{"id":1490,"date":"2022-08-21T17:10:58","date_gmt":"2022-08-21T17:10:58","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/?page_id=1490"},"modified":"2022-09-13T17:22:41","modified_gmt":"2022-09-13T17:22:41","slug":"volume-four-chapter-seven","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/?page_id=1490","title":{"rendered":"Volume Four Chapter Seven"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t<div data-elementor-type=\"wp-page\" data-elementor-id=\"1490\" class=\"elementor elementor-1490\" data-elementor-settings=\"[]\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-section-wrap\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<section class=\"elementor-section elementor-top-section elementor-element elementor-element-492ac90 elementor-section-boxed elementor-section-height-default elementor-section-height-default\" data-id=\"492ac90\" data-element_type=\"section\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-container elementor-column-gap-default\">\n\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-column elementor-col-50 elementor-top-column elementor-element elementor-element-1d15f18\" data-id=\"1d15f18\" data-element_type=\"column\">\n\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-widget-wrap elementor-element-populated\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-element elementor-element-6f7bfa4 elementor-widget elementor-widget-html\" data-id=\"6f7bfa4\" data-element_type=\"widget\" data-widget_type=\"html.default\">\n\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-widget-container\">\n\t\t\t<iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"https:\/\/open.spotify.com\/embed\/album\/1Wg5CfuOfjRgVUgkae8sFK\" width=\"300\" height=\"380\" frameborder=\"0\" allowtransparency=\"true\" allow=\"encrypted-media\"><\/iframe>\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-column elementor-col-50 elementor-top-column elementor-element elementor-element-567e260\" data-id=\"567e260\" data-element_type=\"column\">\n\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-widget-wrap elementor-element-populated\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-element elementor-element-3c59360 elementor-widget elementor-widget-html\" data-id=\"3c59360\" data-element_type=\"widget\" data-widget_type=\"html.default\">\n\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-widget-container\">\n\t\t\t<iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"https:\/\/open.spotify.com\/embed\/album\/1Wg5CfuOfjRgVUgkae8sFK\" width=\"300\" height=\"380\" frameborder=\"0\" allowtransparency=\"true\" allow=\"encrypted-media\"><\/iframe>\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t<section class=\"elementor-section elementor-top-section elementor-element elementor-element-1f994a9 elementor-section-boxed elementor-section-height-default elementor-section-height-default\" data-id=\"1f994a9\" data-element_type=\"section\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-container elementor-column-gap-default\">\n\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-column elementor-col-100 elementor-top-column elementor-element elementor-element-7ec4c0b\" data-id=\"7ec4c0b\" data-element_type=\"column\">\n\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-widget-wrap elementor-element-populated\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-element elementor-element-2475048 elementor-widget elementor-widget-text-editor\" data-id=\"2475048\" data-element_type=\"widget\" data-widget_type=\"text-editor.default\">\n\t\t\t\t<div class=\"elementor-widget-container\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<div style=\"box-sizing: inherit;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit; width: 1083px;\"><main style=\"box-sizing: inherit;\"><article style=\"box-sizing: inherit;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit;\" data-elementor-type=\"wp-page\" data-elementor-id=\"2790\" data-elementor-settings=\"[]\"><div><section data-id=\"8ec4acc\" data-element_type=\"section\"><div><div style=\"width: 1083px;\" data-id=\"73d68ae\" data-element_type=\"column\"><div style=\"width: 1083px;\"><div style=\"width: 1063px; text-align: center; color: #591414; font-family: Georgia, sans-serif;\" data-id=\"1002a29\" data-element_type=\"widget\" data-widget_type=\"text-editor.default\"><div><div title=\"Page 688\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\"><b>VOLUME 4 CHAPTER 7<\/b><\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\"><i>A big maid-servant. \u2022 A peep up from below. \u2022 Home late, dusty and stupid. \u2022 Chastity suspected. \u2022 Consequences. \u2022 Dismissed. \u2022 My sympathy. \u2022 The soldier lover. \u2022 Going to supper. \u2022 At the Cafe\u0301 de l\u2019E*r**e. \u2022 In the cab returning. \u2022 Wet feet. \u2022 On the seat. \u2022 Mutual grasping and gropings.<\/i><\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">I have forgotten to say that I had been again much better off, but by extravagance had to draw in, and now lived in a larger house, but kept only three servants. During the latter part of the time of my liaison with Mrs. Y***s***e we had for a month or so but one servant. A charwoman came to do rough work; but why this temporary arrangement took place need not be told.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">She was a big country woman quite five feet ten high, and speaking with a strong provincial accent. When she was alone in the house I used to cross the streets to see her kneel, and clean the door-steps. She had such a big arm, and her bum looked so huge that I wondered how much was flesh, and how much petticoats. She cleaned the windows on the ground- floor, which in the house I then inhabited were got at by an iron balcony with open bars beneath. Seeing her cleaning them one day I went stealthily to the kitchen, and then into the area, and peeping cautiously up her petticoats, saw her legs to her knees. They were big and suited to her buttocks; but though the sight pleased me much, I never thought of having her, for I avoided women in my own house and neighbourhood. She was plain-faced, sleepy, and stupid-looking; the only thing about her nice, was bright rosy flesh. She looked solid all over. Her hair was a darkish chestnut colour, her eyes darkish, and one day she lifted a table as heavy as herself. There was not the slightest amorousness in her face or manner, and she dressed like a well-to-do country woman. Give her lots of nice, good, white underclothing; it was better than a sham outside, I heard she had said. She was about twenty-two years old, but she looked older.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">About two months after she came (and just then when without other servants), on arriving home one Sunday night at about ten o\u2019clock, I found she had been allowed to go out as usual, but had not returned. An<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">other hour crept on. Savage, I thought of locking her out. About half-past eleven she returned. I let her in, and asked why she was so late. She looked dazed, muddled, had a very red face, muttered she was sorry, she had fallen down and hurt herself, and without waiting to answer me properly went downstairs. My wife went after her, and when she came up, told me she thought she was in drink, and that her dress and bon-net were covered with dust. \u201cShe had been up to some tricks with a man,\u201d said she.<\/span><\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><div title=\"Page 689\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">Next day I heard she had told as an excuse, that as she was walking along a lane up which she turned to piddle, a man laid hold of her, and had taken liberties with her; that in the scuffle she had fallen down, had screamed, tried to catch him, had failed, and a lot more to similar effect. One or two days later I was told the woman had been dismissed. That I quite expected, for it was the mistress\u2019 custom to coax out the facts from poor devils in a kind way, and then to kick them out mercilessly; any suspicion of unchastity was enough for that. Middle-aged married women are always hard upon the young in matters of copulation.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">\u201cWhat is she going for? A few days ago she was so beautifully clean, strong, and serviceable that none were like her!\u201d \u201cOh! she has got a sweetheart, and is up to no good with him I\u2019m sure.\u201d \u201cHow do you know?\u201d \u201cShe told me so.\u201d \u201cIt\u2019s hard to dismiss on suspicion only, a poor girl who came up to us from the country.\u201d \u201cYou always take the part of those creatures.\u201d \u201cI know nothing for or against her, nor you.\u201d \u201cShe is no better than she ought to be. \u2014 I have noticed a soldier idling about here for some time past.\u201d \u201cAs you like, \u2014 it\u2019s your business \u2014 but she came to us with an excellent character.\u201d<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">I pitied the woman, but more than that from the time I heard that a man had assaulted her, a slightly lecherous feeling had come over me towards her. I wondered what he had done, \u2014 had he felt her? \u2014 had he fucked her? \u2014 had she ever been fucked before, even if the man had recently done it to her? I began looking closely at her, getting in the way on some pretext or another, and always wondering if this and that had been done. I looked at the broad backside, so broad that a prick must look a trifle by the side of it. \u201cHave the male balls banged up against it?\u201d I thought. When I heard of her being turned adrift I thought I would just like to have her once or so, and that her leaving us gave me a chance. Curiosity\u00a0<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">was I believe at the bottom of my desire for her, \u2014 it was her huge fleshy form, and that spanking arse. Oh! to look at it naked, and feel it, if I did nothing more.<\/span><\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><div title=\"Page 690\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">Finding the charwoman was not coming one day, and that the big servant would be a short time alone in the house, home I went; and on some pretext went down to the kitchen.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">\u201cSo you are going to leave us.\u201d \u201cYes sir.\u201d \u201cWhy?\u201d \u201cI\u2019m sure I don\u2019t know, \u2014 Missus says I don\u2019t suit, \u2014 yet only a few days ago she said I suited well.\u201d Here she broke into tears. I spoke kindly to her, said she would get another place soon, \u2014 she must take care not to go up dark lanes again with a man, nor go home late and dirty. She could not help it, \u2014 it was no fault of hers. What liberties did he take with her? I asked. The woman coloured up, and turning her head away, said he did what was very improper. \u201cDid he put his hands up your petticoats?\u201d \u201cWhat was very improper,\u201d she repeated. \u201cBut how did you get so dirty?\u201d They struggled, and she slipped. \u201cI wish I\u2019d been him, \u2014 I\u2019m sure when he felt, he got his hand close up, \u2014 I\u2019d give a sovereign to have mine there.\u201d That remark threw her into a distressing state of confusion.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">I talked on decently, alluding to what I thought had taken place, and wishing I had been the man; but got nothing from her excepting that the man had taken liberties with her, \u2014 yes most improper liberties.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">I told her I was sorry she was going, and thought she was hardly used, but I could not help it, \u2014 how was she off for money?<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">Very badly off, \u2014 she had come straight from the country to better herself, and had bought nice, good, underlinen, knowing she was coming to a gentleman\u2019s house, and now before she could turn herself round she was sent off. She had had to pay for each coach to London, and when she had her wages, and paid for a cab to lodgings, she would not have twenty shillings left. What was she to do if she could not get another place? Here the big woman blubbered, left off cleaning, sat down on a chair, and hid her face.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">\u201cDon\u2019t cry, you\u2019re used badly, \u2014 I\u2019ll give you a little money until you get a place, \u2014 it won\u2019t be long.\u201d \u201cYou\u2019re a good kind master,\u201d said she, \u201ceveryone says so, \u2014 but Missus is a beast, she ain\u2019t no good to any one, \u2014 I don\u2019t wonder you are out so much, and don\u2019t sleep with her.\u201d I gave a\u00a0<span style=\"font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit;\">kiss and a cuddle. \u201cWhat lovely limbs you have, \u2014 how firm your flesh is, \u2014 you are delicious, \u2014 I should like to sleep with you, \u2014 come into the lane with me, and tell me when you are going to piddle again, and let me take a liberty.\u201d<\/span><\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><div title=\"Page 691\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">\u201cWho told you I went up the lane?\u201d \u201cYour mistress,\u201d and then I left, telling her on no account to let it be known that I had been home.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">After this I heard that she had said it was a soldier. Now I knew that a soldier who took liberties with a woman, took no little ones, and generally got all he tried for; so made up my mind that she had been fucked on the night she came home late.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">A day or two after I was surprised with the following. \u201cI\u2019ve got another servant, \u2014 she will come the day after to-morrow, so I mean to send Sarah away at once, \u2014 of course she will be paid her month\u2019s wages, but I shall get rid of her, for I am sure she is an unchaste woman.\u201d \u201cPoor devil! \u2014 it\u2019s enough to make her unchaste, \u2014 but it\u2019s your business.\u201d \u201cAre you going out to-night?\u201d \u201cWhy?\u201d \u201cBecause if you are I\u2019m going round to my sister\u2019s.\u201d \u201cI am.\u201d \u2014 and off I went after dinner; but waited in a cab not far from the end of the street, watching to see if she really did go out. She did, and directly I spied her I drew myself back, and told cabby to follow her to the sister\u2019s house. Then I drove back part of the way, and went home.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">\u201cSo you are going?\u201d said I to the servant. \u201cYes, I\u2019m turned out, sir.\u201d \u201cA soldier and you went up a dark lane, \u2014 what a fool to tell your mistress.\u201d \u201cAh! she has told you, \u2014 what a bad un, she sneaked it out of me, \u2014 but I\u2019m not to blame, he is my sweetheart, and is going to marry me.\u201d \u201cHave you got lodgings?\u201d \u201cYes sir, I\u2019m going out to-morrow to see them, and I\u2019ve written telling my sister (a servant also, and she has taken them.\u201d \u201cWait for me when you go, and on no account say I\u2019ve been home, \u2014 I mean to help you, \u2014 you are badly used, \u2014 what can I do for you?\u201d \u201cIf you would help me to go to the Tower, \u2014 my young man\u2019s name is ***,<br \/>he is a Grenadier, \u2014 I\u2019ve written him, but he has not replied, and I want to know if he is there.\u201d \u201cI will wait for you to-morrow night outside, when you go to see the lodgings.\u201d A kiss, a hug, and out of my house I went again, after having ascertained where she was going to, and the time she was to go out.<\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><div title=\"Page 692\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">Next evening I waited outside her lodgings, she came in a cab with her box, and told me that her mistress had bundled her out. She had had nothing to eat since mid-day, and was sick and weary. \u201cMake haste then, \u2014 arrange your things, and we will go and have something to eat, and you shall see your soldier tomorrow.\u201d \u201cGod bless you, I do feel grateful sir,\u201d said she.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">In half an hour she came out. I did not know where better to go to, and knew that it was just the time when the place would be empty, so took her to the Cafe de l\u2019Europe in the Haymarket. It was a long drive, but I wanted to be with her in the dark cab. She was wonderfully struck with the place, but I was ashamed of being seen with her. She was anxious to go home early, because she lodged with poor people who went to bed early. She had never tasted. champagne, so I gave her some. Oh! her delight as she quaffed it, and oh! mine as I saw her drink it, \u2014 it was just what I wanted. \u201cA cock has been into her I am sure,\u201d I thought, \u201cso another can\u2019t do her much harm, \u2014 if she\u2019ll fuddle she\u2019ll feel and be felt, or fuck, or frig, they always go together,\u201d my old instructor in the ways of women used to say.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">I arranged to take her the next day to the Tower; our talk naturally was about the affair. \u201cHe did it to you,\u201d I said. She wouldn\u2019t or didn\u2019t see my meaning. \u201cI could not help it if he did, or what he did, \u2014 he took improper liberties.\u201d \u201cHe took them more than once, I\u2019ll bet!\u201d She did not like such joking, she remarked. All this was when we were going out to supper.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">Going home in the cab I began to say a baudy word to her. \u201cHe felt your cunt,\u201d said I, \u201cdid you feel his prick?\u201d She bounced up and hit her bonnet against the top of the cab. \u201cOh! my! sir,\u201d \u2014 but she kept on in her excitement, letting out bits of the history, saying at intervals, it was not her fault, \u2014 she was fuddled, \u2014fuddled with beer and gin, \u2014 a little fuddled her. I saw that pretty clearly from the effect of the champagne; and unbuttoned so as to have my prick handy. It was a wet night, the bottom of the cab was wet straw. \u201cMy feet are quite wet,\u201d said she. \u201cPut them on the seat, my dear.\u201d She did so; I felt them as if solicitous for her comfort, putting my hand higher than above her ankle, just to see if her ankles were wet also.<\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><div title=\"Page 693\"><div><div><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">\u201cWhy your ankles are wet.\u201d \u201cYes they are.\u201d With a sudden push up went my hand between her thighs, \u2014 a yell and a struggle, but I had felt the split before she dislodged my fingers. She was stronger than me, but my hands roved about her great limbs, searching under her petticoats round her huge backside. \u201cOh! don\u2019t, \u2014 you\u2019re a beast.\u201d \u201cOh! what a backside \u2014 what thighs! \u2014 what a lovely cunt I\u2019m sure you have! \u2014 let me keep my hand just on your knee, and I swear I won\u2019t put my hand higher.\u201d To ensure my keeping my hand there, she held my wrist as well as a vice would have done. She had by sheer force got it down to there.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">I pattered out all my lust, my desire to have her, incitements, and baudy compliments on her form. \u201cLet me fuck you.\u201d \u201cYou shan\u2019t.\u201d \u201cYou know what it means.\u201d \u201cI know what you mean.\u201d \u201cWhat harm could I do? \u2014 who would know?\u201d And then the old, old trick. Taking her great fist in mine, I put my stiff prick into it. What a persuader! Though she kept up a show of struggling she did not get it away from that article instantly.<\/p><p style=\"font-size: 16px;\">I suppose unless utterly distasteful to each other, that a man and woman cannot feel each other\u2019s privates, without experiencing reciprocal baudy emotions. They get tender to each other. The woman always does, after she has got over the first shock to her modesty, and her temporary anger. If after a man has felt her, a thermometer could be applied to her split, I believe it would be found to have risen considerably in temperature. After struggling and kissing, trying to feel her quim, trying to keep my hand on her thighs, it ended in our having our mouths together and my hand being pinched between her two thighs, whilst the knuckles of one of her hands, with sham reluctance touched my doodle, just as the cab reached her dwelling, and there we parted. All the rest of our conversation was about her soldier, her being dismissed, and is not worth writing.<\/p><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/section><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/article><\/main><\/div><\/div><\/div><footer style=\"box-sizing: inherit; background-image: linear-gradient(to right, #191919, #191919), url('https:\/\/darklanternentertainment.b-cdn.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/1.My-Earliest-Recollections-of-Things-Sexual.jpg'); background-repeat: repeat; background-position: center center; background-size: auto; background-attachment: scroll;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit; width: 1083px; background-image: linear-gradient(to right, #eeeeee, #eeeeee), url('https:\/\/darklanternentertainment.b-cdn.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/1.My-Earliest-Recollections-of-Things-Sexual-1.jpg'); background-repeat: repeat; background-position: center center; background-size: auto; background-attachment: scroll; min-height: 60px; color: #222222; font-family: Sancreek, sans-serif;\" data-section=\"section-above-footer-builder\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit; grid-template-columns: repeat(2, 1fr); align-items: flex-start; max-width: 1200px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit; align-items: flex-start;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit; width: 516.5px;\" data-section=\"section-footer-menu\">\u00a0<\/div><\/div><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit; align-items: flex-start;\">\u00a0<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit; width: 1083px; background-image: linear-gradient(to right, #191919, #191919), url('https:\/\/darklanternentertainment.b-cdn.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/1.My-Earliest-Recollections-of-Things-Sexual-1.jpg'); background-repeat: repeat; background-position: center center; background-size: auto; background-attachment: scroll; color: #222222; font-family: Sancreek, sans-serif; background-color: #ffffff;\" data-section=\"section-primary-footer-builder\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit; width: 1083px; margin-bottom: 10px;\" data-section=\"section-fb-html-1\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit;\"><div style=\"box-sizing: inherit; text-align: center; color: #d3d3d3;\">\u00a0<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/footer>\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>VOLUME 4 CHAPTER 7 A big maid-servant. \u2022 A peep up from below. \u2022 Home late, dusty and stupid. \u2022 Chastity suspected. \u2022 Consequences. \u2022 Dismissed. \u2022 My sympathy. \u2022 The soldier lover. \u2022 Going to supper. \u2022 At the Cafe\u0301 de l\u2019E*r**e. \u2022 In the cab returning. \u2022 Wet feet. \u2022 On the seat. &hellip;<\/p>\n<p class=\"read-more\"> <a class=\"\" href=\"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/?page_id=1490\"> <span class=\"screen-reader-text\">Volume Four Chapter Seven<\/span> Read More &raquo;<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-1490","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1490"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1490"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1490\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2341,"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1490\/revisions\/2341"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mysecretlife.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1490"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}