The Pearl/Volume 9/Miss Coote's Confession, or the Voluptuous Experiences of an Old Maid.
In a series of Letters to a Lady Friend.
LETTER IX
My dear Nellie,-
I have been looking over some of my grandfather's papers, and found the following curious little bit written by his brother Dean Coote, "Remarks on the influence of Female Beauty":-
I shall reverse the general practice, and instead of beginning with the head, commence with the leg, and hope to get credit for so doing. A pretty face, sparkling eyes, rosy cheeks, delicate complexion, smiles, dimples, hair dark; auburn or blonde, have all, it is acknowledged, great weight in the business of love; but still let me appeal to every impartial and unprejudiced observer, which he is most curious to behold, the legs or the face of his favourite lady.
Whether does the face or the legs of a pretty girl that is clambering over a style, or mounting a ladder, most attract our notice and regard?
What is it that causes my lord to smack his chops in that wanton lecherous manner, as he is sauntering up and down the lounge in Bond Street, with his glass in hand, to watch the ladies getting in and out of their carriages? And what is it that draws together such vast crowds of the holiday gentry at Easter and Whitsuntide, to see the merry rose-faced lasses running down the hill in Greenwich Park?
What is it causes such a roar of laughter and applause when a merry girl happens to overset in her career, and kick her heels in the air?
Lastly, as the parsons all say, what is it that makes the theatrical ballets so popular?
It has frequently been remarked by travellers that in no nation of the world are the ladies more nice and curious about their legs than in England; and to do them justice there is perhaps no nation in the world where the ladies have greater reason to show them like pretty girls in dirty weather, when the fear of passing for dragtails causes the pretty creatures to hold their petticoats up behind, and display their lovely calves and ankles above par. But I am infinitely more delighted with my muddy walk than were I making an excursion in the finest sunshiny day imaginable. There is a kind of magic in the sight of a handsome female leg, which is not in the power of language to describe, to be conceived it must be felt.
We read in the memoirs of Brantome of a certain illustrious lady, who was so fully sensible of the vast importance of a handsome leg that once having the misfortune to break one of hers by a fall from a horse, and the surgeon by some inadvertency or other, failing to set the bone straight, she was so grieved at this accident that she actually had the fortitude to snap it across a second time on purpose and with design, then sending for a more skilful doctor, took care to have her leg carefully reset, by which means it was restored to its former grace and loveliness.
Some of my readers may, perhaps, condemn this conduct in the lady; for my part, I cannot but greatly admire both the soundness of her judgment and the amazing strength of her mind. But too well am I acquainted, from experience, with the magic which centres in a pretty leg, a delicate ankle, and well-proportioned calf.
The first time that I was in love (I perfectly well remember the circumstances as if it occurred but yesterday), the first time I could ever be said to feel what love is, I had to thank a pretty leg for it. I was then in my teens, as harmless and innocent a young fellow as needs be. My friends were of the strictest sect of religion. I was nolens volens brought up in their principles. Plays, novels, and all kinds of books which treat upon the subject of love were denied me; my parents were ambitious that I should be a second Joseph, and had partly succeeded in this pious design, when, lo! one single unlucky circumstance completely baffled all their endeavours. It was a beautiful summer's day. I had strolled into the wood, laying myself down in a copse of young hazel trees, and alternately musing and dozing away, when my curiosity was excited by a rustling noise close to the spot where I lay concealed. I was all attention; and directing my inquisitive eyes to the quarter from whence the noise proceeded, discovered a lovely rosy-cheeked girl, who lay basking, as it were, in the sun, and deeming herself sufficiently remote from observation, was under no restraint in her motions. Presently up she whips her coats and ungarters her stockings, contemplates her legs, turns them this way, and that way, and in short practised a thousand manoeuvers, which I have not at present leisure to expatiate upon; suffice it to say not a single movement was lost upon me, and from that hour to the present moment, I never see a pretty leg but I feel certain unutterable emotions within me, which seem to realize the observations of the poet-
Should some fair youth, the charming sight explore, In rapture lost he'll gaze, and wish for something more!
The Dean was quite right in his pretty delicate remarks about the influence of the leg; although only a woman, the same magic influence affects me; when I see a pretty pair of calves in silk stockings it makes me long to look higher, and have the bottom which belongs to them under a nice birch rod.
To return to my experiences, novices were rather shy of offering themselves as candidates for admission to Lady Rodney's Club, but one day, two or three weeks after the seance described in my last, Lucretia called upon me, apparently very much excited, and her errand was to tell me that Maria Aubrey, the sister of her quondam lover, wished to join us, and asked me to fix a day for her admission.
Knowing the young lady to be a very desirable subject, and to belong to a most aristocratic family, I could make no objections, and expressed my pleasure at the acquisition I hoped she would prove to the sisterhood, and appointed that day week for the reception of the novice.
When I mentioned the proposal to Lady Clara and asked what she knew of the young lady, she assured me that she had not yet the pleasure of her acquaintance as the young lady had been at school in Germany for some years, and was only just returned home.
Lucretia kept away from me till the eventful evening, but arrived punctually at seven o'clock with her protegee, who appeared slightly taller than herself, rather slim, with blue eyes, and dressed in white for the occasion; in fact, she seemed a very quiet, good-looking girl, the only thing specially attractive about her being a remarkable merry twinkle of her eyes, which seemed to look everywhere, and enjoy the sight of everything.
We were all present, and myself as usual seated as President, surrounded by the others. Lady Lucretia presented the novice without delay, taking her by the hand and leading her close up to the chair, then bowing, says, "Allow me, dear Miss Coote and sisters of Lady Rodney's Club, to present to you Miss Maria Aubrey, a dear friend of mine, who wishes to be admitted to your society."
President.- "Miss Maria Aubrey, are you willing to submit to our initiative ordeal and swear to obey the rules enacted by a majority of the members?"
Maria.- "Yes, I am anxious to be admitted, we had so much of the birch in Germany, that I am an enthusiast in the use of the rod."
President.- "Let her be sworn as usual," after which she resumes, "Now Sister Maria, you will have to strip and assume the regular costume which we have provided for you."
The novice blushed deeply, and seemed quite at a loss what to say, and I noticed that Lucretia was hugely enjoying the scene. From some secret cause she whispered something to Lady Clara, and the latter to Mdlle. Fosse, who imparted the information to me "that our novice was not in reality Maria Aubrey, but her brother Frank, Lucretia's lover, whom she had persuaded to personate his sister, without in the least letting him know what he would have to go through, and no doubt was quite nonplussed at the idea of being stripped and exposed."
I must confess that I felt quite a flush of anger at learning the trick Lucretia had put upon all of us, but by the whispered advice of Mdlle. Fosse I proceeded as if nothing was known. "Come Sister Maria, begin to disrobe yourself; here, Jane and Mary assist the young lady."
Maria.- "Oh! No! No! I can't be stripped, I didn't know you did that," blushing more than ever, and pushing the servants away from her. "Give me the things and I will retire to make the change but not before you all."
President.- "Already disobeying the regulations; you must strip this instant or the birch will be used without mercy, and we shall see if you are so fond of it."
Maria.- "Ah! I beg your pardon, but - you really must excuse me from undressing before so many."
Here the President takes up a most formidable rod, made of a thick bunch of long birch twigs, elegantly tied together with red and blue ribbons, and giving a sign, Jane and Mary, assisted by four or five others, pounced upon the victim, dragged her to the ladder, and in spite of desperate struggles, secured both ankles and wrists with cord which were passed through the rings of the ladder, and Miss Maria found herself quite helpless before she was well aware of what was going to be done.
President, advancing to the victim rod in hand.- "Ah! I see, this is a case of serious obstinacy; rip off that dress, and pull up her skirts, the sooner we begin to initiate her a little the better."
They all help to tear off the dress, etc., the victim is scarlet with shame, and shrieks out, "Ah! Oh! Pray don't, I've been deceived, I'm not a girl at all, don't expose me," tears of mortification running down his cheeks.
President, authoritatively.- "Stop, then, who may you be, are you a male or a hermaphrodite?"
The spectators all laugh at this question, and seeing his tongue-tied confusion, cry out, "Go on, go on, Miss Coote, give the impudent fellow a taste of your tickler, he must confess everything, and take an oath of secrecy or we'll whip him to death."
Victim.- "My God, what a scrape I'm in, these devils of girls will murder me. Oh! let me go, and I will swear never to tell anything."
President.- "Plenty of time for that bye-and-bye, you're not going to get off quite as easily after your impudent conspiracy with Lady Lucretia; you shall both see each other well whipped; you won't be shocked at seeing the bottom we know you are so well acquainted with. You're secure enough. Jane, prepare Sister Lucretia for punishment, so that he may know what to expect for himself."
Lucretia.- "Ah! No! I never meant anything but a little fun, you know I wished to birch him, and this is the only way I could manage it."
President.- "Very well, Miss, we'll take that an into consideration, and perhaps let you put the finishing touches to his bottom bye-and-bye. Put her posteriors in the stocks, Jane."
Leaving the young gentleman securely fixed to the ladder, they seize upon his ladylove, who knows better than to resist, and in a few moments Frank has the pleasure of seeing her blooming bottom and beautiful legs projecting from the wooden stocks in which she is so fixed that only the nether half of her person can be seen.
President.- "Now Mdlle. Fosse will administer a proper correction for the insult she has put upon the Club by introducing a person of another gender amongst us."
Mdlle Fosse, who has armed herself with an excellent bum-tickler of well-pickled birch.- "I don't think the impudent hussey was half punished when we admitted her, or the soreness of her bottom would surely have kept her out of this." Then whack - whack - whack - whack - she gives four very smart strokes with great deliberation. "How do you like that, is my arm heavier than Miss Coote's?"
Lucretia, screams and kicks her legs about in great pain.-"Ah! Oh! Oh! I beg - I beg pardon, indeed I thought a young gentleman would be a most agreeable accession to the Club. Oh! Ah! how you cut, it's dreadful!" as the blows continue to fall with great effect and precision, each one leaving its long crimson and blood-red marks and weals.
Mdlle Fosse.- "I must be quick, as it will take some time to punish Master Frank. I hope he is enjoying the sight of your castigation; is it as nice as it was before? let us know when your prurient ideas are satisfied by that feeling of sensuous pleasure you told us you experienced then," touching the tips of her birch in under her exposed pussey, and between the tender inner surfaces of her upper thighs.
The male victim's face was flushed with excitement at the sight of his lady's punishment, every blow seemed to thrill through his system, and put him into such a state of feeling as he had never experienced before, bringing out all the sensuality of his disposition as he watched the scene with rapt attention.
Mademoiselle plies her rod so vigorously that the blood soon begins fairly to trickle over Lucretia's bottom and thighs. "Ah! Oh! I shall faint. I shall die!" she sobs, writhing and twisting beautifully under the continued flagellation.
The President here comes forward with her rod saying, "I think Master Frank is longing to taste what it is like; pin up his skirts as decently as possible. I only want to see his bottom, we don't want the other thing introduced to our notice."
Frank was so absorbed in watching the beautiful sight of Lucretia's whipping that he never knew his own skirts were pinned up till a tremendous whack on his own bum awaked him in a most lively manner to a sense of his forlorn condition. He winces and bites his lips, the tears starting to his eyes, and an extra crimson flushing over his face, all convince the spectator of his renewed humiliation. Again and again the President makes her blows sound through the apartment, but not till seven or eight weals have been raised on his posteriors will Master Frank gratify them by the least approach to a cry.
President, with a tremendous crack which fairly draws the blood.- "I'll make you beg our pardon, sir. Will you ever insult us by coming here as a girl again?"
Frank, trying to bear it pluckily, and ashamed to cry out before a lot of girls; writhes his buttocks in agony, and still bites his lips in silence till they fairly bleed.
President.- "Obstinate, eh, so much the more fun for us, my boy; will you beg pardon, and swear never to tell anyone of this spree of yours?" cutting his white bottom with all her might, each blow scoring the flesh and making it raw.
Frank.- "Ah! I must call out, it's awful. Oh! don't quite murder me ladies. Ah-r-r-re!"
President.- "Will you come here again, you impudent fellow, will you take the oath now to keep our secret?" keeping him in constant agony by her well-applied strokes.
Frank's cries and Lucretia's sobs, in addition to the sight of two well-pickled bottoms, made the ladies all quite excited; each one takes up her birch, and as the President and Mademoiselle retire, they relieve each other in short spells of birching on the posteriors of the two victims, till at last Lucretia is nearly spent; she gets oblivious to pain, and seems lost in a kind of lethargic stupor. They let her down, and apply restoratives, which soon bring her to herself again, whilst Frank, who has been imploring for mercy, and praying to be sworn to secrecy for some minutes past, is at last allowed to take the required oath, but is greeted with renewed laughter when he begs pitifully to be released and allowed to go home.
"Ha! Ha! he thinks we shall let him go now, he can't object to Lucretia finishing him off, when she's a little recovered."
Frank.- "It was all her fault, I should never have come, only she assured me of a warm welcome."
President, laughing.- "That's good, ladies, is it not? And you can't say we haven't given you one, but it must be warmer still before we let you go."
Lucretia swallows some stimulating cordial, and with sparkling eyes announces herself as ready to assume the rod; they hand her an elegant new one, and she takes her position, evidently minded to give him a little after the fashion of Louise Van Tromp's style of birching. "Do you," said she, "dare to insinuate that I tempted you to come here, sir?" flourishing the rod over her head so that he could hear it hissing through the air.
Frank, all of a tremble.-"Ah! Ah! Lucretia, will you too prolong my torture, now I have promised everything."
Lucretia, bringing down her rod in earnest, makes his bottom wince and writhe under the stroke as she says, "Then you don't withdraw that insinuation, sir." Whisk - whisk - whisk, each blow harder than the last, and getting excited more and more, as the cuts seem to make the blood boil more tumultuously in her own veins, "Is it not true that you ravished me, sir? these ladies know all about your shameful conduct to me."
Frank, in agony and desperate at this renewed torture.- "Ah! Oh! Ah! I'm hanged if I own all that, why you know you had my - my - you know what I mean in your hand first."
Lucretia, angrily.- "Don't mention the disgusting monster," cutting him desperately across the shoulders, "hold your wicked tongue, sir, if you are only going to asperse my character," again paying her attention to his raw-looking bum.
Frank, who has now lost his false hair by twisting his head about too much, looks a little more manly, but is a very fair youth withal, although his rump is not so finely developed as it would have been in a girl.
Lucretia, who feels all the stimulating warmth of her own flagellation, cuts away in fury. "See, see," she cries, "that unmentionable thing of his is quite rampant, and sticks out under his shirt in front, it's impossible to hide the disgusting creature." Striking more and more round his buttocks, which so disarranges his shirt that we continually get glimpses of a very formidable-looking weapon projecting six or seven inches from a bed of curly light hair at the bottom of his belly, the youth's eyes roll in a kind of erotic frenzy, and every thought of pain and shame has evidently given away to his sensuous feelings as he writhes and twists his bottom in a most lascivious manner at every stroke. The flagellatrix is also beside herself, the sight of his bleeding bottom and erotic emotion increases her fury more and more. "Ah!" she cries, "he not only tries to make me out worse than himself, but see how insultingly he is exposing himself to us all!" cutting the next stroke so as to reach the offending member. This she does again and again, causing such intense pain and excitement that at last the poor fellow shouts out, "Oh! Oh! My God! I shall burst, it's awful, and yet gives most delicious sensations! Ah-r-re! Ah-r-r-re! Oh! Oh!" and then he seems to die away in an excess of voluptuous emotion.
Lucretia suspends her rod for a few instants and then suddenly wakes him up again with two or three tremendous whacks upon his sore posteriors, exclaiming, "Wake up, sir, we've had enough of that, perhaps you will now withdraw your insinuations against me; did you not take advantage of my confusion, when I found you so exposed in the garden?" following up her question by a lively application of her rod, till the blood fairly trickles down Master Frank's thighs.
Frank, again in awful pain, and ashamed to think how he has been exposed, now his erotic excitement has passed off for the moment.- "Ah! Ah! you she-devil, who could believe you could cut me up so after your loving caresses and assertions of your affection for me. Ah! Miss Coote, save me from her, have mercy ladies!" the tears of shame and agonized mortification running down his crimson face.
Lucretia.- "Not yet, you impudent boy; will you withdraw your assertions about me, or I will literally skin your bottom before you get let off."
Frank.- "Oh! Oh! how cruel of you Lucretia, to force me to tell a lie, how can I?" writhing under the shower of smarting strokes, and evidently beginning to experience the return of his voluptuous feelings.
Lucretia.- "Your cries are delightful. I enjoy it so much more, knowing how we love each other. Will - will you withdraw your wicked assertions? You have made these ladies think me a monster of lasciviousness. Do you hear, sir?" cutting well up under the crack of his bottom, so that the tips of the birch might sting him in the tenderest and most private parts.
Victim.- "Ah! Oh! Oh! My God! you'll kill me," seeming almost ready to faint with the suddenly excruciating pain.
Lucretia.- "Then why do you obstinately persist in refusing the satisfaction I ask of you, and say I want to make you tell lies, you wicked fellow, I'll murder you with the birch if you don't retract your vile insinuations," cutting him terribly everywhere she fancies he can feel most.
Frank, in terrible agony.- "Oh! Oh! What - what must I say - all those stories about us are quite untrue, we never did anything wrong," writhing about and hardly knowing what he says in his anxiety to get away from his torture.
Lucretia, with a furious blow which almost takes his breath away.- "Hold, hold, now, sir, you go to the other extreme; I only want you to confess you took advantage of me; your brain is confused, what a strange thing that after all this whipping and wealing the blood should still fly to your head."
Frank, sobbing with mortification.- "Indeed - indeed, I remember now, how I put my hand under your clothes, when you were so overcome you could not resist me. Ah! Oh! Oh! Let me off, you never need fear I shall tell the secret of my own humiliation!"
He is fairly broken down, Lucretia drops her worn-out birch as tears of sympathy rise in her large loving eyes, and she sobs, "Poor fellow, poor fellow, what made you so obstinate?"
President.- "Let him down, and make him kneel before me and beg our pardon for the indelicate scandal he has caused amongst us, as I can feel and see what painful emotions the sight has caused in every lady's breast."
He is released, and Frank, humbly kneeling, declares his sorrow for having so shamefully intruded upon our private proceedings and again promises faithfully to keep our secret, and begs with fresh tears in his eyes to be allowed to remain a member after his painful initiation.
This was most favourably received, and I soon found out that Lady Clara was at the bottom of a plot for introducing the male element into our society. I hastily closed the seance, and never knew how or what means they used to ease his sore bottom, but next day, by advice of Mdlle. Fosse, I intimated to them all a dissolution of the Club, as I could not possibly join in or allow my house to be used for birching orgies in connection with the opposite sex. My next and last letter on this subject will relate more nearly to myself.
Yours affectionately, ROSA BELINDA COOTE.
(To be continued.)