“But she'll expect medicine.” “Well, you must give her something which will open her bowels. She'll never think you are going to do her good unless you make her belly ache.”
During that evening I made remarks to Sarah of a medical nature. — Sarah said, “I think I must get you to give something to my little maid. — She is not very well, her poorliness won't come on. — It is her first.”
“Come here.” She put her work down and came. I asked her questions about her bowels, her urine, and felt her breasts, put my hand up her clothes, and pressed her belly, all as nearly as I could in a cool, medical sort of way. — She flinched a little when I said, “Let me feel your stomach,” and looked at Sarah. “I must examine her well,” said I. — “When next you come — you shall,” said Sarah.
How my prick throbbed when my hand pressed the little belly. I could feel no hair, or scarcely any. It is strange, that altho Sarah thought I had better proceed to look at her at once, that I put it off — I can under-stand why I did it. We had shrub, the girl disliked spirits, shrub she liked. I have always found young girls will take shrub, it warms the stomach, rises to the brain, makes the cunt heat and tingle, and the girls think of fucking. There is no better term to express a woman's sensation of randiness, and I borrowed it from Sarah.
I again felt her little rising breasts and her belly, and said that in two days I would see her again.
I saw Sarah next night and did not fuck her, said I would not till I had spent up the little deaf maid. Sarah, with the girl in bed, had talked on sexual subjects, had heard that twice men had tried to take liberties with her. — Once a tailor put his hands up her clothes, it was on the stairs. She didn't like to tell, for a tailor had once done something of the same sort to her sister, and she had told her father, who boxed her ears, and said it must have been her own fault. — She had had a sweetheart, who had coaxed her down a yard, kissed her, then pulled up her clothes, and felt her, and she felt for a second, what must have been his cock. — He put her hand to it. She ran away, and had not seen him once. “All poor girls get these chances early,” said Sarah. “She says she has frigged herself. — I made her feel what a lot of hair I had, then I felt hers, and I told her it would grow quite hairy when a man had put his thing up her. All girls are anxious to get hair on their things.” — Then they got talking about how fucking was done, until, “I believe the little devil got quite randy, I told her that I had had it done to me before I was her age, that a girl need not have a child unless she liked — that half the girls did it with men but never told.” — Sarah strove to fill her mind with desire to be fucked, told of the ease and secrecy with which it could be accomplished, and the benefits accruing. — Any woman I am certain can persuade a girl to let herself be fucked, if she stimulates rising passions, and incites her to compliance both for sexual gratification and interest, and women like teaching them.
Sarah told me she didn't like doing this. “But she will be sure to have some man do it to her, so you may as well have her as any one else, and I shall get my new dress. It will do me good and do her no harm.” To this I quite agreed. It is quite true, and what every gay woman has told me, and is my philosophy.
But if there should be a row? — “I'll chance it — how am I to know anything about it, she might have done it anywhere, when she goes out. I should swear all was a lie, I should say I never had seen you in my life, and no one shall see you if you come at dark, and only when I tell you.”
Next night I was there — my prick had been standing as I walked along, and yet I was nervous. I sent her out for shrub and then Sarah said, “I can't get a word out of her till the light is put out, then she talks fast enough, and asks me what the pleasure of fucking is, and if it hurts. — A girl she knows has made her think it hurts. I have told her that it depends upon whether a girl lets a man do as he likes or resists him. — If a girl don't resist, she won't be hurt. She thinks you such a nice kind man, and wonders a man with such a fine moustache, can call her 'my dear,' and speak to her as you do.”
“Shall I get into her to-night?” “I would rather be out when you do it, I have told her she'd be better if she'd been poked, and she said she supposed she should not be quite well till she married. — I said she might get poked before that, and her husband know nothing about it.”
I asked Sarah before the maiden about her own health, her womb, her courses, and so on. The girl looked at me and at Sarah with the appearance of mental strain, which people partially deaf often have. — “Well my dear, and how are you?” — I then felt her breasts and belly, and as I knew her little ailments, the questions were wise enough. “I must see you with your clothes off.” “Go with the doctor,” said Sarah. “I have told her you'll want to look at her as you have looked at me.” There was such a lot of palaver about the affair, that it crossed my mind I was going to be done.
The girl lighted a candle and went to the bedroom. In the room was a fire. I could scarcely now preserve the gravity of a doctor. — She took off her clothes to her chemise, and a fine little girl she was — I pulled it up, she half resisted, but as if recollecting who I was, stood still.
I asked all the searching medical questions I could. “Lie down, don't be ashamed, I am accustomed to see girls naked — there — so — just so — open your legs a little wider, now put your heel there — that's it, — don't close your thighs when I open the lips — that will do.”
There the girl laid on the side of the bed, her thighs distended, one heel up so as to facilitate and keep the legs open, the little thin lips of her vulva gaping, and shewing the pink lining.
I took a candle and saw the orifice which the prick enters, inside it the membrane closing it, excepting down near the bum-hole, where was a little opening, that looked as if a little finger would scarcely go thro it. The girl was unmistakably a virgin.
I could scarcely tear myself from her cunt, praised its looks, said what a nice made little lass she was — “And now my dear, tell me, have you ever put your finger up this?” and I touched it.
“No sir,” said she faintly. “Are you sure? Tell me the truth, it is no good deceiving a doctor.” “No, sir.” “Now I know you have,” said I, glorying in my baudy treat. “You have tried?” “I tried but it hurts me.” “I must try — if it hurts you a little don't mind
— it's for your good.” — Talking thus, I wetted my little finger with spittle, and pushed it gently through the little orifice and up her cunt, which felt soft and slimy inside. She winced. — “Oh, you hurt me, sir.”
Then I turned her bum upwards, and looked at the little cunt from behind, and afterwards, saw her naked from head to foot. I laid her on her back, gently rubbed her clitoris with my finger, and asked if she ever did so. — “I fancy you do what so many girls do.”
— Then I kissed her, told her she was a dear girl, that she would not be better till she had had done to her, what her own mother had had done. I could see her readiness, but had not the cheek to attempt or propose it to her then, which seems funny now, but so it was.
I went back to Sarah in such a state that my resolution left me — I sent the girl out for soda water, and the instant she was out, gushed my sperm into Sarah's quim before my prick was well up it.
When the girl came back she drank shrub. I spoke of her nice limbs, told Sarah of her form, took half a sovereign out of my pocket, told Sarah to buy her boots, and that I felt inclined to give her a new dress. Then on pretence of satisfying myself, took her into the bedroom and again looked at the virgin cunt, pulled out my prick (and didn't she look) and pissed before her.