My Secret Life

“Don't it give you pleasure?” After repeating that half-a-dozen times she said, “I don't know.” “Yes you do, — did you spend?” “I don't know what a girl's spending is”, said she. “Did my prick give you pleasure, — tell me Kitty?” At length she said yes, and she had never had pleasure with men before. (Two years afterwards she repeated that the first pleasure she ever had with a man was with me.) “Wash yourself.” “I'll wash when I go home.” “Wash now you little beast.” “What does it matter to you?” “Wash you little devil.” She washed carefully, and whilst doing so, “Piddle”, said I. “I can't abear to piddle before a man, what a funny man you are.” “Piddle my dear”, and the little dear piddled.

Wiping herself dry she stopped in the middle of the operation and asked, “Why wouldn't you have the other gal?” “What do you want me to have her for?” “She's very poor.” “What do you do with your money?” “Buy things to eat, — mother's very poor, we often ain't got enough to eat.” “Then you get a little money by being gay.” “I ain't gay I tell you.” “Well your friend is I suppose, and gets money.” “No she doesn't, — she isn't gay either, — no man ain't ever done it to her, she's such a foule, — but she would a come in to-day with you, she said she would, and she were just a comin when you sent her off, — she promised me, she'd let yer if you wanted, but she is a foule though.”

“I don't believe that.” “It's God's truth though, she ain't, she says she ain't; she knows what men want gals for, but she's never let any one, — I know she ain't, she is frightened.” “Have you looked at her cunt?” “Often”, said Kitty. “And she's looked at yours?” “Of course she has, — she lives over us I tell you, I go up to her, and she comes down to me when mother's out, — I wash her.” “You seem fend of washing.” “I likes things clean.” I thought for an instant, “It may be true, I should like to see her cunt if she's never been poked, — what object has this little lass in pressing this so?” Then said I, “Tell me the truth, and I'll give you another shilling, — don't lie, — I shall soon tell whether you're lying or not, and getting up”, “here is three and six (I had it on the mantle-piece), here's a shilling for her, and there is another. If you answer truly, I'll see you again; but I'll never see you again if I find you are making up lies,—come here.” And I sat down.

She came forward, I pulled her between my naked legs, her naked thighs met mine, her little cunt was close to my prick, I put my hand round her fat little bum, and looked her in the face, pressing her belly close to mine.”

“What do you want me to have her for?” “Only cos she's so poor, — why she only gets sixpence a day, —she works at sack-making, — oh ! isn't it hard !—and her hands if you seed em, are hard and brown, stained with the string, and what the works with, — mother wants me to work at them at home, but I won't—I tells her I'd run away first, — she is so little she can't carry the sacks home as other gals do; so a strong young woman who works at sacks carries them home for her, and charges her twopence for it, — they carries them home on the top of their heads; but she is too little, she is.” (At that time women worked at sack-making, and carried them home on their heads.)