement-Richard (being, as I have said in an inferior position on the floor close to my knees) moved his hands up beneath my skirt and commenced caressing my legs.
So feared was I that Jeremy would notice this rude gesture, that I pressed both away hastily, though this did not prevent Richard's friend from raining further tempestuous kisses on my averted neck.
I am not one given to great displays of temper. Even when in great discord with Phillip, I rarely raised my voice, but spoke coldly and quietly. In this particular circumstance, however, I blustered out some protest (though not in a common manner) and endeavoured both to show dismay and yet to try to make light of it at the same time, saying-no doubt feebly what a foolish boy Jeremy was. At the same time, my head was swirling somewhat with all the wine we had absorbed, which circumstance I can only extend as a frail excuse for the roguish pair as well.
I must to bed, I said, not wishing to confess even to myself that Jeremy had passed his hand across my breasts while kissing me, for I could not bring myself to say that outwardly.
'Mama, please stay and talk with us', Richard pleaded, but I would have none of that, merely saying that such foolishness was not proper and that it was time we all retired.
Thereupon I rose, settled my gown, and departed- leaving the two, as I thought, in a state of embarrassed, if not shamed, confusion. Such is the wilful simplicity of the human mind, that-having entered the hall and hearing them whispering-I assumed them to be exchanging regrets and even arguments over what had passed. Reaching my room, I lit a cigarette and threw myself on my back on the bed while uncaringly casting ash upon the floor. That small detail comforts me for in retrospect it at least indicates to me what a carelessly foolish state of mind I was in, which is to say that I had not let anger overcome me as it should have done. I am weak. I am prone to make excuses for others. How else could I have endured a marriage as fruitless in responsive desire as I did?
Were I to search my soul, I would say that I am also given to believing that others are as I myself am. Therein, however, lies a betraying irony in the light of what was to occur.
I know not how to frame these passages, and yet would be a coward if I did not. Extinguishing the cigarette, half-smoked, I rid myself of my dress, my drawers and my chemise and-being naked to my waist corset and stockings-brushed my hair, though more in absent-mindedness than otherwise and conscious that my steps were not entirely steady. The floor itself appeared to waver underneath my feet, and yet I felt in no mood then for sleep, was restless, knew my cunny to be tingling just a little with desire, though I believe that normal in a woman such as I-which is not to denigrate myself, I trust.
My mind was mazed. Do I excuse myself? Perhaps I do. The door opened and I made to turn about. Before I could do so it had closed again, and there to my considerable dismay, astonishment-or call it what one will- were
