Muriel

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Phillip's Day-Book

I am surrounded by that darkness into which I have allowed myself to be led. Dear Sylvia is to spend some time with her friend Daisy, for which I am grateful. Her eyes question me frequently, and I have naught to say that could be of comfort to her. The dread I have that she may discover my undoing causes me to relinquish myself more and more into the hands of Muriel and Jane.

A moment of extreme discomfort in every sense came upon me last evening when Sylvia ventured into my study to bid me good night Her aunts had told her, she said, that my novel was progressing. The dear child appeared to have nothing else to say, and I did not doubt that my sisters had put her up to that remark. My desk being covered with paper on which I have endeavoured-though with little success-to ameliorate the wicked desires of Muriel and Jane, Sylvia perched herself lovingly on my lap and made attempt to peer at them, as if to express an interest in my work which she would not otherwise have.

Being unprepared for such, I made haste to cover them, which much put her out, and I endeavouring to explain that nothing was sufficiently good to be read yet.

“Well, Papa, they say you are a good writer, anyway', Sylvia said proudly, not having-to my relief-the forwardness to turn the papers over again to her view, though she looked a mite disappointed at my apparent secrecy. I was therefore put to the ludicrous exercise of explaining that I wanted her to read only the best I had written. This appeared to please her, for it gave upon her the role of a severe critic. What a ludicrous and shaming state of affairs! Moreover, she wriggled in her girlish way upon my lap all the time we were speaking, and in a manner that caused me some physical alarm. Her attire beneath her dresses is nowadays minimal and hence the warmth and roundness of her bottom exudes through the material.

At the same time I could not bring myself to push her off my lap, which brought me into severe physical embarrassment which I was afraid she could not fail to notice under her derriere. Nor could I retract my person from under her in the undue state of arousal to which I was in all innocence on her part being put.

It was then that Muriel intruded, telling Sylvia that she must hasten to bed and get her 'beauty sleep', as the foolish saying is. One last moist kiss from Sylvia's lips fell upon my own and then she scrambled off my lap, causing me to 'prong' visibly against her rising bottom cheeks. I flushed heavily, but fortunately she did not turn. Scarce had the door closed upon her, than Muriel cast her eyes down pointedly at my hapless state and declared her 'pleasure' that I 'have such a stiff attitude towards females'.

I replied not. I gritted my teeth and would have crossed my legs had my projection not been too painful for the task. I was then ordered to 'display' to her which I did, though in fear of Sylvia returning and seeing my near-bursting weapon. (I writhe to think that I shall be 'congratulated' by one or the other of my sisters on writing this).

My stiff cock was then handled gently and in the most fearfully exciting way. There are times-too many now- when one is forced beyond the barriers of pride and shame. Muriel leaned over my chair, her hand clasping my penis and rubbing up and down.

'Shall you come at a venture?', she laughed, thinking that a fine literary pun.

I shook my head. My cheeks were suffused. I knew veil enough that in such moments now I am utterly weak in her hands. My hips began to jerk despite myself.

Poor, dear Sylvia-being made to sit upon his naughty big thing, I was told.

'No!', I choked.

Thereat she laughed her cruel laugh and, taking a ambric handkerchief from the neck of her dress, wrapped id tied it tightly about my quivering erection.

'No? Very well, I shall leave it in this state, and I shall return in half an hour to make sure you have not messed into it', came her reply. She then swept out, leaving me bereft and with my testicles swollen with desire. Even as she closed the door I heard her calling down, 'Jane, there is something I wish to tell you'.

I had no need to try to guess what that might be. My name and dear Sylvia's would be used in the most untrue fashion. It was then, alas, that-my balls compressed on the chair and my prick having reached such a point of imminent effusion that it would not control itself-I spouted thickly into the enfolding handkerchief. The seat of my chair juddered beneath me, so violent was the spermatic explosion. Come dribbled back down my penis. Waves of exquisite pleasure were followed by a surging weakness amid which I knew to my horror that punishment was about to fell on me when Muriel returned. She would-and did-exult in my 'weakness' and 'the proof of her words'. I am a libertine who must be kept under control-so she and Jane proclaim, even though they know the truth of the matter.

Deirdre has not replied to my letter as yet, though still I live in hope. She was an angel of modesty compared with these. I care not that my sisters will read these words. They will chide me for the hypocrite that I am not, then make me lick their bottoms like a dog.

Celia's Day-Book

Through what an ordeal of explosive passions I have passed! I have cried, I have protested, I have loved, endured-and all this in one long, long day the like of which I never knew before.

Muriel cozened me at first with all her loving skills. Her tongue, her breasts, her thighs, her bottom, all were mine, as mine were hers. Naked we lay abed and cared not for the world. Our tongues entwined, our fingers sought. Several times she rummaged my nether hole and I protesting weakly that I did not like it there.

I must learn, said she, and this amid such flurryings of kissings, such rollings about upon the bed, that I could not bring myself to say nay to her.

'Let me give you the feuille de rose', she breathed. Not knowing what she meant I allowed myself to be manouevred up on to my knees, whereat she slid down behind me and lovingly applied the curled tip of her tongue between my bottom cheeks. Oh, the sensation!

'Stop! It is too nice!', I uttered incautiously, to which she replied, 'Of course, my sweet, but you have even better to learn'.

At that, a footfall was heard beyond the door and I made to start up, but Muriel was in truth upon me like lightning, first straddling my back and then quickly reversing herself upon it so that she faced towards my hips and pulled them up anew by main force of her arms. To my horror I then perceived the entry of a gentleman, totally naked and with his penis erect. Worse, he was not alone, nor was the manner of his entry any other than the strangest I have ever seen.

About his neck was a thick leather collar from which extended a steel chain, the free end of it being held in the hand of Muriel's sister who was garbed in but a filmy peignoir which, floating open, revealed her breasts and her dark bush.

'Quickly!', she rapped at him. He appeared to be in a daze, much as I was myself at this turn of events. As for myself I bucked and endeavoured to throw Muriel off, much like a fretsome filly might, but the weight of her bottom on my back prevented the venture.

'Do not let him!', I screeched to no avail, for already he was taking postillion on the bed immediately behind me and-being commanded to by Jane-he assisted in raising my hips the more so that my shameless bottom was fully presented to him.

'I have oiled her bottom with my saliva just as you have his cock, dear-now put him to her. Her hole will be tight, for it has not been ventured before this. Monitor him! He has got to pleasure the darling lady thoroughly', Muriel uttered.

'No!', I screeched, but already all was too late. The cheeks of my derriere were rudely parted. The crest of his penis, which was indeed moist, dared to assail me there. I cried, I pleaded, to no avail. If anything, Muriel took the saddle even more firmly, resting her knees on the bed on either side of me while my hapless bottom-receiving the first inch of his thick, fleshy pole-was held firmly.

Oh dear god, the sensations that came upon me with the entry of a man's prick into my most secret orifice! I felt at first a burning sensation. It was like receiving a cork-a long and much swollen cork. I heard him grunting. Three inches of pulsing desire embedded themselves and so held for a moment, 'that she might accommodate to it', said Jane who clearly exerted a strange control over the gentleman-if I can call him such.

'Work your prick back and forth a little-just a mite- then slowly give her more', Jane uttered while I moaned, closed my eyes and clenched my teeth at this rude, lewd invasion.

His cock moved back and forth an inch or two and indeed thankfully eased my passage a little so that the stinging sensation blurred and vanished. I felt curiously filled, plugged, yet it was nothing in comparison with what I endured as that erect penis then burrowed deeper, and I moaning out for it not to.

'Almost there!', Muriel exulted, leaning forward, as I felt her do, and having a prime view from above.

The male uttered some solemn imprecation that I did not catch. He was breathing heavily, as I myself began to. I felt his balls come to nestle under my sticky slit and knew him to be fully home, whereat he was told by Jane to 'hold' again while I endured the throbbings of his sheathed weapon which seemed to me to have so magically expanded my bottomhole.

'Now-work her slowly, for she is a divine creature whom you are not fit otherwise to touch', came from Jane.

As for myself I could have said nothing then. The total entry of his prick seemed to have driven all the breath from my body, though that was to be only a momentary feeling. After a seemingly endless moment of 'burying', he commenced slowly slewing it back and forth while I bit upon my knuckles at the sweet-surging sensation which I found to be utterly different and more lewd in feeling than having my cunny sluiced.

Our moans mingled. 'Work your hips gently back and forth, dearest', Muriel instructed me and gave my left buttock a little pinch to urge me on. I do not recall uttering any coherent words-only sounds and small cries which she afterwards averred were among the prettiest she had ever heard. To my shame I knew that I was beginning to surrender to the wicked act and to the ever-changing sensations it wrought in me.

A long, long minute of such slow pistoning passed the while that my bottomhole drew on his cock, for I could no longer help myself. Then an 'order' (I can call it no less) emanated from Jane, whereat he began to pump me with rather more rapid strokes, causing my bottom to smack against his belly as the cork surged back and forth.

Muriel thereupon unsaddled herself and slewed half beneath me, bringing her luscious mouth under mine.

'Enjoy!', she husked into my mouth. For a moment I fought between pretending prolonged dismay and the pleasure that had begun to steal into me. My breath puffed into her mouth, my bottom wriggled. Once more the sleek twirlings of her tongue invited reciprocating movement from my own. The male himself panted louder, enjoining Jane to say to him, 'Not too soon!'

'Goooo!', I choked. In my own mind I uttered the most foolish of sounds, however well received they were by Muriel who fondled my dangling breasts at the same time and poured a heat of passion into my mouth so that I did not doubt the sincerity on her part that I should be pleasured and not, as I had first thought, but rudely assaulted.

My cunny tingled. It had done for some moments passed but then I became more aware of it. Muriel's hand reached blindly down under my belly, found my curls, and then my spot. No sooner had her fingertip circled it than I spurted a fine rain of lovejuice.

'Let him come now!', she uttered from beneath me.

At that a deep gurgling sound came from the gentleman.

'She is to receive every drop!', I heard Jane say, and at that he quivered mightily, drew my bottom cheeks deep into his stomach and loosed such a thick, warm flood such as I have never even known Roger to produce in my cunny. Ah yes… I have to confess that the feeling was delicious. It is true, as Jane said, that one can feel the injection of the male juices better there than in their 'proper' place. I felt every jet, every spurt, every renewal of the long-threading, thick sperm until at the very last his pearly drops oozed into my tight orifice while he breathed above me as one who had run a long race.

'Out very slowly!', Jane commanded him, and as he obeyed, withdrawing inch by inch, so I felt the loss, the emptiness in my well-flooded bottom. The knob slipped without and I slumped, feeling his warm juices bubbling within in the most delicious fashion. I hid my flushed face, and my breasts wobbled as Muriel slipped out from under me and brought me to face her.

'You see how nice it is!', she smiled.

I knew not what to utter first. 'Who?', I asked stupidly, squeezing my ardent nether cheeks together as the sensations continued pulsing within.

'It does not matter, my love, so long as you have enjoyed. Believe me, that was my sole intent. Let Roger be the future benefactor thereof. Offer your bottom to him henceforth and double your pleasures-as you may also do with other gentlemen I may introduce to you'.

'But you are making me into a wanton!', I protested.

'A wanton, indeed? What nonsense is that? It is a word coined by the prudish. It does not obtain to reality. Life is brief-enjoy it as you will, and let us have no truck with petty thoughts of the small-minded. You will carry home with you the most wondrous memories of pleasure such as I shall also hold. Much as I adore you, there are times when I wish you to be compliant, Celia, as a woman must be on occasion. Do you understand?'

She rolled upon me as she spoke and pinned me under her. The tip of her tongue coursed around the shape of my lips. Her stiff nipples stung my own.

'Yes, but…', I began weakly, at which she threw back her unpinned hair with a twist of her neck and but laughed at me lovingly.

There are no buts, my sweet, only pleasure. I shall lead you to more. Trust me!'

'I want to, but I dare not', I replied, yet my eyes were as easily read as was my mind. Whatever else may have been said diffused itself in more prolonged kisses. Once more I spurted to her gentle rubbings and fell into a peaceful passivity, a dreamlike state in which I knew myself to be both lost and found.

As to my return, I found Roger pensive and feared that some change of mind would bring him to upbraid me. My fears were soon dispelled, however. Yet, guilt-ridden as I was, I sought to unburden myself by confessing fully all that had occurred, much as I knew that could incur his wrath. No sooner had I used the word 'confess', however, than he put his finger against my lips.

'Here is not a Court of Justice but a home of love; you have nothing to confess', he said. Even so, and sweet as were his words, I felt I could not hide from him that which I had virtually allowed to happen and which I had refused him for years.

'But dearest, I must tell you.' I began.

'No, you may not, Celia, for once a cupboard is opened, too much may tumble out. Is that not so? Have we not all something to confess? And shall we profit from so doing?'

I fell silent in his fond embrace. After such words, he can do no wrong in my eyes. The temptation-exceedingly strong to my surprise-fell upon me to invite his prick between my nether cheeks, yet by so doing, at such a time, I would in other ways be confessing. That passion will eventually tempt him to take me in that wise, I know. Let the moment come as it may. I shall not refuse him. Indeed I shall welcome the brute entry of his penis there- so unexpectedly have I become converted. If I have a confession to make to myself then it is that my bottom cheeks now squeeze pleasurably at the thought.