Hellfire Club No. 4: From the Hidden Archives

By Catherine Rose

The Hellfire Club established in England in 1719 had as its motto: Fais ce que tu voudras (Do what thou wilt) as the underlying principle which the libertines and philosophers of the day fully enjoyed within the club walls. For centuries the Hellfire Club has shifted in time and place but remained an active part of educated society. The club has hosted the famous and the infamous but never altered the premise that freedom of choice to do what one will as long as that is done without harm is within the purview of humanity.
The collected works of erotica have been taken from the Hellfire Club Archives, edited and some cases re-written to replace text lost to time or rot. Each volume contains a collection of short stories from the 16th to the 19th centuries.
Volume 4 contains: Passionate Muriel (1935), Randiana (1884), Abish-Aq (1876), Stays and Gloves (1909), Sunumbra (1879), The Story of Harry Richman (1935).

• Language: English
• Publisher: Catherine Rose
• Release date: Nov 27, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310700200

Catherine Rose

Catherine Rose is the pen name for a perverted old lady that likes to write stories inspired by her earlier days which she very much misses. Granted anything involving monsters, aliens, and horror stories are pure fiction...the rest? Not so much..

Book preview

Abish-Aq pg. 102 Stays and Gloves pg. 115 Sunumbra pg.280

The Story of Harry Richman pg, 331

PASSIONATE MUREL

(1935)

I met Betty in the hall one day and told her of my mountings passionate feelings; she told me to try and endure it until evening, as she was in the same lustful state, and wanted me as I her.

That day was an age to me, I tried to read, but all I could see was Betty in the nude before me. I went for a walk and succeeded in seeing a careless woman

sitting on a porch with dresses raised and a clear view of her bare cunt, which sight made me feel worse.

At, last, evening came, and I on pretext of having a headache retired at nine o' clock. I was in

my room but a short time when the door opened softly and Betty slipped in locking it behind her.

She sprang into my frenzy arms and covered my face with kisses. I was in a mad frenzy of desire for her beautiful body and returned all of her hot caresses. I held her at arm’s length and carefully scrutinized her; she begged me to undress and setting example slipped out of her only garment, a dress.

I fairly tore the clothes from my body and as the last piece fell to the floor she again came to my arms, led her to the bed and setting on it, covered her with kisses from her head to her sweet smelling, mossy bower of love. I drank there until she begged me not to make her lose her first emission in my mouth, as she was saving it do homage to my cock.

I heeded this entreaty and rising took my bursting engine in my hand and directed it between her open thighs to that haven of delight, where those ivory colored columns meet; she parted her thighs wide for my entry and in three hearty lunges I was incased to my swelled, spunk filled globes. As she felt my member dig deep into her, she gave a satisfied sigh and met everything I had to give. I fell forward on her body and with short quick jabs I soon had her flowing freely.

I could only stand a very small bit of this, but if it had lasted an hour it would have been all too short a time; at last with a very long lunge I buried myself and the pent-up flood of my abstinence gushed into her, to her immense delight and satisfaction. I rolled off and lay panting beside her; she was also for the present helpless. At last recovering ourselves we

washed and lay side by side in each other arms.

We did not long remain idle, for as our mutual desires again called for satisfaction, I suggested a game of Sixty-nine. She readily agreed, and as I lay on my back she put her beautiful legs over my head and tongue was soon lost in the tight folds of her passionate little cunt; meanwhile she had greedily sucked in my throbbing cock; as we reached our climax we rolled over on the bed to enjoy a few hours of restful sleep.

Our joys were many in the future. But the time of parting as it always does with all such amicable couples. Betty came to my room one day and after our usual round of pleasure she told me that she had received a proposal of marriage, a lawyer from another city whom she had met some time ago had asked her hand. I told her that if she cared for him, by all means marry him. She answered that she wanted only me, but she knew how impossible it would be for us to carry on the rest of our lives as we were now, and that there was always the possibility of children to wreck our lives.

I told her to use her own' judgment but if she decided to stay I would do all that I could for her. I told her that if she thought she could learn to love this man, however, that it was a wonderful opportunity for her. She seemed to decide all of a sudden for she sat right down and wrote a letter of acceptance at once. The strange thing about it was that she sat on my lap with my hard cock in her cunt. She afterward took delight in this unseemly act and explained that she was going to try to think of me every time he touched her, try and make

believe it is me and that they are my touches.

It was only three weeks when I lost Betty forever, and it is needless to say I loved her with all my boyish heart and really hated to see her go. On the eve of her leaving we were together all night and such a night we had, every form of sexual gratification was indulged in. Every time my flesh became hard she would want it in another position or opening of her body; when it was in a dormant state she would suck and fondle it until it was hard. And through it all she did not wash her cunt but kept my cream there to try and impregnate her, she wanted a baby from me so she would be forced to remember me always.

I don't know how many times we flood each other, but I do know that she succeeded in her desire to get a child, and nine months later she gave birth to a boy that she claimed looked as much like me any-thing could.

After Betty left I missed her very much, not only her body and its uses but her sweet pleasing, personality, and the worst luck I could wish her was that she become very happy.

Allow me here to recall to mind some members of my family. After the school term of the year we moved to town, the girls came home and stayed.

Milly was not very long in getting a boy friend and we all saw very little of her. After being away from home all night, one momentous occasion, she came home and disclosed the fact that she was married, and asked the blessing of everyone.

We were all surprised at this but deed was done, so they were summarily blessed and to date

this family has increased to five mouths where there were two pretty girls and a strapping boy, and three are at this time rumors of, well—asked Milly.

A strange occurrence happened about a week after Betty left which I will relate to you. I was over visiting Frank one day and we were both seated in his room, there was a gentle tap on the door and at Frank's Come in, Martha, the cook, and the mother of Betty and Letty, entered. She asked Frank if she could speak to him, he asked her to come in and be seated and not to mind me as I knew so much of his affairs that a little more would not hurt anything.

She seemed embarrassed and clearing her throat said:"Mister Frank, I would like to speak to you about a very grave matter, a thing that has worried me for some time and it is my duty as a mother to talk over with you, it concerns as you now no doubt suspect my daughter, Leatrice. Now, please don’t make any excuses or interrupt me, I was young once and it was the result of a foolish act that near ruined my life, had it been any other man I would have been out on the world's hands with two children.

"I know that for quite a while you and Leatrice have been very intimate and that she spends almost every night here in your room, I would not mind this if you both were of the same race and if any- thing happened to her you could care for her, but that is hopeless. I ask you that even if you don't stop be careful and don't get her in a family way.

Frank promised all he could, and sensing a possible story he added."Martha, you said

something about nearly being on the hands of charity with two children, won't you tell us about it?"

Martha looked sheepish and answered, Mister Frank, I have never told anyone my story, even my mother, and sometimes it near drives me crazy; I have to tell it to someone, so, if you promise not to carry it further, I'll tell you an unhappy experience that turned for a while to make me the happiest person on earth, except for carrying the secret.

Until I was fifteen, I lived with my family in Berea, Kentucky. One day a lady came to my home and asked my mother a lot of questions and I heard mother tell her she would need the consent of my father. She must have done so that evening, for the next afternoon I was called in the house and presented to Mrs. Morris and told that I was going with her as her maid.

"I thought nothing of this except the adventure of traveling, and three days later we were on our way to Denver, Colorado.

"My position was personal maid to my mistress, a very beautiful woman of about thirty. It seemed she would not take an experienced maid, but always trained one to her own liking.

"Two years of routine work passed when she became ill of pneumonia and very quickly died. I was grief stricken, as she was not only an employer but a very good friend.

"Mr. Morris was prostrated with grief, and we all thought he would follow his wife if he didn't stop grieving; he lingered around for a month hovering between life and death, until at last he

showed signs of recovery. I sympathized with him, whenever he would mentioned his lost wife.

"Our mutual grief drew us close together. The only other servant was a cook, so we never met any- one in the house and were often alone in the library reading for hours. He would sometimes read aloud and I would do the same. He allowed me to read any of his many books which liberty I took advantage of, and soon I had acquired quite a self education.

"Day by day we understood each other better, and I was falling in love with this wonderful man. I would do anything to be near him, when he was away I worried about him. I was always fearful that something might happen to him. Had anyone accused me of this love I would have denied it, but, it was true as I later learned.

One day, about six months after Mrs. Morris ‘death, he came into the library highly elated about a business deal and proceeded to explain it, as he reached the climax of the tale he threw his arms about me and hugged me to him; as he did so he stopped talking and looking at me earnestly said: 'Martha, do you know you are a very pretty girl.

I laughed at this and felt somewhat embarrassed, he continued: 'If you were a few shades lighter, I could really fall in love with you.'

"He all (this while retained his arms about me; in-stead of making an effort to free myself, and knowing I was doing wrong, I just stood still, the feel of him sent thrill after thrill through my body, and for the first time love was really dawning on me, and I recognized it.

"As he held me close to him he drew my face to his and kissed me, I was in a paradise at this act, he led me to a couch and seating himself drew me to his side; his arms were again around me and fiercely, each kiss I returned. I did not realize where this would lead, but my first intimation was when his hand slipped into my dress and he started to fondle my breasts. As he touched the sensitive nipples a sensation of longing overcame me and I could feel the parts between my legs start to itch and burn.

"I asked him to stop, but, I suppose, in such a weak manner that he only covered my mouth with his and opened my waist and exposed my breasts to his gaze. He leaned over them and sucked at each nipple, this act sealed my doom, for from now on he could dome as he liked. I was just so much clay in his hands to be molded to his fancy.

"He arose and lay me on the couch and knelt by my side, covering my face, neck and breasts with hot kisses, which seemed to fire my very soul. His hands started their wanderings again and he was soon gently feeling my thighs. He did not hesitate there long and continued up until his long fingers were knocking for entry at my now moist and longing sex.

"He found his way in and at a cry of pain from me, he knew I was a virgin by the obstruction he en- countered there. When he felt this he became frantic and opening my thighs fell upon me. What happened next was lost to me in a series of stabbing pains. I could not help sobbing at his merciless attack on my virgin parts. I don't remember

anything but intense pain connected with this first indiscretion with my lover, but. from his actions and sighs he we having intense pleasure ravishing my person.

"As he finished, I was still in agony of excruciating pain. He arose and looked at me and told me to lie perfectly still. He left soon to return with water and towels and he bathed my poor, stretched, bleeding cunt, as he finished he leaned over and kissed it gently and asked me to rise; he helped me to my room.

"Even after this brutal rape my love for him was if anything stronger than ever; I blame it all on his abstinence and my virgin innocence that he acted as he did.

"I will not bore you with accounts of our meetings on occasions too numerous to mention, but let me tell you that after that first time, I did not have my usual monthly sickness until after my girls were born.

"When he saw this and my swelling, he swore he would provide for me and any of his children as long as he lived. He always kind and generous, and I now returned my love with the same intensity with which I gave it.

"We lived secretly as husband and wife until his death, which was a sad blow to me. He left me comfortably fixed for life and I think proved this by the wedding gift that I gave Beatrice.

Now Mr. Frank, if you will be careful of my baby, I will appreciate it very much.

The strange tale of Martha's was over; I curiously asked her some questions, "Did you ever

have any proposals of marriage?"

Yes, but my love for Charles always won out, I loved him and everything he did; I never missed an opportunity to show him my live. I would do everything I could to make him happy, as some of the thoughts of these things we did run through my mind I wish I could live them over again.

What, for instance? asked Frank.

She smiled and answered, "The way in which we fucked and sucked each other; every position you can imagine we used, and I had his cock in every opening of my body where it would fit.

I remember, one of our diversions was for him to lay his tool between my breasts and I would take the head of it in my mouth and sucked it as he worked it up and down. I held my breasts tight about him, As he became more excited I would allow more and more to enter my mouth, until I felt that he was about to come and then I would take all my mouth would hold and I would suck the sweet essence of his soul from him.

Her tale was now having an erotic effect on the three of us, and I suggested that she show us, using ourselves as models, some of their favorite games.

She laughed at this and after a bit of coaxing agreed, saying she had not been tempted so much since her lover's last appeasement of her hot nature.

I won't here try and tell of all things that transpired in that room that day, but we did have enjoyment to its fill and we did not cease until Frank and I both tasted joy at the three shrines of her body and had placed our liquid offerings into her mouth. Her

luscious cunt and her handsome tight ass-hole, all of which she enjoyed as much in taking as we did in giving, and when she did leave Frank and I both welcomed the sleep into which we fell.

THE END

Randiana or Excitable Tales

(1884)

Paris

Société des Bibliophiles, for the Delectation of the Amorous and the Instruction of the Amateur in the Year of the Excitement of the Sexes.

MDCCCXCVIII CHAPTER 1 A FIRST EXPERIENCE

Those of my readers who peruse the following pages and expect to find a pretty tale of surpassing interest, embellished with all the spice which fiction can suggest and a clever pen supply, will be egregiously mistaken, and had better close the volume at once. I am a plain matter-of-fact man, and relate only that which is strictly true, so that no matter how singular some of my statements may appear to those who have never passed through a similar experience, the avouchment that it is a compendium of pure fact may serve to increase the zest

with which I hope it may be read.

I was born some fifty years ago in the little town of H-, about seven miles from the sea, and was educated at the grammar school, an old foundation institute, almost as old as the town itself.

Up to the age of sixteen I had remained in perfect ignorance of all those little matters which careful parents are so anxious to conceal from their children; nor, indeed, should I then have had my mind enlarged had it not been for the playful instincts of my mother's housemaid, Emma, a strapping but comely wench of nineteen, who, confined to the house all the week and only allowed out for a few hours on Sunday, could find no vent for those passionate impulses which a well- fed, full-blooded girl of her years is bound to be subject to occasionally, and more especially after the menstrual period.

It was, I remember well, at one of these times that I was called early by my mother one morning and told to go and wake Emma up, as she had overslept herself, and the impression produced upon me as barefooted and in my nightshirt I stepped into the girl's room and caught her changing the linen bandage she had been wearing round her fanny was electrical.

'Good gracious, Emma,' I said, 'what is the matter?

You will bleed to death.' And in my anxiety to be of assistance, I tried to get hold of the rag where the dark crimson flood had saturated it worst.

In my haste my finger slipped in, rag and all, and my alarm was so great that had it not been for Emma laughing I believe I should have rushed downstairs and awakened the whole house.

'Don't you be a little fool, Master Jimmy,' said Emma, 'but come up tonight when your father and mother are both gone to bed, and I'll show you how it all occurred. I see you're quite ready to take a lesson,' she

added, grinning, for my natural instinct had supervened on my first panic, and my nightshirt was standing out as though a good old-fashioned tent pole were underneath.

I had been frequently chafed at school about the size of my penis, which was unnaturally large for a boy of my years, but I have since found that it was an hereditary gift in our family, my father and younger brothers all boasting instruments of enormous build.

I turned reluctantly to leave the bedroom, but found it impossible to analyze my feelings, which were tumultuous and strange.

I had caught sight of a little bush of hair on the bottom of Emma's belly, and it perplexed me exceedingly.

Impelled by an impulse I could not then comprehend, but which is understandable enough now, I threw myself into Emma's arms and kissed her with fond ardor, my hands resting on two milk-white globes which peeped above the edge of her chemise. Just then I heard my mother's voice-

'James, what are you doing up there?'

'Nothing, mamma; I was only waking Emma up.' And I came downstairs hurriedly, with my boy's brain on fire and longing for the night, which might, I thought, make plain to me all this mystery.

That day at school appeared a dream and the time hung heavily; I went mechanically through my lessons, but seemed dazed and thoughtful; indeed so much so that I was the subject of general remark.

One of the boys, Thompson, the dull boy of the class, who was nearly seventeen, came to me after school was over and enquired what was the matter.

I suddenly resolved to ask Thompson; he was my senior and might know. 'Can you tell me,' I said, 'the difference between a boy and a girl?'

This was too much for Thompson, who began to

split with uncontrollable laughter.

'Good God, Clinton,' he said (he swore horribly), 'what a question. But I forgot you have only one sister, and she's in long clothes.'

'Well,' I replied, 'but what has that to do with it?' 'Why, everything,' said Thompson, 'if you'd been

brought up among girls you'd have seen all they've got, and then you'd be as wise as other boys. Look here,' suddenly stopping and taking out a piece of slate pencil, 'you see this?' And he drew a very good imitation of a man's prick upon his slate. 'Do you know what that is?'

'Of course I do,' I said, 'haven't I got one!'

'I hope so,' replied Thompson with a smartness I hadn't up to that time thought him to possess.

'Well, now look at this.' And he drew what appeared to me at the time to be a lengthy slit. 'Do you know what that is?'

After what I had seen in the morning I could form a shrewd guess, but I feigned complete ignorance to draw Thompson out.

'Why, that's a woman's cunt, you simpleton,' observed my schoolmate, 'and if you ever have a chance of getting hold of one, grab it, my boy, and don't be long before you fill it with what God Almighty has given you,' and he ran away and left me.

I was more astonished than ever. I had lived sixteen years in the world and had learned more since six o'clock that morning than in all the preceding time.

The reader may be assured that, although I had to go to bed tolerably early, I kept awake until I heard my father and mother safely in their room.

My mother always made it a special point to come and see that I had not thrown the covers off, as I was a restless sleeper, and on this occasion I impatiently awaited the usual scrutiny.

After carefully tucking me in I watched her final

departure with beating heart, and heard her say to my father as the door closed-

'He was covered tonight; last evening he was a perfect sight, his prick standing up as stiff and straight as yours ever did-and such a size, too: I can't imagine where my boys get them from. You are no pigmy, dear, it is true, but I'm sure my brothers as boys were -' And I lost the rest of the sentence as the door closed.

Now, I thought, is about the right moment, and I slid softly out of bed and across the landing to the staircase which was to lead me to heaven.

How often since then have I likened that happy staircase to the ladder which Jacob dreamed of. I've always considered that dream an allegory: Jacob's angels must have worn petticoats or some Eastern

equivalent, and the Patriarch doubtless moistened the sands of Bethel thinking about it in his sleep.

CHAPTER 2

I ASCERTAIN THE MEANING OF REAL JAM

I reached her bedroom door without mishap and found her safely ensconced in bed, but with the candle still burning.

'Come here, dear,' she said, throwing back the covers, and for the first time in my life I saw a perfectly naked woman. She had purposely left off her chemise and was stretched out there, a repast for the Gods.

I do not know that, with all my experience of Paphian delicacies since, I ever have viewed any skin more closely resembling the soft peach bloom which is the acme of coetaneous beauty.

Her plump breasts stood out as though chiseled by some cunning sculptor, but my eyes were not enchained by them. They wandered lower to that spot which to me was such a curious problem, and I said-

'May I look?'

She laughed, and opening her legs, answered me without saying a word. I examined it closely, and was more and more puzzled.

Her menses had passed and she had carefully washed away the stains.

'Put your finger in,' she said, 'it won't bite you; but haven't you really, Master Jimmy, ever seen one of these things before?'

I assured her that I had not.

'Then in that case,' said Emma, 'I shall have some virgin spoil tonight.' And passing her hand under my nightshirt, she took hold of my prick with a quick movement that surprised me, and although it was proudly erect and seemed ready to burst, she worked it up and down between her thumb and forefinger till I was fairly maddened.

'Oh! for God's sake,' I murmured, 'don't do that, I shall die.'

'Not yet, my darling,' she said, taking hold of me and lifting me, for she was a girl of enormous muscular power, on top of her. 'Not until I have eased my own pain and yours too.'

Emma called passion pain, and I have since proved her to be some sort of a philosopher. I have carefully analyzed that terrible feeling which immediately precedes the act of emission, and find pain the only proper word to express it.

I struggled with her at first, for in my innocence I scarcely knew what to make of her rapid action, but I had not long to remain in doubt.

Holding my prick in her left hand and gently easing back the prepuce, which had long since broken its ligature, though through no self-indulgence on my part, she brought it within the lips of her orifice, and then with a quick jerk which I have since thought was almost

professional, I found myself buried to the extreme hilt in a sea of bliss.

I instinctively found myself moving up and down with the regular see-saw motion that friction will unconsciously compel, but I need not have moved, for Emma could have managed the whole business herself.

The movement of her hips and her hands, which firmly grasped the cheeks of my fat young arse, soon produced the desired result, and in my ecstasy I nearly fainted.

At first I thought that blood in a large quantity had passed from me and I whispered to Emma that the sheets would be stained red, and then Mamma would know, but she soon quieted my fears.

'What an extraordinary prick you have, Master James, for one so young. Why it's bigger than your father's.'

'How do you know that?' I asked, surprised more than ever.

'Well, my dear, that would be telling,' she said, 'but now that you have tried what a woman is like, what do you think of it?'

'I think it's simply splendid,' was my response; and indeed, although long years of varied experience may have dulled the wild ardor of youth, and a fuck is hardly the mad excitement which it was, I should find it difficult to improve upon the answer I gave to Emma.

Twice more I essayed valiantly to escalade the fortress of my inamorata, and each time she expressed astonishment to think a mere child should have such 'grit' in him.

All at once I heard a slight noise on the stairs, and thinking it was my mother, hastily slunk under the bed; the candle was still burning.

'Are you asleep, Emma?' whispered a low voice. It was my father's.

'Lor', sir,' she said, 'I hope the missus didn't hear you coming up. I thought you said it was to be tomorrow.'

'I did,' replied my father, 'but to tell you the truth I couldn't wait. I put a drop of laudanum in your mistress's glass of grog just before retiring, so she's safe enough.'

And this man called himself my father? I need scarcely say I lost all my respect for him from that moment.

Not another word was passed, but peeping from my hiding-place I saw by the shadow on the wall that my father was preparing for immediate action, yet he went about it a very different way from me.

He insisted upon her taking his penis into her mouth, which at first she refused, but after some little solicitation and a promise that she should go to the 'fairing' which was to be held on the following Friday, she finally consented, and to see my father's shadow wriggling about on the wall while his arse described all manner of strange and to me unnatural contortions, was a sight that even at this distance of time never fails to raise a smile whenever I think of it.

Presently the old man shouted out, 'Hold on, Emma, that's enough, let's put it in now.'

But Emma was shrewd; she knew what a frightfully drowned-out condition her fanny was in and felt sure my father, with his experience, would smell a rat, so she held on to his tool with her teeth and refused to let go till my father, between passion and pain, forced it away from her. But judge of his disgust when he found himself spending before he could reach the seat of bliss.

His curses took my breath away.

'You silly bitch,' he said, 'you might have known I couldn't stand that long,' and still muttering despondent oaths, he got out of bed to make water.

Now unfortunately the chamber pot was