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.
MY SECRET LIFE BY WALTER
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.
I was in wonderful condition. Early to bed, out-of-door exercise, good plain living, everything to make me so. I felt as if I could fuck all day. If one day I had neither of the women, the next day my prick stood from morning till I got to sleep at night. When standing quietly in the woods waiting for the driving of the game, I used if alone to pull out my prick and look at it, and thinking of cunt forgot to fire at the rabbits. Once I recollect shooting at a rabbit with my prick out of my trowsers.
Among the laborers I had seen was a strapping woman with big legs, withered face, and parchment skin, middle-aged, yet not actually bad-looking. The old foreman had said to me, “She ha been the biggest whore in the parish, I bet that there beant a man but what have had she when she were young. The first chap as had she, were the banker; she say it herself. I be sworn she likes a bit yet when she can get it.” She was as strong as a horse, if no one were handy, she would groom a horse, was often driving a farm-cart, and had the reputation of having whored . Waiting with my gun by a ride one day, my prick throbbing in my trowsers; I pulled it out, and felt it, laid down my gun, and in the trembling state of erection I was in had determined to frig myself; when I heard the wheels of a cart which soon came in sight. I saw it was driven by this woman who sat on a shaft with her legs dangling, and showing her big calves. Lust made me indifferent to consequences, had it been my grandmother I think I should have done the same. There was a cunt between those legs, that was enough. I forgot her position, the risk I ran of beaters coming, and everything else; I only thought of how to ease myself.
I nodded, “Good morning mother, come and help us a bit”, and out stood my cock in front of her. She laughed, and jumped off the cart which stopped. “Come here.” “No”, said she standing still and grinning. I winked and turned to the left out of the ride, she did the same. Without preliminary, almost without a word, I laid her on some grass drier than the rest, and had as good a pleasure out of her as I ever had in my life, or thought so. She went off with her cunt full, I tipped her. In a few minutes I was banging at the rabbits again. I don’t think I was three minutes about it, and never had her again nor spoke to her, though I occasionally saw her and winked.
“I hait heard much of your gun squire”, said one of the game-keepers,” there ought to have been lots o’ rabbits pass you in this beat.” I said I had scarcely seen any, — how could I ?
Rainy weather set in, Nelly and Sophy were avail-able but al-fresco, copulation impossible, and the long tramp or ride to ***, to the baudy house not to my taste. I had now no excuse for going to the farm, and no Pender. So one morning I set off for London. Just as the train started Molly and her mother appeared; she put the girl into a third-class carriage. At the first station the train stopped at I got into the carriage with Molly, who opened her eyes wide when she saw me. We were soon in conversation. Molly was going to an aunt’s in London who was to meet her at the Terminus. You may guess which way my talk ran. I kept whispering lewd things in her ear. An elderly stern-faced woman got in at a station, fixed her eyes on us, especially on me, and at length said, “Do you know that young woman?” Her coolness nearly settled me, but I said I did, kept on talking, and was delighted when about two or three stations further on she left with the remark to Molly, “Take care of yourself my gal, and don’t have anything to say to strange men or women.”
There are tunnels on that line. There were no lights then in third-class carriages. In one tunnel I kissed her, and on my kiss being returned, got my fingers on her cunt, and kept them there till approaching light made me withdraw them. It was a cold foggy day. I sat close to her wrapped in a travelling-cloak, and partially covered her with it and with my rug. I got her hand under my cloak and with the pretense of warming it, gradually introduced my prick into her hand, and there I kept it a quarter of an hour, she looking in such a fright all round’ at the people every now and then, but enjoying the warmth of the feel. Just before entering London is another tunnel, I had another grope at her warm quim, and arranged my clothes.
I got her London address, and entered a cab, de- termined to follow her, and see if she was deceiving me. She waited, no one appeared to meet her, one or two men spoke to her, and as she told me later asked her to go and have drink. Then I got out. “No one is here”, said I. “Come and have some wine, you can say you waited ever so long should they come,-there is some error about meeting you.”
How could she refuse? Already had her fingers been playing round my cock, mine still smelt of her cunt. Telling the cab to wait, and putting her bag inside it, in three minutes I had her in a baudy house close by the Terminus (I dare say it’s there now), and Molly’s little cunt was again moistened by me. If her mother had known the risks, she never would have allowed her the journey to London.
When our heat was cooled by two hours dallying, kissing and fucking, she got uneasy about being found out. We put our heads together for an excuse. The ad-dress was Paddington, she was to say she waited an hour at the station, then made a mistake, and went to Islington, and not finding the street there came to Paddington. The excuse turned out good, Paddington and Islington looked much alike on the scrawl.
I have often wondered at the rapid success I had with country women at that time. With women whom I saw daily, and with whom I had much opportunity, such as mother’s servants, I was a long time getting my aim; but at that period of my life I was often diffident; even with gay women, a slight thing would at times make me cease speaking to them. But here I no sooner attacked than the females fell to me. I attribute it to the suddenness and impetuosity with which I made at times my advances, and the boldness with which I proceeded to baudy extremities. When I was once lanced, I was so strong, so lewd, that I am sure I communicated my lewdness to them by some subtle magnetism, even before I spoke. Then I was a Lon-don swell, a relative of the lady of the Manor, there was the pride which women of the humble class have, in being singled out for notice by a London gent, all these told. But my baudy, rapid assaults, lustful cunning and an innate power of stirring up voluptuous sensations in women when once I spoke, got me them more than anything else. When in the country, I was thinking of nothing else, and had nothing else to do but to hunt down cunts, and feed myself up for fucking them. When in London the game was different.
Molly’s aunt was a greengrocer. Molly did not keep her promise to meet me, so I went to the place, saw her standing in the shop, and beckoned; she shook her head. I passed and repassed, on foot, then in a cab, till I thought the whole street would know me. At length she came out and said, “Aunt won’t let me out alone, mother’s told her not; I can only stay five minutes.” She wanted a post-office, — could I find her one? I did close by. She slipped a letter into the box, and begging me not to come near the shop, went back. I asked her to write me, and arranged to send my letters to this post-office. I wrote twice, and got no reply. Angry I wrote that I must see her, and had something to tell her; then I got a scrawl in reply. She met me, and I took her to a house near her aunt’s.
Molly did not like me. When I got her into the room, she refused to let me have her, and begged me to tell her what I had heard. I invented some nonsense; and she said that was not what I had to say, she was
—IS 3— sure. I recollect sitting and talking with my prick out, and she looked at it sulkily; but she resisted me. I said, “How is Giles’ head?” “What”., said she, “who told you ?” “Nobody knows but me”, said I. (It was one of the most blackguardly things I did in my life, and am ashamed of it.) She shed tears, but no longer refused me. I gave her a sovereign saying, “That will be useful when you marry.”
I made her meet me again, and then she told me she would go to service. She went after a good many situations I know. I fucked her whenever she went out. She was getting hot-arsed, and she Shed the poking. One morning I passed the shop, and saw loitering about in the streets in a velveteen costume Giles. She had written to him I was sure.
I dodged them in a cab, saw her come out, and as fast as they could they went to a low coffee-shop where there were beds. I daresay my money paid for their refreshments.
Going to the street one day, there to my astonishment I saw my cousin Fred walking about. I was in a cab, and he did not see me. I asked Molly the next time if she knew if Fred was in town. She said no, seemed astonished, and I believed her; but I was sure Fred was after her, and could not imagine how he had found out her address. Laura perhaps took the starch out of him, for I never saw him in the street again. Molly now got fond of money. One day I took her to a baudy house near the Haymarket, feasted her, and fucked her till I was empty, and she full. Then I went back to the country to see my aunt, and soon again I got Pender. Said she among other gossip, “That gal Molly Brown will give her mother trouble, she has been after a situation in London, and her aunt says has been seen going into a house with a man, Giles has left the village, her mother believes he is after her, so she has sent for her back.” Sure enough in two or three days there was Molly, looking as fresh as a daisy, and as modest as a whore at a christening.
The mother told no one anything except Pender, and Pender told me. Molly then went to the Hall assisting whilst a servant was ill, and then I saw her every hour or so. Then Fred came back, and I saw he was making up to her, and told him of it. He acknowledged it, remarking it was a pity such a nice young girl should not taste the sugar-stick. “Perhaps she has”, said I. He thought not, there was a country lout she wanted to marry, and the mother looked after her closely. “I would give a ten-pound note to have her”, he said to me one day.
Shortly Molly appeared ill and pining; her face lost its bloom, I could not understand it. The bad weather keeping people at home had given me no chance of having her; if I saw her alone it was only for a minute, but I used to pull my prick out and show it to her. I have done it in the corridor, my aunt walking in front of me. I tried to get her to come out, but she would not, besides Fred always appeared on the scene. My delight was to get in the way when I knew there was the best chance of his seeing her alone. So we baulked each other.
There was some military inspection not far from us, Fred was going in his uniform, with my aunt, cousins and self, and all but two servants were allowed to go. The carriage was at the door when I was taken short, and being in my bed-room ran to the W.C. As I came out, I saw Fred at the end of the corridor near the stairs, walking quickly but quietly, and heard his footsteps descending to the Hall. “What’s up?” thought I. He has been dressed a long time, why on the first-floor now? He passed his bed-room without going in. A suspicion crossed my mind, and being close to it, I put my ear to the nursemaid’s door (the one with two doors in which I had had the skinny nurse-maid), heard a rustling, and quickly opening the lobby-door connecting with the servants’ stairs, I saw Molly looking hot, flushed, adjusting her collar and hair, and going downstairs rapidly, she didn’t see me. Instinct told me she had been fucked by Fred.
I rushed downstairs, Fred and all were in the carriage, aunt angry at waiting so long for me. I told her my ailment, said I would ride after them directly I felt better, so off they drove. The butler and Molly were in the Hall, they and the cook the only people in the house. I sent off the butler to the village to get me some medicine, and said to Molly in a stern way before him, as if I had never seen her, “Are you doing the housemaid’s work young woman?” “Yes sir.” “Arrange my room as quickly as you can, for I am not well, and shall lay down there.” “Yes sir”, said she looking so hard at me. “Do the room at once”, said the old butler. Off she went. I saw him go off on his errand, and ran upstairs to my bed-room. There was Molly. I bolted the door, and pulled out my prick. Never had Molly resisted me more, she struggled, fought. What would happen if some one came? She would be ruined. “No one can come my darling, all are out but cook, and if she misses you she will think you have ran down to your mothers.” But she strug- gled on, begged, implored, she would meet me; she would do anything if I would desist then, she was poorly and could not. It was useless. I had been against my will chaste for some days. The fascination of the prick overcame her, she yielded, I threw her at length on the bed, mounted, fucked, and in half-a-dozen thrusts the job was done.
I recollect keeping her under me, and with my dawning senses what I had seen a quarter of an hour before came through my mind. Prick up her, and leaning on one elbow, I looked at her long; the possibility of my prick then laying in Fred’s spunk mixed with my own, instead of horrifying me as it would have done, had I thought about the matter before in a cool state of mind, sent a delightful tittillation through me. I grasped her firmly, drove my prick home again, and said looking her in the face, “Fred has just fucked you.”
“Oh I” said she with such a start that she uncunted me, “oh! what a wicked story, — let me go.” But I was flat on her, she writhed, said I was insulting her; but my prick drove on, it hit, and went up. “I am sure he has, — shove, shove, — I saw him — shove — leave the room — shove — and you came out the other door, — shove, shove, shove, — lay quiet, — shove, shove, shove.” “Oh I let me go.” “I shan’t, — shove,-wriggle, —shove, — oh ! my love,-ah !—ah. — a ! oh — o I — ah !” Our wet lips met, and the final wriggle settled our movements, sighs and conversation. She was quiet enough now, tranquillized by her pleasure.
“Oh ! if some one comes.” “I will say you are not here, and no one can enter. Fred has just fucked you.”
“It’s a lie”, said she rolling off the bed, and going off quickly with her cunt full.
The butler came back with the medicine, I threw it down the closet, and went down to the dining-room. In an hour or so, I rang for some tea (how was I to get him out of the way again?). I went to my bed-room, rang; up came Molly. “Let us do it again.” “I won’t, you have insulted me.” “Bring me a great can of hot water.” Then I rang for all sorts of odd things, making believe I had a bad attack of colic, showing her my prick each time, till she let me do it at the edge of the bed. Her cunt had been well washed. We were quiet, afraid of being overheard, a woman knows how to avoid being compromised when she has once intrigued, — but the poor girl was in an agony of fear.
“I’ve been into the nursemaid’s room”, said I, “and there is the mark of some one having been on the bed-edge.” “Well it’s not me.” She stuck out that she had been in the room alone. “Why there at all?” She had only passed through the room to piddle.
In the afternoon I called the butler, and sent him to the village again, to get me another mixture. In the dining-room I rang, and Molly answered. “I am going to ring in my room again”, said I, “you come.” No she would not. I went up and rang.
The cook answered my bell. What a baulk ! but I was equal to it, — the cook had no business to come up, it was Molly’s place. “Do you think that Mrs. Brown or Pender, or some one on the farm has got anything good for diarrhoea?” “I’ll go and see”, said she good-naturedly. I knew she must be gone ten minutes, or a quarter of an hour.
I followed her downstairs, soon rushed into the kit- chen, bolted the kitchen-garden entrance, laid hold of Molly, whose horror was extreme at the idea of being caught, and I fucked her in the butler’s pantry, where he slept. With my cock dripping as I pulled it out, I ran up to my room. She had just had time to unbolt the door before the cook appeared, and she brought me some medicine from Mrs. Pender, which of course went down the closet.
I went to my bed-room, revelling in the intrigue of the day, and wondering how often Fred had had her, and whether that day was the first time. Whenever my cock grew stiff I rang for Molly, and showed it to her. She grew demoralized at the constant sight of the cock, but there was no time for a fuck; I promised her a new bonnet to get me another opportunity. In a couple of hours she came, I had a voluptuous caprice, turned her belly on the bed, her rump towards me, for a fuck from behind. She objected, “What are you going to do? You can’t do anything like that.” “Yes my love, easily.” “I don’t like my clothes up like that.” Two or three times I had to turn her round before she was quiet, and then we consummated. Molly was astonished. She had never been tailed in that attitude before I am sure.
It was about eleven o’clock when Fred and the others had set forth; they returned to a late dinner. I had fucked Molly five or six times. Then I went to bed, my aunt and cousins came up to me, and were so kind. So was Fred, who told me all about the inspection, and never suspected my game in the least, nor any one else. The last words I said to Molly that day were, “Fred has fucked you.” Again she swore that he never had. To keep up the deception and excuse my staying at home, I had eaten scarcely anything all day, and felt I recollect awfully hungry when a bed.
The empty pleasure of occasionally showing my doodle to Molly was all I could get afterwards. Nelly or Sophy -I forget which — I got to the baudy house at ***; whichever of the two it was, came half wet through with muddy boots and under-linen which so upset me that I did not poke. The servant who had been ill came back to the Hall, and Molly left. I had Pender (whose belly was then showing its intentions awfully) up against the gate opposite her cottage one wet night (but “cock and cunt will come together”). Said she in the slight interval between our meeting, fucking, and parting, “If that gal Molly is not in the family way,-her mother’s found it out, — oh ! such a row.” That accounted for Molly looking depressed.
Soon Molly went again to London, and I did the same day, but not in the third-class carriage. We spoke at the station. “For God’s sake go”, said she, “aunt’s coming.” “I’ll write to the post-office”, said I, and did. Then she met me, she got a situation directly, but I tempted the girl. “Tell your aunt you are wanted a week earlier than you are, and come and stop with me.” The devil was with me, Molly got into a cab with her box, and was set down at a station; there I got her into another, and we drove to a small hotel where I had taken a room. She only stayed with me five days; I took her to theatres and other places, but not out in the day; fed her up, and fucked her and myself out. The sheets were always slobbered with spunk and once or twice I made the woman change them. Molly had become lecherous, and no doubt reckless, and I had the delight of teaching her baudiness (which is the main pleasure a virgin gives you over a gay women), but she did not care about me. She was often crying, but a little friction on her clitoris usually cured that. On the last day I asked her if she was in the family way? She admitted it, and went to her situatiton. “I think it’s you who have done it”, said she to me. I told her it must be Giles.
She stopped a fortnight in her situation, then went no one knew where. Pender told me when I went back. I was sorry, went to town hoping to find her, and wrote to the post-office. By some chance-perhaps to get a letter from Giles — she went there. A week after-wards my landlady said a young woman had called on me. “A lady?” said I. “Not at all, an overdressed young woman.” It was Molly, who called again. I went to her poor lodgings, she fenced my questions, said she meant to go back to her mother’s. Pressing her as to how she lived, she said she had the money I had given her. “But your bonnet, your clothes, — what do you do of a night?” She could not evade it, Molly had turned whore. I never knew who had put her up to getting her living by her cunt; but a fellow-servant had left with her, and had got the next room to hers.
A woman who takes to whoring takes to lying. I could not learn exactly how long she had stayed at her situation, or much about her movements. I stayed with her the night, she let me pull up her clothes, and open her thighs with a freedom she never had done before; from which I inferred she had had more than one prick in her split since I had been up her last; she was voluptuous, and her cunt was unusually juicy.
I went back to my aunt’s sorry, for I seemed to have been largely the cause of Molly going astray, and did not know then that a gay life is as happy as that of the wife of a farm-laborer. Restless I went again to London, saw Molly who looked fearfully wretched, would neither let me fuck, nor feel her, and then broke out in an agony of tears, saying she was ill, something was the matter with her. “With your cunt?” “Yes”, said she, “do look.” Poor Molly opened her plump thighs, stretched open her cunt, and gave me every facility. Her quim was in a high state of inflammation, and it had a discharge. A medical student who saw her said she had the clap, and gave her medicine. “Oh ! do look again, tell me if I am very bad, — shall I be worse ? — oh ! I am so sorry I did not keep at my situation”, said she.
Once in my life since, another girl made me a similar confession, and those are the only two who confessed to an illness at the time they had the illness on them.
I told her she could be cured, but horrified her with the de***********ion of the disease to which she might be subject, took her to a doctor, paid her lodgings, counselled her to go home, to hold her tongue, and refuse to tell any one anything, excepting that she had left her situation. She promised, but was frightened of her mother.
She said she had never been into the streets since I had left her. I had a fear of the clap, and did not intend any commerce with her; but lust overcame me, and we fucked all that night to the damage of the sheets again. I wrote an anonymous letter to her mother, telling where the girl could be found. She came up to town and took her back. Molly’s cunt proved to be all right.
A woman is such a fool that she must tell some one everything. Mrs. Brown told Pender about the anonymous letter, and Mrs. P. told me; but I don’t think any of them knew the girl had been on the streets. Molly’s belly soon afterwards showed, Mrs. Brown thought better of Giles, he married her and they went to live a few miles off. She had a child, and every one thought it was Giles’ begetting. I suppose he knew nothing of the girl’s pranks, for luckily a cunt cannot speak. Then Mrs. Brown left aunt, and Pender and his wife came to live in the farm-yard.
When it became known that Molly Brown was de-livered of a child, my aunt remarked (Fred told me) that she was not married a bit too soon. “I had that little devil two or three times”, said Fred, “and on the first day I was in uniform. Do you recollect Walter, the day you were ill?” And he told me how it came about; but I never told him that I had had her; I never spoke of having had a woman, if I thought I should injure her, whatever my desire or vanity might have been.
To be Continued
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.
frig — to masturbate
gamahuche — to practise fellatio or cunnilingus, hence gamahucher.
gambols — frisky, frolicsome movements
lapunar — A brothel
motte — Mound. Pubic area. Mons pubis.
nymphae — The labia minora (inner lips) of the vulva.
onanism — Masturbation
Paphian — pertaining to love, or unlawful sexual indulgence, or belonging to the class of prostitutes