Lord Rodney and the other gentleman very much enjoyed the scene, handling his p — k and putting it in for them, his lordship making some very learned remarks on the capability of the female organ to accommodate itself to the biggest p — ks, as he saw how easily the women managed to take in all King Cuntaboo could give, notwithstanding its enormous size.
Mr. Verney did not appear a bit jealous, but, finding our Polly so well supplied with gallants, his visits gradually became more and more rare, till at length finding she was quite capable of taking care of herself, he kept away altogether.
She was such a favourite that in a few months she saved enough money to furnish a house for herself, and was so clever in her profession, as well as select in her circle, that
she became one of the most fashionable and expensive bits about town. Noted for the extraordinary versatility of her ideas, every visitor to her cosmopolitan boudoir went away delighted.
An incident in the experience of the erst barmaid will fitly conclude this tale of her amorous adventures.
Taking a walk early one summer's morning she entered Kensington Gardens and sat down by herself on a chair in a rather secluded spot, closing her eyes as various pleasant reveries floated before her vision.
"What a lovely leg! Alas! Get thee hence, Satan!" she heard ejaculated in low trembling tones, and suddenly opening her eyes, fixed them on an elderly gentleman, whom she at once recognized as a particularly pious Earl.
"Excuse me, young lady, I really thought you were asleep; may I present you with a little tract, it will show what dangerous temptations we men are subject to from the attitudes or coquettish dress of the pretty girls of the present day — do read it!"
She held out her hand and glanced her eye over its contents — as follows:
"Young women, your dress is often the creator of your thoughts and feelings. When modesty has presided at your toilette, the looks of men have neither the boldness nor the fire of desire. Kept within the limits of discretion and respect, they do not offer to your imagination the always tempting image of pleasure — and your sensibility remains in a calm, favourable to your virtue. A dress, calculated to inflame the passions of men, produces a contrary effect. Their countenances tell you soon what you ought not to be told. Why do you blush if you do not understand their language? How could you blush if that language did not force in your heart a sentiment it is not decent for you to indulge? When you are in a dishabille, that half conceals and half discovers your charms, you generally avoid the company of men. Is it virtue or fear that makes you so cautious? It is fear! You are conscious that, in those circumstances, men have over your virtue an advantage, of which all your prudence might not deprive them. Should Nature happen to be silent, vanity would speak, and bring the same rapturous confusion into your heads.
The transports of a lover are so flattering-his admiration is so eloquent a praise of our charms — there is such a life in his looks and actions — we are, in our hearts, so inclined to let him praise and admire. Young women, I say it again, sip not in the intoxicating cup, turn your sight from it, in your flight only you can find your safety."
Her face flushed with indignation.
"Now, sir, where's one of the park-keepers? I intend to give you in charge for an indecent assault — you whoremongering, religious hypocrite. Now, which will you do, be locked up, or come with me to my house, where for a?20 note you shall have such pleasure as you seem quite unacquainted with."
His face turned white and red, and his knees fairly shook under him, as he stammered — "The sight of your leg quite upset me. I am so sorry if that tract has offended you; you must excuse me, I wouldn't be seen in your company; my reputation would be blasted for ever."
Then turning to go, but Polly almost brought him on his marrowbones, as she seized him by the arm, and hissed in his ear — "Where you go, I go — is it to be the police station or to my house? Expect no pity or respect for a hypocrite's reputation — what do I care for that after your gratuitous insult!"
The poor old man was lost, and making the best of a bad situation, elected, as a sensible man would do, to go along with the beautiful whore.
So finding him submissive she told him he could hold his handkerchief to his face if ashamed to be seen walking arm and arm with her.
They walked out of the park, and hailing a cab were soon driven to her pretty little house, but not before the pressures of her electrical fingers had already raised a cock-stand for the old man, who sighed and protested in vain against such wickedness.
However, Earl Goodman sensibly recovered himself as soon as the retreat of love was reached, and he felt safe from observation in Polly's elegant and luxurious boudoir. It
was amusing to her to watch the variations of his face as picking up a decidedly naughty book he eagerly scanned its contents, at first his withered face flushed a little, then his eyes fairly started from his head, and she could actually see his old cock stiffening again in his trousers.
"That is the kind of book to warm up your blood," said Polly. "You seem to relish that kind of literature, my lord?"
"Humph! Awfully disgusting! How such ideas could be evoked from the human brain I can't understand — it's ruin to body and soul to read such suggestive filth!"
"There's no filth in the Bible you pretend to love so, is there?" asked Polly. "But how about Lot, Abraham, David and Bathsheba, Rachel, or Tamar, who played the harlot with Judah, Solomon and all his wives — besides, you know as well as I do, bawdy books don't drive religious people mad, or out of their minds in any way; used properly they act as a stimulant to the natural pleasures of love!"
Here she gave a quiet double ring, and a very young girl, hardly yet twelve years of age, presently entered as naked as she was born (not even yet fledged on her fanny) carrying a bottle of fizz and glasses on a tray.
"Oh! Satan! God help me! Not a drop, let me get out of this den of temptation. I'll write a cheque for the?20 — do let me go!" as he noticed quite a stern smile on Polly's face.
"Another insult, my lord — call Saunders and Ruth," said Polly, turning to the girl — "they will know what is wanted."
Earl Goodman fairly shook with fear, and trembled with fright as the cook and housemaid, entering their mistress's apartment, seized him like a child, and tearing down his trousers regularly spread-eagled him on a sofa.
"What are you going to do? Oh! heavens, she's going to birch me."
"That I am, and two gentlemen will see it all from behind a screen. When your impudent backside has smarted enough I will accept your apologies and the cheque — but not for a paltry?20, mind — I don't birch an Earl for less than half-ahundred."
He whined and begged for mercy, fairly screaming every now and then as the twigs cut into his tough skinny buttocks.
Polly was too clever, and enjoyed her profitable joke so much that she fairly wealed his rump, till the small drops of blood stood like beads on the broken skin; one of the girls was frigging him all the time till he spent under the extraordinary excitements he was so unused to.
At length Polly made him kneel in front of her, kiss the worn-out rod, and promise never to offend a lady again by offering objectionable tracts, and also to call and see her now and then on the quiet.
"My balance is awfully low; the late May meetings at Exeter Hall have quite drained my resources, and rents are so difficult to get in," he almost groaned, as taking out her desk she made him write a cheque on a blank sheet of note paper with a penny stamp.
"Thanks," said Polly, "I'll take a cab and cash it as soon as you're gone."
"Oh! pray don't go for it yourself, you might be known; send in some friend to the bank whilst you wait outside.