Memoirs of Fanny Hill: A New and Genuine Edition from the Original Text (London, 1749)Cleland, John
General
Memoirs of Fanny Hill: A New and Genuine Edition from the Original Text (London, 1749)
Cleland, John
England -- Fiction; Erotic fiction; Prostitutes -- Fiction
Next we took from the side of the room a long broad bench, made easy to
lie at length on by a soft cushion in a callico-cover; and everything
being now ready, he took his coat and waistcoat off; and at his motion
and desire, I unbuttoned his breeches, and rolling up his shirt rather
above his waist, tucked it on securely there; when directing naturally
my eyes to that humoursone master-movement, in whose favour all these
dispositions were making, it seemed almost shrunk into his body, scarce
showing its tip above the sprout of hairy curls that clothed those
parts, as you may have-seen a wren peeping its head out of the grass.
Stooping them to untie his garters, he gave them to me for the use of
tying him down to the legs of the bench: a circumstance no farther
necessary than, as I suppose, it made part of the humour of the thing,
since he prescribed it to himself, amongst the rest of the ceremonial.
I led him then to the bench, and according to my cue, played at forcing
him to lie down: which, after-some little show of reluctance, for
form-sake, he submitted to; he was straightway extended flat upon his:
belly, on the bench, with a pillow under his face; and as he thus
tamely lay, I tied him slightly hand and feet, to the legs of it; which
done, his shirt remaining trussed up over the small of his back, I drew
his breeches quite down to his knees; and now he lay, in all the
fairest, broadest display of that part of the back-view; in which a
pair of chubby, smooth-cheeked and passing white posteriors rose
cushioning upwards from two stout, fleshful thighs, and ending their
cleft, or separation by an union at the small of the back, presented a
bold mark, that swelled, as it were, to meet the scourge.
Seizing now one of the rods, I stood over him, and according to his
direction, gave him in one breath, ten lashes with much good-will, and
the utmost nerve and vigour of arm that I could put to them, so as to
make those fleshy orbs quiver again under them; whilst he himself
seemed no more concerned, or to mind them, than a lobster would a
flea-bite. In the mean time, I view intently the effect of them, which
to me at last appeared surprisingly cruel: every lash had skimmed the
surface of those white cliffs, which they deeply reddened, and lapping
round the side of the furthermost from me, cut specially, into the
dimple of it, such livid weals, as the blood either spun out from, or
stood in large drops on; and, from some of the cuts, I picked out even
the splinters of the rod that had stuck in the skin. Nor was this raw
work to be wondered at, considering the greenness of the twigs and the
severity of the infliction, whilst the whole surface of the skin was so
smooth-stretched over the hard and firm pulp of flesh that filled it,
as to yield no play, or elusive swagging under the stroke: which
thereby took place the more plump, and cut into the quick.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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