Gynecocracy

"What can Bee know?" answered Maud. "Even I do not know why all this fuss is made. Of course I know it was very dreadful your putting that terrible thing of yours into-into me-where-where you did." I could feel her flush as she said this. "And then it went into such a fit, such throbs, like a steam engine. I could feel it to my finger tips-to the tips of my ears. Oh, Julian, it was nice! And really, I believe, because it was so naughty. And then it shot out some delicious wet that was like balm to a sore place. Oh, to think of it! Oh, how nice! Still, was it dirty? I suppose that is why Mademoiselle had me syringed so quickly before it could poison my blood or anything. But I do not see why they should make such a fuss about it. Mademoiselle does many worse things herself, as she must know I am aware. If you had not torn me open, you bad boy, they would never have found out. It was the blood that betrayed us. But I do not feel at all sore. In fact-in fact-oh, Julian, do you know, I should really like you to do it again. I feel I want it. I wonder whether there will ever be a chance?"

I was amazed at Maud's ignorance, and amused too; pluming myself on my superior knowledge. She spoke slowly, a sentence at a time, and I did not interrupt her, for I wished to ascertain exactly what she knew and I learnt she knew nothing! I was bursting with anxiety to impart my knowledge but I held my tongue until she had quite finished. Then I said, "Don't you know, Maud, I should have been a model for a living Apollo."

"Whatever do you mean, Julian?"

"Why, that is how babies are made!"

"How babies are made!" she cried. "Nonsense! How do you know?"

"Mademoiselle told me."

"Told you! Did-did you do it to her?" Maud's tone suddenly changed towards me as she asked this question. Had I answered in the affirmative I was convinced she would have been so jealous, that for a time, at any rate, she would have had nothing to do with me. Fortunately, I was able to answer: "No."

All the years that have elapsed since the period I am speaking of, have failed to teach me the reason of this desire in each individual woman to exclusively possess all the men whom she favours. My petticoats, my being so long treated as a female, my experiences with Lord Alfred 136

Ridlington in the conservatory have given me a great insight into the mystery of female feelings, into the sensations of a woman when bestowing her choicest favours. And what I have yet to relate has deepened this insight. But although I can understand her coveting exclusive possession, I have never been able to regard it as reasonable.

"No," repeated Maud. "Then how can you know? Do you mean Mademoiselle told you in so many words? She can never have had the face to do that!"

I was on the point of saying like a fool that I had longed to do it to Mademoiselle and so found out, but I stopped in time.

"She gave me a psychological lesson and I discovered it incidentally," I said with as much nonchalance as possible.

"And what can Beatrice have meant about the Apollo? You and Bee were chums from the first. She must know."

I confess I felt very much puzzled myself as to what Beatrice knew and the real reason for the promise she had so pertinaciously extracted from me. I recollected also that I was bound on parole to Beatrice for five years and it struck me that if she discovered what had occurred between Maud and me it would be excessively awkward for me. She would, no doubt, regard it as a breach of allegiance to her for I knew that I had for a time given myself to Maud as completely as a man can give himself to anyone and yet I was not my own to give.

These reflections seriously increased my discomfort. It was bad enough to find myself absolutely in Mademoiselle's hands and I was far from pleased at the prospect of a score to settle with Beatrice as well. Strange to say I felt more disturbance on her account than on Mademoiselle's, and I explain the fact by Beatrice's possessing much more control over my spiritual being than Mademoiselle, the confines of whose sway were my animal existence.

A spark of the divine fire of love had fallen from Beatrice's eyes into my bosom and had there kindled a flame which permeated all the ramifications of my existence. One curious result was that I willingly submitted to corporal punishment from her as it appeared to bring my sensual organisation into subjection to my soul, which was hers, and consequently in some esoteric mode gave me the gratifying sense of being possessed by her, of being wrapt in her, of having the same springs of life, of drawing our existence from the same source; of having my mind, my feelings, and senses bounded by her own; of, in short, entire subordination to her.