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The Power of Mesmerism by Anonymous

Then we got a little dog to suck our cunnies

Q.--Well, and how did Ada get on?

A.--She did not sleep in our room, she was with the French governess.

Q.--Now, Ada, you must also tell us all you know.

A.--The French governess was so hairy and rude, she began by tickling my fanny till I didn't know what I was doing, then she laid me back on the bed, and forced her face between my thighs, and sucked my cunny.

Q.--Well, go on, out with everything.

A.---After a while she would lay over me, and make me kiss her great hairy slit. Oh, you should have seen what a lot of hair she had on her belly, as black as jet right up to her navel. And then she used to wriggle about, and wet all my lips and face, which she called spending. A favorite game of hers was to make me frig her by forcing as much as I could of one of my titties into her cunt, which seemed to drive her almost wild; she would kiss my legs, feet, and any part she could reach in a frantic way whilst I was doing it.

Q.--Did she never do the same thing to you?

A.--Yes, it was awfully fine to feel her titty and nipple rubbing just inside the lips of my little cunny, I believe she made me spend--at least, I fainted and found myself all wet afterwards.

Q.---What other rude games have you been up to, by yourself or with your sister?

A.--When we were home for the holidays we used to frig each other with our fingers or titties, the latter was quite a new idea to Blanche. Then we got a little dog to suck our cunnies. Ah, that was another fine game, his tongue seemed to go everywhere, and drive us wild with delight. One day we took it in turns to suck his little prick whilst he was licking one of us--it was beautiful, but drove the little beast almost mad. At last we had to tie a stone round his neck and drown the poor thing, because he was always getting under our clothes.

Q.--Now, Harry, when did you first touch a girl's thing?

A.--I suppose I was about twelve when that happened. My aunt Clara, a very beautiful young widow of twenty-three, who had just lost my uncle (her husband) in the terrible Clayton Tunnel accident, and I may here add that what hurt her sensitive feelings almost more than his loss was the fact that the gay young fellow had taken a girl on the sly with him to Brighton for the day, and you know it was on the return journey that the collision occurred. Well, her grief and thoughts of his conduct, she said, made her so nervous and low spirited that she begged my Mamma to allow little Harry, as she called me, to go and stay with her for a time as companion. Every morning she would come into my bedroom to awaken me with a loving kiss, pulling off the bed-clothes, and playing me all sorts of tricks to make me get up. On one occasion, feeling unusually tired, I begged she would let me lay only a few minutes longer, as I drew her beautiful face down to my lips and smothered her with kisses. I was almost uncovered at the moment, it was a bright May morning, and the glorious sun was flooding the apartment with his beams of light and warmth. "My darling boy," she said softly, "I have a slight headache, and will rest on the bed by your side a little while," throwing her arms around me, and nestling her soft cheeks against mine. I soon felt her hands wandering over every part of my body, but it was so nice that when I felt her touch my naked thigh, I felt a curious kind of alloverishness, and my little prick stood as stiff as a poker. At last she touched even that. My eyes were apparently closed, pretending to be in a doze, but I could see the blush that came into her cheeks, and felt her give a kind of shudder all over. She caressed my little cocky for a moment or two, which gave me a kind of longing for her to go on. I could see she was greatly agitated, but my own sense of pleasure prevented me thinking much about that. My heart seemed to go out to her in a gush of love, as I suddenly opened my eyes, and throwing my arms around her neck once more, kissed her again and again.

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