My Secret Life (21 page)

I turned this over in my mind. We were again in the fields, on the way there he gave me a long account of how old Smith used to wink at his having the field-girls; and indeed I had often heard him tell it. “You tell him you would like any one, and see what will come of it.” There was a pretty sun-burnt girl about fifteen years of age that had given me a cock-stand. “That’s a pretty girl Smith, I’d give a sovereign to have her, — is she loose?” “Don’t think so yet squire, she be skittish; her sister’s not fourteen, and they say she be in the family way, when one sister takes to it squire, the others generally do.” “Where do you pay their wages?” I asked. The old fellow leered at me. “Why you be a taken a leaf out of young squire’s book sir (it was Fred’s advice); I pays them next at the root-stores,” a shed about a quarter of a mile from the farm-yard, and in which he had a desk. The women waited outside the shed, each being called in and paid in succession. They were paid every night, excepting in haymaking times.

At pay-time I strolled into the shed. One by one he paid. The girl I wanted came last. He told her he wanted her to take a parcel to the village. “Yes sir,” said she. Off old Smith went to fetch the parcel, — it was the dodge, Fred told me afterwards, the old goat always adopted to get a girl left alone with him.

Very randy but nervous I went out with Smith, then strolled back into the shed. The girl had seated herself on some loose straw, she got up and curtsied. “Sit down my dear,” said I, “you may have some time to wait,” and talked to her. “You are very pretty, — you will keep your sweetheart waiting.” Smiling, she said, “I ain’t got no sweetheart sir.” Another look or two, and my randiness getting the better of me, I began chaffing suggestively, she sat down besides me, then I talked for a quarter of an hour warmer and warmer, then kissing, tickling, and pinching her legs. This did not seem to affect her, she enjoyed it; then out I pulled my prick, and all changed at once. “Oh!” said she, rising up scared to go. I pulled her back.

“Let’s do it to you.” “I won’t.” “You’ve been fucked.” “I ain‘t, — I am only fifteen years old (she did not affect ignorance of my meaning), — leave me alone.” I threw her down, and got my hand up her clothes. She loudly screamed, and that is all I recollect clearly: I know that I struggled with her, offered her money, told her I knew her sister had been fucked, and a lot more. I was so much stronger that she had no chance, I rolled her over, she screamed, and screamed again (there was no one nearer than the Hall), I exposed her bum, her thighs, her cunt, and all she had. I was furious with lust, determined to have her; at last she was under me, panting, breathless, crying, and saying, “Now don’t, — oh! pray don’t,” but I lunged fast, furiously, brutally, and all I heard was, “Oh! Pray, — pray now, — oh! — oh! — oh! Pray,” as I was spending in her holding her tight, kissing her after I had forced her. Her tears ran down. If I had not committed a rape it looked uncommonly like one, and began to think so as I lay with my prick up her.

I got off her, saw for an instant her legs wide open, cunt and thighs wet and bloody, she crying, sobbing, rubbing her eyes. I was now in a complete funk, I had heard field-women so lightly spoken of, that they were so accessible, that I expected only to go up a road that had often been travelled. This resistance and crying upset me, the more so when at length rising, she said, “I’ll tell my sister, and go to the magistrate, and tell how you have served me out.”

I really had violated her, saw that it would bear that complexion before a magistrate, so would not let her go, but retained her, coaxed, begged, and promised her money. I would love her, longed for her again, would take her from the fields, and every other sort of nonsense a man would utter under the circumstances. She ceased crying, and stood in sullen mood as I held her, asking me to let her go. I took out my purse, and offered her money which she would not take, but eyed wishfully as I kept chinking the gold in my hand. What a temptation bright sovereigns must have been to a girl who earned ninepence a day, and often was without work at all.

In an hour and a half I suppose, old Smith came back, he had really got a parcel for her to take. She began again to cry, and blurted out that the gentleman had insulted her. “What, has he kissed you?” “More than that, — boo hoo.” “What has he done?” “Been dirty with me, — and I’ll tell my sister, and go to the justice.”

“Pough, child,” said Smith, “he arn’t done you any harm, — a gent like him, — don’t make a fuss, — make it up, — it’s all fair yer know twixt a young man, and a maid — daresay yer wanted him to be dirty with you, — a gent like him, you ought to be proud of sich a one making love to you, — here, take this parcel, and be off.”

“Take the sovereign (she had refused it before), I’ll give you more another day; it will help to keep you a while, — hold your tongue, and no one will know,” said I. She hesitated, pouted, wriggled her shoulders, but at last took the sovereign, and took up the parcel, saying she would tell her sister. Then said the foreman, “None o’ that, gal, an I hears more on that, you won’t work here any more, nor anywheres else in this parish, — I knows the whole lot on you, I knows who got yer sister’s belly up, — she at her age, she ought to be ashamed on herself, and I knows summut about you too, — now take care gal.” “I’ve done nothing to be ashamed on,” said the girl, “you’re a hard man to the women, they all say so, — ohe! — ohe!” “Well there,” said he, dropping his bullying tone, “the square won’t harm you; I think you be in luck if he loikes you, — say you nought; — that be my advice.” The girl, muttering, went her way.

I followed her (it was getting dark), was so kind and coaxing, promised her so many fine things (I’m not sure I didn’t say I’d marry her), that as we neared the village, the little lass let me pull her into a convenient grassy corner, and fuck her again. She promised she’d say nothing to anyone about it.

Next morning I had a fear, and was annoyed with myself. If the girl said anything it would be all over the parish in the afternoon, and in my aunt’s ears the next day; all that for a dirty little farm-laborer. I had had none of that sensuous delight which both mentally and physically is found in getting into a virgin, had never thought of having her as one, nor did I recollect much cunt resistance to my penetration: but she certainly was a virgin. In my furious lust, and with my un-bendable stiff prick I must have hit the mark, and burst through it at one or two cunt-rending shoves. She had given a loud cry in the midst of it, “Oh! Pray now, — oh! Pray,” — but I had heeded it not. What excited me was her youth, her size, and the idea of having a little cunt with but little hair on it. In bed, thinking of, and funking consequences, I longed for a girl still smaller, for one with no hair on her cunt at all. On further reflection I calmed. She had taken the money, and let me do it a second time; it was all right, and I rose, and went to the scene of my exploit.

The girl was not at work in the fields, and my funk returned. “Smith,” said I, “is Nelly (let’s call her Nelly) here?” “No, nor her sisters.” “Sisters?” “Yes, there are two: one a woman called
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, very much older, the other younger than Nelly, and the young un they says be with kid.”

Next day the two sisters were at work again. I told Smith that after his dinner I wished to speak to the girl. The old cock-bawd told me to wait at the root-shed; and the girl came there to fetch his handkerchief which he left purposely. When she saw me, how she started. No, she had told no one, but was not going to let me do what I liked. A kiss. “I don’t like your hand on my legs, — oh! Now you said you would not, — take your hand away.”

My finger was on her cunt, I was feeling what little hair she had, my finger went up it, oh! How tight it was! “Now darling, let me, I won’t let you go till you do, — there, what a dear little belly, — let me kiss it.” “They will wonder why I am gone so long, — my sister will be asking me questions, — do let me go.” “No.” “Oh!” I had her on the straw. “Be quiet, dear, — my prick’s up you, — be quiet — ah! — ah!”

Laura and Fred.
—
Vauxhall amusements.
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A juvenile harlot. — A linen stopper. — The hairless and the hairy.
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Ten and forty.
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A snub.
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At my aunt’s.

 

In a few days Fred went to London. I, for a change, went with him.

Theatre every night, heavy lunches, heavy dinners, much wine, and cigars never out of my mouth, that was the first few days’ proceedings. Fred was keeping a woman named Laura of whom I shall say more; she was always with us. I don’t recollect having a woman for a few days, but it may have been otherwise. On the fifth or sixth night we went to Vauxhall Gardens to a masquerade. It was a rare lark in those days. A great fun of mine was getting into a shady walk, tipping the watchman to let me hide in the shrubs, and crouching down to hear the women piss. I have heard a couple of hundred do so on one evening, and much of what they said. Such a mixture of dull and crisp baudiness I never heard in short sentences elsewhere. Although I had heard a few similar remarks when I waited in the cellars of the gun-factory, it was nothing like those at Vauxhall, and it amused me very much. There were one or two darkish walks where numbers of women on masquerade nights went to piss, and many on other nights.

At supper Laura said, “Where have you been the last hour?” I laughed. “Tell us.” “Hiding in the shrubs where ladies go by ones, twos, and threes without men.” Laura understood. “Serves them right, they should go to the women’s closets; but you are dirty.” “Well, it was such a lark hearing them piddle and talk.” Fred, always coarse, said he never knew a woman piss off so quickly as Laura. Laura slapped his head. She had not been gay, and was very modest in manner and expressions; but loved a baudy joke not told in coarse language.

The signal sounded for fireworks. Off we ran to get good places. I cared more about women than fireworks, and lagged behind, seeing the masques and half-dressed women running and yelling (fun was fast and loose then). I passed a woman leading a little girl dressed like a ballet-girl, and looked at the girl who seemed about ten years old, then at the woman who winked. I stopped, she came up and said, “Is she not a nice little girl?” I don’t recollect having had any distinct intention at the time I stopped; but at her words ideas came into my head. She — what a small cunt, — no hair on that. “Yes, a nice little girl.” I replied. “Would you like to see her undressed?” “Can I fuck her?” I whispered. The little girl kept tugging the woman’s hand and saying, “Oh! Do come to the fireworks.” “Yes, if you like, — what will you give?” I agreed to give I think three sovereigns, a good round sum for a common-place poke then.

She told me to go out of the gardens first, get a cab, and stop at a little way from the entrance. In three minutes the woman and child joined me. At about five minutes drive from Vauxhall we stopped, walked a little way, turned down a street, and after telling me to wait one or two minutes, she. opened the door of a respectable little house with a latch-key, went in and closed it. A minute afterwards she opened the door, and treading lightly as she told me, I found myself in a parlour out of which led a bed-room, both well furnished. Enjoining me to speak in a low tone I sat down, and contemplated the couple.

The woman was stout, full-sized, good-looking, dark, certainly forty, and dressed like a well-to-do tradeswoman. The girl’s head was but a few inches above my waist, and she certainly was not more than ten years, but for such age as nice and fleshy as could be expected. She had an anxious look as she stared at me, and I stared at her. The last month’s constant desire to have a cunt absolutely without any hair on it was to be realized, I was impatient but noticed and remarked, “Why, you have gas!” — a rare thing then in houses. “Beautiful, is it not?” said the woman, and in a voluptuous and enticing manner began undressing, until she stood in a fine chemise, a pair of beautiful boots, and silk stockings. Engrossed with the girl whom I was caressing, I scarcely had noticed the woman; but as she pulled up her chemise to tighten her garter, and showed much of a very white thigh, I said, “I’ve made a mistake, I did not mean you.” “No,” said she, “but it’s all the same.” She came to me, pinched my cock outside saying “oho” as she found it stiff, and then undressed the child to her chemise. I had white trowsers and waistcoat on, and was anxious about rumpling them. At my request she drew my white trowsers off over my boots with great care; then divesting myself of coat and waistcoat I stood up with prick spouting. “Look there, — feel it Mary.” The girl not obeying she took her little hand, and made her feel it. Sitting down I lifted the girl on to my knees, and put my hand between her little thighs.

“Give me the three pounds,” said the woman. All my life I have willingly paid women before my pleasure; but thought I was going to be done, so demurred, and asked if she supposed I was not a gentleman, took out my purse, showed I had plenty of money, gave her one sovereign, and promised the others directly I had the child, — and then pulled off my boots.

We went into the bed-room, she lighted candles, the gas streamed in through the open door. “Lay down Mary,” said she. “Oh! He ain’t going to do it like the other man, — you said no one should again,” said the girl whimpering. “Be quiet you little fool, he won’t hurt you, — open your legs.” Pushing her back, or rather lifting her up, there I saw a little light-pink slit between a pair of thighs somewhat bigger than a full-sized man’s calves; the little cunt had not a sign of hair on it. To pull open the lips, to push up my finger, to frig it, smell it, then lick it was the work of a minute. I was wild, it was the realization of the baudy, dreamy longings of the last few weeks. I was scarcely conscious that the old one had laid hold of my prick, and was fast bringing me to a crisis.

Pushing her hand away I placed my prick against the little cunt which seemed scarcely big enough for my thumb, and with one hand was placing it under the little bum, when the girl slipped off the bed crying, “Oh! Don’t let him, — the other did hurt so, — he shan’t put it in.”