Gynecocracy

CHAPTER 12

After dinner there was a carpet dance. One or two of the other men were at first my partners. How odd I felt, and how feminine! But I naturally enjoyed most those waltzes which I had with Lord Alfred. He waltzed capitally. After several turns, however, he suggested a stroll and a rest; and although I was sure Mademoiselle would notice our absence and was by no means so sure how she would take it, we soon found ourselves in a cosy and sequestered nook of the conservatory, where, seated close to me, he began to make hot love. His advances were delicate and insinuating. Aggression would at once have put me in arms. When he hoped he was not altogether disagreeable to me, what could I say? I could not be rude. But my unprotected position, the knowledge that I could not respond, which grew upon me with increasing intensity, filled me before long with a feeling approaching dismay, and I positively longed for a chaperon.

I had never been in such a fix before. I liked being made love to; but when he discovered that I was a fraud! Confound Mademoiselle and all her ways!

What on earth to do-whether to confess what I was, say I could not help it, and rely on his honour not to tell — I did not know.

The idea of running away occurred; but what a fool I should look, and, besides, it very soon became impossible and I was obliged to abandon all thought of it; for he put his arm round my waist and held my thighs pressed closely to him. How a girl would have enjoyed it! But me! I could only behave as I conceived a maiden would have done.

To add to my confusion, and to hasten the catastrophe, his other hand, in some inexplicable way, got up one of my legs underneath my petticoats. Then I felt there was no hope left! The murder would soon be out, and he would indignantly expose me to Mademoiselle, and she! But between my real and imaginary sensations I was in such a state of tremor and excitement that I could only rest gasping against him, be the consequences what they might.

After several minutes of the most deliciously exciting but yet most embarrassing dalliance with my legs and undergarments, and after many whispered soft nothings in my ear, he slipped his hand right up to my waist and got a firm hold of what was fastened there between my limbs!

Now, thought I, surely all is over! And I prepared myself for the outburst I conceived imminent, and to meet the consequences as best I could. But to my intense relief and no small astonishment, he proceeded to play with his fingers and hand, until I was almost beside myself. The softness and warmth of his form surprised me much. I wondered whether I should treat a girl so. Certainly not, I concluded, if I discovered her to be a boy. However, he evidently thought otherwise, for he continued torturing me in this nice fashion for some time, and appeared to take an unaccountable pleasure in it. At length, he went further; he set me, or, to speak more correctly, an important part of me, free by slipping the loops of the bandage over the hooks in front, and then leaning quite over me, he took hold of me afresh, this time more vigorously and more comprehensively.

The same crisis soon occurred (but under a completely different set of emotions) as had happened on the sofa with Mademoiselle, and, strange to say, his enjoyment of it seemed to equal, if not to surpass hers. It puzzled me how it could give him pleasure, and I felt no longer a girl. There was no mistake about it, his eyes swam, his lips were glued to mine, and he seemed to be carried away by a strong corresponding passion. Was he a man?

After a few minutes spent in imbibing as slowly as possible the deliciousness of the sensations we had evoked, he readjusted the linen bandage, gave me a final kiss, helped me to rearrange my disordered garments, and to smooth my ruffled hair, and then he proposed that we should rejoin the company in the drawing room. Although my cheeks were on fire, even if there were no other telltale signs, we were obliged to do so, for I felt sure that our absence would have been remarked. But returning did not accord with my wishes. I longed to tear open his shirt, his trousers, to investigate for myself, to solve the tormenting question without delay. Could he be a woman? He must know now that I was not one. What could he be? He gave me no chance, however, to ascertain. He availed himself of my dread that Mademoiselle would notice our being away, and said that my looks would confirm her worst suspicions, so we hurried off at once, and I was very glad to join energetically in the waltz we found just started when we got there. It would be some explanation of my flustered condition. Did all young ladies, I wondered, who left the ballroom or sat a dance out on the stairs meet with an experience like mine?

But I was doomed to disappointment. Mademoiselle had not failed to notice our absence, and proceeded in the presence of the entire company, to my horror, to rate Lord Alfred soundly for having carried off one of her charges, and upon his improper behaviour, paying scant attention to his excuses. Then, turning to me, she informed me I was to go off at once to my bedroom, there to be well smacked with a slipper, and put to bed by her maid for my forward behaviour. Whether this was to Lord Alfred's delight or chagrin I cannot tell, but it was to my own inexpressible confusion, and I was on the point of tears. I stood dumbfounded and foolish before everyone. I did not want any more whipping (I was still sore from what I had had), nor did I wish to lose the evening's enjoyment. But they started off for the next dance, and poorly I had to march off.