Gynecocracy

"How dare you commit adultery under your wife's own eyes?" she asked me angrily when she had given our passion a few moments in which to subside.

I was stupefied. Had she not ordered me to do so?

She, however, fastened my feet to the iron foot of the bedstead, soles uppermost, and whipped them cruelly for my committing adultery.

"Oh, Beatrice! Oh, how severe you are! Has he not had enough?" said Maud.

"No!" shouted Beatrice. "He can't drive much because of the condition of his bottom; and he won't be able to walk much now because of the state of his feet. Before my own eyes to-to-fuck you, my sister!"

Lash, lash! Lash!

Beatrice worked herself into a perfect fury. When she had finished beating me she tore her clothes off. I must acknowledge I was weeping bitterly. 409

Maud looked at me with great concern, she saw what Beatrice wanted-what I had just done to her. No doubt she wondered whether I could satisfy my wife.

Beatrice lay down upon me in a perfect hurricane of passion, but I was equal to the occasion, and to her delight fucked her violently.

She then put me on the bed face up and stood across me, while, stooping over me and bending down, she inserted my member into her pretty mouth.

"You have excited me to such an extent, that I must taste him-I must eat him."

She tickled me violently with her tongue, while, with both her hands on my testicles, she manipulated them.

I glued my mouth to her sweet clitoris and our inflammation produced a spontaneous return to the natural posture, save that Beatrice was uppermost.

CHAPTER 12

Conjugal Rights

The honeymoon was quite too delightful while it lasted and it extended over a considerably longer period than a moon.

We returned to England in the autumn and went to a house which had been purchased for us on the southern slope of Compden Hill-a good-sized building, standing in about eleven acres of ground. Beatrice had had a voice in its choice.

I had not known that these three girls were heiresses, but so they were, and they had a couple of a hundred thousand pounds a piece, so that Beatrice, in determining that I should marry her, had not done me any wrong pecuniarily. We were not embarrassed, like some unfortunates, in our domestic arrangements, and we had a properly mounted establishment.

I am not going to enter into my political and social life. Later on I stood at a by-election, and have been ever since in the House, where I have ascertained that I am by no means remarkable for being under my wife's thumb. Most of the legislators who are married, that is, most of those whom I know anything of, are the same, and possess what may be conventionally described as a "mortal dread" of their better halves. I am not going to enter into all this. My history is a secret one, and is concerned with our vie intime.

Maud remained with Beatrice for more reasons than one-the two girls were fond of me, and Beatrice, I suppose, would have been lonely alone, and Maud had to look out for her Duke or Marquis, or her country gentleman with his thousands of acres, or her brewer, or whatever eligible person she could find. It was well understood, to my horror, that her marriage was not necessarily to be sanctified by love; it was to receive only the blessing of Mammon.

The answer to my expostulations was one to which I had no rejoinder.

"Oh, what does it matter, Julian? I shall always have you to console me."

It was a matter of surprise to me that the consolations I had administered to Maud, and the duties I had discharged towards Beatrice, had not altered the figure of either of those ladies in the very least. I pondered upon this. And after our return, when the honeymoon and its fooleries ceased to a large extent by Beatrice's commands, I found I was still expected to go to her room, whenever she pleased, and to Maud's whenever she liked.

I thought I would employ my heavy House of Commons manner in trying to make Beatrice understand the necessity of our having an heir, and the danger Maud ran in these days of fierce competition in the matrimonial and other markets, if it should chance to be discovered, as it certainly would be, that a little stranger arrived via Maud instead of via Beatrice, or that Maud had such wonderful subtle sympathy for the sister that she, without any ostensible wherefore in the shape of a man of her own, should produce a little stranger, too.

"You are an owl!" said Beatrice. "Go to my boudoir."

I went to her boudoir, although, upon my word, I wanted to go to my club.

In our travels we had passed twice through Paris, going and returning. In Paris, Beatrice bought a thickish quarto album, with a limp cover, and she made me collect all the photographs, prints, sketches and drawings that were obtainable, in which were depicted, with a rudeness and nudity which would have extended the reputation of Pietro Aretino himself, the subjugation of the creature man to his sovereign mistress; and she arranged and stuck them all in her album.