The Autobiography of a Flea, Told in a Hop, Skip and Jump, and...

Chapter 10

Ever since the meeting in the green lane with the rustic whose simplicity had so much interested her, Bella had dwelt upon the expressions he had used, and the extraordinary avowal of his parent’s complicity in his sensuality. It was clear that his mind was simple almost to idiocy, and from his remark; ‘Father’s not so clever as me,’ she assumed that the complaint was congenital, and wondered if the father really possessed the same, or—as declared by the boy—even greater proportions in his organs of generation.

I plainly saw, by her habit of thinking partly aloud, that Bella did not reckon upon her Uncle’s opinion, or stand any longer in fear of Father Ambrose. She was doubtless resolved to follow her own course, whatever it might be, and I was not, therefore, at all astonished when I found her wending her way the following day at about the same hour in the direction of the meadows.

In a field hard by the spot where she had beheld the sexual encounter between the horse and his mate, Bella discovered the lad engaged in some simple agricultural operation, and with him was another person, a tall and remarkably dark man, of about forty-five years of age.

Almost as soon as she saw them, the lad observed the young lady, and running towards her, after apparently a word of explanation with his companion, he showed his delight by a broad grin.

“That’s Father,” said he, pointing over his shoulder, “come and frig him.”

“For shame, you naughty boy,” said Bella, much more inclined to laugh than to be angry. “How dare you use such language ?”

“What did you come for?” asked the boy. “Did you come for a fuck?”

By this time they had reached the man, who stuck his spade into the ground, and began to grin at the girl in very much the same fashion as his son. He was strong and well built, and by his manner Bella could see the boy had told him the particulars of their first meeting.

“Look at Father, ain’t he a randy one?” remarked the youth. “Ah! You should see him fuck!”

There was no attempt at disguise; the two evidently understood each other and grinned more than ever. He seemed to accept it as a huge compliment, but he cast his eyes upon the delicate young lady, the like of whom he had probably never met before, and it was impossible to mistake the look of sensuous longing which shone in his large black eyes.

Bella began to wish she had never come.

“I should like to show you Father’s big dick,” said the lad and suiting the action to word, he commenced to unbutton the trousers of his respectable parent.

Bella covered her eyes, and made a movement in retreat. Instantly the son stepped behind her. Her refuge in the lane was thus cut off.

“I should like to fuck you,” exclaimed the Father, in a hoarse voice. “Tim would like to fuck you as well, so you must not go away yet. Stop and be fucked!”

Bella was really frightened.

“I cannot,” she said; “indeed you must let me go. You must not hold me like that: you must not drag me along; let me go. Where are you taking me?”

There was a small building in the corner of the field, and they were now at the door. Another second and the pair had pushed her inside and shut the door, lowering a large wooden bar across it afterwards as they entered.

Bella looked round and saw that the place was clean and half-filled with hay in trusses. She saw that resistance would be useless. It would be best to be quiet, and perhaps, after all, the strange pair would not hurt her. She noticed however, that the trousers of both stuck out in front, and doubted but that their ideas were in harmony with their excitement.

“I want you to see Father’s cock; my gum! You ought to see his big balls, too.”

Once more the lad began unbuttoning his father’s breeches. Down went the flap and out stuck his shirt with something under it, which caused it to bunch up in a curious manner.

“Oh, do hold still, Father,” whispered the son; “let the lady see your dick.”

With that he raised the shirt, and exposed in Bella’s face a fiercely erected member with a broad plum-like nut, very red and thick, but not of very unusual length. It had a considerable bend upwards, and the head, which divided down the middle by the tightness of the frenum, bent still further back towards his hairy belly. The shaft was immensely thick, rather flat and hugely swollen.

The girl felt her blood tingle as she looked upon it. The nut was as large as an egg—plump, and quite purple. It emitted a strong smell. The lad made her approach, and pressed her white, lady-like little hand upon it.

“Didn’t I tell you it was bigger than mine,” continued the boy, “look here; mine is not nearly as thick as Father’s.”

Bella turned. The boy had his trousers opened and his formidable penis in full view. He was right-it could not compare with his father’s for size.

The older of the two now caught her round the waist.

Tim also essayed to cling to her, and to get his hand under her clothes. Between them she swayed to and fro. A sudden push cast her upon the hay. Then up went her skirts. Bella’s dress was light and wide, she wore no drawers. No sooner did the two catch sight of her plump, white legs than they snorted again, and both threw themselves on her together. A struggle now ensued.

The Father, much heavier and stronger than the boy, got the advantage. His breeches were about his heels; his big, fat prick was out and wagged within three inches of her navel.

Bella opened her legs, she longed for a taste of it. She put down her hand. It was hot as fire, and as hard as a bar of iron.

Mistaking her intention, the man rudely withdrew her arm, and roughly helping himself, put the tip of his penis to the pink lips.

Bella opened her young parts all in her power, and with several forcible lunges the peasant got about halfway in. Here his excitement overcame him. He discharged violently, getting right up so a stream of very thick fluid spouted into her as he did so until the big nut lay against her womb, and he sent a great quantity of spunk into it.

“Eh, you are killing me,” cried the girl, half smothered, “what is all that you are pouring into me?”

“That’s the spunk; that’s what that is,” remarked Tim, as he bent down and watched the operation delightedly.

“Didn’t I tell you, he was a good ’un to fuck?”

Bella thought the man would now get off, and allow her to rise, but she was mistaken; the large member which was now crammed into her only seemed to grow more rigidly stiff, and to stretch her worse than ever.

Presently the peasant began to work himself up and down, pushing cruelly into Bella’s young parts at each descent. His enjoyment appeared to be extreme. The discharge which had already taken place caused his truncheon to slip in and out without difficulty, and made the soft region foam with the rapid movement.

Bella gradually became dreadfully excited. Her mouth opened, her legs went up and her hands were convulsively clenched on either side. She now favoured every effort and delighted to feel the fierce plunges with which the sensual fellow buried his reeking weapon in her young belly.

For a quarter of an hour the conflict raged on both sides.

Bella had discharged frequently, and was on the point of giving down a warm emission, when a furious squirt of spunk rushed from the man’s member and inundated the young lady’s parts.

The fellow then rose, and withdrawing his dripping prick, from which the last drops of his plentiful injection were still exuding, he stood moodily contemplating the panting figure he had released.

Still threatening stood his huge rammer in front of him, yet smoking from the warm sheath, Tim, with true filial, care, proceeded to wipe it tenderly and return it, pendant and swollen with its late excitement, within his father’s shirt and breeches.

This done, the lad began to cast sheep’s eyes on Bella, who still remained, slowly recovering herself upon the hay. Looking and feeling, Tim who met with no resistance, commenced to push his fingers about in the region of the young lady’s private parts.

The father now came forward, and taking his son’s weapon in his grasp, began to frig it up and down. It was already stiffly erected, and presented a formidable mass of flesh and muscle in Bella’s face.

“Goodness me. I hope you are not going to put that into me,” murmured Bella.

“I am, though,” answered the lad, with one of his silly grins. “Father frigs me, and I like it, and now I mean to fuck you.”

The father guided this splitter towards the girl’s thighs. Her slit, already swimming in the spunk which the peasant had thrown into it, quickly received the ruby nut. Tim gushed it in, and stooping over her, shoved in the long shaft, until his hairs rubbed Bella’s white skin.

“Oh, it’s dreadfully long,” cried she; “you are shockingly big, you naughty boy. Don’t be so violent. Oh you kill me! How you push. Oh! you can’t get in any further; pray be gentle; there, it’s quite up me. I can feel it up to my waist. Oh, Tim, you horrid, bad boy!”

“Give it to her,” muttered the father, who was feeling the lad’s balls, and tickling all round between his legs all the time. “She’ll take it. Tim. Ain’t she a beauty? What a tight little cunt she’s got, ain’t she, boy?”

“Ugh, don’t talk, Father, I can’t fuck.”

For some minutes there was silence, save for the noise of the two heaving, struggling bodies in the hay. After a while the boy stopped. His prick, though hard as iron and stiff as wax, had not apparently spent a drop. Presently, Tim pulled it right out, all smacking and glistening with juices.

“I can’t spend,” said he, mournfully.

“It’s the frigging,” explained the Father. “I frig him so often that he misses it now.’

Bella lay panting and all exposed.

The man now applied his hand to Tim’s cock, and began vigorously rubbing it up and down.

The girl expected every moment he would spend in her face.

After a while passed in thus further exciting his son, the father suddenly applied the burning nut to Bella’s slit, and as it passed up, a perfect deluge of sperm issued from it and flooded her interior. Tim set himself to work to writhe and struggle, and ended by biting her in the arm.

When this discharge had quite terminated, and the last throb had passed through the boy’s huge rammer, he slowly drew it out and let the girl rise.

They had no intention, however, to let her go, for after undoing the door, the boy looked cautiously round, and then replacing the wooden bar, turned to Bella.

“What fun, wasn’t it,” he remarked. “I told you Father was good at it, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did, indeed, but you must let me go now; do, there’s a good boy .”

A grin was the only response.

Bella looked towards the man, and what was her terror to see him in a state of nudity, all save his shirt and boots, and with an erection that threatened another and even fiercer assault upon her charms.

His member was literally livid with the tension and stuck up against his hairy belly. The head had swollen enormously with the previous irritation, and from its tip a glistening drop hung pendant.

“You’ll let me fuck you again,” enquired the man, as he caught the young lady by the waist and put her hand on his tool.

“I’ll try,” murmured Bella, and seeing there was no help for it, she suggested his sitting on the hay, while straddling across his knees, she tried to insert the mass of gristly flesh.

After a few heaves and pushes it went in, and a second course, no less violent than the first commenced. A full quarter of an hour elapsed. It was now apparently the elder who could not be brought to the point of emission.

‘How tiresome they are,’ thought Bella.

“Frig it, my dear,” said the man, withdrawing from her body his member, even harder than before.

Bella clasped it with both her small hands and worked it up and down. After a little of this excitement she stopped, and perceiving a small spurt of semen exude from the urethra, she quickly placed herself upon the huge pommel, and had hardly housed it before a flood of spunk rushed into her.

Bella rose and fell, thus pumping him, till all was finished, after which they let her go.

At length the day arrived, the eventful morning broke, when the beautiful Julia Delmont was to lose that coveted treasure which is so eagerly sought after on the one hand, and often so thoughtlessly thrown away upon the other.

It was still early when Bella heard her foot upon the stairs, and the two friends were no sooner united than a thousand pleasant subjects of prattle found their way into their talk, until Julia began to see that there was something which Bella was keeping back. In fact, her rapidity was simply a mask for the concealment of some piece of news which she was somewhat reluctant to break to her companion.

“I know you have something to tell me, Bella, there is something I have not heard yet which you have to tell me; what is it, darling?”

“Can’t you guess,” she said, with a wicked smile playing round the dimpling corners of her rosy lips.

“Is it anything about Father Ambrose?” asked Julia.

“Oh! I feel so dreadful and awkward, when I see him now, and yet he told me there was no harm in what he did.”

“No more there was, depend upon it; but what did he do?”

“Oh, more than ever. He told me such things, and then he put his arm round my waist, and kissed me, till he almost took my breath away.”

“And then,” suggested Bella. “How can I tell you, dearest! Oh, he said and did a thousand things, until I thought I was going out of my senses.”

“Tell me some of them at least.”

“Well, you know that, after he had kissed me so hard, he put his fingers down my dress, and then he played with my foot and my stocking, and then he slipped his hand up higher, until I thought I was going to faint.”

“Oh! you little wanton, I feel sure you liked his proceedings all the while.”

“Of course I did. How could I do otherwise? He made me feel as I had never felt in my life before.”

“Come, Julia, that was not all—he did not stop there, you know.”

“Oh no; of course he did not, but I cannot tell you this next proceeding.”

“Away with such childishness,” cried Bella, pretending to be piqued at her friend’s reticence. “Why not avow all to me?”

“If I must, I suppose there is no help for it, but it seemed so shocking, being all so new to me, and yet not wrong. After he had made me feel as if I was dying of a delicious shivering sensation, which his fingers produced, he suddenly took my hand in his and placed it upon something he had which felt like a child’s arm. He bid me clasp it tightly. I did as he directed me, and then looking down, I beheld a great red thing, all white skin and blue veins, with a funny, round purple top, like a plum. Well, I saw that this thing grew out from between his legs, and that it was covered below with a great mass of curly black hair.”

Julia hesitated.

“Go on,” said Bella.

“Well, he kept my hand upon it, making me rub it over and over, it was so large, and stiff, and hot!”

“No doubt it was under the excitement of such a little beauty .”

“Then he took my other hand and placed both together on his hairy thing. I felt so frightened when I saw how his eyes glared and his breathing grew hard and quick. He reassured me. He called me his dear child, and, rising, bade me fondle the stiff thing in my bosom. It stuck out close to my face.”

“Is that all?” asked Bella, persuasively.

“No, no, indeed it is not, but I feel so ashamed. Shall I go on? Is it right that I should divulge these things? Well then, after I had held this monster in my bosom a little time, during which it throbbed and pressed me with a warm delightful pressure, he asked me to kiss it. I complied at once. A warm sensuous smell arose from it, as I pressed my lips upon it. At his request I continued kissing it. He bade me open my lips and rub the top between them. A moisture came at once upon my tongue, and on an instant a thick gush of warm fluid ran into my mouth, and spurted over my face and hands.

I was still playing with it, when a noise of a door opening at the other end of the church obliged the good Father to put away what I had hold of- ‘For,’ he said, ‘it is not for the common people to know what you know, or to do what I permit you to do.’

His manner was so kind and obliging, and he made me think I was quite different to all the other girls. But tell me, Bella, dearest, what is the mysterious news you have to tell me? I am dying to know.”

“Answer me first, whether or not the good Ambrose told you of joys—of pleasures, derived from the object you trifled with, and whether he pointed out any means by which such delights could be indulged without sin?”

“Of course he did—he said that in certain cases such indulgence became a merit.”

“As in marriage, for instance, I suppose.”

“He said nothing about that, except that marriage often brought much misery, and that even marriage vows might, under certain circumstances, be broken advantageously.”

Bella smiled. She recollected to have heard somewhat the same strain of reasoning from the same sensual lips.

“Under what circumstances did he mean then that these joys were permitted?”

“Only when the mind was firmly set upon a good motive, beyond the actual indulgence itself, and that, he says, can only be, when some young girl, selected from others for the qualities of her mind, is dedicated to the relief of the servants of religion.”

“I see,” said Bella, “go on.”

“Then he said how good I was, and how meritorious it would be for me to exercise the privilege he endowed me with, and devote myself to the sensuous relief of himself and others, whose vows prevented them from either marrying or otherwise gratifying the feeling which nature has implanted in all men alike. But tell me, Bella, you have some news for me—I know you have.”

“Well, then, if I must—I must, I suppose. Know then, that good Father Ambrose has arranged that it will be best for you to be initiated at once, and he has provided for it here today.”

“Oh, me! You don’t say so! I shall be so ashamed, so dreadfully shy.”

“Oh, no, my dear, all that has been thought of. Only so good and considerate a man as our dear Confessor could have so perfectly arranged everything as he has done. It is designed that the dear man shall be able to enjoy all beauties your witching little self can afford him, while, to make a long matter short, he will neither see your face, nor you his.”

“You don’t say so! In the dark, then, I suppose?”

“By no means; that would be to forego all the pleasures of sight, and he would lose the rich treat of looking upon those delicious charms the dear man has set his heart upon possessing.”

“How you make me blush, Bella—but how, then, is it to be?”

“It will be quite light,” explained Bella, with the air of a mother to her child. “It will be in a nice little chamber we have; you will be laid upon a convenient couch, and your head will be passed through and concealed by a curtain, which so fills a doorway leading to an inner apartment that only your body, all naked to the view, will be exposed to your ardent assailant.”

“Oh, for shame! Naked, too!”

“Oh, Julia my dear, tender Julia,” murmured Bella, as a shudder of keen ecstatic feeling rushed through her, “what delights will be yours; how you will awake to the delicious joys of immortals and find, now that you have approached that period called puberty, the solaces which I know you already stand in need of.”

“Oh, don’t Bella, pray, don’t say that.”

“And when at length,” continued her companion, whose imagination had already led her into a reverie to which outward impressions were quite impervious, “when at length the struggle is over, the spasms arrive, and that great throbbing thing shoots out its viscid stream of maddening delight, oh! then she will join that rush of ecstasy, and give down her virgin exchange.”

“What are you murmuring about?”

Bella roused herself.

“I was thinking,” she said, dreamily, “of all the joys of which you are about to partake.”

“Oh, don’t,” Julia exclaimed, “you make me blush, when you say such dreadful things.”

Then followed a further conversation, in which many small matters had their place, and while it was in progress I found an opportunity to overhear another dialogue, quite as interesting to me, but of which I shall only furnish the summary for my readers.

It took place in the library, and occurred between Mr Delmont and Mr Verbouc. They had evidently understood each other on the main points at issue, which incredible as they may appear, were the surrender of Bella’s person to Mr Delmont in consideration for a certain round sum to be then and there paid down, and afterwards invested for the benefit of ‘his dear niece,’ by the indulgent Mr Verbouc.

Knave and sensualist as the man was, he could not quite bring himself to the perpetration of so nefarious a transaction without some small sop to stay the conscience of even so unscrupulous a being as himself.

“Yes,” said the good and yielding uncle, “the interests of my niece are paramount, my dear sir. A marriage is not unlikely hereafter, but the small indulgence you demand is, I think, well compensated for between us, as men of the world, you understand, purely as men of the world, by a sum sufficient to reward her for the loss of so fragile a possession.”

Here he laughed, principally because his matter-of-fact and dull-witted guest failed to understand him.

Thus it was settled, and there remained only the preliminaries to arrange. Mr Delmont was charmed, ravished out of his somewhat heavy and stolid indifference, when he was informed that the bargain was forthwith to be executed, and that he was to take possession of that delicious virginity he had so longed to destroy.

Meanwhile the good, dear, generous Father Ambrose had been some time in the house and had prepared the chamber where the sacrifice was to take place.

Here after a sumptuous breakfast, Mr Delmont found himself with only a door between him and the victim of his lust.

Who that victim was, he had not the remotest idea. He only thought of Bella.

The next moment he had turned the lock and entered the chamber, the gentle warmth of which refreshed and stimulated the sensual instincts about to be called into play.

Ye Gods! What a sight burst upon his enraptured vision. Straight before him, reclining upon a couch, and utterly naked, was the body of a young girl. A glance sufficed to demonstrate the fact that it was beautiful, but it would have taken several minutes to go over in detail and discover all the separate merits of each delicious limb and member.

The well-rounded limbs, child-like in their plump proportions; the delicate bosom just ripening into two of the choicest and whitest little hills of soft flesh; the roseate buds which tipped their summits; the blue veins which coursed and meandered here and there and showed through the pearly surface like little rivulets of sanguine fluid only to enhance the more dazzling whiteness of the skin.

And then, oh! then, the central spot of man’s desire, the rosy close-shut lips where nature loves to revel, whence she springs and whither she returns—‘la source’—it was there visible in its almost infantine perfection.

All indeed was there except—the head. That all important member was conspicuous by its absence, and yet the gentle undulations of the fair maiden plainly evidenced that she suffered no inconvenience by its non-appearance.

Mr Delmont exhibited no astonishment at this phenomenon. He had been prepared for it, and also enjoined to maintain the strictest silence. He therefore busied himself to observe and delight himself with such charms as were prepared for his enjoyment.

Meanwhile no sooner had he recovered from his surprise and emotion at the first view of so much naked beauty, than he found certain evidences of its effects upon those sensuous organs which so readily respond in men of his temperament to emotions calculated to produce them.

His member, hard and swollen, now stood out in his breeches and threatened to bust from its confinement. He, therefore, liberated it, and allowed a strong but gigantic weapon to spring into light, and rear its red head in presence of its prey.

Reader, I am only a flea. I have but limited powers of perception, and I fail in ability to describe the gentle gradations and soft creeping touches by which this enraptured ravisher approached his conquest. Revelling in his security, Mr Delmont ran his eyes and his hands over all. His fingers opened the delicate slit, over which as yet only a soft down had made its appearance, while the girl, feeling the intruder in her precincts, wriggled and twisted to avoid, with the coyness natural under the circumstances, his wanton touches.

But now he draws her to him; his hot lips press the soft belly—the tender and sensitive nipples of her young breasts. With eager hand he firmly seizes her swelling hip, and pulling her towards him, opens her white legs and plants himself between.

Reader, I have already remarked I am only a flea. Yet fleas have feelings, and what mine were I will not attempt to describe when I beheld that excited member brought close to the pouting lips of Julia’s moist slit. I closed my eyes; the sexual instincts of the male flea rose within me, and I longed—yes! how ardently I longed to be in Mr Delmont’s place.

Meanwhile steadily and sternly he proceeded in his work of demolition. With a sudden bound he essayed to penetrate the virgin parts of the young Julia. He fails—he tries again, and once more his baffled engine flew up and lay panting on the heaving belly of his victim.

During this trying period no doubt Julia must have spoilt the plot by an outcry more or less violent, but for a precaution adopted by that sage demoraliser and priest, Father Ambrose.

Julia had been drugged.

Once more Mr Delmont returned to the charge. He pushes, he forces forward, he stamps his feet upon the floor, he rages and he foams, and oh, God! the soft elastic barrier gives way and he goes in—in with a feeling of ecstatic triumph; in, until the pleasure of the tight and moist compression forces from his sealed lips a groan of pleasure. In, until his weapon, buried to the hair which covered his belly, lay throbbing and swelling yet harder and longer in its glove-like sheath.

Then followed a struggle no flea can describe—sighs of blissful and ravishing sensations escape his open slobbering lips, he pushes, he bends forward, his eyes turn up, his mouth opens, and, unable to prevent the rapid completion of his lustful pleasures, the strong man gasps out his soul, and with it a torrent of seminal fluid, which thrown well forward squirts into the womb of his own child.

All this time Ambrose had been a hidden spectator of the lustful drama, and Bella had operated on the other side of the curtain to prevent any approach to utterance on the part of her young visitor

This precaution was, however, unnecessary; for Julia, sufficiently recovered from the effects of the narcotic to feel the smart, had fainted.