Gynecocracy

CHAPTER 17

I settled myself comfortably and closely to Mademoiselle in the place she had so graciously indicated, covering myself up to the waist with bedclothes, for, whether the reader remembers it or not, I had nothing on but was quite naked, exactly as I had been packed into bed the night before.

Elise had drawn the blinds and curtains and left the window open. The fresh fragrant air of the May morning entered, reviving and exhilarating me. The sun was shining brightly and the birds were singing gaily outside, as they hopped about on the dew-laden lawns. There was a gentle and sweet breeze which wafted in the scent of the flowers and made low melody with the boughs of the ornamented trees; and I was seated by her own desire close to a young woman who each moment disclosed fresh beauties and charms. I was in her bed-petted, fed, and caressed by her. What a multitude of little endearments she showered upon me! She placed her dainty fingers against my lips and let me drink from her cup. She let me try to cover myself with the masses of her wealth of hair, and rested her head lovingly against my shoulder. Presently to crown all, having pushed away the table, she slipped her hand underneath the sheets, and playfully taking hold of that portion of me which Elise had so tortured, asked me with a bewitching look for my experiences of the night and whether I felt at all naughty. Her air was most engaging and fascinating and her manner full of encouragement. I responded at once and described to her how I had enjoyed my slumbers, and she asked what I had dreamt about.

"Of you, Mademoiselle, and, oh, I do feel so naughty."

"No need to tell me so, Julian, I can feel it," pinching me meaningly. "And, do you know, so do I, a little."

Who that was human could have helped it, in that luxury and that paradise, a perfect garden of delight, the golden day so young, the rich scent of the May wafted in by the lazily moving air, the voluptuous couch, the freedom from care? A feeling produced by such causes could not be naughty. If only the lovely being at my side had been my wife! As she had taught me that then only could she allow me what I instinctively felt was necessary to existence and could alone crown my felicity!

"What are you thinking of, Julian!"

"I was wishing you were my wife-how happy married people must be."

"Your wife-you naughty boy, I know what you mean. I shall put you down there and punish your naughty mouth, unless you take care!"

"Oh, do, Mademoiselle! Oh, do."

"Or do what I did to you on the couch?" she suggested, half reclining upon me.

"Yes, yes."

"Or would you like to lie in my lap better?"

"Oh! Mademoiselle, yes, yes."

"Which?"

"The last."

"Push that table a little further away. Let me arrange the pillow-now," opening her arms, "lie between my legs, you goose; down on my breast, so. No, no; you must not remove my nightdress; whatever are you dreaming of?"

"Oh Mademoiselle, only once, only for a moment, just Once."

"Do you mean to say you could restrain yourself now as you did last night, and with me?" said Mademoiselle, half in doubt. "No, I see you can't. Come," putting her arms round me, "lie down outside as I told you, and don't tantalise me."

But I saw I had some faint advantage, some chance now if ever, and was not going to throw it away without an attempt at obtaining what I wanted. So I hugged her close and excited her without adopting the position she indicated, leaving in her full view what I knew she must be aware would give her the enjoyment she desired, for had she not confessed that she was naughty, and said that I was tantalising her?

I coaxed her to let me put it against her, only just once; just to put it in a very little way, promising on my honour to do no more. I saw what a struggle she had to refuse, and wondered what on earth the motive could be, which was strong and powerful enough to make her hesitate. She did not reply. She drew me to her waist, leaving only just enough to cover the entrance, twined her legs round mine, and clasped her arms round my back. Then looking lovingly into my eyes, she hugged me closely, moving up and down, and exciting corresponding movements in me.

I felt the transport of my exquisite fetters, of my proximity to her. Her bare legs touched mine and held them; she was under me, the front of her nightdress was open, and my breast touched her bosom. Her breath entered my mouth and nostrils, her lips were against mine. She felt and judged the growth of my emotions and passions and her reciprocation of them, which I, on my side, was fully cognizant of, fanned them. Our transports acted and reacted upon each other. When I at last thought I was really about to expire in rapture, the spasm overtook me, and I sank on to her yielding form, a welcome and cherished burden. She allowed me to repose for some minutes in close communion with her. I had peeped into heaven. Would that I could have entered it! Would that she had consented to the incarnation of all she had affected me with and had caused me to express, by the throbs repeatedly ceasing and recommencing of that organ constituted for their communication. This expression she had refused to receive as a woman should receive it, an expression which should have resulted in a child born of her-what a child, what a love it would have been! Instead it had been wasted on her nightdress. What a crime! It was a grievous loss, a waste, a cheating of nature, for no moment can return, no opportunity once passed be seized again; never again might there be such a morning; or, if there were, it would be the second, not the first. It was the loss of the reproduction of myself upon my love, for she was entirely my love then, which deeply afflicted me; afflicted me much more than did the privation I knew I had suffered of the sensual happiness of which I had indeed had a partial enjoyment.

"Julian, how sad you look-how uncomplimentary."

"Oh, Mademoiselle, I would rather not do it at all than have to do it otherwise than in the proper way. If it is only a form you require me to go through, let me go through it. Let me marry you. That is not, cannot be the act of a priest, it must be the act of those who love. Who could be more married than we really are?"

"Oh, you ridiculous boy! Marriage, what foolery. I certainly shall not permit any such betise with me. Do you take me for a fool?"

"Then, Mademoiselle, it is a mere form, so let us be married without it."

"Indeed I certainly shall not so degrade myself. You should be grateful for what I allow you and not make me such a return. Come, I am not half satisfied. Come, you must be rested now."

"No, Mademoiselle," I said, "I do indeed love you. I do indeed wish to respond, I do not mean to be uncomplimentary or disagreeable, but I won't unless I may do it properly."

"Hoity-toity! What masterful airs! You will and you won't! Has not your discipline of yesterday taught you better? So I am to love you all in all or not at all, eh?"

"It is such waste!"

"Waste?"

"Yes; all the ideas with which you inspire me, all my conceptions of the loveliest forms suggested by your own beauty, all worked up into the most perfect expression, to be absolutely wasted on your nightdress. What can your nightdress do with it? It cannot incarnate the creature of my soul! You wish me to acquiesce in this-in your being cheated of conceiving, in my being cheated of-of-of conception by you!"

"Julian, on the subject of incarnation and conception you are mad-stark staring mad. It is a perfect mania with you. I expressly wish to avoid incarnation and conception. You selfish animal," she burst out. "In plain language you want me to have a baby!"

"Of course I do," I answered imperturbably, "of course I do; it is my right. You have given me the right; you have created, fostered, and inspired the idea; you have made me perform my part, and received it in the front of this," scornfully exclaimed I, holding up the front of her garment wet with my spermatozoa. "Of course I do," I indignantly continued. "Imagine, with my devotion to you and your kindness and goodness to me, which develop that devotion to its fullest extent-imagine Hortense, my own, what a love, what…"

"Julian, Julian," she cried, grief in her voice, "stop! It would be illegitimate."

"Illegitimate," I retorted. "What does that matter? To whom, except to hypocrites, is that of importance? Label it what you please, it would be our-our-child. Oh, my love!"

"Julian! Oh, my own, it breaks my heart. Some day, not today-not today-I cannot, I will not."

"Mademoiselle!"

"No, no, no! Come here. Lie down."

"I will not."

"You must; you shall!" and stretching out her arm to the table, she rang the hand bell, holding me very tightly all the time with her other arm across my back.

Elise entered almost before she ceased ringing. "Get a birch," said Mademoiselle. Then she added to me: "You must do what I tell you; you must not suggest such ideas; you must gratify me, obey me; you must, waste or no waste, please me, whether I incarnate and reproduce you or not."

What a thrill the words "reproduce you," from her mouth, caused me!

"Lady Alfred Ridlington will, if you like, lend herself to your whim." Cruel addition!

"I do not want to be incarnated by Lady Alfred Ridlington. You are cruel to me, Mademoiselle."

"Kinder than you think," she answered, getting me into position, clasping her arms round me, and again twining her legs about mine, which she stretched apart. "Now, Julian."

"No."

Elise had returned.

"Elise, birch him until you see he gives me good proof of his sex."

I was wild with rage. What profanation, what desecration! Elise performed her task. I was birched, flogged into obedience, once, twice.

"Waste," exclaimed Mademoiselle, laughing and satisfied. "Julian," she said, "I am sorry you should have clouded a day with so bright a morning, and made yourself so sad. Get those ridiculous notions out of your head, like a good boy. He will die of love, Elise. Dear boy, no one has ever shown me such true devotion. Some day, Julian, some day!"

"Today, Mademoiselle, can never return! If some day, it would not be the same."

"How absurd you are! As if that made any real difference. It is purely fantastical of you. But, anyhow, it cannot be today, that's certain. So there. Come," she added cheerily, seeing my countenance fall yet more, "come, you are a true knight and I will kiss you. I really will! Had you told me an hour ago that I would do so, I should have jeered at you! Go, Elise, and get my toilette ready. There, Julian, I will kiss you with a real kiss of love, such as your love inspires. I do love you, my dear Julian. I do indeed, and wish I could give you your desire. I cannot however.. Marriage is a diabolical invention for persons circumstanced as we are; the embodiment of everything anti-aphrodisiac. Even married people find it so. If we were married, should we be spooning like this, par example? But we live in the world. And what could become of the brat? What would become of me?"

I was compelled to acquiesce. The divine fury had all been whipped out of me by that time. I enjoyed the kisses; sweet delicious long ones they were and they helped to heal the wound. But it was one that had truly added indelible sadness and years to my life.

I could not dispossess myself of the idea that a beautiful being had been summoned by my spirit and the co-operation of Mademoiselle's which had worked upon mine, she being at that period my feminine complement and completion. And that, having been thus summoned, it had been obliged to go weeping away, wronged and defrauded of its 90

expectations, unable to linger, unable ever to return here, back into the nothingness out of which it had been evolved only to be disappointed and cheated; never to be clothed in the red earth which had been promised it, never to live.

I felt as though I had potentially lost a child* and my spirit was grieved.

* Emasculation was prohibited among the Jews. According to Josephus, it killed beforehand children who might otherwise have been begotten. The reason is intelligible but illogical.