My Secret Life (74 page)

One evening being unusually communicative, she told that she had a friend who came to her rooms at times, and she procured a man to bugger him. When he had had that operation performed, his prick would stand, and he could fuck her and spend. — Nothing else that could be done had that effect; masturbation, suction, flagellation all were useless. — Altho sometimes he shagged Camille after the irritation of his fundament had produced an erection, he preferred being frigged whilst the other man was coupled with him.
—
It was “vilaine, cochonnerie la plus sale,” she said. — “Mais que voulez vous.” — “He pay me sometime five — ten pounds sometime. — When I came back to England, he buy me half my furniture. — He send Bordeaux, I cannot such buy — you shall taste. He is good for me and I do what he likes.” — Then she fetched a bottle of splendid Château Margaux which he had given her. She had a case of it. — Camille never drank spirits, and didn’t care so much about champagne. — I used to take her Claret at times, it was what she habitually drank at her meals.

Then I told her what I had done with the man. She would not at first believe it. — “Fi donc — pas vrai — un beau garçon comme vous.” — But she added, “It was curiosity, it is not your taste
—
bien sur
—
yet why not if you like
—
it is for you and him to decide, it concern no one else.”

[A paragraph of my original manuscript, without abbreviation or correction, and just as it was then written is retained here. — It is a clue to my mental condition at that date, and a good introduction to the episode which follows. — An explanation of my tastes.]

My tastes seem for some time past to have been much changed, to be gradually inclining to abnormal pleasures. — Have I seen and done enough with — am I getting tired of common place sensualities — am I on the road to a sensual abyss? — Lustful suggestions come to me more frequently from strumpets, or so it seems to me. — Do
they,
or do I — take more heed of them than formerly? Pleasures which in my youth I doubted as possible, the whisper of which passed by me like the idle wind, others which I did not like even to hear of, I now think about. The tongue and the mouth more frequently minister to my sensuous joys. — Do I really like that or not? My imagination well exercised in sexual pleasures, now suggests strange forms of fornication. — I find women willing to gratify them, nay more — have evident delight with myself in doing so, when I have suggested them. Whether these fancies are indulged in with other men, or others of their own sex, and this not for lucre only, it evidently is to gratify themselves as well as me that they do them.

My lasciviousness has increased by practice and women are similarly influenced. — Is it during the last few years, years which I vowed to consecrate to fidelity, that I have thus changed, or have these tastes been growing on me since puberty? A voluptuous offer from a fair woman, I feel now that I can scarcely resist. — Where will this end, in good or evil?

My knowledge of male and female in sexual matters, in their procreative instincts and sexual vagaries, how large it seems. — Yet there still seems a field of pleasure, of enquiry yet unexplored before me. Shall I yield and gratify it? My former hesitations seem nearly gone, boldly and without hesitation, I now ask women for the satisfaction of letches, letches relatively abnormal. — Perhaps all beyond plain belly to belly copulation may be called abnormal sexual pleasures. Much that is done every hour, every minute by male with female is abnormal. But to what does this lead? — What will be the outcome to this wider range of erotic desires. — Good or evil? — Shall I struggle against it or yield? — Have I not struggled before, struggled against my philosophy, and with what result? — my narrative answers me.

Change in style in writing this narrative.
—
Reckless amours.
—
Nelly L
^**
l
^*
e and Sophy S
^***
h.
—
Neophyte harlots.
—
A first night out.
—
Madame S
^***
k
^*
n
^*
us.
—
Cuntal contrasts.
—
A lascivious evening.
—
Their antecedents and future.
—
Nelly’s face, form and
quim. —
Voluptuous complacency.
—
Her after life.
—
My tastes for
being
gamahuched.
—
Externals of sodomites.
—
Fantastic male lascivieties.
—
Champagne and sperm.
—
Dildo and arse-hole.
—
Birching tried on me.
—
Policemen’s forbearance.
—
One in plain clothes.
—
Nelly’s illness and my aid.
—
Sophy’s
face, figure,
and colour.
—
Married, mother, and widowed.

[It is evident now, altho it did not occur to me at the time when week by week, or day by day, I wrote these narratives, that of late years I had a growing habit of giving opinions on, and reasons for my amorous, erotic exploits. — This certainly was not the case in the early part of this history. — I suppose the change was the result of experience, and reflexion on that experience, which made me write those opinions. They were doubtless involuntary, they came in the natural course of the incidents, and writing them at the time pleased me as much as describing the events. These opinions and reflexions are an index to my mental state at
that
time, and it would be well to retain them all. The need for excision and abbreviation is however inexorable, and few can be kept. The desires which sprang up, the thoughts or experiences which led to them, if preludes to my amorous deeds, will however be retained, where not of too great length.

[Not having been found out in my promiscuous amusements with women, and the ailments of Venus not having attacked me, I became bold, and did openly hazardous things, which a few years ago I should have never attempted. I longed for women who had never sold their charms, and made advances to some who seemed open to them, some who were as critically placed as I was, and more so, for to them it might have been utter ruin. — With two or three, I had brief amours which we both enjoyed intensely. The pleasure of eating stolen honey is great, and hazardous, illicit fucking, is the finest of honey. Danger and risks no doubt give its charms to such liaisons, but fucking with eyes and ears open at my time of life, was after all not so pleasurable as fucking with a tranquil mind.

[Altho strong sexually, I thought that at my time of life that the strength could not last long, and seemed to desire to lose no opportunity in indulging with the sex, fearing that indifference which sometimes comes with abatement of virile force. So when I got the chance I had many charming transient amours. Circumstances indeed a little later on favoured me in these, and gave me opportunities of indulging with less risk than before, but what led to those facilities must not be disclosed. Many of my fugitive amours did not exceed the acquaintance of a night or two — nor did I wish them to last — nor perhaps did my female friends. Mostly they were commonplace, and I only tell of those in which was some unusual incident, tho with my habit then, as now inveterate, I duly recorded in my manuscript each amorous adventure.

[The next twenty or thirty pages relate to two young harlots named Nelly L**1*e and Sophy S***h — . I occasionally visited Nelly for many years, the other rarely, tho for as long a time or nearly so. — My libidinous amusement with them were all of the ordinary kind, which I have practised with hundreds of the frail sisterhood, and with many who were not frail in a financial sense. They were as usual, described by me at length in my original manuscript, but the repetition of salacious tricks seems tedious now, so I have carefully weeded out, arranged in some order, condensed, abbreviated this part of my narrative, to about one fifth of its original length; leaving only certain episodes worth retaining for their variety, which I shall put in their chronologcal order nearly.]

 

Going along L**c**t*r Square one evening I saw a shortish female in front of me. She had short petticoats (worn then), Balmoral boots, a small foot, and shapely calf. — The movement of haunches and legs told me she had the class of form I loved; I can tell by the pose of the foot, and the swing of the bum, what sort of thighs and rump are moving underneath petticoats — I passed and looked at her. She had a quite young, modest face, white and pink complexion, dark eyes, and looked healthy, fresh and enticing. I stopped, turned, and she passed me. She is modest, I thought. — Bah! what does modesty do here by itself at eight o’clock p.m.? — So I accosted her, wondering at her steady bum swing which looked twenty-one at least, whilst her face looked but seventeen or thereabouts.

“May I go home with you?” “Yes if you like,” and she looked back. “Where do you live?” — “I live at — oh I forget, but it’s just over there.” “Go on and I’ll follow.” — She hesitated, but turned back. — Up came another female, taller, with flaxen hair, and a nearly white face. — “The gentleman wants to know where we live, what’s the name of the street?” “Tibble, Tickle, Tish, or something like it I forget, but I know the way.” — They both laughed heartily. — “Well go on,” I said (for we had stopped), “I only want this lady and not you.” — I never like talking long to gay women in the streets. “It’s Pickle Street,” said my selected one, laughing. “Cross over.” — Both crossed, I following, when a short, sallow, Jewish looking woman there stopped them. — “What is it my dear,” said she. “The gentleman wants to know the name of the street.” “Oh, it’s T
^***
f
^***
d Street, sair — I will shows the vay,” and off she walked rapidly with the girls, I following a little distance behind them. It was the baud who was giving them their first lesson in street walking, and following them in view.

She opened the door with a latch key — “I only want this dark haired girl,” said I, “and I’m only going to give her a sovereign.” “Vel, vel, go in, sair.” — I went in and upstairs to two handsomely furnished rooms — a lamp was already lighted, and she lit two candles, the girls stood still, silent, and staring at me, I stood thinking — I hate making these arrangements with second or third parties — a baud, and a couple of whores are a match for the Devil.

“I only want this lady,” I repeated, “and can only give her a sovereign.” “Oh you must give her two sovereigns — it’s her first night in London, she’s never been out before. Oh she must have two sovereigns.” “No.” “Vel dare is no harm done, sair, you see vat nice young ladies they be, and these handsome rooms but if you won’t, you won’t — vel go out again my dears.” — It was all very civilly said. — No bullying. — She blew out the two candles, not a word had either girl spoken and she opened the door. Said the woman as I moved towards the door, “I can’t let her for luck’s sake start like that, I brought em both to London the day before yesterday, they’ve never seen London streets till an hour ago.” I paused — I had noticed in the street the girl Nelly staring about in a strange way, instead of cock hunting with the steady glances of a regular strumpet — besides the girl looked so very fresh and so modest, that my prick was standing, and I felt a violent lust for her. — “Well let her stay, I’ll give it her, but if I have her another night I can only give a sovereign.” — “All right, sair.” “But I shall stop a long time.” “You may stop as long as you likes, mayn’t he Nelly?” “I don’t care,” said the girl.

The old woman relighted the candles. — “Have Sophy too,” said she. I never liked fair haired women. — “No.” “Do — it’s her first night as well — don’t make them jealous of each other, they’re friends now. — Do, and I needn’t go out again tonight.” — That struck me as so funny that I laughed. “When you see em both quite naked together, you vil say you never see sich fine gals.” “I won’t be naked,” said one, I don’t recollect which. — “Now my dearee, you must please gentlemens if you vants to make friends — Didn’t I tell ye now — didn’t I tell ye — I’m not a going to keep yer — you’ve got to keep yourself.” Then turning to me, “They will be all right when she knows you, sair; have Sophy, do — she’s as white as snow, her thighs and body is, and she is formed beautiful, and her hair’s the same color
there,
one’s black and the other yaller,” and the old woman winked at me again with a leer. The contrast was extreme — “black cunt, flaxen cunt” — thought I. “Well, let her stay too — but I’m not going to pay
you.”
— “Oh! all rights, all rights, sair, you can stop all night vith dem. I knows a gentlemans vhen I speak vid him, all rights, sair, my name is S
^***
k
^*
n
^*
us, and I’ve been here five year, I’m a dressmaker, sair.” (I had some idea that I was going to be bilked.) “Now my dearees mind vot I as tell you, I’m sure he’ll be a friend to you both,” and nodding her head at the girls she went out. I bolted the door. She was a German woman I found, perhaps Jewish, but who had been some time in England, actually worked with a sister at dressmaking, and let her upper floors to quiet gay women, and had now by some chance got these two young women, to introduce to the
pavé
of London.