I released it from my mouth, disappointed, and emulating his own tactics, worked it patiently with my fingers in an effort to resuscitate it, but there was nothing substantial to, grasp; it was like trying to make a piece of string stand up, so limp and flaccid had it become.
I could do nothing with it, and disgusted, I got up from the bed.
Wainwright's abasement was pitiful to behold.
"Oh, Princess!" he moaned. "Beat me if you wish!"
He sounded as though he actually did want me to beat him. It came over me that if he left under humiliating circumstances he might not return again. He was too valuable a patron to lose. It had always been profitable to humour him; it might be wise to do so in this instance. As he grovelled on the floor at my feet I came to a sudden decision.
"I will beat you, you vile creature!" I cried.
Glancing hastily around the, room I spied his own belt partly visible under the clothing he had placed on a chair. Snatching loose the strip of pliant leather I flew at him and began to belabour him across the thighs and buttocks.
"Take that… and that… and that…!" I cried, "you evil, depraved beast! If you ever do that again I'll… I'll…" and I paused to think of a sufficiently ominous threat.
"Oh, Princess! Oh, Princess!" he moaned, and turned over on his back apparently indifferent as to whether the blows fell on his cock and testicles.
Careful not to strike him in these susceptible parts I continued to rain blows on him. He grovelled, squirmed, and moaned, and suddenly to my great astonishment I saw that his cock was getting hard again. And there before my eyes was realized one of those strange, weird manifestations of sexual aberration such as delights the hearts of psychoanalysts and psychiatrists.
His hand descended to the reviving member which was now lifted upward in a half-erected state. His fingers closed around it, and while, I continued to shower blows upon his naked body he masturbated himself to exhaustion.
A sight fit for a cabinet in Dante's Inferno would have been revealed had anyone unexpectedly intruded in those moments. The man, grovelling naked upon the floor, furiously masturbating, while I, with nothing on but shoes and stockings, my hair dishevelled, my face flushed, panting and crying imprecations, danced around him belabouring him frenziedly from all sides.
When it was all over and he was dressed and gone, I sank down on my bed. My heart was thumping and I felt half-suffocated. On the bed beside me was a heap of money. I figured it indifferently, and came to with a start. The man had literally emptied his pockets! There were bank notes, shillings, pence and even pennies, a total in excess of anything he had given me before. Surely the man was a lunatic!
There came an insistent tapping at the door, and Hester entered. She looked at me in astonishment. I was still naked, my face flushed, my hair in disorder.
"Jessie! What's the matter? Did you have trouble with Wainwright?"
"No; no trouble."
"We heard you whipping him and I was uneasy. You never did that before!"
"Oh, the damned fool," I ejaculated, "I think he's crazy." And I related what had happened, omitting only the real cause of his having lost his erection. "He couldn't get a hard-on without my whipping him and I did… with his own belt!"
"Did he give you all that?" she gasped, observing the pile of money which still lay on the bed.
"Yes," I answered shortly.
"Gee! You have, all the luck! I wish I had a regular who was crazy the way that fellow is! I'd even let him whip me for that much!"
"Well, he makes me dizzy. I'm still trembling."
"I see you are.. You scared me when I first came in, you looked so… so strange!"
"What time is it, Hester?"
"It's about two o'clock."
"Are you going downstairs again?"
"No; there's nothing doing. I'm going to turn in."
"Listen, Hester, I'm nervous. Sleep in here with me tonight."
"All right, I'll get my… no! I won't either! I know what you're thinking about, you nasty little pervert!"
"Please, Hester!"
"I will not! Get the electric massage machine or jack yourself off if you're so hot!"
"Please, Hester!"
"What in the world is the matter with you, Jessie? Don't you ever get enough? You ought to have yourself castrated!"
"Please, Hester!"
"Oh, all right, all right, you disgusting little degenerate!"
CHAPTER 15
Six weeks went by with Monty visiting me regularly, and week by week I found myself sinking deeper into the fatal fascination of the sexual perversion into which he had initiated me. I do not think he was responsible for the unnatural desire which was now dominating me, I think he was merely the casual and accidental medium through which existing but dormant instincts were, aroused.
Like the Succubus of ancient Rome my sexual desires were now almost entirely concentrated in this one act. My inclinations for other forms of gratification were diminishing. Normal intercourse was only an aphrodisiacal irritant if it were not followed by cocksucking. I still masturbated to calm my nerves, but it was always with fellatio pictured in my mind as I realized the act.
In my hours of passion I felt an actual physical hunger for the spermatic nectar. It was as though it contained some vital, sustaining element necessary to my health and well-being, and the first taste as I perceived its saline presence in my mouth precipitated the wildest sexual frenzy. When it came pouring into my throat my own organism responded instantly, without mechanical stimulation of any kind. I no longer tried to spit it out as the hot waves laved my tongue; I drank it avidly, hungrily.
It is said that the cocksucking instinct is the heritage of children whose mothers, while in an advanced stage of pregnancy, and because of the discomfort or danger of normal intercourse while in this condition, have themselves resorted to fellatio, thereby afflicting the unborn child with the unnatural desire. Whether there is any scientific foundation for this theory, or whether it is mere superstition I do not know, but I feel certain, with respect to myself, that the instinct was inherent and not artificially created.
Without any special guidance, refinements and perfections of the art constitute in part its irresistible allure and enravish the masculine senses. Gently, softly and slowly realized, an orgasm effected in this manner sent the recipient, with few exceptions, into the seventh heaven of rapture. A soft, even suction, alternated with the teasing caress of an active tongue playing over the head and around the, neck of the pulsing glans, supplemented with a slight up and down movement of the mouth soon had the object of these felicities groaning with erotic ecstasy.
If the subject was slow to reach orgasm, a more intense excitation could be induced by the use of the hand in addition. No normal man in a healthy sexual condition could long resist the luscious combination of gentle fingers and warm, wet, sucking lips.
As the untouched chords of a harp vibrate in harmony with those which are giving forth their tremulous melody, so did my own organism yield up its store of passion, an echo to the very paroxysm I provoked in another.
To Monty's manifest satisfaction the unique method of awakening him in the morning which I have previously related became a definite part of our erotic program. I looked forward to it with a pleasant glow of anticipation, and the thought, implanted in my mind, caused me to wake earlier than I would otherwise have done.
He was a man of unusual virile potency whose sexual vigour reestablished itself quickly, even after the most enervating exhaustion, and he always had an erection when I woke up. Slyly, cautiously, inspired with a prurient fancy to see how far I could get with it before he woke up, I bent my head over the succulent fruit. But in a few minutes my cautious, discreet restraint gave way to more energetic movements as my own passions took the ascendancy. And as soon-as this happened, instead of a sleeping subject, I had one who was very much awake indeed.