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My Secret Life, by "Walter", is the memoir of a gentleman describing the author's sexual development and experiences in Victorian England. The work itself is enormous, amounting to over one million words, the eleven original volumes amounting to over 4,000 pages. The text has a frank discussion of sexual matters and other hidden aspects of Victorian life make it a rare and valuable social document. Enjoy.


Chapter XIV

Piddlings. • Posturings. • Breast and arm-pit • A turn over. • Used up. • Wanting a virgin. • Camille departs. • The Major’s opinion. • Camille returns. • Louise.

I have told the most novel fucking bouts I had with, or through Camille, excepting the final one; but should say that whatever women she got me I turned to her with pleasure again. Sometimes when I had one or two to amuse me, I used to give her the preference for the fuck, and she always had one of the gruellings, for she was very handsome, understood everything, was sensuousness itself, but not vulgar. When I had a fit of extra lewdness she got me other women. Of course she got profit out of all, a thing I knew nothing about then. Often I had no want but for her, and she used to strip herself, or dress just as I wished, put her body into some attitude, then lay and read the paper whilst I used to sit and read as well, looking up from time to time at her. Then I would put her in a new attitude, and go on so for a time; then would make her piss, catch it in the pot, piss at the same time in it, stick a dildo up her cunt, and have every variety of amusement I could think of. She was always willing, never in a hurry, never refused. A charming harlot.

Making her piss was a favorite amusement with me, I would keep her a whole day without doing it, so that

I might have a good long stream out of her when looking on. I ,was most curious about the way a cunt opened and shut in squatting. It was the subject of my earnest investigation. I used to put two chairs so that they would not slip, nearly close together, and lay down with my head between them. Then Camille naked all but boots and stockings would stand up on the chairs, one foot on each; the legs naturally a little open as the chairs were a little apart, just disclosed the cunt. Then she would sit down slowly, so that I could gradually see the gap widen, the red nymphoe show, the clitoris jut out, and at length the whole cunt-gape ready for the piss. Then she would rise slowly and repeat it till I was tired; then still laying down I used to hold a large basin on my breast and belly, and squatting above my head she would piss into the basin. I would feel the cunt, and if very wet, dry it. In all this she was obedience itself; she never moved from one posture till I told her to get to another, would answer any question with frankness.

I have never lost this pleasure in seeing a woman piss, but at that time was too impatient to vary the amusements which a man and a woman can have with their piddle. It was reserved to me with other women, notably a French woman named Gabriell, and Sarah F — r, to have the fullest variety and enjoyment in that particular.

I had fucked Camille in every way excepting her arse-hole, I had spent between her bum-cheeks, but without the slightest intention of invading the bum-hole between them, — indeed then had a great dislike to looking at a woman’s arse-hole. At last fucked her arm-pits; she had a splendid arm, and an unusually large quantity of black hair beneath it which I much admired. One day she was poorly, I began fucking between her breasts, she suggested another woman, I would not have one; from her breasts I got to shoving between her arm and her breasts; then she wetted her arm-pit with Castile soap, which is of a soft slimy nature, and I fucked and spent between it. After a time we improved on this; she would lie in a convenient posture, I would lay a sheet of clean white paper on the bed, and just as I was coming, protrude the tip of my prick so as to free the pit, and shoot my spunk on to the sheet of white paper; or would catch the spunk in my own hand, and before my frensy of pleasure was over rub it on her cunt, then fling myself on the bed and go to sleep.

I used to have her at the side of the bed with her bum towards me; then she would gradually twist herself round, and cocking one leg over my head, get herself with her back on the bed without uneunting my prick. This had to be done very gradually, for a jerk, and my prick used to slip out. I used to bet with her about this, and she generally managed to twist round and win. “Now push, — keep it well in, — hold on, I am going to lift my leg”, she would cry at the difficult point, which was when she had got her bum sideways to me, and was about to lift her leg; then putting my hands well on her hips, I used to draw my belly to her, and prick into her, as tightly as I could, whilst she gradually raised a leg, and pressing her bum up to meet my pressure, gradually got on to her back, with her limbs in a natural easy posture on either side of my hips. By that time I had got steam well up, and a shove or two usually let me off.

At last having done as great a variety of ballocking, and learn more baudiness than most men of my age, I was knocked up, fucked out. My mother with whom I still nominally lived, was in despair. My guardian alarmed at the rate I was spending my money remonstrated, so I left Camille and her bevy of women, and went to the sea-side. There I renovated, and then spent my time on the sands, trying to see the women in the water. As I grew better my randiness returned, I got hold of gay women, but my old timidity clung to me, I used to pay them to piss, and had a grope up them; but do not recollect having anything more. I came back to London, and for two or three days afterwards Camille’s cunt had no rest. Then I temporarily got into another servant, and ceased to see Camille much. She tried all sorts of inducements to continue it on the old footing.

Then although she knew every incident of my life, she took to asking if I had ever had a virgin, saying, “Are you sure, did you see her cunt before you had her? Would you not like one again, if I can get you one, a young virgin French girl, one sure to be a virgin? —and so on until she made me doubt if I had ever had one. At last I thought that I should like to have another. Well, she could get me a young French girl, but would have to go to France, it would cost a large sum of money. This talk went on for some time, and little by little I agreed to give her fifty pounds to pay her journey, and also to keep her lodgings on. She postponed the journey for a long time, but at length she went. She made me promise to do something for the girl besides paying her, — which meant something or nothing, — but I promised to pay the journey of the virgin back to France, should she want to go; and also whenever I had the girl, to pay Camille a “Victoria”, “because”, said she, “you will have my rooms and prevent my bringing friends home.”

So I came down with fifty pounds. Off she went in quiet dress, and looked a quiet lady or middle-class woman. She advised me to keep myself steady, and the very moment before she left, whilst the cab was at the door, I turned her with bonnet and travelling dress on, bum outwards, and fucked her; she hurrying me all the time for fear she should loose the coach, she had not time to piss, or wipe or wash. “It will give me good fortune perhaps”, said she laughing, “or make you wish me back, it is lucky for me.”

There was but a slow rail to Dover then, nothing but tidal boats, and to Paris, the way I thought she was going, no rail at all, and it was a long journey. Whether she went to Paris or not I don’t know, but from later experience think not, that she was a Southern woman, and went straight home. She was to be back in a month. It came, but not she; another week, another, and I began to think I had been sold; another, and I gave her up altogether, and experienced a little relief, for the habit of seeing her had so got hold of me, that I could not shake it off, and yet I was tired of her, but I wanted the virgin.

There was a middle-aged man with whom I chummed much at my Club, a major retired, and a most debauched individual. He borrowed money of me, and did not repay it. His freedom of talk about women made him much liked by the younger men; the older said it was discreditable to help younger men to ruin. Ordinarly very careful how I spoke about women (for my loves having lain much in my mother’s house, caw tion had become habitual to me). I one night talked about virgins and of getting them. He said such things were done; that Harridans got a young lass, if well paid for it, but that they generally sold the girls half a dozen times over, “and”, said he, “they train the young bitches so, there is no finding them out; you may pay for one who was first fucked by a butcher boy, and then her virginity sold to a dandy; you may pay for it my boy, and not find out you have been done.” I pondered much over this, and the next night returned to the subject. His opinion was that an old stager like him was not to be done; but that any randy young beggar would go up the girl, and flatter himself he had had a virgin, if the girl was cunning. “When you see the tight covered hole with your eye, find it tight to your little finger, and then tight to your cock, my boy; when you have satisfied your eye, your finger, and your cucumber, and seen blood on it, you may be sure you have had one, — and not otherwise.”

Thought I, “I am going to be humbugged.” Another week, no letter, I went to her lodings, and found she had taken away everything she had with her. That night I told a little of my hopes to the Major, not telling him who the kind lady was, or where she was gone; but it made him laugh. “You are done brown my boy, done brown; that woman will never turn up again.” He joked me so, that I avoided him, and kept the subject to myself afterwards.

Again to the lodgings; the landlady could not keep them vacant any longer; I paid the rent, but she got no perquisites, I increased the allowance. Then again I went; the landlady said she did not expect to see her again. I had now set my heart on having this virgin; ten weeks nearly had gone; I said if Camille was not back next week she might let the rooms. It passed; a bill was put up in the window, and the next morning calling as a forlorn hope, there was a letter for me, — she would be back in a week. I was in a state of excitement that week, and kept myself chaste, with the idea of the virgin cunt, and Camille’s well paced rogering in anticipation.

The day came. I was so impatient, that I was there quite early; she arrived some hours earlier than she had said, and seemed surprised at finding me; my impression is that she did not want me to be there when she came back. She came in a hackney-coach; a stoutish full-sized young woman with a funny bonnet and long cloak on, got out of the coach with her, and in a free — and-easy way helped the things upstairs. She called her Louise. The wench put down a big box, and on my turning round after giving Camille a kiss, I saw she had seated herself on it, and hands on her knees was looking at me. “Uncord the box”, said Camille. Said the girl, “I am tired.” She uncorded it, again sitting down, and looking at me said, “Is that your young man? — he’s a good-looking fellow.” Camille told her to hold her tongue, to go on unpacking, and that I understood French, eying her at the same time in a savage way, and looking at me at times very uneasily. She was a rough sort of girl, she said, a relative of a friend of hers, had come as her servant, and in a short time would understand her place; smiling at me in a knowing way as she said that. Camille always addressed her servant in French, me in English; but I understood French tolerably well.

Louise did as she was told, but bounced about in an independant way, threw off her cloak and bonnet, and putting her hands on her hips stared at me again. I stared at her, thinking of the virginity I was destined to break up. Certainly she was appetizing; her cloak off showed a thick woolen dress of dark brown striped with blue, a fine big figure, a couple of big breasts; her arms naked nearly to her shoulders, as French peasants usually wore them, were large, fleshy, and brown; the petticoats were half-way up to her knees, and showed the thickest woolen black stockings on a stout pair of legs, and feet in thick shoes with brass buckles; she had immense gilt earrings, and was in fact in the dress of a Bordeaux peasant woman.

I did nothing but stare at her, Camille nothing but scold her, talking to me at intervals. The girl got the boxes ready for opening, then walked about, taking up poker and tongs, chimney ornaments and everything in the room with curiosity. Camille and I had so much to say, that we took little notice of her; then she threw up the window and looked out. As she bent forward her short petticoats showed her legs up to her knee-backs; Camille was about to stop her looking out, when I winked, and stooping saw a thick roll of stockings just beneath the knees, and the flesh just above. Camille understood. “Madame, madame”, said the girl, “come, here, here is fun.” I heard Punch squeaking in the streets; she was delighted; her mistress went to the window giving me a knowing look, and looking out of the window with the girl, put her hands over the girl’s petticoats and lifted them slightly. Louise took no heed of this being so engrossed with Punch; I dropped on my knees and saw half-way up the girl’s thighs. I had been chute for a few weeks, or nearly so, the sight of Camille had fired me, the thighs finished me; I shoved my hands up Camille’s petticoats on to her arse, got her into her bed-room, and with her clothes in a lump on her belly, drove up my prick, spending directly I got up her cunt.

With half my spendings outside, half inside I lay with throbbing prick, which only came out when it had spent again. Camille vowed she had not had a man for weeks, and took it out of me, perhaps fearing if I went away with stiffening left, some other cunt would take it out. The ballocking over I went home.

I was early there the next day; Louise had been installed in the little room leading out of the sitting room. Camille told me a great deal about the distance she had gone, and the trouble and expense she had been put to in getting the girl’s relatives to let her come; she hoped I would pay the additional expenses; and that I did at a cost of about twenty pounds. What with that and paying for her journey, and for lodgings while absent, Louise had cost me nearly ninety pounds already. Then I undertook to pay for the additional room, in which a bed having been put, an extra was charged; cooking now being done downstairs. Then Louise must have a new gown.; then Camille thought I ought to give her something for herself, because whilst away for me she had made no money. That I refused and blazed up about it; for all that agreed to pay for a new silk dress for her, and a lot of little odds and ends on the second day of Camille’s return, for all of which outlays I had only had a peep up the girl’s petticoats.

Then I had a talk about her. The girl was the daughter of a small grape-grower, a friend of Canine’s; they thought Camille was in London as a dressmaker, making a lot of money, because she sent money home to her father. Camille offered to take her, saying she would be sure to get on, if not in one way, then in another; that good-looking girls always did well in London. The girl was mad to come, and persuaded her parents to let her do so; believing that Camille got her living honestly; she was to be her servant until she could be put in the way of doing well.

“What are you going to tell her now? what are you going to do with her? what will she say when she finds out?” I asked.

Camille did not know. The girl would find out, and then she must excuse herself as well as she could, would say it was better, and jollier, and more money making than to make dresses. Besides, the girl could not help herself, and would have to make the best of it.

When was I to have her? I asked. As soon as I could get her; there she was, and I might try when and how I liked; help me more she could not, she could not insist on Louise letting me; but no doubt she would in time, no one else should have her.

I was not so sure of that. Camille was gay, and although I had for more than a year excluded most men from the house, yet she did have other men there, and I knew they would see the girl, might like her, might pay Camille; all the remarks of the retired major came strongly before me, and I thought I was going to be sold, and said so.

She replied that I was not; she would leave me with the girl when I liked; if the girl spoke to her she would advise her to let me, but would have nothing to do with influencing her beyond that; and when the event came off, she meant to be out, so that Louise’s friends could not say anything. If she went gay it was no fault of hers, young women would have it done to them, it was natural. That was the game she meant to play.

I saw that I had paid her only for bringing a girl, and must take my chance of getting into her; all she would do was to keep the coast clear. I don’t know what I really did expect Camille to do, but think I imagined that she would have got the girl in bed with her some night, let me get into bed with them, and helped to make her fuck, if she would not. This was dissipated, I was to have the chance I should have had with a servant in my mother’s house, or less, for this girl I should not see so often, and could not be sure she would be so well looked after.

So Camille went out, leaving me alone with the servant whenever I wished. I expect she went with other men at houses of friends, and so got her time paid for twice over, and made a good thing of it; perhaps she thought, the longer this lasted the better it would be for her. I think now that that was her game.


To be Continued in Vol 2

Highlights of Vol 2

Total Chapters 23

CHAPTER I.—Louise sapped.—Suspicions.—Lectures on virginity with live

illustrations.—Drugged for inspection.—Camille's hesitation.—Absents

herself.—The house in G.. d. n s.... e.—Baudy prints.—A feel, a

sniff, and a kiss.—Out shopping.—Garters.—Dinner, and after.

CHAPTER II.—Undressing.—Silk stockings and garters.—The

attack.—Foiled on the outside.—A battery.—A breech.—A tough

virginity.—Triumphant.—Sanguinary proofs.—The second entry.—My

foreskin.—Twenty-four hours fucking.—Gamahuching.—Six days

pleasure.—Camille returns.

CHAPTER III.—Camille at home.—Her little game.—My greenness.—The

house in O.. d. n street.—The glove-shop.—Louise fatigues me.—Fred

on the scent.—A cigar-shop.—Three into one.—A clap.—Serious

reflexions.—The sisters disappear.

CHAPTER IV.—Enforced chastity.—A stricture.—Health restored.—Mrs.

Pender.—A peep from a hay-stack.—In a cowhouse.—-Stable and

barn.—Mother's satisfaction.

CHAPTER V.—Aunt at the dairy.—Morning amusements with Pender.—Female

haymakers.—Mrs. Whiteteeth.—An exhibition of cock.—Against a field

gate.—A night on the grass.—A sight from the barn-loft.—Robert the


CHAPTER VI.—Joey and nursemaid.—The privy in the

laurel-walk.—Scared.—Whiteteeth in the ditch.—The nursemaid's

bed-room.—Robert amusing her.—A lost virginity.—Aunt and

Joey.—Nearly caught.—Amatory instructions to nursemaid.

CHAPTER VII.—Molly and Giles.—A country ale-house.—Pender's

history.—How her virginity was taken.—White-teeth's ailment.—Molly in

the loft.—Interrupted.—Molly tailed.

CHAPTER VIII.—Field-women.—Fred at home.—Smith, the field-foreman.—A

rape of a juvenile.—Fucking consequences.—Nelly consents.—Fred looks


CHAPTER IX.—Laura and Fred.—Vauxhall amusements.—A juvenile

harlot.—A linen stopper.—The hairless and the hairy.—Ten and

forty.—A snub.—At my aunt's.—Nursemaid and page missing.—Pender with

child.—Molly and Giles caught.—Mr. Pendler's letch.

CHAPTER X.—Nelly and Sophy.—The beer-house again.—Sophy's belly.—On

the road.—Against a tree.—At the baudy house with Sophy.—Her

narrative. Tom and the three sisters.—Fred on the scent.—Pendler's


CHAPTER XI.—Out shooting.—A female carter.—A feel in the

train.—Molly in London.—Giles in town.—Fred on the scene.—Molly at

the Hall.—Copulation in uniform.—A sham illness.—An afternoon with

Molly.—She turns harlot.—Gets clapped.—Her baby.

CHAPTER XII.—Nelly and Sophy.—Nelly at the Argyle.—In town

with Fred.—On the sofa with Mabel.—The effect of black

stockings.—Interference.—In bed.—Mabel's bad habits.—A ladies'

school.—The bath-room.—My cousins naked.—Marie the curate's

wife.—Cunt inspections.—Servants washing.—Flat-fucking.

CHAPTER XIII.—Fred on flat-fucking.—In town with Laura.—Back at

the school.—Pictures for young ladies.—Fred's ankle.—Mrs. Maria's

weakness.—To London alone.—Laura and Mabel.—Three in a bed.—A risky

poke.—Groping for the pot.—Nearly caught.—Fred joins us.

CHAPTER XIV.—My cousin at home.—Pender's belly.—A lawyer's

letter.—Action for crim-con threatened.—Suspicions.—A

compensation.—The Penders leave.—Wholesale whorings.—A frolic at Lord

A...'s.—After dinner.—Newspaper readings.—A strange rape.—Bets

on pricks.—Pricks felt.—Fred on his head.—Beds on the

floor.—Free-fucking.—End of the orgie.

CHAPTER XV.—Morning headaches.—An indignant housekeeper.—A

saucy valet.—Consequences.—Fred leaves England.—Lady A... 's

invitation.—Laura a widow.—Farewell Laura.—Adieu Mabel.—My

guardian's remonstrances.—Parental advice.—Ruined.—Reflexions.—My


CHAPTER XVI.—Married, and miserable.—Virtuous

intentions.—Consequences.—Mary Davis—A virtuous child.—Low-class

fucksters.—A concupiscent landlady.—Reflexions on my career.—the

sizes of pricks.—My misconception.

CHAPTER XVII.—Irish Kate.—Drink, heat, fleas, and French letters.—The

bricklayer afterwards.—I give luck.—The lost breast-pin.—The

cholera's victim.

CHAPTER XVIII.—Costermonger's children.—A small girl, mother, and

mangle.—A French letter fetched.—Young Callow's exploits.—The

customers' linen.—A hard-fleshed bum.—Invitation to anus.—A strange

letch.—One big with child.—Fucked for a sovereign, and pleasure.—A

Creole.—My misery.—Reflexions.

CHAPTER XIX.—My home life.—Heartbroken.—In the parlour.—Maid Mary's

sympathy.—Don't cry Master.—On the sofa.—Both in lust.—Impotent.

CHAPTER XX.—The next day.—On the door-mat.—On the sofa.—On her

belly.—Eight hours fucking.—At a brothel.—An afternoon's amusement.

CHAPTER XXI.—Preliminary.—Mary's

seduction.—Flight.—Desertion.—Going to the post-office.—A halfpenny

signal.—Against an arm chair.—The privy watched.—Nearly caught.—Mary

suspected.—Dismissed.—In lodgings.—Service again.—My cousin

sir.—Letters lost.—Mary disappears.—Seven years afterwards.—Sequel.



1. During my visit to London for studies where we had an Old Ancestral Home, I stumbled on a family treasure. Apart from other things I also found a hump of books, diaries, and notes in the treasure which contained classic, Age-old, Erotic books, Novels, and Magazines probably collected by my Ancestors. They are all timeless and precious. They are a must-read for all erotica lovers.

2. Out of the aforesaid collection, presenting an amazing account which was first published in 1888, My Secret Life, by "Walter", is the memoir of a gentleman.

3. The book My Secret Life has been authored by "Walter". The identity of "Walter" is unknown. so the Original Authors are long dead or unknown.

4. My Secret Life, by "Walter", is the memoir of a gentleman describing the author's sexual development and experiences in Victorian England. It was first published in a private edition of eleven volumes, at the expense of the author, including an imperfect index, which appeared over seven years beginning around 1888.

5. The work in having 11 Volumes containing a total of 184 chapters apart from the Introduction & Preface.

6 All characters be read as of more than age of 18 years.

7. My sincere apologies to the author of the Novel and readers for editing, or modifying the underage content, if any, to make it suitable for publishing in Modern times.
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