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And again photographs of the man could be reproduced with that of the girl in such position that her shyness would be at once overcome, and even for the sake of secrecy alone she dare no longer refuse to gratify his desires. But the actual seduction of very little girls is cruel and in every way objectionable, and is quite an unnecessary action on her lover's part. Very few children are strong enough to bear the pain and shock of seduction till they are well over fourteen years of age. I know, as you do, Marie, from our own experience, that it is common enough for men to ravish little maidens by force, who are no more than twelve or thirteen years old; but if these children had been allowed to remain in a state of virginity, they would, with a little help and practice, have proved much more delightful in the arms of their lovers. Hardly any little girl, after her first modesty has been overcome, and her passions have been aroused to their full extent by the fingers and tongue of her lover, will refuse to use her lips in such a way that she not only satisfies but exhausts – as no woman could do – his burning desires. It is true that the first time, she may shrink from the flow into her mouth, which her lips and tongue have drawn from her lover, but afterwards she will cease to have any repugnance to the action, for she will share the joy she is proud of being able to excite at so young an age. Little girls like having grown-up lovers and think they are almost women if they are able to share and satisfy their most intense passions and this a pretty child can always do if she will but try. There is no doubt that among little schoolgirls from eleven to fifteen years of age there is a great amount of secret indulgence. Healthy exercises have made them capable of feeling the passions of love at an early stage of their lives and often during their play hours in the spring and summer time a little shortskirted maiden of twelve years will be seized with strong sensual desires, and blushing deeply at her own naughty thoughts will wander away to her own room. There she will lie on her bed or couch and with knees bent and legs thrown wide apart she will, with the delicate touch of her pointed finger, produce a whole world of passion and love between the quivering lips of virgin charms. Or perhaps two child-girl friends will wander away together to some quiet wood or dell where they know they will be safe, and there indulge in the fullness of each other's love, talking and longing for the day when their first lovers will claim possession of their naked limbs. Ah! Marie, would not pictures such as these be delightful to show to a wavering and timid little novice in the art of love? And is there any wonder that men of refinement and feeling seek above all things the mutual indulgence of sensual passion between themselves and pretty child-girls? Surely not! For is not the naked form of a healthy well grown girl of twelve or thirteen years with a rich profusion of golden-brown hair falling about her shoulders to her waist, with little rounded breasts just rising from her sides as childhood advances to girlhood, crowned with little rosy teats which are ever sweet to kiss and suck, and there her little virgin slit just peeping coyly out between her white and rounded legs as if shyly seeking to learn the pleasures of the world, is not that a picture for any man's desire? Adieu, Marie, but I can tell you more of child-love, if you wish to know it from your old child-love. Phyllis.

LETTER NO. 2

IN WHICH PHYLLIS GRATIFIES HER LOVER'S PASSIONS

My dear Marie, In my last letter I told you how cruel I think it is of men to seduce little girls before they are more than fourteen years old, and the best way I can explain my reason for being so convinced in this point, is to describe very fully the nature of my own seduction, which was accomplished when I was but twelve, and especially the acts which led up to it, but these descriptions will, I fear, fill several letters, if I enter with details. As you know I was at that time a strong and well made little girl looking at least a year older than I really was. I had a mass of rich brown hair cut so as to fall over my forehead and down each side of my face. You used to tell me that I was a very pretty child and had lips that were made for love, and my eyes betrayed me as a little flirt. Well, you ought to know, Marie, for we have spent many a happy hour lying naked in each others arms. When I was between twelve and thirteen, I was sent to live with an old aunt, near a little town in the south coast, and as time hung heavily on my hands, I used to spend most of the day out of doors, wandering the lovely sand hills near the seashore, and as the weather was warm, bathing every day in a quiet little bay where the sand was smooth and the water usually calm. Not far from this place was a very large country house, owned by a wealthy Baronet called Sir Harry Norton. I often saw him riding and driving with a sweet, kind looking lady who was supposed to be his wife, but I afterwards knew that she had never been married to him. Sir Harry was a very handsome and finely made man of about thirty, and from the first time I saw him, his manliness raised in my mind a kind of girlish admiration, and I may as well confess that during those quiet moments, when, as young girls will, I was satisfying my secret passions in private, Sir Harry's face was always before me and I thought how sweet it should be to be kissed by such a man. I suppose these thoughts and pleasures caused me to look older than I really was, but my aunt made me wear the shortest of dresses which hardly reached below my knees. However this might be, I soon became aware of the fact that Sir Harry, whenever we met, looked at me in the most pointed manner, and as I glanced up into his face from under my dark eyelashes, I felt sure he was going to speak to me, and I need not tell you, Marie, that I was proud of the very idea of such an event. The little sandy creek where I bathed was so quiet and secluded that I never took the trouble to carry a bathing dress with me, but undressed on the rocks and walked down to the sea quite naked.

One hot day, I had done this as usual and having dressed again with the exception of my drawers, which had got rather wet in a frost of water, I clambered up into the sand hills, when who should I meet with a pair of opera glasses in his hand but Sir Harry Norton! I knew at once that he had been watching me, and that this man whom I admired so much, and almost loved, had seen me quite naked. At first, I felt inclined to run away, but I only stood still, and blushed from head to foot. In a moment he was by my side, begging me to forgive him.